The Captain and the Queen
"You don't remember, do you?" he asks. Tom's teasing smile puts Kathryn on her guard.
The two of them, with their glasses of champagne, are seated in an alcove that Kathryn plans to use for her home office. The spacious apartment around them comes with Kathryn's new rank. It's what Starfleet deems appropriate for an admiral. It's meant to be large enough to entertain dignitaries and impress lesser officers.
The fancy apartment doesn't fool Kathryn. She knows how far down she is in the Admiralty's pecking order.
Most of the members of her former Voyager crew are here to celebrate her move into a new home. Familiar voices share new experiences and time-old stories. They make the space feel warm. The apartment will feel cold and empty again once the party is over
Kathryn makes a quick scan of the supplies on the refreshment tables to make sure that everything is still well stocked. She notices that B'Elanna is standing nearby, talking with Chakotay. There is nothing unusual in that. However, B'Elanna is being careful not to look her way. That is unusual.
Just before Kathryn turns her attention back to Tom, she catches a quick exchange of glances between B'Elanna and Tom. Something is going on. What Tom once dared to call her 'Spidey sense' is tingling.
"Remember what?" she asks cautiously.
"It was after you shot Dr. Chaotica," Tom explains, referring to her role as Arachnia in his Captain Proton episode, The Bride of Chaotica. "Chaotica finished his swan dive. On the way out, you tripped on the train of your dress. You told me then that my dress making skills left a lot to be desired. I said that my original design was way slinkier and promised to show it to you someday - when it was safe, after we got back to the Alpha quadrant. So, here it is."
While Tom waits for her to open the program, Kathryn fingers the chip in her hand, searching for clues.
"Aren't you going to open my present?" Tom finally asks.
"You and B'Elanna already gave me a house-warming present," she counters.
"This is different. That was for your apartment. This one is for you." He pushes her desk terminal closer so she can insert the chip into the reader.
It begins harmlessly enough. The Adventures of Captain Proton flashes onto the screen. Captain Proton steps into view, stuns several incompetent sentries and begins the long climb up to the entrance to an impressive palace. On either side of the rocky steps, thick webs as strong as titanium cables secure the walls and block access from below. High above, other webs as fine as gossamer span the gaps between the turrets and cloak the palace's bleak walls in silver.
When Proton reaches the heavy palace doors, they swing open. Kathryn sees a figure emerge from the dark. She is imposing, regal. This is no 'one size fits all' Spider Queen. There is no doubt about it. This Arachnia is definitely Kathryn Janeway - a wilder, more glamorous Kathryn - but unquestionably her. As for the dress, Kathryn notes, there is no question that the model Tom showed her on the ship was the toned down version.
Kathryn's eyebrows rise. They demand an explanation - a good one too.
Tom shrugs, accepting the risk that he knows he is taking. "I figured that it was safe enough to show this to you, now that we're back in the Alpha quadrant." He adds mischievously, "If necessary, I can always wangle an invitation for a long visit with B'Elanna's Klingon relatives on Qo'noS."
"You do like to live dangerously."
"I always did." He gives her a sheepish look. It might be mistaken for an apology, but isn't really.
Kathryn can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. Tom may like excitement in his life. He doesn't pull reckless stunts just for effect, not even ones as harmlessly silly as this one.
"Tom, truthfully, why did you give me this chip?"
Tom studies the stem of the champagne glass in his hand. "Seriously?" he asks.
"Yes, seriously."
He takes a deep breath and turns to face her. "Admiral, you spent seven years being the Captain of Voyager, sacrificing your personal life for the sake of the crew. You did what no one else in Starfleet has ever had to do. You have nothing left to prove, to anyone. I don't want you spending the next seven years putting yourself second to Admiral Janeway. I thought that this program would be a good way to remind you that life should be more than work, and that you look damn sexy in a dress."
Kathryn is torn between issuing a put-down to an insubordinate officer and laughing at the outrageousness of an old friend. She settles for a little of both. "Mr. Paris, you are the only person I know who can be completely ridiculous, and at the same time, so truly wise."
Tom smiles, a glint in his eye. "Does that mean that you'll join me at a holosuite for an episode of Captain Proton?"
"It means, quit while you're ahead."
Kathryn examines the scene on the screen. Tom always put great thought into his holoprograms. She knows that this one holds very personal meaning for him. If Sandrine's represents his history, this one is … his idealism? His inspiration? Tom's cavalier Captain Proton is a force to be reckoned with - dedicated to his mission.
Kathryn shifts her attention to Arachnia. She is a strong, vital creature. Kathryn can see the care that Tom took with the character, even down to the design of her costume. This version is in color. Although Tom intended to transfer the program to a palette of black and white, the fabric in the dress is woven in shimmering shades that catch the light in complex patterns.
An admiral's uniform is hopelessly dull in comparison. Arachnia's webbed collar would be more than a match for desk-bound suits with admirals' pips on their collars.
"I have a better idea," she decides.
Tom's interest perks up, "Oh?"
"I found a craft market not far from here. One of the weavers makes beautiful tapestries. If I show her samples of the finer webs and the material in Arachnia's dress, I'm sure she can make a lovely wall hanging for me."
"Where will you put it?" Tom checks out the walls in her living area to find a suitable spot for that kind of hanging.
"I'm not going to hang it in my apartment." Kathryn interrupts his search before he gets too carried away and starts rearranging her furniture. "My office at the Admiralty is a much better place for it."
"Really? Why there, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Not at all. That's where it will do the most good. It's where I'm most likely to forget that my life is supposed to have room for fun too."
Kathryn raises her glass to toast the moment. She waits until Tom takes a sip of his own and is turned slightly away from her. Then she delivers a line in payback for the many times she choked in laughter while reading his reports.
"It will also remind me, and anyone else who can read its message, that Alynna Nechayev is no longer the only queen in Starfleet."
She takes a sip from her own glass while Tom's spray of champagne sails harmlessly across the desk.