-stop Tom Paris from spreading space AIDS to all these Delta quadrant alien sluts
-get back to my boyfriend, though I suspect the writers will forget he exists by the last season
-replace my conveniently killed doctor
-ditch these Maquis bastards, last night Chakotay tried drawing some hippie bullshit on my forehead
-forcefully "study" Seven of Nine in a laboratory
-I'll get to be an admiral
-explaining how I used a tertiary tachyon beam to create an adjunct wormhole in the unimatrix warp nacelle of some Borg nanoprobes to get us home will land me some sweet screen time
|
-somebody might promote Harry Kim
-I might accidentally disturb some inert gas sitting between the ship and the convenient route home, thus ruining the potential habitat of some yet to exist organism
|
