“I don’t care what they call themselves. They’re space vampires. I’ll be in my quarters, phaser set on vaporize.”
#LifeInStarfleet
"Another day, another crisis. A newly discovered species has just informed us they find Klingons... delectable. Yep, you heard that right. Now we’ve got an entire diplomatic negotiation to stop them from putting the Ambassador on the menu. Someone, please, just pass me the synthale."
So apparently the alien virus is not what we thought it was. Instead of transforming us into mindless zombies, it’s… turning us into plants? Yeah, that’s right. Now I have to deal with a crew of walking ferns and cactus hybrids. Can’t wait for the next emergency.
Engineering Log: Again with the temporal loop. This is the fifth time this month. It’s getting so bad, we’re all starting to recognize the pattern. I’ll just be here, fixing the same systems, dealing with the same malfunctioning replicators, over… and over… and over again.
“Wait. Wait. We got another artificial sentience trying to take over the ship’s computer? Yeah. No. I’ll be in the shuttle. You guys deal with it. This is the third artificial sentience in as many months.”
"I am NOT going to clean up Holodeck 5. I know what awaits there. I'd be easier if we just expose the room to vacuum and then send a bot to clean up the dried crusts off the floor, ceiling and walls."
"Excuse me, Captain. We can't put those restrictions on the holodecks. You, as a highly evolved and intellectual being, use the holodeck for adventures that stimulate your mind and sense of wonder. Everyone else uses it for sex. You'll cause a riot."
"Where am I, Bones?"
"Quarantine, Jim"
"Am I pregnant again?"
"I wish ... you're mutating into a hybrid."
"Oh man. Is it going to hurt?"
"A lot"
"Totally worth it!"
"The holodeck cleansers are down? YOU want ME to go in there and fix them? Nope. Last time, I kept on slipping and falling on all the 'reproductive fluids' on the floor and walls. I even ended up in Sick Bay, one of you jerks picked up something in Risa!"
"If I hear one more 'blood honor' from one of these stubborn ridgeheads, it'll be 'empty all photon torpedo bays' on this peace conference!"
"Admiral?"
"You heard me!"
"Oh sure, I'll go deal with the rogue sentience that's taken over the holodeck and the main computer. After all, all I do all day is polish the Jeffreys Tubes. No, no, don't worry, I got this. I just need to get some tools from the escape pod. I'll be right back."
"I don't care if they're individuals. They're still Borg! We are still cleaning Borg code from systems! They're not coming on board."
"... but ... Captain!"
"Am I wearing a red shirt? AM I? NO! That's right! I'm not going on the away mission. Nopety nope nope nope."
"How do we keep getting sentient, and entirely self-aware holodeck programs subverting the ship's computer? HOW?"
"We covered this exact instance in the last Safety Briefing. No one ever listens to me. You deal with Q or whatever it is now, I'm jumping in an escape pod."
"Cheese! All we ever eat is cheese!"
"I'm not the one who broke the food replicator."
“We DO NOT let Mr Worf get hangry”
“Now you tell me”
“Mom! I got the transfer! I’m going to be in security and get to go on away missions with the captain!”
“Honor this! Honor that! Warrior this! Warrior that! Insufferable honor-bound, backward ridge skulls!”
“Admiral!”
“Shut it, Picard.”
"I don't care. I will not deal with another species with 6 genders. Last time, we nearly started a war. Nope. Not doing it."
"Captain?"
"You heard me. I'll be holed up in my ready room for the duration."
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