Out of the Box
Author: Rocky
Act II
Janeway rose and went to the replicator. "Would you like a refill?" she called over her shoulder.
"No, thanks," Chakotay replied. "I've had my quota for the day."
"There's no such thing as a quota for coffee," she admonished, taking a sip of her own replenished mug. She wondered in passing if he knew just what number cup she was up to.
Chakotay smiled, and stretched to relieve the crick in his neck. "There is if you're out of replicator rations."
"Isn't that what friends are for?" she asked, smiling in return as she sat down next to him on the couch.
"Friendship has nothing to do with it," he corrected her. "If it's a choice between giving up the rations, or dealing with you when you're deprived of your caffeine fix, well, let's just say it's not a tough decision to make."
"I suppose I should be grateful you put up with me," she said.
"Definitely." Janeway shot him a questioning glance, not entirely sure he was joking.
She hurriedly picked up another PADD. "I think we're just about finished here. Just one more report and we can get back to the Bridge."
Chakotay nodded, and unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. "It's about time. We've been holed up in the Ready Room for nearly the entire shift."
"Getting tired of my company, Commander?" she asked innocently, taking another sip of coffee.
"Never, Captain," he said immediately, flashing her a grin.
"So what do we have left?"
His grin faded. "Security."
She looked up at the change in his voice. "Is there a problem?"
Chakotay exhaled slowly. "Frankly, there isn't one now, but if something isn't done soon, we may very well have a mutiny on our hands." At her expression, he quickly amended, "In a manner of speaking. What I mean is that the crew is starting to lose patience with these new regulations that Tuvok's instituted. The simplest procedures are now needlessly complicated because of the limited access to various systems."
He paused, as if expecting her to comment, but when she made no move to do so, he went on. "Then there are the simulated red alerts and battle drills. I don't think there's a single person who's had an uninterrupted sleeping period for the past week. We're passing through a relatively quiet region of space, but you wouldn't know it from all these disruptions. And now Tuvok wants to institute hand-to-hand combat training for all crewmembers, as well as have the entire ship undergo recertification in the use of sidearms."
Janeway was silent for a long moment, then sighed. "Let him go ahead and do this, Chakotay. I know the crew is grumbling, but...it certainly can't hurt and if it has the added plus of improving ship's defenses, all well and good. "
"Security on this vessel for the past six years hasn't exactly been lax-Starfleet protocols have been carried out to the letter."
"Protocols that were written in the Alpha Quadrant," she pointed out. "As we both know, things don't always look the same out here. Tuvok obviously feels we need to make up the difference."
Chakotay gave her a penetrating glance. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's acting out of a sense of guilt."
Janeway rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "One of the more common fallacies is to assume that Vulcans don't have emotions," she said. "They do-they just keep them very tightly under control most of the time."
"Well, this is one Vulcan whose control is slipping. Ever since the Cardassian incident, he's been acting like a man possessed."
"That's one interpretation," she said quietly.
"You're right. One could say this started even earlier-after we recovered the three of you from the Borg." Chakotay leaned forward, and caught her gaze in his own. "I think you agree with me, Kathryn. Whether he'll admit it or not, Tuvok feels he has personally slipped up-so he's trying to exonerate himself."
Janeway looked away, focused on the PADD in her hand. "Does it really matter what his motives are?" she countered. "We *have* often escaped disaster by a hair's breadth and we can't expect our luck to hold forever. These changes may very well be essential for our continued survival."
"But to go to such extremes-"
"Everyone has a burden of guilt to carry around, Chakotay." Janeway walked over to the viewport, looked out at the endless stars. "There's nothing that comes to *your* mind, late at night, when you're lying in bed unable to sleep?"
It was Chakotay's turn to hesitate. "I see your point." He sighed. "So you're signing off on this?"
She nodded and did exactly that. Placing it on her desk, she said, "Come on, Chakotay, it's time to go back to minding the store."
He got to his feet as well. "Can I ask you something before we leave, Captain?"
She nodded once more, warily. "Yes?"
"What's the *most* common fallacy about Vulcans?"
Janeway gave him a wintry smile. "That Vulcans are incapable of lying. To themselves or to others."
First Interlude
In the dark reaches of space, a small scoutship moved silently among the interstellar dust. It was running in 'gray mode'-no excessive energy expenditures. That, together with the special material coating its hull, rendered it nearly invisible to any inquisitive eyes. Of course, it could still be detected by other means-if anyone should think to look for it, or adjust their instruments accordingly.
The ship gave no cause for anyone to do so.
It glided along, to all appearances just another bit of space flotsam , except that the intelligence aboard was fully aware of everything that moved within the boundaries of its patrol area. As it was aware of the sleek Federation vessel which had recently entered its space.
Maintaining a distance of 10,000 kilometers, the scoutship shadowed the intruder. It made no aggressive moves; its job was simply to observe.
If anything further were required, there were others for those tasks.
