Crossroads
By Kadi
Rated T
Disclaimer: It has never been my sandbox, but I do enjoy playing in it.
A/N: This came to me during a fit of rage and feels after I finally read Beyer's Isabo's Shirt. I kept seeing references to parts of it in other fic, but I had never read it. I know… how did I miss that? I've been deep in my Trek feels for the past few weeks, rewatching everything, and one thing that struck me as odd was that Kathryn had such a small part in the clean up after Nemesis, I mean, she did order them there. Yes, I get the whole cameo thing, but my feels didn't want logic.
Many characters that appear will be recognized from the Titan launch books, or from the Voyager relaunch series. I tried to keep their positions as true to canon as possible, even as the gremlins took hold of this idea and it spiraled out of control inside my head. I can only blame the twin, kate04us, who was also kind enough to beta this for me. The whole thing was mainly developed from an idea she had for a scene that we sobbed over together as our rage at Chakotay (for how Voyager ended) took control of our feels. Granted it wasn't really his fault, but again, the feels don't want logic.
Chapter 1
It had been a long time since Kathryn Janeway had felt the thrill of excitement at the prospect of a new assignment. She was no longer the wide-eyed ensign, setting out on her first mission aboard the Al-Batani; grief and loss had tempered that young officer, but it hadn't buried her completely. She had always been an explorer at heart, a scientist at her core, and each new assignment, each new mission that she was assigned to would fill her with the same sense of anticipation for new discoveries. Ultimately, it was the Delta Quadrant that tried to break that part of her. It became difficult to experience those feelings when the next new discovery might bring death or destruction, or in many cases, both.
Her promotion to Admiral was something else that Kathryn thought might preclude that old sense of enthusiasm. While she would never speak the words to the Starfleet Counselor that was assigned to her following her ship's return from the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn had confessed to those closest to her that the Admiral's bar adorning her uniform felt as much like a punishment as a reward. She felt as though she had been grounded, and her promotion was the means of her chains, the yoke to keep her bound.
Her feelings, as it turned out, were not unique. Owen told her that they all felt that way when those extra pips were first pinned to their collars. There, mixed with the pride and the thrill of accomplishment, was the sense of loss at knowing they would never again experience the freedom that had come with standing on the bridge of their own ship, grief at knowing they would not experience the exhilaration of exploration and discovery in quite the same way again. Others would take their place, and they would have those experiences through the lens of being an elder, a wiser version of the officers that came after them. It was a new kind of exploration, and it had its own sense of accomplishments, but to her point, he agreed. It was not the same.
Kathryn considered the course of that conversation as she stood next to the large window that looked out from her office over the Presidio Grounds. Beyond that she could see the top tiers of the Golden Gate Bridge, on a clear day at least. As with most mornings there was a dense fog blanketing the sky, but the afternoon had the promise of being clear and sunny. Later, if she made it back to her office in time, she would be able to just make out the cool, gray waters of the bay. Kathryn didn't know if her meetings would conclude before the evening mist settled over the city, and she allowed herself a soft sigh as she leaned her hip against the ledge of her office window. She thought back over the evening she had finally given voice to Owen of the thoughts that had been troubling her since she returned to duty.
Julia had insisted that he invite her to dinner. The house was too quiet since Tom and B'Elanna moved out. The younger couple was making a life for themselves and their new family, and while Owen and Julia didn't begrudge them that, they had gotten used to having a baby in the house again. Owen confessed that he had even grown accustomed to listening to his son and daughter-in-law bicker. It hadn't taken long before he realized they were doing it for fun. Kathryn had agreed to the invitation, and looking back now, she supposed she had known there were things she needed to talk over with her old mentor.
She was still reticent to reveal those thoughts to him. There was a part of her that still sought Admiral Paris's approval, even now that they were – in rank at least – contemporaries. Kathryn would never be able to think in those terms. It was the same reason that B'Elanna and Harry still used her rank, even in informal situations. Owen had been her teacher, and her commanding officer, and later he was her sponsor and greatest advocate. He was also her most critical detractor, when she needed one. When she thought of Tom, Kathryn could understand the hard feelings that had arisen between father and son. She had known Owen in an academic and professional capacity first, and so she had never taken his censorship or criticism personally. She had needed it, welcomed it, even when it was hard to hear. No one liked to be told that they were wrong, but she had been eager to learn, and the Admiral willing to teach her.
Later, after Utrea II, when she was less eager and more reserved, and Owen was battered and less open to sharing, Kathryn had accepted what he could offer her with gratitude. As she grew older and more experienced, she filed his counsel away and used it where it was needed. Even now, when she had achieved more than either of them could have imagined, there was still a small part of her that balked at the idea of disappointing him.
After dinner and over several glasses of an incredibly rich California red, she explained the thoughts that had been troubling her. Commanding was like breathing to her now; after seven years in the Delta Quadrant, without a moment's respite or relief, or even a superior on whom to lean, sliding into command was as easy as donning the jacket of her uniform. She felt fettered now by the rank bar he had placed on her neck. She knew that her promotion was Admiral Paris's idea. He had advocated for it, but as they talked late into the evening, he explained that he had not needed to lobby quite too strenuously.
The Fleet Operations Commander, Admiral Akaar, had agreed with him quite readily that she was a resource to be tapped and used, and kept close to home. Owen had felt that she might resent him though. Kathryn let her gaze wander the grounds outside her office window. Everything was pitched in shades of gray. It looked as cold and unyielding as the years in the Delta Quadrant had started to make her feel. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her conversation with Owen that evening was a long time in coming, it seemed.
In all the years they had known each other they had never spoken quite so openly about the ravages of command. A few years ago she might have resented him for grounding her, she might have argued or railed, and blamed him for the circumstances in which she found herself. Maybe he was right, maybe she was a little bit wiser now.
Kathryn thought the Delta Quadrant had made her hard. Surely it had carved out pieces of her, but it was not until she was home, and her crew taken care of, that she was able to finally understand where those hard edges had really come from. She had existed there in a cage. It was a cage of her own making, and one that was wholly necessary for her own survival and the successful completion of her mission, but it was still a cage. Owen had known that. He had seen it in her, thousands of light years away, via brief communications through the Pathfinder Project, Owen recognized the bars of the cage that she had hidden herself behind.
"I taught you too well," he told her that evening. He once caged himself, out of necessity for protecting what remained of his battered psyche, and to protect his family from the horrors he had endured. He built walls that had damaged as much as they had helped, and learned the hard way that the deepest wounds came at the expense of their loved ones. He did not want that for her. The promotion was meant to free her. She had endured more than anyone should have to, and if she was going to live outside of a cage, she would need the opportunity to find her footing, to find her place again, and embrace the best parts of what the Delta Quadrant had made of her.
He opened a door. It was her choice to walk through it or not; he could not make the decision for her.
Kathryn drew a breath and nodded once. Her choice was finally made. She drew away from the window and walked back around behind her desk. There was a series of padds spread across the surface, and on the computer were the notes of the research she had done, and the plans she was making. Kathryn turned her attention to the wall that was adjacent to her desk. A wider monitor was inlayed in the structure. She walked toward it and swept her fingers across the smooth surface. The notes from her padds and computer appeared before her, spread out on a single screen. She studied the data, it was already committed to memory, but she wanted to make one last pass to assure herself there were no holes in her work.
There weren't. By now, after many weeks of planning, Kathryn was confident in her construct. This mission plan had already been through committee, and had the approval of Admirals Shanthi and Nechayev. Further, this mission had a specific Diplomatic agenda and required approvals from the Federation Council and the President's office.
There were rumors, early in her planning, that President Min Zife was prepared to veto the mission out of hand. Diplomacy and aid were not high on his list of ambitions at the time. He was attempting to rebuild the Federation, and while Kathryn agreed that was a necessary endeavor, it was apparent to her that he was playing a very short game. In the months since she had been home, she was wondering how it was that a politician could be such a poor tactician. Those ideas used to be beyond her thinking, but her position now required that she be better versed in the politics of the Federation than she used to be.
Before her planning and research became wasted time, though, Zife was replaced. Kathryn didn't pretend to know what the circumstances were that surrounded the President's sudden resignation, but her instincts told her that the recent weakening of the Federation had leant itself to the President's short career. Short sightedness was not an advantage to rebuilding efforts. The Federation had become reactionary in recent years, and while it was necessary for survival, it would not prevent further decline. The recent demise of their neighbors in the Beta Quadrant should have been enough to convince Zife, but it was not. It was fortunate that newly elected President Nanietta Bacco did not share that lack of insight.
The government of the once proud, secretive, and dangerously calculating Romulan Star Empire was now in ruins. The coup, and ultimate defeat, of the clone that called himself Shinzon had left a vacuum of power within the Empire's ruling class. In the absence of leadership other factions were beginning to break off, and the ambitious amongst those in the remaining government and military were creating alliances and seeking power for themselves. It was a situation that could create a great threat for the both the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Those outside the Empire had started to see the situation for what it was, an opportunity.
Those seeking to fill the void of power left behind by the Empire wanted to capitalize on the advantage of access that now presented itself. Smugglers, traders, and would-be conquerors were vying for the opportunity to gain knowledge and technology. The once tightly held secrets were now a pawn, a bargaining piece to the highest bidder.
The Federation was seated on the precipice of a choice. They could allow the region to fall into complete chaos, allow Romulus and Remus to completely tear themselves apart with civil war and unrest, or the Federation could do as it always had. It could smooth the unrest, pave the way toward peace, and ensure that its own borders and peoples were not unduly impacted. The memory of the Dominion War was still very fresh in the minds of everyone who had endured it. Another war simply could not be allowed to rage through a quadrant that was still recovering. It would be the destruction of all of them.
There were those, however, that believed if the Federation was to survive, it could not become mired in activities of militarized defense. It was built on the ideals of exploration and discovery, in cooperation and peace. To preserve that way of life, to get back any semblance of what it had been before the threat of the Dominion and Cardassia, and those that were now threatening in their wake, the Federation and those to whom its survival was entrusted, would have to reach beyond old prejudices, fresh scars, and new fears to provide the aid and guidance that could broker peace for them all.
Kathryn's mission was to lay the framework for that aid. While the Enterprise was slowly limping its way home, she had already started to pull together the pieces of a proposal that would take a delegation of diplomatic and humanitarian aid to Romulus, in the hopes of preventing further destruction and loss of life. It was behind the closed doors of those initial meetings that Kathryn first began to spread her wings in her new role. The first months after her return were spent in bureaucracy; it was a learning curve, surely. She was finally stepping through the door that Owen had opened for her, choosing to embrace the turn that her career had taken, and make it her own.
She wasn't lost anymore.
The Admiral chose her taskforce, like the pieces of a chessboard, she chose ships and the officers that would be best suited to the long strategy she was engaging. While the Alpha Quadrant was embroiled in war, and her contemporaries were hardened and militarized, Kathryn had been the lone diplomat and defensive end on the other side of the galaxy. It made her uniquely qualified to see beyond the haze of post-war fear and fatigue. She could see the bigger picture, and like the tactician that she had become, she maneuvered her peers and superiors until they capitulated to her objective in such a way that they could portray it as their own idea, while the very reflection of it was painted in a manner that it was clear who had woven those shards.
Nechayev had admitted that some of them wondered if she could still work within the confines of a command structure. As Fleet Admiral, she had the Captain's logs studied, pulled apart and analyzed. She read the transcripts of many of the entries herself. She was both impressed and concerned. Nechayev was one of the proponents of keeping Janeway aboard the bridge of a starship, however, but as the admiral responsible for the fleet, she had approached that idea with her own tactical movements in mind. She was not unable to see the bigger picture, though, and as Kathryn's mission plan went to committee and the data that the Admiral and her staff pulled together was studied and discussed, Nechayev could recognize why she was denied this resource.
She was still going to hold Janeway responsible for the very expensive case of Chateau Picard that she had to send to Owen Paris in payment for his having been right. Nechayev hated to lose, and especially to arrogant old goats like Paris. She was already plotting her revenge. When Paris was back in command of Starfleet Intelligence, buried beneath paperwork, he wouldn't be smirking at her in triumph anymore.
Having the Fleet Admiral in agreement to her mission plan was as important as getting the approval of the Fleet Commander in Chief. Ultimately it was Akaar and Nechayev who had to convince Admiral Shanthi, and playing to their ambitions could only be beneficial to Kathryn. If the Delta Quadrant taught her nothing else, it was patience. Even if that was not a practice she was especially good at.
Janeway's plan had many layers. The area around the Romulan Neutral Zone would be patrolled by a fleet of five ships, two Sovereign-class vessels, the USS Aegeus and USS Hamilton along with three smaller, but equally capable vessels, the Cerberus, Odyssey, and after much consideration and deliberation on her part, Voyager. Those ships would present a presence of control and defense. They were there to be a deterrent, to cut down on the smuggling, raids, and outside influence of those who would use the Romulans' situation to their own betterment. Captain Grant of the Hamilton was leading that fleet, and would be coordinating with the other Captains on her orders to protect the Romulan borders and outlying colonies.
Pulling this fleet together was where playing to Nechayev's ambitions had come into play. The Admiral knew her fleet better than Kathryn did. She had lost peers and friends to the war while she was on the other side of the galaxy. Kathryn intended to stop a conflict, not precipitate one. She wanted commanding officers that could understand when force was necessary, and when the threat of it was a better deterrent.
Janeway knew Captain Grant by reputation. He was an engineer who had found a position of command through necessity. In the early months of the Dominion War, his ship was critically damaged. With the Captain dead, and the First Officer incapacitated, Grant had stepped into command and managed to save both the ship, and most of the crew. In the middle of a war, where survival depended on good instincts and fast thinking, Grant found himself quickly put into another position of command; first officer of that same ship. He was captaining his own vessel now, and Nechayev spoke highly of him.
That concerned Kathryn initially. Alynna had a reputation of liking officers who followed orders and didn't question her motives. Reputations could be misleading, however. Two of the other ships that Nechayev suggested had Captains with reputations for being able to think outside the box, and it was Alynna who had wanted Enterprise sent to Romulus to begin with. Picard wasn't exactly known for blindly following orders. Kathryn decided to put aside her assumptions about Nechayev and took the other Admiral's recommendations into consideration.
Kathryn tilted her head as she studied the display before her. She swept her fingers across it again and the ships planned patrol routes appeared. Aegeus and Hamilton would patrol the greater area along the Neutral Zone while Odyssey and Cerberus would take the interior. Kathryn thought long and hard about assigning Voyager, but ultimately, she knew that her little ship had the maneuverability to patrol the inner outposts. With the Astrometric sensors they had added and enhanced in the Delta Quadrant, the ship would be in a better position to locate and intercept the small ships that were making smuggling and raiding runs just inside the Romulan borders.
While the area around Romulan space was being protected, another fleet of ships would make the trip across the Neutral Zone. The Federation Council had chosen delegates from a number of worlds, and colonies, with a background in the kind of militaristic subterfuge and noble caste system that Romulus had built the foundations of its civilizations upon. To make that delegation a success, Kathryn had chosen a group of ships that would provide humanitarian and diplomatic aid within the borders of Romulan space. She and her staff would be the official Starfleet representatives, and while she was engaged in the finer art of diplomacy, the newly promoted Captain Riker would command the operations of her taskforce, and his recently commissioned USS Titan would operate as her flagship for the duration.
There were those, Kathryn knew, who had expected that she would choose Voyager for that purpose, and were surprised when she had not. She needed an officer at her back that she could trust, and while it might have once been her instinct to reach out to her former crew, the Romulan situation required a Captain who was seasoned in diplomacy. This mission would require finesse and experience, and ideally she would have preferred Will's mentor, but with the revelations of Shinzon's existence, the loss of Commander Data, and the damage to the Enterprise, Kathryn knew only too well that she would be asking too much of Picard if she ordered him to return so soon.
In a single blow he had lost three of his long time senior staff, and there were rumors that his Chief Medical Officer was about to be lured back to head Starfleet Medical. That crew had been together for even longer than hers had been, and Kathryn understood the mingled sense of loss and pride in knowing that those he had taught, mentored, and trusted were moving on to greater things. The loss of Data was a blow that none of them could have anticipated, but Kathryn adjusted her plans accordingly.
Riker, the Admiral had decided, would do. Where he lacked specific diplomatic skill, there was his Counselor and Diplomatic Officer, Commander Troi to fill the gap. If Kathryn was honest with herself, it was the Counselor that had tipped things in Riker's favor. For the past decade and a half she had been instrumental in Picard's diplomatic success. The Commander's skillset was exactly what this mission required, and Kathryn could easily admit that her intelligence and talent impressed her when they met the previous year, during Voyager's long trip back to Earth following their return. Troi had easily dispelled her assumptions of what a Starfleet Counselor was meant to be, and had her confident and compassionate nature not been enough to put the then Captain at ease, Voyager's own EMH had nothing but praise for her abilities. When it came to the wellbeing of her crew, Kathryn trusted his judgment implicitly.
Then the Counselor had focused her attentions on Voyager's Captain. Whatever attempts Kathryn might have made at evading or coasting through those first sessions, better and more hardened officers had tried and failed, and if Troi was frustrated with her, she had never shown it. Kathryn wondered that she had finally met a force of will and stubbornness to rival her own, and while Voyager's crew had been her mission for seven long years, making sure that all of them, her Captain included, were able to integrate back into the lives they left behind was Troi's mission, and she rose to that occasion with a singular focus that was commendable.
Kathryn learned quickly, over the course of just a few days, that the Commander's position was not the starship fluff that many might want to believe. The Admiral could easily believe that in another decade the Commander would take her place at Starfleet Medical, heading the psychiatric division and overseeing the wellbeing of the entire fleet. That was assuming that the Diplomatic Corps wouldn't get their hands on her first. It would be interesting to find out how that future would unfold.
For now, Kathryn pushed those thoughts aside. She looked at the chronometer in the corner of the display and heard the door to her office open at the same moment. She glanced toward the sound and found her aide standing just inside the entrance.
"Admiral," the Lieutenant had his hands folded behind his back. "They are ready."
"Thank you, Decan." She lifted the padd that contained her notes and mission plan, and with a stop by the replicator for a fresh cup of coffee, Kathryn left her office.
They rode the lift down two levels and made their way to the East Tower briefing room. As they approached, they found Admiral Nechayev waiting outside. Kathryn's brows rose in askance. "Admiral, to what do we owe the honor?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I thought we agreed that you weren't going to commandeer this briefing for an opportunity to torment Captain Riker?"
"Tempting." Nechayev pretended to consider it. "Unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to. I wanted to come down and deliver the news myself." She watched Lieutenant Decan move closer to the briefing room door and wait there for the Admiral to join him. Alynna folded her hands in front of her. "We've had a change in plans. I know this is a poor time to start making changes to your fleet, and I would have preferred to avoid it, but I was out maneuvered."
The Admiral's annoyance was palpable. Kathryn suppressed the urge to sigh. She was not without the ability to adapt, but reordering her entire fleet would prove problematic, especially when she was about to meet with those captains for the first in a series of pre-mission briefings. "How did that happen?"
The clipped edge to her tone might have annoyed Nechayev under other circumstances; the Admiral could hardly blame her. This mission was at a critical point in its planning stages. The fleet would be shipping out at the end of the month, and Janeway was set to fine tune the more intricate pieces of her operation. "Jameson," Nechayev replied, a disgruntled edge filling her tone. The old jackass had been a thorn in her side for too many years.
Kathryn's brows drew together in a puzzled frown. "What does the Academy Commandant have to do with our fleet operations?" Apparently there was a bigger game afoot than she was aware of. The inner workings of Starfleet Operations and Fleet Command were a bit like a game of Velocity. There were volleys and points, and tactical advantages, the faster opponents scored first, but the more ambitious waited for the right angle, and the perfect shot. Nechayev was good at playing both sides of that game.
"He's been stealing my officers for years," Alynna explained. "I usually get word of it before it happens, and unless the officer in Jameson's sights really isn't suited to Command anymore, I can usually offset his offer. Jameson got to Captain Ellis before anyone knew that he was interested. He offered him the opportunity to design his own curriculum, and gave him direction over the Academy's Cosmology labs. It was a good offer." Annoyance flashed in her eyes. She would have been hard pressed to provide a better one, but she disliked the loss of opportunity.
"The labs?" Kathryn felt her face go a little slack with surprise. She all but dropped her jaw in astonishment. "That…" She whistled in appreciation, and not a little bit of envy. "I spent the entirety of my senior year at the Academy in those labs, they're very impressive." She thought back to what she knew about Ellis, and could visualize his duty history in her mind. Like her, he had studied Quantum Cosmology at the Academy, although he had chosen a command track from the beginning. Kathryn shook her head. "I suppose the offer was recent?" She would have appreciated knowing about it sooner.
"I found out about it a couple of hours ago. I've been working on finding a replacement. The Aegeus' s first officer is new to the job, as you know, so a promotion is out of the question." Nechayev had a number of candidates in mind, but she didn't want to reorder the fleet assigned to the Romulan Diplomatic mission too extensively, not this close to the start of the mission. "I've decided to leave it to you. I had my office send your aide the details. We can reassign the Aegeus and revisit the idea of having the Endeavor brought in to replace it, but…"
"Captain Shelby can be something of a wildcard," Kathryn nodded. "Yes, I know." She remembered the other woman. There was a time when the Captain was the foremost expert on the Borg, but time, experience, and other conflicts had changed that. "No, I still agree with you," Kathryn decided. "Her expertise is still more conducive to patrolling the trade routes between Cardassian and Breen space. Damn." She sighed. "I really wanted Ellis." The Captain was a scientist, but he was an able tactician. He was an explorer that appeared to understand the greater advantages of their objective. "Who else do you have in mind to replace him?"
"Jacob Paris." The name tasted almost bitter in Nechayev's mouth. She was already in a position to have lost one wager to Owen Paris, she was not looking forward to being witness to anymore of his preening. One of these days she was going to clip that old bird's feathers.
Kathryn almost laughed at the sour look that was twisting the Admiral's lips into a grimace. She had to clench her jaw and control her reaction. The rivalry between Nechayev and Paris went back years. She had no idea what had started it, Owen wouldn't say, but she understood it to be good-natured, no matter how seriously they both took it. "You could think of this as an opportunity," she pointed out. "On the few occasions that Owen has mentioned Captain Paris in my presence, he hasn't been entirely impressed that his nephew is languishing on a Starbase in the middle of nowhere. If you were able to bring him back into the fold, so to speak, Owen might have to owe you. From where I'm standing, that's not a debt that could be easily settled by a case of expensive wine. It might take him some time to even the score." Her head inclined, her eyes were alight with her amusement. "What I would like to know is whether or not Captain Paris can play well with others. With all due respect, and his pedigree aside, you and I both know that this mission was designed around a singular objective, and if it is as successful as I hope it will be, I don't want it to be overshadowed by questions of nepotism."
The admiral straightened. Her eyes flashed with indignation. "I think we can both agree that one thing I have never been accused of is nepotism." Nechayev lifted her chin. "I think the Captain's reputation will speak for itself. His record is impeccable, and no more than I would expect considering his so-called pedigree." Jacob Paris was the only son of Cole Paris, an officer who had his own notable service record, but had died before he could reach the same level of command success that his family was historically known for. "I'll have the details sent to your office, we can discuss it this afternoon when your briefing has concluded, but I've already decided that Paris is being reassigned to Aegeus. He's an asset that we can no longer afford to ignore."
"Understood." Kathryn nodded. Her input would be allowed, but it was unlikely there would be any changes to the Admiral's decision. It was, ultimately, Nechayev's fleet. Kathryn was only borrowing a small portion of it for a time. "Will there be anything else, Admiral?"
"No." Alynna smirked at her. "I've interrupted your schedule enough. I can torment Riker another time. I think I'll have my staff schedule something for later this week. I don't want that extra pip going to his head just yet. God knows it took him long enough to accept it." For that alone, Nechayev was going to make Will pay. "As you were Admiral."
Kathryn watched her go and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She turned her attention to her aide instead and walked over to join him. "Alright, Decan, I can feel your disapproval. We can begin now."
The Lieutenant simply arched a brow at her. "We are only 4.7 minutes behind schedule, Admiral. Are you certain that you would not like to wait a little longer? You are already late. I am certain the Captains will not mind."
The corners of her mouth twitched, but she did not smile. Whoever said that Vulcans were incapable of sarcasm had obviously never spent time with one. "I seem to recall our having this discussion before, Lieutenant," her tone was just indulgent enough to offset her feigned admonishment. "A Starfleet Admiral is never late, we arrive exactly when we mean to; the others simply chose to arrive early."
"I see." Decan inclined his head at her. "In that case, Admiral, I am pleased to inform you that the assembled officers were 4.8 minutes early for the briefing, and with the exception of Captain Ellis, whose absence has already been explained, everyone is present and ready to begin."
"I applaud your efficiency, Lieutenant, and I thank you." Her eyes glittered with barely contained mirth. "At the risk of delaying things for even a second longer, I suggest we proceed." Kathryn tapped her padd against her leg and walked through the doors.
The briefing room was long, with a wall of windows overlooking the grounds of Headquarters, and beyond that, the Academy. Were it not for the fog, they would have a view of the Nova Squadron Control tower. On another wall, there was a wide view screen; Kathryn strolled the length of the room, along the windows, and rounded the table to approach it. "Captains, Commander, good afternoon."
At her arrival, each of the heads in the room had turned in her direction. The officers had been chatting amongst themselves while they waited for her, but she watched them take their seats now. Her gaze swept over each of the officers present. She dropped her data padd to the table and draped an arm across the high backed chair that she stopped beside. She waited until they were seated before she addressed the room. "I'd like to thank you for your patience, your additional four minute wait was unintentional." She slanted a look at her left, were Decan had taken position near the view screen, and could almost swear he had sighed at her. "As all of you know, most of you have been chosen to be part of the Romulan Diplomacy Taskforce. Captain Picard is here as a favor to me. The Enterprise will not be joining us, for obvious reasons, but for this initial briefing, at least, the Captain was kind enough to lend us his time. As I understand it," she looked in his direction now, and there was a more compassionate glint in her eyes, even as she turned the conversation to lighter matters, "recent defections among your crew have caused an unusual amount of replacement interviews."
"Yes." Data would be impossible to replace, and he understood the Admiral was steering the conversation away from the losses they had suffered during the initial confrontation of the Romulan Coup. This initial briefing would set the mood for the remainder of the mission, and beginning on a sour note would set a poor tone. "The ungrateful fiends jumped ship on me. It's been a terrible imposition." As he said it, he cast a look to the man who was seated opposite the table. He was lucky enough to have them at his side for that long; it would have been unfair to ask for more. "But I have the feeling you know good help is hard to find."
"Indeed I do." Kathryn hitched her heel against the base of the chair she was standing beside and leaned her hip against it. "At the risk of antagonizing the Lieutenant who is responsible for my schedule any further, I suggest we get to it." She nodded at Decan and watched as he keyed a few commands into the data padd in his hand. The view screen beside him lit up immediately with a split-screen map of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants on one side, and a schematic of Romulan space on the other side. "Some of you may be asking yourselves why the Federation is choosing to involve itself in the Romulan problem at this time. It is no secret that we are currently struggling to rebuild our fleet, resupply our outposts, and replace resources lost during the Dominion War. The reason for that is simple, instead of having an advantage with the fall of the Romulan Empire, what we have is a vacuum of power. Consider for a moment the advantage that the Romulans might have had eighty-five years ago if the Federation had not agreed to provide aid to the Klingon Empire when Praxis was destroyed." Kathryn placed her coffee on the table and pushed away from the chair to walk over and stand beside the display. She pointed at the area to the right of the image that represented their part of the galaxy. "At the time, scientists believed that the Klingon home world would be unable to sustain life in just three decades. Beyond the greater philosophical and humanitarian implications, had that been allowed to happen, what we know of the Beta Quadrant today could have become an extension of the Romulan Empire. We may have found ourselves in quite the precarious position," Kathryn pointed at the opposite side of the schematic. "With the Romulans on one side, and the Cardassians on the other, there may not have been a Federation for the Dominion to attempt to conquer. This is all supposition of course, and built around worst case scenarios, but we find ourselves once again poised on the knife's edge of a choice that could strengthen our position or vastly weaken it."
"With the complete destruction of the Romulan Senate," Picard explained, "there is no single ruling faction within the Empire at this time. We are hearing that Senator Tal'Aura has claimed the Praetorship, and while she has the support of the Proconsul and a few former members of the Imperial Fleet, it is the current leadership of the Imperial Fleet that would like to take control of the government, and based on my conversations with Commander Donatra, the absence of central leadership will soon have the fleet breaking off into separate factions too."
The admiral nodded in response. It was the Captain's rapport with Commander Donatra that had led her to extend the invitation to the briefings. It was also another reason that she had chosen Riker to head the taskforce. Having a representative from the Enterprise could work in their favor. "Starfleet Intelligence is also concerned that a third faction, headed by the leaders of the Tal Shiar will attempt to seize control. In the past, it has been the Senate that kept the Tal Shiar reigned in, and our operatives report that the agency has members in place within both the Imperial Fleet and Senator Tal'Aura's circle of advisors."
"The Romulan people are wary of the Tal Shiar," Troi explained, "and with good reason. The Romulans viewed those outside their borders to be enemies, but the Tal Shiar have no problem waging war within their borders. It is silent and secretive, they rule with fear. In the absence of a governing Senate, the people are beginning to assert their own wishes on their society. The Tal Shiar will not allow that to continue. Dissenters will begin to disappear, and the people will be brought to heel. But not before the Tal Shiar uses the unrest to displace Tal'Aura; according to Commander Donatra, there are many who understand the Senator's miraculous survival is too convenient."
"While the Empire is tearing itself apart, there are factions outside its borders that are moving into position to take advantage," The Admiral explained. "Patrols watching the trade routes have already encountered an increase in smuggling. Getting goods outside the Empire is something that has always happened, we know this," she spread her hands in acknowledgement, "our bigger concern are those willing to take advantage of the more vulnerable colonies and outposts in the border areas." Her gaze swept the room again, and the assembled officers that would be charged with helping to carryout her Romulan mission. "I won't speak to the experiences that any of you had during the war. I am well aware that I wasn't present during the conflict. What I can offer you is the opinion of someone who is looking at it through the same lens that history may view it."
As she spoke, she began to stroll the length of the room, walking behind the Captains who appeared to be listening raptly as she painted a picture for them of history repeating itself. "When the Cardassian Union decided to break treaty and began encroaching into Federation Space, their first targets were the border colonies." From the corner of her eye, she saw Chakotay shift. No one in the room knew better than he how that had turned out. "When the Dominon became involved, furthering the growing conflict, operatives were employed to sow the seeds of discontent between the Federation and our Allies. While this was occurring, Cardassia began to make allies of the Breen, and chose to look the other way as factions like the Orion Syndicate and the Ferengi took control of trade routes. While the Federation was warring with the Klingon Empire, the Cardassian Union and the Breen Confederacy were pushing outside their known borders just a little further all the time. While our intelligence operatives were concerned with growing tensions on one end of the galaxy, and our forces were engaged in conflict on the other, it was our Federation Protectorates that suffered the most. All the while, the Dominion was gaining a greater foothold in this quadrant and preparing to launch an all out offensive. While it was fortunate that the Federation was able to cease hostilities with the Klingons so that we could align ourselves against a greater foe, the damage was done."
Kathryn came to a stop at the other end of the table, near where Captain Grant of the Hamilton was seated. "Two of the strongest powers in this region of space had managed to weaken each other enough to allow a bigger bully to take control of the playground; or at least attempt to do so."
Captain Caldwell of the Cerberus leaned forward in her seat. She was younger than most of the others present, but she had commanded a ship during the war, and her record was impeccable. "You've obviously done your homework, Admiral, no one here would dispute that fact, but isn't the history lesson you've just given us exactly the reason why the Federation should remain neutral during the Romulan crisis? We've only just started to replace most of our fleet; our ships are crewed by fresh faces while veteran officers have been tapped to take command of the ships coming out of Utopia Planetia. I don't mean to sound impertinent, but as you already stated, you weren't here. Can we really ask our crews to put themselves in a position to face another conflict while our home worlds are still rebuilding?" She shook her head before continuing. "I am compassionate to the Romulans' plight, please do not mistake me on that point, in another decade I would more than agree that we should help them, but right now I have a hard time seeing how we can justify that when our Protectorates are struggling."
"If the area of space around the Romulan Empire continues to destabilize," Chakotay responded from her immediate right, "it won't matter how the Romulan people are tearing each other apart. Other factions will take advantage. There are Klingon houses that still view the Romulans as being indebted to them for events that occurred more than fifty years ago. If those houses attempt to take control of Romulan space and resources, what is to stop them from turning on their own government? If the Klingon Empire begins to fracture, it won't take long for our treaty to dissolve and those hostilities to make their way into Federation Space." From the moment he read the outline that Kathryn had given them, he understood where her ideas were rooted. Seven years given him more than enough experience to know the inner workings of her tactical mind, and diplomacy was always her first instinct. She would prevent conflict where she could, and if she couldn't, she was more than prepared to fight. Chakotay allowed his eyes to lift and met her gaze. "The Gorn, the Tholians, there are a number of powers inside the Beta Quadrant that would benefit from a destabilized Romulan Empire."
"Yes." She allowed herself a small feeling of triumph that he could still read her so easily. Kathryn had wondered if they would still have that all these months later. "That also includes any factions inside Romulan space that may choose to defect. Without the ruling body of the Senate in place, there are those with the intent and capability to begin striking at Federation targets. I want to stop the conflict before it can begin. We can provide aid to the Empire, start the process of shoring up their borders, and with any luck, lay the foundation for an alliance that would preclude any future hostilities."
"Oh," Chakotay tilted his head at her. "Is that all?" There was amusement shining in his eyes. They had been down this road before, he thought, Kathryn wanting to form an alliance that would strengthen her position. "Did you build any contingency plans into your strategy to contend with scorpion stings?"
While the comment went largely over the heads of the others, Kathryn simply pursed her lips at him. "As a matter of fact, the thought had crossed my mind." She turned her heel and walked back to the other end of the table, where she had left her notes. Kathryn lifted the padd and keyed a few commands. The screen changed and revealed to them ship deployments around the neutral zone. "The Klingon Ambassador to the Federation has brokered an agreement with Chancellor Martok to come to our aid should our Diplomatic mission fail, and the Romulan Imperial Fleet mobilize against the Federation. Martok has ordered forces loyal to his house to the border," while she spoke, several markers appeared on the screen, filling the space between the Romulan and Klingon empires. "The Klingons are only too eager at the idea of helping us to dispel a Romulan threat, but I'm still optimistic that it won't come to that."
Kathryn walked over to stand near the display again. "The Diplomatic envoy will proceed to Romulus aboard the Titan, the Romulans have, so far, agreed to talk. Captains Mason and Harris will be providing operational support with the Jamestown and Gryphon. Your ships will also be largely in charge of coordinating the humanitarian aid that we will be providing. Captain Grant will be coordinating our efforts along the Neutral Zone with the Hamilton. The Odyssey, Voyager, and Cerberus will join the Aegeus in that task. "I'm sure by now you've all noticed that Captain Ellis is absent from these proceedings. I was informed just before I arrived that he has accepted a transfer to the Academy. His replacement is as yet unnamed, but I am sure the Captain will be joining us at our next briefing. Captains Riker and Grant have already submitted their mission plans to me, and I have approved them. Lieutenant Decan will make sure that you have those copies…" She paused when she met the Vulcan's gaze and shook her head. A smile curved her lips. "Or rather, has already transferred them, along with the full data packet that my staff and I have put together for you. I would like to reconvene in a few days, once you've all had an opportunity to review the information. If Lieutenant Decan has not already scheduled that meeting, I am certain you will receive notification of it soon. Are there any questions?" Kathryn watched Captain Riker swivel in his chair. The familiar glint in his eyes promised trouble. She slid the data padd in her hands onto the table and folded them in front of her. "Yes, Captain," she lifted a brow and waited for impact.
"As Captain Caldwell pointed out, you've obviously done your homework, and you've managed to cram seven years worth of Federation history into a few months' time. I was wondering Admiral, when did you have time for all of that?" Will smirked at her. "As I remember it, history wasn't a subject that you were especially fond of. You were always running off to finish a paper about one cosmic phenomena or another."
Kathryn shook her head at him. Hidden in the reminder of their Academy days, and the well-known fact that nothing had interested her then so much as the Quantum sciences, was the inherent joke that she had been expecting. "Well, Captain, when you find yourself in a situation where your First Officer refuses to stop and ask for directions, you end up having a lot of time to read."
Chakotay leaned back in his seat and turned it toward them. He met Riker's gaze and shook his head. "The best part about not being someone else's first officer anymore is not being blamed when they choose to remember events differently than everyone else. Enjoy it."
"Hm." The admiral tapped her bottom lip while she considered that. "Tell me something, Captain, just how is my ship these days?"
"The replicators have stopped malfunctioning, so it must be fine," he shot back.
As the others chuckled, Kathryn decided that round could go to him. "Thank you, everyone. Dismissed." She watched them file out, save for two, and made a mental note at the responses she had received from the first briefing. It was promising. Caldwell was one of those Captains with a penchant for thinking outside the box, she was ambitious, but methodical. Kathryn appreciated her views and looked forward to the discussion that would come once the Captains had time to review the rest of the data they had been sent.
Their mission was shaping up to be just as interesting as she had anticipated it to be.
-TBC-