See, what I would do is invert the polarity of the tachyon flux across the primary deflector and then reroute all emergency power to the EPS system, with the end result of creating a chronometric pulse that literally sends the Klingons to next Tuesday. I then violate the neutral zone in that time honoured tradition of Starfleet captains everywhere, rescue the people at my leasure, and then warp back to Risa for a weekend of fruity drinks and public klingon-mocking.
The Klingons won't arrive until Tuesday.
Well if they're going to be difficult and/or late about it, we'll just have to send them to Thursday instead.
And of course, as it always does, the time travel shenanigans will soon become a clusterfuck of cosmic proportions. Before you know it, there'll be six of me, and one will be evil - you'll be able to tell because he'll have a goatee and dreams of world domination. And, as we know, one can't just be rid of their evil dopplegangers without some kind of dramatic confrontation and a bit of personal growth.
Me, I'd just beam them all out into space. But then, perhaps I was the evil doppleganger all along, and I was just smart enough to invest in a razor.
They'll never know.
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