Memoirs of a Timelord by Ralph Rotten Page B

the whole sister thing going on...and now it was over.  I felt guilty for even thinking of ignoring the data.  What kinda asshole stands in the way of something like this?  I loved my sister and even if it meant losing her I was gonna do the right thing and use my vast powers as a Temporal Editor to get them together.  Besides, it was good practice for my upcoming Causation training.  Really, when you think about it, this little matchmaker job was exactly the kind of work Timelords do on a regular basis.  We are the unseen hand, we manipulate your world with invisible fingers. [Cue ominous music]  
           In the end, it really didn't take very much of my super-Timelord-powers to get the job done.  All I had to do was ask Veena if the next time she had her thighs clamped around the Captain's head, could she ask him to transfer Lieutenant Rogars to Beta shift.  Heh, like five minutes later it was done.  What can I say, Veena had some impressive thighs.
           After that it was easy, all I had to do was get them in the same room and it was Westside Story all over again.  But there was a hitch: Lieutenant Dreamy was a bookworm who spent his time in the Library or Stellar Cartography.   Roxy was a physical person so she was either on a security patrol, in the gym, or drinking in the club with her sisters.  Even on the same shift, these two swam in different circles.  She was Command Staff, he was Engineering Staff.  The only time these two would cross tracks is if there was a security problem in Engineering.  
           So I decided it was time for a fire drill.
           See, it was actually perfect timing.  Veena, Aldoo and I all had an assignment due for Alien Species.  We had to carry out a native function while impersonating another species.  
           See, there were several layers to this whole Species training we undergo, starting with sampling a few hundred races, then spending a few hours as an alien species, and on up the scale until you eventually spend years living as a foreign lifeform.  Actually, by the time I was done with Species training I had lived as fourteen different species for the combined equivalent of sixty-three Terran years.  Before you can become an effective Editor, you have to possess a solid understanding of what is to be the other gal, right down to her panty shields.  How can you hope to have a real perspective if you spend your entire existence as the same genus?  You can't just empathize; you have to live it to truly understand a species.
           But this was back in my very early days of Polymorphic training.  I'd studied the theory and Sociological aspects of foreign species, but I'd only been a few different critters myself.  Veena was really good at this, but Aldoo and I were still pretty green.  Anyhow, we three had an assignment due and this seemed like the perfect time.  
           By this point in our new lives, all three of us had our own hot rods, custom enhanced by m' boy Morbesta, so it was easy for us to appear to be Klath ships.  I knew from their database that they had been given fair warning and detailed analysis on the owners of the domain they were about to pass thru, so when they saw our ships I'm pretty sure they shit their pants.  The Klath were some verrry bad dudes.  The kinda species that took pride in wearing your face to a costume party.  They were absolutely xenophobic, ruthless, and through plunder they had acquired a significant technological edge that they used to thwart anyone who entered their domain.   At least that was the rumor the crew had been fed.  The real Klath had been significant a century ago, but by this time on the calendar they were just a buncha clowns with a killer rep.  Not only that, but we were years away from modern Klath space.  It'd been fifty years since their borders were this far out.  But they don't know this.
           So we steam in like axe murderers, neutralize their weapons