Description: Captain Janeway has replicated a circa-2001 radio. Some interesting
thoughts ensue when she's flipping channels.
Disclaimer: I've used so many songs here that I can't possibly credit all the artists. Just
know that none of them are mine. Star Trek is a copyright of Paramount, yadda, yadda,
yadda.
Oh, and a challenge. If you like this, or you want to see just how demented I can be, put
a list of songs in your feedback. I'll write another one using quotes from those songs. I
like to be challenged. Make it fun for me, so that my boring little life can get more
interesting, okay?
It was 2 AM. Kathryn Janeway sat in her quarters. She put down the book of poetry she
was reading- she just wasn't in that kind of mood tonight. This morning. Whatever. She
glanced over at the table, where something the replicator libraries called a "boom box"
was sitting on the table.
She remembered radios from her childhood. Growing up in a traditionalist home had
given her some knowledge of her heritage surpassed only by Tom Paris' obsession with
history. She was relatively certain that the likelihood of picking up a radio signal
carrying music from the early 21st century from the Delta Quadrant wouldn't be possible.
Fortunately, this boom box had a few perks- like the built-in computer chip that created a
multitude of radio stations- all playing simultaneously and waiting for her to "tune in".
The best part, though- no commercials.
She began to think about the members of her crew- her family- as she hit the button
marked "seek" to find a station. As it searched, her thoughts settled on Chakotay. The
radio found a station.
"Why does the color of my coffee match your eyes?"
Kathryn frowned and hit the button again.
"Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor,
that leads your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need."
She pushed the seek yet again.
"I think I'm in love."
She scowled. Seek.
"Baby, I love you."
"Ooh, I want you, I don't know if I need you, but, ooh, I'd die to find out."
"Enough!" she shouted aloud. Then she whispered softly, "Oh, Kathryn, why do you do
this to yourself?"
"Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high."
"Oh wait, you're kidding. He didn't just say what I think he did, did he?"
Kathryn tried to focus on someone else. ANYONE else.
B'Elanna?
"I don't know why you gotta be angry all the time."
Maybe not. Harry Kim, maybe?
"I can't stand to fly. I'm not that naïve."
Tuvok?
"Yesterday I cried. You must have been relieved to see the softer side."
Okay. How about Seven? She seemed safe enough.
"If I choose to waver my chance to be one of the hive."
She needed a cup of coffee. Now. Before this radio got the better of her. She slapped
the button again and stood to walk to the replicator. As she walked by the table, she
stubbed her toe. She tripped a little, gasped in pain, then continued her walk to the
replicator.
"I try to walk away and I stumble."
Coffee forgotten, she ran back and hit the button again. This thing was beginning to
make her uneasy.
"Surrender, 'cause you can't win."
"Fine!" she to the boom box. "I'll just think about myself. Let's see what you can do
with THAT!"
"I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I, wanna talk about number one, oh my, me,
my. What I think, what I like, what I know, what I wand, what I see."
"Just me, myself, and I."
"I'm supergirl."
"I'm a survivor."
"I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry. Like a bird upon the winds, these waters are
my sky. I'll never reach my destination if I never try, so I will sail my vessel 'til the river
runs dry."
Kathryn sighed. She wasn't going to beat this thing. Not tonight, anyway.
"I'm going to bed," she told it mater-of-factly.
"Sweet dreams are taking over."
She hit the power switch and made a mental note to have Seven scan this contraption first
thing in the morning.
thoughts ensue when she's flipping channels.
Disclaimer: I've used so many songs here that I can't possibly credit all the artists. Just
know that none of them are mine. Star Trek is a copyright of Paramount, yadda, yadda,
yadda.
Oh, and a challenge. If you like this, or you want to see just how demented I can be, put
a list of songs in your feedback. I'll write another one using quotes from those songs. I
like to be challenged. Make it fun for me, so that my boring little life can get more
interesting, okay?
It was 2 AM. Kathryn Janeway sat in her quarters. She put down the book of poetry she
was reading- she just wasn't in that kind of mood tonight. This morning. Whatever. She
glanced over at the table, where something the replicator libraries called a "boom box"
was sitting on the table.
She remembered radios from her childhood. Growing up in a traditionalist home had
given her some knowledge of her heritage surpassed only by Tom Paris' obsession with
history. She was relatively certain that the likelihood of picking up a radio signal
carrying music from the early 21st century from the Delta Quadrant wouldn't be possible.
Fortunately, this boom box had a few perks- like the built-in computer chip that created a
multitude of radio stations- all playing simultaneously and waiting for her to "tune in".
The best part, though- no commercials.
She began to think about the members of her crew- her family- as she hit the button
marked "seek" to find a station. As it searched, her thoughts settled on Chakotay. The
radio found a station.
"Why does the color of my coffee match your eyes?"
Kathryn frowned and hit the button again.
"Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor,
that leads your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need."
She pushed the seek yet again.
"I think I'm in love."
She scowled. Seek.
"Baby, I love you."
"Ooh, I want you, I don't know if I need you, but, ooh, I'd die to find out."
"Enough!" she shouted aloud. Then she whispered softly, "Oh, Kathryn, why do you do
this to yourself?"
"Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high."
"Oh wait, you're kidding. He didn't just say what I think he did, did he?"
Kathryn tried to focus on someone else. ANYONE else.
B'Elanna?
"I don't know why you gotta be angry all the time."
Maybe not. Harry Kim, maybe?
"I can't stand to fly. I'm not that naïve."
Tuvok?
"Yesterday I cried. You must have been relieved to see the softer side."
Okay. How about Seven? She seemed safe enough.
"If I choose to waver my chance to be one of the hive."
She needed a cup of coffee. Now. Before this radio got the better of her. She slapped
the button again and stood to walk to the replicator. As she walked by the table, she
stubbed her toe. She tripped a little, gasped in pain, then continued her walk to the
replicator.
"I try to walk away and I stumble."
Coffee forgotten, she ran back and hit the button again. This thing was beginning to
make her uneasy.
"Surrender, 'cause you can't win."
"Fine!" she to the boom box. "I'll just think about myself. Let's see what you can do
with THAT!"
"I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I, wanna talk about number one, oh my, me,
my. What I think, what I like, what I know, what I wand, what I see."
"Just me, myself, and I."
"I'm supergirl."
"I'm a survivor."
"I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry. Like a bird upon the winds, these waters are
my sky. I'll never reach my destination if I never try, so I will sail my vessel 'til the river
runs dry."
Kathryn sighed. She wasn't going to beat this thing. Not tonight, anyway.
"I'm going to bed," she told it mater-of-factly.
"Sweet dreams are taking over."
She hit the power switch and made a mental note to have Seven scan this contraption first
thing in the morning.