Observations
By Rasbit
Disclaimer: If Voyager and Paramount had a fight, who do YOU think would win?
This is a companion piece to Rebecca's (award-winning!) story "Waiting". Thank you to her for letting me write it and correcting all the silly mistakes I made. Thank you also to Coral for letting me snitch the idea off her.
Working at Starfleet HQ can be soooo boring sometimes. If something exciting happens once a month, I consider myself lucky. When I joined Starfleet, I wanted to see the stars, travel on a starship, not file reports and replicate coffee for diplomats and Admirals.
So today's incident was a welcome break from the norm. Maybe not for the persons involved, but for everyone else.
It all started when Starla and I were filing (more) reports. Oh, such joy! Join Starfleet: See new worlds, explore new civilisations, file reports. Starla's an Andorian, which is interesting, and the variety of aliens at HQ is probably it's one saving grace!
Where was I? Oh, yeah, filing reports. So we were filing reports when all of a sudden there was a loud crash, and our heads shot up.
"What was that?" Starla asked softly.
"Dunno. Let's go find out," I suggested, shoving the PADD I was holding onto the desk gratefully, my mind already spinning wild theories about what was happening. Perhaps the Dominion had attacked again, or someone else. Perhaps someone was trying to commit suicide, or smuggle weapons into HQ, or... or something!
"We're supposed to be sorting these reports," Starla pointed out.
"So what? They can wait. Something important might be happening. Starla, what if it was a bomb, and we're the only two people left alive?"
"Then I would wonder why Ensign Peters was still in the room with us, sorting reports."
I turned to see Peters, another colleague of ours, reading reports and drinking coffee. "Don't mind me," she said with a wave of her mug.
"Race you there, Starla!" I called over my shoulder in challenge as I dashed out of the door. Starla evidently made her mind up as she raced down the corridor, easily catching up with me.
It now sounded as if someone was having a one-man shouting match.
"We can't be far from them," Starla commented.
We came to a cross section. "Left or right?" I asked.
"Left," Starla said with a wince as the sound hit her ears.
"They must be down this corridor," I grimaced as we turned the corner. I stared in shock. The long corridor was totally empty. "Wow! Whoever this is, I have to hand it to them. Their voice carries," I breathed in awe.
"I think I can make out individual words now," Starla said as we continued our jog down the corridor. I listened carefully; yes, I could too. It was definitely a woman's voice, loud and passionate. The rooms down this hall were all deserted; we didn't see anyone else or even hear anyone except the woman shouting.
We came to another turnoff. "Left," we chorused at the same time, sharing a small grin. At the far end of the left turnoff we could see a crowd gathering, a crowd composed mainly of Admirals and aides, although I spotted one or two diplomats too.
"-you can't ruin his life and your life! Love is too precious! Hold onto it, Captain! You don't understand! You have to grasp it, don't let anything come between-"
Under the woman's voice, I could hear various whisperings of shock, but most people were merely listening in dumbfounded silence at the tirade. The door was lying on the floor and another woman, probably an aide, had a black eye and bloodied nose. A couple of science personnel were tending to her gently.
Starla and I wormed our way to the front of the crowd so that we could see what on Earth was going on. Through the naked doorway we could see Admiral Janeway being yelled at by a clearly alien woman in civilian clothing.
"Hey," Starla whispered. "Isn't that Commander Paris?"
"The engineering professor?" I asked, throwing Starla a disbelieving look.
"Not anymore. I think she quit Starfleet after her husband, Commander Thomas Paris, was killed on a mission."
I turned back to the scene. Admiral Janeway, one of the most feared Admirals in Starfleet, renowned for her death glares and eyes of steel, actually looked afraid, although it was compassion that seemed to shine through in her eyes. Two burly security officers were holding Torres back, but she was still almost in striking range of the Admiral. A dark-skinned Vulcan was calling for security teams beta and gamma to report to Admiral Janeway's office. One woman? Heck! And she was still shouting passionately, fit to burst.
"Wasn't she Janeway's engineer or something at one point?" I asked absently.
"Yeah," a cadet standing next to me answered. "On Voyager. And the Vulcan was her security chief. Tuvok. Commander Tuvok."
"How come you know so much?" I asked with interest.
"I was there," the cadet shrugged.
"Oh," was all I could think of to say. "Nice horns."
"Thanks," she said, running a finger up them. "I'm half-Ktaran."
"Oh."
"Make way!" The crowd magically parted to let the new security teams through. I tried to find the cadet again, but she'd disappeared.
So, I turned my attention back to the drama unfolding in the Admiral's office instead. Commander Paris was now under control, and seemed somewhat subdued. Were those tears in her eyes?
"Don't take her to the brig," Janeway was saying softly.
"You're not gonna press charges?" the head of the beta security team asked disbelievingly.
Janeway turned so she was facing Commander Paris. "I don't think that's necessary, do you, Lieutenant Torres?" she asked gravely.
"No, Captain?" Commander Paris replied, equally seriously.
"I still think this is a bad idea-" the security officer began, but Commander Tuvok interrupted him.
"Lieutenant Jones, you will do as the Admiral requests. Escort Commander Paris out of the building, but no further."
"Yes sir!" Lt. Jones threw off smartly.
"Captain - Admiral - I'm sorry, really, I am. But, please think twice before turning his offer down..." B'Elanna implored.
Janeway took her hands in hers, and looked her straight in the eyes. "I'll think over what you've said, B'Elanna, but I can't promise anything more. You have a daughter to worry about. Let me handle my life."
Commander Paris smiled, obviously appeased at last. "Goodbye."
Then the security teams lead her out, and other officers started to shoo us away.
"Admiral?" Commander Tuvok began, "What was all that about?"
The last thing I saw before Starla physically dragged me away was the Admiral, collapsing into tears on Tuvok's shoulder.