Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is Star Trek Voyager, they belong to TPTB, mores the pity, I just play with them now and then.
Lizzy74656
Jay Seers.
It was whilst doing a story search in Google that I came to the conclusion that there are an increasingly large number of fans out there in cyber-space who really thought that a certain Star ship Captain and XO should have got it together and wrote stories and fiddled pictures to reflect that view. But did they? Should they? Thus it got me wondering and this is the end result. The satellite mentioned in this story is a model from the company PANAMSAT and was launched in 1996, the only difference is the fact for the sake of the story it has an extra addition – a little poetic license.
=/\=
It was just a normal humdrum day in the Delta Quadrant and the Federation Star ship was just cruising along at their usual standard warp speed through this uncharted region of space, with the crew going about their normal duties across the ship's fifteen decks.
The Captain was in her Ready Room reading through the usual routine reports from the various ships' departments, whilst enjoying her usual hot black brew.
On the Bridge the First Officer sat in his command chair staring at his console and checking over more reports that he'd be handing over to the Captain later in the day and the duty rosters for each department.
At the Conn, the human male glanced over his unvarying board, whilst in his mind he was calculating new schemes for betting pools, to increase his stock of replicator rations; as his last scheme had cost him dearly – which was nothing new.
The Vulcan Security Officer stood calmly at his station as only a Vulcan can, methodically going over his console, checking and reviewing all the data it displayed before him. Once that was completed to his satisfaction, he reviewed some security scenarios for his department to run through on the holodeck in the coming days; especially to do with the Borg or any other hostile alien threats.
At the operations station the once evergreen Ensign Kim, was also watching his console, assessing the data and wondering what was for lunch that day. He was to put it simply – bored.
Down in Sickbay – on deck five, the EMH was singing to all and sundry as he carried out some routine medicals on the unfortunate crew members he had selected at random. They were mainly from the lower decks and they complained bitterly as to why it couldn't be the Bridge crews turn for these dreaded medicals; but their complaining cries went unheard, as the Doctor's singing drowned out all other vocal noises.
On deck eight section twenty-nine – Astrometrics, Seven-of-nine was tutoring Icheb in his ongoing studies, whilst the pair of them checked the scans of the area of space the ship travelled through, not just on their current heading, but the surrounding area as well.
In engineering where the heart of the ship pulsed with a regular unfailing beat, her Chief kept her workers on their toes; making sure that their vessel stayed on course and was ready for any battle that came their way; internal as well as external.
Today things were quiet and running smoothly, so smoothly that everyone went about their daily routines in an automated way – as if on auto-pilot. Even the ever cheerful alien Chef seemed subdued as he stirred the Leola root stew for the crews' lunch – no surprises there, then.
=/\=
It was no more than a blip at first as it tickled the ships' sensors, but soon it became a nagging itch that needed to be scratched. Then the ships' sensors went into overdrive, finally alerting the crew to its presence – whatever it was, at this stage it was anyone's guess.
Captain Janeway came marching out of her Ready Room, her expression stern ready to face the enemy and defend her crew to her death if need be.
The Amerindian XO stood to greet her silently a look of mutual understanding passing between them, deep trust holding them firmly together. Kim and the Vulcan worked their respective consoles to understand the nature of the threat, whilst Paris the helmsman slowed the ship to full impulse speed; a well oiled team.
"Mr. Kim?" Janeway asked, her full question in her tone of voice rather than her words, why waste your breath when all knew what was required of them.
"I'm not getting any clear readings yet," he said not looking up from his board.
"Can you give us a visual?" Chakotay – the XO asked retaking his seat to check his console readout.
"I think so," not sounding very sure, yet he put it on main viewer.
"Magnify!" she ordered wondering what was out there. Everyone stared at the unlikely looking object, too small for a vessel, or to be of any discernable threat to Voyager; but they knew from past experiences looks could be deceiving. Paris though frowned at it puzzled.
"I'm getting a password request?"
"What?" she demanded startled.
=/\=Seven-of-nine to Captain=/\=
"Go ahead, Seven," she responded, as Voyager edged closer to the strange object, grateful for the interruption to her troubling thoughts.
"The object has no weapons of any sort. It does have a large amount of data stored in its databanks. The computer is having problems identifying it," Seven informed them crisply.
"Have the Borg ever come across something like this?"
"Negative. Too small to warrant notice."
"Space debris!"
"Affirmative; Will continue to monitor and scan," she said and signed off. Silence permeated the Bridge, only Paris continued to frown at it as if trying to place its configuration.
"It is not emitting any coded signals, apart from the password request," said Tuvok.
"Any visual Id?" Tom Paris asks softly, still puzzled by the object.
"I'm not sure," Kim frowned working his console. "The computer scans keep coming up with negative results and yet!" he left the thought hanging. "I may have found some sort of visual id; if you can call it that."
"Put it on screen, Mr. Kim," Chakotay encouraged calmly. Homing in on a section of the object's main cuboid body, he brought up an image of a square shaped plate with writing on it.
"PanAmSat Hughes Electronic Systems," Janeway read out, frowning at it, confused.
"Hughes? As in Howard Hughes? Wasn't he an aviator?" Chakotay asked softly, equally puzzled, having moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Captain.
"PanAmSat Hughes Electronic Systems! Of course communications satellites!" he exclaimed excitedly.
"Mister Paris?" queried Janeway surprised by his excitement.
"PanAmSat Hughes Electronics Systems was a late 20th Century manufacturing company of communications systems and satellites. That is an Earth satellite," he explained, with a broad smile.
"If that is from Earth; what's it doing out here?"
"Only one way to find out! Bring it aboard," he said cheekily.
"That would not be a prudent move."
"Tuvok, that is from Earth's 20th century. It shouldn't interact with our systems as it works on a totally different concept."
"Tom's right about that," piped up Kim. "It is why the computer is having problems identifying it," he added, giving his friend a smile.
"Mr. Tuvok, your objection is noted," Janeway said stalling his response. "Bring it aboard," she ordered, hoping she wouldn't regret this later.
=/\=
The object sat in the middle of an empty shuttle hanger bay – they hadn't quite got around to replacing another lost shuttle yet – its solar panel wings still intact and attached, although the whole satellite looked a little worse for wear it was in remarkably good working order for some thing that was over 400yrs old. Paris, Torres, Seven-of-nine and Chakotay stood staring at it whilst Kim scanned it closely with a tricorder.
"This is puzzling," moving around the satellite. "I still can't access its database. I have full schematics of its internal workings, but the database computer – that is a different story," he said, closing up his tricorder and joining the others.
"What we need is a cell phone!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"A phone; like the one we used on Earth that time we were thrown back to 1996," Tom said, his eyes alive and eager.
"Pity you left it behind."
"Actually, I didn't," he grinned. "I'll go and get it; although I should be able to contact this satellite from my quarters," he said and left the hanger bay.
"At least someone's intrigued by this space junk," said Torres, yet her expression countermanded her words. Chakotay walked around it and noted something else on the name plate.
"Model PAS 3R. Hughes HS601. One, nine, nine, six. Nineteen ninety-six."
"The same year we were on Earth!"
"Intriguing!" said Seven-of-nine.
Paris came running in cell phone in hand and a huge grin on his face. "Good job I managed to find a way to keep the battery charged," he said, opening the flip part and then tapped upon the key pad a few numbers. The satellite made a soft whirling noise for a second or two.
"That appears encouraging," noted Kim.
"Let's try a complete phone number. If I remember my history right this should be the PanAmSat's main office number," he explained, having tapped in a series of numbers that set the phone ringing. At first nothing appeared to happen, but then the object came alive with clicks and bleeps, causing them all to take a step back startled. Tom stared at his phone. "It's answered me!" he said surprised. "Automated message," he grinned. "This number is not available at present, please try again later!" he repeated out loud and laughed.
"I'd say it's not available!" Torres responded sourly, yet her eyes were alive, this was after all an engineering puzzle.
"Let me know when your new 'toy' reveals its secrets," Chakotay said with a genuine smile, leaving the Shuttlebay and the four friends to play.
=/\=
Janeway asked Chakotay to join her in her Ready Room and give her a verbal report on what they'd discovered about the old earth satellite they'd netted that uneventful day.
"Nothing so far; except for the fact that it was launched in the year 1996," he told her, sitting on the sofa under the view ports, where they were relaxed with each other, but still apart as dictated by proper Starfleet protocol.
"Wasn't that when we were there?" she asked startled.
"True. But I don't think we drew it in with us when we were returned here. It just too scared for that."
"What about that ellipse?" she inquired, drinking her hot black brew. Chakotay thought she drank far too much of the stuff. Janeway looked at him and then her mug raised an eyebrow questioningly and then saluted him with the mug before taking another sip. He shook his head in amused affection.
"As to the ellipse; I don't think so or it wouldn't be here. Its solar wings are still attached and have kept the satellite in proper working order. Paris is trying – through that cell phone he brought back with him – to get it to respond."
"And did it?"
"Yes. This number is not available at present, please try again later!" he said grinning having – unknowingly – imitated the automated messenger's tone.
"I should think it would be. Besides like us it is a long way from home."
"Indeed. Let's hope our new 'toy' can reveal its secrets." Janeway had a strange feeling that his description of the satellite as a toy was apt; she hoped though not that apt.
=/\=
Tom kept trying the number, but still kept coming up with the same automated response. "It's no use, I can't seem to get in," sounding frustrated.
"Let's leave it for now and go and get something to eat. We've been at it for hours," said Kim, his enthusiasm waning somewhat. Seven though continued to stare at the large cuboid pile of electronics that made up the satellite. They had managed to remove the solar wings as they were only hampering their efforts to get near the object.
"Seven!" Tom called. "Coming?"
"I will join you later," she responded absently.
"Seven?" he questioned, making as if to return to where she stood in the bay.
"Leave her, Tom," said Torres sounding irate as well as tired; thus they left the blonde female alone. She moved thoughtfully to the nearby computer console they'd step up and called up the schematics that Kim had downloaded of the satellites internal workings. It seemed strange that it had a databank storage capacity at all.
"Computer display the primary usage of this type of satellite," she ordered, watching the display in front of her.
#Unable to comply#
"Explain?" frowning puzzled at this response.
#Satellites of this type have no use#
"Explain!" intrigued and puzzled.
#Schematics show this satellite was for redirecting information, no other primary function is known#
"Display how this was done," she said. The display altered to a simple diagram of two ground based transmitters/receivers with the satellite overhead in orbit of a planet. "Explain symbols of ground based items."
#Receiver satellite dish, computer and cell phone#
"Can these items both receive and transmit information through this satellite?"
#Affirmative#
"So every time Paris dials that number the satellite is trying to find the ground based receiver!"
#Affirmative# the computer responded.
"No wonder we couldn't get in. It is doing exactly what it was designed for!"
#Affirmative# Seven-of-nine only smiled and downloaded this new information into a PADD and left the Shuttlebay.
=/\=
Once Seven had explained the primary function of their particular satellite it appeared to be an easy matter in accessing the stored data. What they discovered was quite a revelation.
"They look like a journal or something."
"I don't think so. More like stories."
"But stories of us?" asked Torres.
"Did those in 1996 know about Voyager?"
"I wouldn't have thought so, Seven!" said Paris, reading a short summary of a story labelled P/T – Romance.
"How could anyone in that century know about events that wouldn't take place until the 23rd Century onwards!" questioned B'Elanna Torres, reading a list of story website links that depicted the Captain and XO together.
"I might have a theory about that, but I'm not sure if it is sound," said Kim cautiously, sitting at a table in the Mess Hall with a pile of PADDs scattered across it, all housing the data they'd finally managed to download from the satellite's database.
"Let's hear it, Harry," encouraged Paris.
"You, Tom know quite a lot about the 20th century right?" The pilot nodded confirmation of that fact. "Didn't some people try to predict what their future might look like and make it into films, books and television programs?"
"Sure they did. Most got it wrong though. Captain Proton!" he grinned.
"What though if someone foresaw a future that predicted hope; a better life, not just in technology, but in attitudes, guiding principles and the like; an end to wars, poverty, greed, with education and a purpose that benefitted every one?" Silence greeted these expressed thoughts, but the more they contemplated it along with what they'd discovered so far, it made a lot of sense.
"Reasonable," Tom Paris agreed softly as if he was still assessing the idea.
"And if this person or persons turned this ideal into a television program..." Kim added leaving the thought hanging between them.
"Like those Soap opera's that Kes and I watched whilst we were there!" Neelix said.
"Possible," Paris said, silently reviewing his knowledge of the twentieth century and found it going up a notch in his estimation.
"But to get it this close!" Torres exclaimed, her tone interrupting his quiet thoughts on the subject, as she obviously could not quite believe it.
"Why not!" he queried, his tone indignant at her lack of faith in the human spirit of ingenuity and foresight. "If what that fellow Starling got up to was anything to go by; admittedly he had future technology to play with, but it seems feasible that a vision of the future could fuel the development of electronics and other devices.
Before Torres could respond another voice interrupted them.
"What have you discovered?" Chakotay asked joining them at their table.
"Take a look!" B'Elanna invited handing him a PADD from her pile.
"Interesting," he commented, having given it a brief scan; something he'd become apt at doing during his time as First Officer and scanning reports and the like. "What you said Paris about visual fiction fuelling fact isn't far off the mark," he noted taking a seat.
"Why do you say that, Commander?" asked Neelix, puzzled by the list of stories he was reading as they were mainly romance stories, nothing to do with technology.
"Well, I remember reading about an author who had this future totalitarian governmental authority keeping another subjugated planetary government under their control by threatening them with a bomb, which they'd detonate if the people ever revolted," he informed.
"Nothing unusual in that," noted Paris.
"It gets interesting because the planet was very important to this totalitarian government as it was in a strategic position and the people knew they wouldn't destroy the planet," warming to his subject and attentive audience.
"Did the people call their bluff?" Torres asked, intrigued.
"Yes," he responded simply and smiled.
"Don't keep us in suspense, Commander," Neelix said eagerly, Seven-of-nine just quietly listened.
"These people thought the bomb was just a bluff, but the bomb was real, very real, but it wouldn't have destroyed everything only all organic matter."
"Thus leaving the planet and any buildings more or less intact," Seven said softly.
"That's right. The Military personnel had an escape shuttle that would have taken them into orbit until the dust settled and they could rule the planet unopposed."
"How does that relate to what Paris said?" Kim asked, knowing someone had to voice the obvious.
"A decade after this fictional television program aired, the then US Army, field tested such a device."
"Wow!" Neelix said in awe.
"Was it ever used in war?" Kim asked quietly.
"Not to my knowledge. But a lot of things that happened before the third world war on Earth and even how that started are not fully documented."
"Even some missions by the Enterprise are classified, especially if they ended up in Earth's past. Rumours, Chakotay," he said noting the expression on the man's normally placid face. "My father may have been privy to that sort of information, but he is a true and loyal Starfleet Officer."
"I don't doubt it, Tom," he responded sincerely, picking out a story from the list Torres had given him and started to read, it was about himself and his feelings toward a certain female Starfleet Captain. "These are good though," he said absently as he was lost in the words of the story.
"Most of these stories are listed as J/C or P/T some are even C/P or J/7 and classed as NC17. What is NC17?" Seven-of-nine asked puzzled.
"Er... It's a rating that anyone under seventeen years of age cannot or rather should not view or read the material, as it will have an adult theme, ie, sex scenes or have graphic violence described in them," Paris responded, feeling a little uncomfortable, especially as he was looking at a list of stories that were mainly C/P NC17. He looked at the First Officer and wondered and met deep brown eyes that asked a question, so he silently handed the tattooed male the PADD.
"Interesting," Chakotay said carefully.
"Are you?" Tom Paris asked quietly.
"No," he answered simply and smiled as he saw the young pilot relax in relief. He put that PADD down on the table and went back to reading the one Torres had given him.
"All these stories appear to have the same basic premise and then go no-where," noted Seven sourly.
"Even those by the same author," Kim added despondently, having noted there wasn't much – if any stories about himself; they were mainly J/C, which implied that the Captain did have feelings for the Amerindian XO; not that she ever showed any – publically at least.
It was at that moment that the woman herself joined them and automatically picked up a PADD – conversely the one Paris had shown the XO – and started to read it before anyone really registered that she was there or what she was doing.
"Goodness!" she exclaimed, sitting down next to Chakotay as she read. He didn't acknowledge her presence until she nudged him a few minutes later and asked him a question;
"Can you do that?" she said, showing him the passage she was reading, startled by the detail. He looked confused a moment and then glanced quickly at the passage of text.
"You don't want to go there, Kathryn," he said, adding her name softly.
"But can you?" she persisted.
"Captain!" he growled at her, his tone like that of a parent to a needling child. Looking suitably chasten she put the PADD down and picked up another, giving him a sideways look; but he'd returned his full attention back to his story reading.
It was certainly interesting and he wanted to find out the outcome; although from what he'd heard Seven-of-nine summarise about the stories in general the ending might be predictable.
When he reached the end of his second story by the same author, he was left feeling rather deflated – all that written effort only to end with a confession of a sort or re-start the whole premise again, in a different setting. He looked shyly at the woman beside him as absorbed in the story she was reading as he'd been in his. Sighing softly he picked up another PADD that listed all the stories, by author and subject matter. The J/C romance list was long, very long. Some were friendship/family; hurt/comfort; general or spiritual/mystery. He saw one or two subjects that intrigued him so downloaded them into a separate PADD and decided to leave; as he required some space to think.
=/\=
Harry Kim and Tom Paris watched him go and exchanged meaningful glances as they both looked at the Captain who was totally oblivious to the fact that the male she was reading about was no longer present.
"These certainly make better reading that the usual daily reports," Janeway commented brightly, having finished a romance story about a Starship Captain and her XO. Her tone though had Paris, Torres, Kim and Neelix staring at her incredulously as it was well known how their XO felt about the Captain. "What?" she asked puzzled.
"Well..."
"Don't Starfleet," Torres snapped angrily. "If she can't or won't see what's right under her nose," her tone getting angrier by the minute; B'Elanna had felt Tom squeeze her arm halting her tirade, thus she got to her feet. "I have better things to do," she said instead and called Kim as 'Starfleet' to join her.
"Coming, Maquis," he responded; giving Janeway a despairing look as he left the table and joined the Chief engineer.
"Would someone care to explain?"
"Sorry, Captain, not this time," Paris said quietly, also getting to his feet. He reminded Neelix about his unattended cooking pots and then exited the area.
"Yes of course," he noted sadly, his expression unreadable as he too left the table for his kitchen and the crew's next scheduled meal. Janeway glanced at Seven-of-nine who just raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.
=/\=
In his quarters Chakotay sort a calm of thought, by just sitting on the floor cross-legged, eyes closed, his medicine stone held in both his hands, breathing deeply. He had not touched the Akoonah feeling his emotions were too erratic at that moment to affect a proper vision quest, never-the-less he heard her voice in his mind.
/You are troubled, my Friend/ He smiled ruefully at her words. /I know it is stating the obvious/ she admonished him. /But it needs to be said/
"I know," he whispered with a sigh.
/Why do you continue to seek what cannot be had?/ she asked her tone a mild rebuke.
"I don't know," he responded quietly, feeling the stone warm and smooth between his hands, if only life were similar, he thought. "Maybe if we'd stayed..."
/NO/ her tone sharp. /She would only have made the best of it, but she would not have recipucated in the same way as you/
"How can you be so sure?" he demanded, his heart aching at the truth of her words.
/You know the answer, without me telling you/ she said gently, her rasping tongue licking his silent tears. /You are her friend. Do not lose sight of that/ she gently told him, her musky scent assailed his nose for a brief moment and then she was gone. Chakotay sighed deeply and opened his eyes. He returned the stone to his open medicine bundle and folded it away before putting it back in its special place. He washed his face refreshing himself and then went back on duty.
=/\=
Over the next few days many of the crew read some of the stories from the old Earth satellite as they enjoyed their lunch or down time in the Mess hall as the PADD's containing the data had been left there, and since no official word said they could not, they did.
It was Ayala who picked up on the sadness surrounding his friend and commander, the XO; thus he spent sometime with the man during their off-duty hours, trying to assess his mood without directly asking and what it might mean.
"Ayala, out with it!" Chakotay said a little amused as they shared a light snack together.
"What me!" he queried trying to make light of things and play innocent.
"Lieutenant," he said softly with a dark hard undertone to his voice, yet his eyes smiled.
Ayala sighed, knowing he shouldn't push things any harder, or he'd be on the wrong end of this man's dark temper. "How do you feel about these stories? Especially the ones listed J/C romance?" he asked quietly, looking directly at the man a serious expression gracing his soft Hispanic features, so his friend would know he wasn't teasing.
"How do you think?" Chakotay responded looking down at his half eaten meal.
"Chakotay don't play, please," he said, his words and tone conveying his sincere concern.
"I don't know," he sighed exasperated. "One minute I think I'm winning and then the next the door slams in my face – protocol!" he growled out the last word, his expression also telling the other man how he felt about 'that' word and all it stood for. "As to those stories; that's all they are, stories nothing more."
"Do you really believe that," Ayala teased gently, provoking a twitching around his friend's mouth and eyes the tell-tail start of a smile.
"Shouldn't you be back on duty!" he said instead, his voice serious. Ayala grinned and stood up to leave; knowing he'd gotten as far as Chakotay was going to allow him to go.
"You could always write your own story. No-one would be any the wiser. I know she is reading them," he said close to his friend's ear.
"Maybe. Now get lost or I will put you on report for being late."
"Aye, Aye, Commander," he said and left the area.
Chakotay watched from where he still sat as others read the stories and shared their thoughts on them with their friends; some looked in his direction and exchanged shy looks or hesitant smiles with him. Feeling uncomfortable with their unwelcome – however well meaning – scrutiny he left for his quarters, having completed his duty shift for the day – thankfully.
He wasn't sure how much longer he could reasonably sit beside that woman, day after day and stay calm and sane, despite the number of years he'd bowed to her will over 'protocol'. The times he'd wanted to scream or yell at her... 'I love you, you stupid woman or are you so blinded by said protocol, that you can't accept what everyone else can see?' As the words ran silently across his mind, his frustration and anger died too, as it did most days now, feeling the tears threaten instead. 'Am I really that transparent?' he silently asked himself, 'Or am I deluding myself?' Not feeling inclined to answer the unanswerable he heaved a deep calming sigh, picked up the PADD with his choices of stories and picked one at random and sat down to read.
=/\=
He was grateful that he'd downloaded these stories completely so that only he would know their content and subject matter. Only two were J/C and both were not romance, which is why he'd chosen them. The first was mainly to do with Janeway and her response to a bunch of roses sent to her, the second spanned at least two decades and was a 'what if' scenario; both took place after Voyager had returned to Earth. How that had happened neither really said, although the second seemed to hint at a second/future Janeway.
"Help!" he muttered. "One is bad enough," he said to the room at large, replicating himself some spiced tea. As he looked again at the list of his choices, Ayala's words came back to him.
"You could always write your own story. No-one would be any the wiser. I know she is reading them."
"No ridiculous idea," he muttered, trying to dismiss the notation. He put the PADD down and decided to pick up on some unfinished departmental reports. Yet as he wrote in his usual fair factual style, the idea for a story plot kept distracting him, so he made small notations with pencil and note-pad. Once the reports had been completed and sent to their usual destination, he looked over his handwritten notes and the gel of an idea was born that made him smile. First he required some additional research material, material that one of his chosen story writers had mentioned.
"Computer, what is known about this other J/C mentioned?"
#Information is not available# was the immediate response, there was a soft pause. #The PANAMSAT satellite has a full file about them# He was told.
"Download all information to this station," he said eagerly.
#Acknowledged#
"Has this information been accessed by anyone else?" he asked, worry creasing his brow.
#Negative#
"Keep it that way," he ordered.
#Please rephrase the query# the computer said mildly.
"Make sure no-one else can download or access these files."
#You require the files to be encoded to your command codes only?#
"Affirmative!" he said grinning softly. "Including my choices from the story files," he added. The computer only bleeped as an acknowledgement of his order; adding to his list of stories all others by the same authors and subject matter including all references to this other Jay see.
=/\=
It was at the senior staff meeting, a few days later, that these stories were added to the usual agenda; yet not in a positive light. The fiery Chief Engineer brought them up first, having asked the Captain a pointed question:
"Captain have you looked at the proposal I tendered with you last week?"
"Proposal?" she queried, looking puzzled.
"Obviously not!" Torres responded angrily.
"I've been busy with other matters," Janeway said trying not to give the game away, by not looking at her XO. He wisely decided not to say anything publically, yet.
"I have reported on several of my staff reading these stories whilst they were on duty," noted Tuvok calmly.
"You're not the only one," Kim added sourly, still put out by the fact there were none of him.
"I have taken into consideration every departments concerns and be assured steps will be taken, to limit access to these stories," Chakotay calmly announced. Janeway shot a glare at him, making it very obvious that she hadn't been consulted or been informed about it.
"That's good to hear," said Torres. "Maybe we'll get some work done," giving their commanding officer a pointed glare of her own. Soon after the meeting was dismissed and the crew filed out, except for Janeway.
"Commander," she called, her tone halting him in mid-stride from leaving the briefing lounge for the bridge.
"Captain?" he queried quietly, once they were alone, standing hands behind his back.
"Why didn't you tell me about this little plan of yours?" He remained silent and just stood where her voice had stopped him earlier. "Chakotay," she said, her tone demanding.
'That's right, when information is not forthcoming demand,' he fumed silently, although nothing of these thoughts surfaced onto his placid features, watching her stand up eyes flashing blue fire. 'Well not this time,' he thought softly resolved. "I'd better returned to my duties," he said, nodding acknowledgement to her and strode away to the bridge.
Janeway wasn't quick enough to halt him from leaving this time and fumed semi-verbally to herself, before sitting back down at the table and picking up the PADD she'd brought into the meeting. You can be sure – dear reader – that it wasn't an engineering report.
=/\=