Less Than For the Sake of Giving
(Or, Kes' Transformation Explained)

A short parody addition to the Star Trek: Voyager episode The Gift

Darrel W. Beach

Sept, 1997
HTMLized, July 1999


OK, humour me here, folks. This is my first real attempt at writing parody, possibly reflecting my dry sense of humour. I got the idea shortly after watching the show.

The following presentation is rated G.

     With the shuttlecraft rapidly putting distance between itself and Voyager, Kes could feel the tingling sensation that marked the onset of her highly anticipated transition into an exciting new existence. She smiled, fondly remembering all of the enriching moments shared with Neelix, Captain Janeway and the rest of the rag-tag crew of the Federation ship over the past three years. She loved them all dearly, admired them for their comradeship and determination in their seemingly futile exodus across the galaxy. They had done so much for her, providing friendship, knowledge, wisdom, love and a purpose in life. She felt indebted to them all and wanted to repay them in kind, but how?
     Kes could feel the transformation process strengthen, the scope of her psychokinetic abilities radiating out further and further. The structural integrity of the shuttle's bulkheads wavered and buckled, the electromagnetic bonds of the duranium molecules being uncontrollably manipulated by the Ocampa. With exponentially increasing focus, Kes acquired the perfect idea to express her thanks. "A gift, for you," she murmured tranquilly as the essence of her physical being began losing its cohesion. She attenuated her whole consciousness on the starship, willing it across the span of the galaxy, but found the task increasingly difficult. A moment of confusion gripped her as the ship failed to go anywhere. She wondered what that object was and what she was trying to do to it, or who she was, for that matter. In the last moments Kes lost all function of thought and consciousness as the power of her transformation pushed its way out of her body, dissociating every single molecule of her person.

     Q nestled into his comfy nook of the cosmos and observed the unfolding events with genuine interest and enjoyment. His plan -- the utmost in cleverness and guile -- had worked perfectly, with nobody the wiser. "I never really liked that little goody-goody much anyway." He grinned and chuckled a sinister laugh. "You should have listened to the dear madam captain, little one," he advised the quickly dispersing cloud of gaseous particles that had once been Kes. "That woman has a remarkable intuition."
     The mischievous entity then turned his attention to the straggling starship. "Now, what to do with you?" he wondered aloud. He spent a fraction of a second projecting Voyager's future before him like a picture show. "Oh, dear now, that won't do at all," he complained. "I've been planning to make your lives interesting for a long while yet. It won't be nearly as much fun if you let yourselves become Borg drones, now will it?"
     He spent another fraction of a second considering how to best suit his interests. "Hm, that annoying little pixie has given me an exemplary notion."
     Q was not immune to charitable acts; he'd been known to pass a few favours for a certain starship captain before. However, he preferred a certain anonymity in such cases. After all, he had a reputation to maintain.
     The Ocampa's self-annihilation provided such a loophole. Of course, he'd have to change it a little bit: it wouldn't do him any benefit if the Voyager was sent all the way back to the Alpha Quadrant. He'd sent them just far enough to put them out of immediate peril. Those silly humans would most likely assume it was she who had done it anyway.
     Manoeuvring time back to just the right moment, Q tossed the little vessel safely across the Borg domain. "Just call me a closet philanthropist," he remarked waggishly to the thinning vapour.
     With that done, Q decided to move elsewhere. He hadn't had enough fun yet, and his recent thought about charity sparked a renewed interest with a familiar pastime. "I wonder what Jean-Luc is up to these days. Perhaps I should drop by and say hello." And in an instant he was gone from his cozy niche.

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