Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: TOS (all rights reserved to Gene Rodenbury, who is now in a small canister in space. . .), I don't own the Vogons (all rights reserved to Douglas Adams, author of Hitch Hiker's Guide To the Galaxy, who, unfortunately is no longer with us. . . . . . )

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TOS vs. The Vogons

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Skip this if you want. But if you do, you'll have no idea how. . .well, just read it.

Now, a quick word for those of you who don't know the Vogons. They are extremely gooey nasty creatures from a planet in a galaxy that is. . .no where near ours. But that doesn't mean they can't bulldoze something that belongs to us every once in a while.

Now, of course, this is the TOS Universe. Which means the Earth is still there.

But, in the Vogon's Universe, they bulldozed it to make way for a new hyperspace bypass. Without allowing us to evacuate first.

The upshot of this is that there are now, in the Vogon's Universe, only two human beings left. Arthur Dent and Trillian, who are, at this moment in time, travelling through space at impossibly stupid speeds with a two headed show-off, a man who is not from Earth, but actually from Beetlejuice, a computer that has a talking disorder, a suicidal, paranoid machine and two white mice who are actually more intelligent than everyone on Earth put together (I'll explain some other time, children . . .)

But this story isn't about them (yet). It is about the vile beings who destroyed Earth.

The same disgusting, gooey, vile, horrible Aliens who somehow managed to miss a wormhole on their scanners and ended up in the same Universe as. . .Captain James T. Kirk. . .

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It was a particularly boring day on the Enterprise. And by boring, I mean BORING.

Nothing had happened for two months. Three months. A year.

Kirk sighed and looked around the Bridge. At the Helm, Chekov and Sulu were very obviously handing notes to each other. Uhura was filling her false plastic nails down to short nubs, applying new ones, then filling those down, applying new ones. . .

Kirk started to feel a little dizzy watching her, so he blinked, shook his head and stared at the view screen, willing for something to happen.

And it did.

"Sair," Chekov piped up suddenly, "there's an unknown spatial anomaly headed this vay. Collision course."

"Okay," Kirk struck his By-God-I'm-Good pose and waited for McCoy to enter the Bridge before he moved, "try and dodge it, Chekov."

"Sair, I'm the Nawigator."

"Sorry. Sulu, I mean." The Asian on the other side of Chekov rolled his eyes in a Manga over- exaggerated way and tapped a few keys, then reported, "no good. It's tailing us."

"Anything on audio/video, Uhura?" Kirk asked, wondering why the whole running-away thing wasn't working. The he remembered the Author's philosophy and sighed.

"No sir. All channels clear."

"Damn it," Kirk muttered under his breath, "alright. Er. . .well. . .erm. . ."

"Sir," Spock looked up, "am I to understand you don't have a plan? I have one." He added with a little bit of blank smugness.

"Yes?" Kirk encouraged.

"Sit here and wait for it to arrive. It's gaseous, so it won't damaged the ship."

"That's illogical. The risk-"

"Risks? What about risks? Risks are our business! When man first looked at the stars-"

McCoy looked between the two, baffled. What was going on? They'd changed around! And, as fun as it was to see Spock rant, it was a little scary too. . .