Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager is owned by Paramount. Not mine. Oh well.
A/N: The story begins shortly after Caretaker, part 2.
A/N 2: This story has been edited for character development, yay! Thank you to reviewer who made me realize it's been a long time since I posted this story and it needed to be un-Mary-Sue'd.
A/N 3: 6/17/18 edited again because FF decided to totally mess up my formatting. Thx to the people who notified me!
Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were going over the new crew appointments. Once they agreed on B'Elanna as Chief Engineer, the rest of the list had gone rather smoothly.
"Jane Malory," Janeway said, picking up the next PADD and looking at the picture of the dark-haired woman with blue eyes. She looked very young. "Where can we put her?"
"She was my lead tactical officer before Tuvok came along," Chakotay replied.
"She's so young," Janeway said, surprised.
Chakotay shook his head. "She's got a baby face but she's an excellent tactician." He smirked slightly. "Those baby blues can out-bluff a Ferengi, trust me."
Janeway skimmed through the woman's file, intrigued. "She was in Star Fleet before?"
"Yes, captain."
The PADD's records only stated, "Lt. Jane Malory, Star Fleet, resigned stardate-" And gave a date from three years ago.
"And she joined the Maquis a year afterwards," Chakotay finished. "I didn't ask what she'd been doing in the meantime."
Janeway nodded decisively. "With Tuvok's approval, then, Lt. Malory will be in Security."
o - o - o - o
Lt. Cmdr. Tuvok approved. While undercover in the Maquis he'd observed Lt. Malory's actions as auxiliary team leader, and he was logically pleased that the captain had assigned her to security.
After giving the former Maquis members crash courses in Star Fleet regulations and procedures, he started to build a series of training simulations for the entire department. They were exercises designed to stimulate teamwork between the Star Fleet personnel and the former Maquis, giving them time to work out their differences on the holodeck instead of in the heat of a crisis. His security teams were responding satisfactorily.
Once the entire crew had merged into an acceptable synthesis, Tuvok discarded the training scenarios. He scrubbed the possible-mutiny scenario, and filed the rest away in case of, as the humans said, a rainy day. Space was extraordinarily vast, and humans were extraordinarily irritable when bored.
And then, Tuvok found that someone was periodically calling up the training simulations. Every two weeks, right on the dot, Lt. Malory was using every other holodeck ration to run a training scenario. Interesting.
"Computer, locate Lt. Malory."
"Lt. Malory is in holodeck one."
She was there now. Tuvok decided, as Chief Tactical Officer, he should inspect his subordinate's training.
When he entered the holodeck, he was immediately assaulted by the bright, glaring sun. He basked in its warmth for a few moments; it was never warm enough on the ship for true Vulcan comfort. However, this did not look like any planetary surface he had configured for a simulation.
"Get down!" came a savage whisper, and a hand shot out to drag him behind a pale-yellow rock outcropping. "Where's your camouflage?" the holodeck character demanded.
Tuvok raised an eyebrow at the dirty, deeply tanned rebel in front of him, wearing sand-colored clothes and carrying what looked like a bent crowbar. "I am looking for Lt. Malory," he said.
"Computer, freeze program," a sharp voice commanded from behind Tuvok's right elbow.
He turned, startled but impassive as ever. How had she crept up on him? "Lt. Malory," he acknowledged, taking in her confident grip on a thick wooden root.
"Cmdr. Tuvok," she replied, snapping off a quick salute.
"At ease," he said.
She relaxed and pulled her hood farther over her head to shield her from the bright sunshine. "Did you need something, sir?" she asked.
"No," was his reply. "I merely came to observe."
"Oh." She cleared her throat. "Well, have a seat, sir. The bad guys are coming in any second."
"Where are we, Lt?" Tuvok asked.
"The planet of Rogues. Warlords fight for supremacy and use the planet's mineral deposits to trade with passing ships. Anybody rich enough to get off the surface leaves." Lt. Malory gave him a wry grin. "And of course, the Voyagers are the victims. We crashed here a few days ago and we're working to repair the ship, and help the outcasts," she waved to the sandy rebel, "defend their territory in the meantime."
"I see," Tuvok said. He waited a beat, and then added, "I did not program such a scenario."
Her confidence faltered a bit, and she grinned sheepishly. "I may have altered the parameters a tad, to make it more interesting."
"I see," Tuvok said dryly. "I presume you also made your role the lead."
She tugged at her hood. "Well, yes sir."
He nodded. "Carry on."
She grinned and readjusted her grip on the root. "Computer, resume program with Cmdr. Tuvok as an observer only." She dashed away to hide behind the rock outcropping as the program resumed.
Other camouflaged rebels shifted into position as a squad of crude ships appeared from the west, around the curve of a hill. "Flyers incoming!" a sentry hollered, and Tuvok recognized him as a holographic Lt. Ayala.
"Hold your positions, wait for the signal," Malory said into her simulated communicator. "Wait for it..." She waited until the ships were literally overhead and yelled, "Now!"
A whole slew of people popped up from the ground like rabid prairie dogs and began to throw things into the air: roots, scrap metal, stones, rope. The objects flew upwards into the ships' intake valves, and as the crafts skimmed over them, they began to explode and crash.
The holographic Voyagers and native Outcasts moved in with phasers and plasma rifles, pulling the warlord's fighters out of the crashed ships and herding them into what looked like a hay cart.
The simulation ended, leaving Malory in her pristine uniform, and Tuvok with a sudden chill from the absence of heat. "What did you think, Cmdr.?" she asked, pleased as punch.
"Your performance was satisfactory," he told her.
She beamed at him, recognizing the high praise for what it was, and they left the holodeck.
Tuvok decided that Lt. Malory would be suitable for training for bridge duty at Tactical, giving them a full complement of officers to rotate through shifts. He brought the recommendation to Cmdr. Chakotay, and the commander agreed.
o - o - o - o
A few weeks later, Tuvok, Chakotay, and Harry Kim were part of a landing party on an inhabited world. They, along with Mr. Neelix, were supposed to negotiate and trade for food and supplies. The quartet were in the marketplace when the native police swarmed in and arrested them and several other people for not having proper trading licenses. Neelix managed to talk himself free and get back to the Voyager.
"They took them to the main police compound," Neelix said urgently. "They're to be tried and fined, but one of the vendors told me that it takes months for anyone to be processed through the system. And the thing is, we do have the proper licenses. I've traded here before at least twice."
"It's a scam," Malory said quietly, from her position as auxiliary tactical officer.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"What do you mean, lieutenant?" Janeway asked.
"I've seen it before on another world," Malory said, lifting her chin. "It's a scam. They arrest someone on trumped-up charges, and then to get them out without going to trial costs an arm and a leg."
"But they're innocent," B'Elanna protested.
"That's why it works," Malory replied, shrugging. "We all know they're innocent, but the jury is probably paid off, so we have to get them out, and we'll pay whatever they demand. If we were regular spacefarers."
"Then we get them out ourselves," Janeway decided. "Can we beam them out?"
"The compound is shielded," Paris replied.
"We could take a team in," B'Elanna said.
Paris shook his head. "That place is a fortress. It would take an army to get in there."
Malory frowned, and called up the detailed scans of the compound, the parts that weren't shielded. "Actually..."
They all looked at her. "Mal?" B'Elanna asked.
Malory pursed her lips and pointed to a section of the schematic. Her expression changed from unsure to confident. "Where there are air vents, there is hope," she declared.
B'Elanna groaned. "This is that bar all over again."
"I'm surprised you remember it, since you were concussed at the time," Malory said, amused.
Janeway cleared her throat, redirecting the conversation back to the main point. "You have an idea?" she asked pointedly.
Malory nodded. "Yes, captain. Three men, phasers, a can of fog, and a bunch of disposable holo imagers."
Janeway raised an eyebrow. "That's a very vague idea."
The grin changed to a smirk. "I've done it before. If there aren't lasers we won't even need the fog. Captain," she added, clearing her throat.
Janeway gave her a hard glare, trying to decide if Malory's confidence was arrogance or experience. She looked at B'Elanna.
The younger woman nodded.
Janeway turned back to Malory. "How would it work?"
Malory explained it in detail. "And I'd like to pick my own team," she finished.
Four of her crew against an entire compound of police seemed like ridiculous odds, once again. "Are you absolutely sure this will work?" Janeway asked slowly.
"Yes ma'am," came the steady reply.
Janeway nodded. "Then go ahead."
Malory jumped to her feet. "Give me thirty minutes to prep the others and we'll be ready to go on your orders, captain." She practically ran out the door.
Janeway shared a glance with her remaining team. B'Elanna spoke up. "Trust me, captain, she can do this."
o - o - o - o
Thirty minutes later, Malory and three security officers were standing in the transporter room, each of them armed with a phaser, a holo-imager, and a tricorder. None of the officers were above 5'8", 150 lbs.
"Keep the comm line open," Janeway told Malory.
She nodded sharply. "Yes captain."
"Energize."
o - o - o - o
Malory and her team beamed down into a storage closet. As soon as they were fully materialized, Malory took off the cover to the air vent. "All right, let's go," she said. "I'll take point, Ayala you guard the rear."
They boosted each other into the vents and started to crawl towards the holding cells. They all fit reasonably well; there was a reason Malory picked the smaller crewmembers.
Fifteen endless minutes later, they were right on top of the hallway outside the holding cells. Malory carefully unhooked her camera from around her neck, took a picture of the hallway, and lowered herself down halfway. There was a security camera a few feet from her, scanning the hallway. With one quick movement, she looped the imager's strap around the camera and hooked it securely. The camera was now looking at the picture of the empty hallway.
Malory dropped down to the floor and gave the 'ok' sign. The rest dropped down after her, and they proceeded down the hallway to the holding cells. There was a code on the door. Malory frowned, and took out her tricorder. The device had the code in a few seconds, and she opened it. She gestured for them to go ahead while she guarded their six.
Ayala gave her a thumbs-up. He poked the holo-imager into the hallway beyond, took a quick snap, and reached up to hook it around the camera. He gave the okay, and they crept in, Malory moving to the front again.
"Commander?" Malory called quietly, as they spread down the corridor, phasers at the ready.
"Over here," Chakotay replied quietly.
She came over, and saw Chakotay, Tuvok, and Kim in one cell. They looked mobile. "Hold on," she said quietly, and set the tricorder to hack the lock. The door swung open and she carefully tested the entrance for trip-wires. "Any injuries?" she asked, entering the cell.
"Harry's got a sprained ankle," Chakotay said.
"But I can walk," Kim added, standing up with the others.
Malory handed a spare phaser to Tuvok and ushered them out. As soon as the group of Voyagers stepped back into the hallway, an alarm began to blare. "They figured it out," Malory hissed, irritated. "Move!"
They ran for it and encountered a group of armed guards in the hallway. Phasers started going off, and then another group of guards came from behind.
"Through that door!" Malory yelled, dodging a vicious backhand from one of the guards and throwing her own right hook. "It's unshielded past there!"
The Star Fleet officers organized their retreat to the door. Kim got cornered and Malory, being the closest, came to the rescue. She karate-chopped one guard in the neck, but the other one was ready for her and landed a solid punch to her shoulder, slamming her into the wall. Kim could have sworn he heard something crunch or pop, but Malory didn't even flinch. She knocked the guard back and grabbed Kim's arm. "Come on, Harry."
Tuvok stunned a guard on their tail, and as soon as Malory and Kim were through the door, Malory said, "Voyager, seven to beam up."
o - o - o - o
While the Doctor was healing everyone's cuts and bruises, Malory was giving her report to the captain. "Got in and out, two injured, no deaths on either side," she summed up. "Not bad."
Janeway noticed the way she was holding herself and frowned. "Are you injured, Lt?"
The Doctor came over. "Your arm," he stated, eyeing Lt. Malory.
She gave him a tight smile. "My shoulder is dislocated. I can't quite move it right now."
Kim stared at her, aghast. "Why did you let me lean on your arm if it was dislocated?" he demanded. "Are you crazy?"
"It doesn't hurt that bad," she dismissed him, waving her other hand.
The Doctor frowned at her and ran a tricorder scan. Other than the dislocated shoulder, she was perfectly fine. "Most people say that a dislocated shoulder is the worst kind of pain there is."
"Most people," she agreed. "Can we just pop this back where it should be, now? I'd like to have lunch."
"Of course." He placed his hands on her arm and shoulder. "One, two-" He did it on two, and with a crack and a pop, the joint was back in place. "Three."
Malory let a slow breath hiss from her clenched teeth. "Somehow I knew you were gonna do that," she groaned, and slowly rotated the joint. "Ow, yeah, it's back in. Thanks."
He held up a hypo. "This is to reduce the inflammation," he said. He scanned her again, and his eyes narrowed. "Lt," he said slowly, "were you ever in the Cardassian labor camps?"
The rest of them tried to look like they weren't listening, but they were listening with acute attention.
Malory zipped her jacket back up and looked at the Doctor with calm eyes. "I defy you to find someone among the Maquis who wasn't," she replied.
"Answer the question please."
"Yes, I was."
"For how long?" he asked, waving the tricorder around.
She hesitated, and then murmured, "Long enough to sneak one hundred and fifty people out."
"Which would be?" he prompted.
"Eight months," she finally said, and ignored the gasps of the others.
The Doctor nodded slowly. "That would explain it. Thank you, lieutenant. Go get some lunch and rest that shoulder."
"Yes doctor." She ducked her head and hurried from sickbay.
"Eight months?" Janeway said, turning to Chakotay as he stood from the biobed.
He shook his head. "I never knew... she never said anything about it after she joined us."
Janeway nodded, and later that evening added a commendation to Lt. Malory's file. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Malory had to have been something more substantial than just a lieutenant stationed Earthside. The captain decided to dig a little deeper, but Lt. Malory's records were absolutely plain and dull.
The next day she summoned Lt. Malory to the ready room. Malory arrived promptly. "Captain," she said, at perfect attention.
"At ease, lt. Would you like some coffee?"
"No thank you captain."
They sat down on the sofa. "Lt," Janeway started, wondering how to approach the subject, "what was your posting in Star Fleet before you left?"
Malory glanced at her cautiously and returned her gaze to somewhere past the captain's right ear. "Star Fleet Command," she replied. "Intelligence Special Operations."
Janeway refused to let her jaw drop.
Malory gave her a slight smile. "I'm sorry, captain, but I can't tell you anything else. Classified."
"I understand. Why did you leave?"
Malory shrugged. "Star Fleet was not doing its job. No one was helping the colonies."
"So, you decided to strike out on your own?"
Malory grimaced. "I was going to contact the Maquis. Then I found myself in one of the labor camps. I pressed my advantage and got those people out. I had to escape before they realized it was me. I gave myself three months to recuperate and then I found Chakotay's crew fighting the good fight." She shrugged. "And from there, you know the rest."
"Yes." Janeway gave her a smile. "Thank you, lieutenant." She added after a moment, "if you need to talk, my door, or Cmdr. Chakotay's, is always open."
"Thank you, captain. I appreciate that." Malory gave her a brisk nod and was dismissed.
Captain Janeway went back to her paperwork, satisfied.
o - o - o - o
Two weeks later, they were in the 20th century, orbiting an Earth that was not yet their own.
Tuvok reminded the captain that humans had not encountered Vulcans yet, and suggested that Lt. Malory go in his place.
The captain agreed. "What do you say, Lt. Malory?" she asked.
Malory grimaced. "I, I would rather not, captain."
They all looked at her in surprise. "But you love the 20th century!" Paris protested. "We watched all the classics together!"
"Yes, but," she sighed, "it's 1996, captain. The year Khan Noonien Singh and his fellow Augments are, ahem, rounded up and removed from Earth."
"And?" the captain asked. "North America's West coast was largely unaffected by the Eugenics Wars."
"Yes, I know, but," she huffed, "this was really not how I wanted to come out- Captain, if any government agency from that time period sees me, or heaven forbid, an Augment, it will throw everything into chaos."
The entire group stared at her. "What are you talking about?" Paris asked.
Malory bit her lip. "I'm already down there. If I go down there right now it would cause a paradox."
"What."
"The earlier me. Is down there. In New York. Or possibly Calcutta, I don't really remember..."
"The earlier you?" Janeway echoed. "Lieutenant, explain yourself."
Malory took a deep breath. "This really isn't the best time to- you know what, never mind. The computer advancements have already happened, and they'll be gone in thirty years anyway. Captain Braxton can wait another day."
"Lieutenant," Janeway said, in her best Death Glare/Tell Me Now combination.
"Actually, that would be Admiral Jane Malory, retired," Malory replied sharply. She tapped at the conference table's monitor. "Computer, terminate program Malory Alpha Four for this console only, authorization Malory, Admiral Jane T."
"Voiceprint required," the computer said.
"Long live Arthur Rex, king of the Britons," Malory said firmly.
"Working."
The console switched on, and information began scrolling down the screen.
Malory gestured to it. "This is my entire affiliation with planet Earth, captain, starting in the year 1944 CE."
They all crowded around the console, looking at the information. There were records for Jane Malory, British citizen attached to the War Office, 1944 to 1958, retired. Records for Jane Malory, joint CIA/MI-6 operative from 1960 t0 2025, retired. Records for Colonel Jane Malory, United States Air Force, 2025 to 2030, transferred into United Earth Military, Brigadier General Jane Malory, 2030 to 2080, retired. Records for Dr. Jane Malory, PhD, working with people such as Zephram Cochrane and Henry Archer, until 2150. Records for Commodore Jane Malory, United Earth Starfleet 2150 to 2161, retired. Records for Admiral Jane Malory United Federation of Planets Starfleet, 2161 to 2368, retired. The only difference in the files' attached picture was the color of her hair.
"How is this possible?" Chakotay asked, shaking his head.
"What are you?" Janeway asked flatly.
"I used to ask myself that every day," Malory replied, sitting on the edge of the table. "It's a long story, captain."
"Then, Admiral, start talking."
Malory nodded slowly. "I came to Earth in 1943. I spent a year observing this planet, and decided you had potential. I crafted an identity for myself as Jane T. Malory. Your planet's romantic literature is some of the best, by the way."
"Thomas Malory," Janeway realized. "Le Mort d'Arthur."
"Precisely." She pointed to the screen. "And my record speaks for itself."
"How did no one find out?" B'Elanna asked. "Didn't anyone notice you weren't aging?"
"I told them I was Steve Rogers' descendent. Nobody questioned it."
Paris choked on a laugh. "Captain America?" he asked.
"Hey, he was a brave man. He wouldn't have minded me using the serum as a cover."
Janeway held up a hand before the conversation derailed even further. "So you are telling me, that you are over four hundred years old."
"Yes."
"What species are you?"
Malory glanced out the window, her eyes focused on the stars beyond Earth. "It doesn't matter anymore. My home planet is gone, destroyed in a galaxy far, far away. My people are scattered through the universe as dozens of distinct species. I'm the only one left, I think. The only one with any memory of our heritage, anyway." She sighed and looked pained. "You might even by my descendants, for all I know. Basic bipedals all share a common ancestor in this galaxy."
Janeway felt a headache coming on. "Why do you read as human?"
"I have the capacity to restructure my own DNA."
Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. This is getting way too complicated for the moment. Let me get this straight. You can't go down to the planet, because your earlier self is already there, and you might cause a paradox."
"Yes. Stacking on another paradox would destabilize the paradox that we're already in the middle of, and I would rather not be responsible for destroying the future."
"Wait, what paradox?" Kim asked.
Malory pointed out towards deep space. "Braxton tried to prevent the paradox, causing us to go back in time. He's down there now. We try to get back to the future using his technology, therefore causing the paradox. Braxton tries to prevent the paradox, causing us to go back in time. Or something like that. Nobody's gone down so we don't actually know what's going on."
"How reassuring," Paris said dryly.
"It is. If this is a circular paradox that means we've already succeeded and gone back to the future where you belong."
"Not we?" Chakotay asked.
Malory gave him a Look. "Commander, I am too old to belong in any time period."
"All right," Janeway said, "Malory, you will stay onboard and feed us any information you can from this era. We'll be relying on your expertise since records of the time are spotty. Tuvok, find a hat. Dismissed."
"So, what do we call you now, Admiral, or Lt, or what?" B'Elanna asked Malory as they went out.
Malory raised an eyebrow. "I'll leave that decision up to the captain."
Janeway did not respond, her mind on the problem of Captain Braxton's time ship.
Malory shrugged, and let her crewmates do their jobs. She stayed on comms with Tom almost the entire time, feeding him social cues and interactions.
"No, not the USSR!" she hissed. "It's just Russia by now!"
Tom cleared his throat and tried for the mysterious spy angle. He didn't have the aura for it.
o - o - o - o
The Voyager was back in the 24th century. The EMH now had free reign over the ship, and during the few calm days that followed, Captain Janeway thought long and hard about what it meant to have Jane Malory on the ship. On the one hand, having a Star Fleet Admiral, albeit retired, meant never having to worry about making important decisions, since she could pass those off to the Admiral. At the same time, Malory had already gone through three hundred years of Starfleet service. Did she really want to give that burden to her?
"Just ask her," Chakotay urged the captain. "Technically it's not even your decision to make."
Janeway ceded the point and called Malory to her ready room. "Admiral," she said, offering her a seat.
Malory sat down with poise and aplomb and raised an eyebrow. "Well, captain? My fate?"
Janeway was startled by the change in Malory's demeanor, and reflected that this was what five hundred years of military service could give you. She had no doubt that Malory had used her 'admiral' mask to great effect many times. "Actually," she said, taking a sip of coffee, "I wanted to know what you want."
Malory's other eyebrow went up. "Meaning?"
"If you went back to your cover story as a lieutenant..."
Malory smiled slightly. "Everybody would freak out, and it would throw all the department heads off kilter."
"Yes."
Malory nodded. "So, I stay as Admiral." She gave Janeway a soft grin. "Makes your job easier, then."
Janeway turned her attention to the coffee cup. "That's not why I brought it up."
"Of course not, captain. You have a martyr complex that the best of captains get. Rogers, Archer, Kirk, Picard." She gave her a knowing smile. "It would certainly take care of the ex-Maquis' field promotions, and whatever hard decision we need to make out here to survive."
"Admiral, with your expertise, isn't there a way to make our journey shorter?" Janeway asked hopefully.
Malory shook her head. "I can't get us back to Earth any faster than we're going now. Space travel is space travel, I'm afraid. And the technology that I'm familiar with, it would be like trying to build a holodeck out of sticks and stones."
"I see." Captain Janeway held up a PADD. "These will be your new quarters."
"But I like my roommate," Malory protested, and then sighed. "But, the chain of command must be preserved, at least so poor Amira doesn't feel stifled." She frowned at Janeway. "Uh-oh. I can feel it."
"What?"
"My amount of paperwork just tripled. I should've convinced my yeoman to retire with me."
Janeway snorted. "We can split the paperwork."
"Excellent." Malory sighed. "I don't even know how I get myself into these situations. One moment I'm traveling, looking for a nice place to put down some roots for a while, and then, bam. I'm suddenly the top of the food chain in the Delta Quadrant." She perused the PADD. "So. Prime Directive style decisions, I will take those, but day to day operations, and in the battle, I cede to you, captain. I am perfectly happy as Aux Tactical officer."
Janeway raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't want to take command?" she asked.
"Technically I'm retired," Malory pointed out, "so this entire conversation is moot."
"Technically, as soon as you accepted your position, your commission reactivated," Janeway retorted.
Malory huffed. "Sometimes I really hate joining the military."
"So you won't take command?" Janeway repeated, wanting to make sure that this unknown wasn't going to sweep the ship out from under her feet.
Malory shook her head. "I can do it, certainly, but, I'm not the kind of captain this crew needs. That is you, Captain Janeway, and this is without a doubt your ship."
Janeway gave her a crooked smile. "I think you can call me Kathryn, now."
"Call me Jane, then. No need to stand on formalities."
"What's your real name, if I may?" Janeway asked.
Malory hesitated, and then shook her head. "No. I can't tell you, I'm sorry. Names are dangerous things."
"All right." Janeway stood up, and then paused. "Huh."
Malory stood as well, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Janeway frowned, her eyes twinkling. "I don't know whether to dismiss you or dismiss myself."
They both laughed, and Malory gave Janeway a tiny salute. "I'll get out of your hair, captain."
The next day, Janeway called a conference with her senior officers, which now included Admiral Malory. Janeway explained the entire situation, and asked, "Any questions?"
Kim cleared his throat.
"No, you don't have to be formal," Malory interrupted. "I'll respond to just Malory, or Admiral, or whatever, but I'm not the boss, so save your respect for the captain." She twirled her chair. "Poof. I'm completely normal."
They all chuckled, and the tension in the air started to fade.
A/N: Stay tuned!