Season 1 - Episode 7: Signal Fire (part 2)
May 28, 2371 (2 Months, 13 Days in the Delta Quadrant)

==/\==

"I'm flattered that you think I could help you," Torres lazily smiled up at me, "but I'm more of a warp core specialist. For what you're describing, you'd need someone who knows communication systems like the back of their hand."

The two of us were making our way along deck eight, heading toward the cargo bay and its aquaponics setup. I was going there because I finally had something I could discuss with Ensign Wildman, and had run into B'Elanna heading in the same direction.

Not one to let good fortune pass me by, I told the Chief Engineer about my idea for a subspace communications beacon powerful enough to cross the likely distances involved with contacting one of the three waylaid Federation ships in the Delta Quadrant. I knew for sure about Equinox, though I couldn't admit it, but I wasn't ready to write off the other two just yet, and so a general purpose beacon seemed like the best idea.

It wouldn't be possible to open two-way communication with just our single device, anything that would do so requiring a paired device on the Equinox, but it would be enough to give a Starfleet vessel, with the proper decryption codes, our general location and heading, along with general territory locations to avoid. If we couldn't find our way to them, we could leave breadcrumbs to help them find us.

Torres loved the idea, and looked over the padd I was carrying that held the schematics, but it became very clear, very quickly that this was a task outside her wheelhouse.

I shrugged at her reply, offering an easy smirk in reply, "Maybe I just want to spend more time with you? I had a lot of fun on our previous collaborations, and was hoping you would be interested in another."

"So did I," she acknowledged, casting another glance my way, "but in this case I wouldn't really know where to start. I know how to repair subspace relays, and modify them, but the kind of thing you want to build will need a specialist who can construct transmitters in their sleep. If you have something else though, I'd make time."

Stopping for a moment, Torres waited for me to turn and face her, before looked me in the eyes seriously and adding, "What I want to know is how you were able to come up with it? A device like what you're describing could revolutionize communication systems back in the Alpha Quadrant, and would likely cause the Academy to furiously update their textbooks."

I ignored the feeling of cold water running down my spine, reminding myself that I needed to come up with a reason why I could do this that would stand up to scrutiny sooner rather than later, and shrugged off her question. "You didn't think I got through the Academy because of my looks, did you?"

"I'm sure it didn't hurt." Torres made a show of slowly looking me up and down, checking me out as she answered and grinning all the while. She was distracted from her question, but I needed a little more.

"Well, Old Sneezy did give me some looks," I forced a frown, pretending to think about it.

That set B'Elanna off laughing with a quick snort, "Oh, no! You had my Survival Training instructor, Commander Zakarian? How someone who was allergic to nearly everything managed to make it as our instructor I'll never know."

"Easy," I replied, smiling even as I gave a serious answer, "if you're allergic to everything, you need to be hyper aware of everything around you. Everything you touch, taste, or smell, could be a potential hazard."

She offered an acknowling wave of her hand, starting to walk again while admitting, "While that is true, it made teaching us anything incredibly difficult. And she'd always get so mad when we asked her to repeat herself."

As we moved along, I allowed a few moments to pass before I returned us to our original topic. "Okay, I'll keep you in mind for one of my other projects. So, who would you suggest I talk to about this? Ideally I would like to have one built and ready to use in the next few days. The sooner we can contact them, the more likely they are to be in range."

Glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, Torres was quiet for a few moments. When she finally spoke, it was to explain, "I don't think there is any one person on board that would be able to do what you need. But you should be able to get the needed help from several others. I know Harry's young but he does have some background in subspace mechanics-"

"Right," I nodded along, "he ran the Academy newspaper during the Cardassian War. Tapped into the subspace communications to get news and put it on the net before the major news sources even got a hold of it."

She turned her head, and looked up at me consideringly, not breaking stride. "That's right. I knew you went through the Academy, but did you go at the same time as us?"

"Not really," I shrugged it off, "I think I was getting out just as you both were passing the halfway point."

Nothing else was said for a few moments, but finally Torres spoke up, "Anyway, someone else you could try is Suder. He shows a knack for figuring out complex things."

I didn't stop dead in my tracks, but it was a close thing and did break my stride for a moment. 'Fuck, I forgot about Suder. I need to do something to help him before he breaks and kills someone.'

The poor man was a social pariah on this ship, and his life hadn't been much better before being stuck here. Being a Betazoid who couldn't sense emotion was one problem, being a Betazoid who couldn't sense their own emotions was another thing entirely. Hell, the reason he joined the Maquis was so he could kill Cardassians and feel something. I had some time until he finally snapped, but I was going to have to move him up to the top of my list of things to head off before they became a problem for the crew.

"Ensign Renlay Sharr might be a good option." Torres stated, unaware of my thoughts.

Shaking myself free of those mental strings, I asked, "Sharr? Isn't she the alternate conn officer?" That was literally all I knew about her, having had no dealings with her in either my position as Chief of Security, nor were there any flags on her S31 file. Her standard file was similarly bland and unremarkable, a background character in real life as well as the show.

Nodding along, the Engineer retorted, "Don't let her red uniform fool you, she's got an interest in subspace communication networks. Her father was in charge of a relay maintenance station, and she grew up with the things. There might be a few pitfalls that she can help you avoid."

I filed the name away, while mentally comparing what I just heard about the young woman with her service record. "There's no mention of subspace engineering classes in her Academy records, and she's never put in any requests to work on those systems."

Torres raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Did you memorize everyone's service records?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause where my friend was obviously hoping I would elaborate, and when I didn't she huffed, not saying anything more.

As we reached the cargo bay, we paused at the access panel. Due to the importance of the contents within, namely the crews fresh food source, I had adjusted the doors to only open when you entered your identification code. It wasn't a locked room, per say, the door settings were simply regulated as a security precaution so they didn't just open when people walked up to it like was normal. I'd changed the settings on other key areas, such as the entrance to the Brig, and the armory, though the last was only when the ship wasn't on any kind of alert.

I got a few comments about it, and a personal demand from Janeway to explain myself, but it was all part of the powers of my current position, so they'd stayed. Lacking internal cameras, the security check was intended to just keep a record of who came and went to protect the food, as well as keeping any alien visitors we had from tampering with them without crew oversight. As I walked into the cargo bay now, I was stopped by the sight that lay before me.

The cargo bay was a veritable Garden of Eden.

All along the bulkheads were shelves, vertical support struts and tubes that a few weeks ago had been silver and grey, and today they were all covered in a multitude of various shades of green, obscuring the walls entirely. Leaves of all sizes and shapes grew up, around, hung over or otherwise obscured what lay behind or beneath them. Lining the walls higher up all around the room, extending up onto the second floor, were four meters tall by three meter deep, silver edged, tanks. Through its clear walls you could see thousands of gallons of water circulating like a steadily flowing river, in from the front right corner, along the back walls, and out through valves in the front left corner. Rocks, sand and various aquatic plants dotted the track to provide various environments for the inhabitants.

Said inhabitants were some of the most beautiful fish I had ever seen. There were fish shaped like knives, so black that light seemed to vanish around them, that darted around the lowest levels of the tank and clung to the sandy areas. Among them where mollusca and nautilus by the hundreds. Arrowhead cephalopods darted around the middle regions, tiny by themselves but in schools of more than a hundred each. They prefered to mingle in thicker grasses near the back. Closer to the front of the glass, and the light of the room, were brilliantly green colored fish that reminded me of sharks, but with scales like the average koi.

The tank, singular because it was all one giant aquarium, seemed separated into an assortment of regions based on the size of the creatures within. As you started at one end of the room, the fish were smaller and more numerous, but as you walked along its length you could see all the creatures within getting steadily larger and larger as the amount of 'coverage' grew to be less and less. Pipes entered and exited the tank in various locations up and down its length, some providing nutrients or filtering out waste, but most leading down the bulkheads from where the water circulated to feed the roots of the plants covering the lower half of the bay. All along the top of the tank, was a semi protective sheet that allowed the people in charge of watching over all this the ability to reach in and manipulate the environment or deal with the animals, with proper access points with ladders if they needed to dive into it completely.

Or in the case of the ten crewmen whom were off duty, and sitting around a few work tables, the ability to just listen to the water and watch life in action.

Even I had to admit, it was relaxing. Like stepping off the ship for a moment and stepping into a park mixed with an aquarium. That sound of running water, that constant movement of the fish, sucked you into it.

Holodecks were nice, but knowing that something was fake tended to ruin the illusion. This was a hundred percent real and very inviting.

Torres gave me a parting wave as she walked over to a tank, running her Tool over an access port along the back, so I scanned the room for the person I was looking for.

Standing near the middle of the room, reading over something on her own omni-tool display, was Ensign Wildman.

The woman who was nominally in charge of the Science Division wasn't alone, she had a couple of blue shirts standing near her and moving where she directed them. This wasn't that surprising. Since the aquaponics had been constructed, it had ostensibly been under the direction and care of Kes, however the Science Division had been the primary force behind the designing and upgrading of the room to accommodate its new role and were required to watch over the creatures that it held. Kes was still in charge of plantlife, the last I knew, but the fish? The fish belonged to Wildman.

What drew her to my attention, today's reason of asking for help with the communications array only part of it, was a small series of events that had snowballed to the point of me feeling the need to address it. The problem was, I wasn't exactly sure how to begin, the way I would've approached her at odds with the quiet, discrete method that Shepard preferred outside of a combat zone. There was the gentle and deniable approach, the friendly and concerned approach, the Tuvok approach of being about as blunt as a sledgehammer, and so many more, but I couldn't see a particular one that would work.

So, the band-aid approach it was. Soft to start, then with a quick and direct question, but done in a way that was obviously to help.

As I stepped over to her, the other blue shirts nodded and smiled at me, before begging off as they saw I here to talk to their boss. The short blonde woman smiled warmly at me, like seeing a friend for the first time in weeks, despite the fact that we'd never actually talked privately.

Wait, has it been three weeks since I last saw her? I wondered. I suppose it had, which was a large part of why I was looking for a reason to talk to her.

"Mrs. Wildman," I greeted in return, formal but friendly.

She nodded her head, smiling to herself about something, "Mr. Shepard, it has been awhile. What can I do for you?"

I looked around the room, the sum of months of work, and grinned up at the woman, standing on a stool to look over the top rack of plants. "It has been a while. Looks like you have been keeping yourself busy. Is this where you have been spending all your time?"

"I suppose so," she replied, glancing back down at her screen, and over at the plants. "Have to make sure that everything here is working right. Don't want the crew to get upset. Besides, it is fairly pleasant here."

Nodding along, I agreed, "That it is. Walking in, I started to wonder if maybe I should bring a picnic basket and just hang out."

Wildman smirked knowingly, "Some people already have. This room is becoming more popular all the time."

"Well, let me know if you need some of my boys and girls to come down here to drive away some squatters." I joked, walking alongside her as she stepped down and ambled over to a section of wall that had a plant with large, broad green leaves hanging off it, each one the length of my leg.

"I'll let you know if that becomes necessary." She took another reading, pressed a few buttons, and moved on to the next section of wall with me beside her. "But I know you don't just walk up to people and talk about nothing. What brought you to me today?"

Was I that obvious? I wondered, though I supposed she was right. I took a breath. "It's been awhile since I saw you. I don't think you've been in one of the weekly briefings since the assault on the Vidiian base."

Wildman paused, "I suppose you're right. It has been busy for us. By the way, I meant to thank you and Ms. Torres for the samples of technology you provided us. It's given a few of us some things to focus on other than maps once we finished working with Engineering to build all of this."

I nodded absently. Most of the tech that we'd liberated from the Vidiian ship had been turned over to Science Division to figure out, the more straightforward pieces went to Engineering, but the really important parts, the medical sensors, were handed over to the Doctor. I'd spent a few hours working with the EMH to add Vidiian medical procedures and equipment usage into his matrix, which had made the holographic doctor happy, or as happy as he could be this early into the voyage. Torres and her people were working on ways to copy the Vidiian sensor technology, but she'd said she'd had to pass her division's questions about the medical means and methods that race of organ thieves had developed to Science.

"So, you just haven't shown up to the briefings because you are busy?" I asked incredulously, sneaking up on the topic. There was no way the Science division had so much work to do that she couldn't spend an hour a week in a meeting. If so, I might've begged off once or twice.

Putting that aside for the moment, I pressed, "You know we passed a living nebula the other day. As a xenobiologist, I would have thought you would have been all over that. I don't recall ever seeing anything like that before."

Wildman glanced over to me, before looked down and away, hiding her expression completely, "I got the sensor information. It has been a fascinating read."

And there it was, the reason I wanted to talk to her. From the way she was acting though, she seemed cagey, almost scared. Did something happen off-screen on the show, something that the audience had never seen, to make things the way they were, to keep the Science officer out of almost every important meeting after the first few?

"Wildman," I began, paused, and started again more softly, gently taking hold of the metaphorical band-aid. "Samantha, you are aware that you are the Chief Science Officer, right?"

"I'm aware." she replied, her voice even, still not looking at me.

"Then why are you sitting back and allowing Janeway to run over you?" I asked, ripping off the social plaster with a quick and unambiguous query. She seemed quiet, but not meek, but was going along with what was a blatantly obvious usurpation of her station, given that for the rest of the show Janeway would field every Science related issue herself, never going to the Science Officer for a second opinion. "You should be in there at every meeting, asserting your control over your department."

Wildman looked up at me finally, expression blank. "She is the Captain."

"Yes, the Captain," I agreed, stressing the tile. "She is wearing red, not blue. It isn't her place to run your department, it's yours."

She was quiet for a long time, and I wondered what her response would be. From her stressing of rank, had Janeway ordered her not to come? Had the calls to report to the meeting room just never included her? Whatever I was expecting her to say, it wasn't the soft but strong statement of, "I prefer it."

"What?" I took an involuntary step back, flabbergasted at what I heard. She couldn't be serious, but if she was, it demanded the question of, "Why?"

Sighing hard, like she was stepping into a confessional to declare her sins, Wildman answered, eyes downcast, "Because I never wanted it. I wanted to study alien life, the kind that doesn't talk back. My dream has never been to lead a science department, especially not this early into my career. All I ever wanted was to stay by my husband, raise a child or two, and enjoy my work. Maybe find a new mammal and name it after him, if it was cute enough. This, this position? It's too much responsibility, I'm not ready for it, and I don't want it. I don't think I ever will."

"So," I trailed off, hoping to prompt her.

She didn't disappoint. "So, I allowed Janeway to take over. She was a Chief Science Officer on her last assignment before she got shifted over to Command. She was closer to heading this department than I was, if you look at the charts. She knows how to get the most out of us."

Glancing at the single golden dot that indicated Wildman's Ensign rank, just like that, a lot of the questions on the show fell into place. Why was Voyager running a show of mostly red and yellow shirts? Why was there no Spock or Dax role to fill on the series? Because the one that should've been there had died and the remaining blue-shirts didn't want the job, happy to work out of sight and out of mind. So, Janeway was wearing two hats all the damn time, doing all the science because she wanted to, and because no one was there to over-rule her. She did this, all the while forgetting that there were regulations against that very thing, for very, very good reasons. Back in the Alpha Quadrant, she could face all kinds of sanctions for warping the chain of command like this, let alone what she'd done with Tuvok. Here, she could do whatever the hell she damned well pleased.

All while claiming to be following Starfleet regulations to the best of her ability.

I nodded along, understanding her reasons, but I had to add, "You realize that she's using you, right?"

"Yes," she smiled at me, knowingly, like it was silly of me for even to ask, but understandable that I would anyways. "But this is helping her cope. She needs the safety of the familiar more than I need to add pips on my collar."

Part of me wanted to rage on her behalf. If someone isn't suited to a position, fine take over for them until you can put someone else in charge. This ship, cut off and lost in space as it was, needed everyone doing everything they could to help each other survive. It's what I would do.

That wasn't Wildman, though. There hadn't been any problems, any failings in the science division, to the point that it was only her help with this new comm array that I had an excuse to talk to her. No, she was perfectly capable of doing what needed to be done. She had the brains and the creativity to succeed here, one only had to look around, but had no ego, no need to be seen by the rest of the crew. She was perfectly happy to fade into the background, supporting everyone else from behind rather than being a brother in arms.

I could understand that, to some extent. As a Section 31 agent, I didn't exactly advertise my presence, nor did I desire fame and accolades, helping others stay safe was enough. It was the other part of me, the older, original part of me that wanted to stand up and say that this was wrong, but in doing so, I wouldn't be helping her, only myself. While Wildman hadn't asked for this arrangement, as she would've said so if she had, it was likely what she wanted, and I'd be taking that away from her if I said something, spending social capital to achieve nothing more than forcing someone into a position she didn't desire, nor was she ready for. I did know one thing though.

This was Janeway screwing another crewman over, to make herself look more important.

She hadn't asked Wildman what she wanted, or the woman would've said so, to excuse the situation. What little I knew about her, and had seen of her character, made that abundantly clear. On the other hand, Wildman knew all this and didn't care. That part of me who wanted to take action for this insult to their ability died where it stood at seeing the woman happily tending to the fish and leading her people around the room. If she was happy with the current circumstances, who was I to interfere?

"Very well," I stated, hesitantly, but firmly. I took a quick inhale, squaring my shoulders as I accepted the new situation, and said, "If you ever feel you are ready to take back what should be yours, let me know. I'll fight for you."

Samantha smiled warmly as a tension I hadn't noticed left her, nodding a little as she did so. "Thank you for your support, but I don't believe it will be needed."

With that, I turned and walked away. It was half an hour later before I realized I never asked her about the subspace broadcaster.

==/\==

Harry stood at his console, his entire being focused on the task ahead of him. "Final preparations are complete. Diagnostics check out. Ready on your order, Captain."

I was standing next to Tuvok, watching as the result of three days of frantic work was nearing completion. On the other side of the bridge Ensign Sharr had a beaming smile, obviously excited. Chakotay and Janeway stood importantly in the center of the room, looking around at all of us.

Kim, Sharr and I were very proud of what we had managed to cobble together. Between my bringing the math, Kim bringing the engineering, and Sharr providing practical experience, we managed to design and build an omnidirectional subspace interplexing beacon. It wouldn't have the range I had hoped for, we would need some specialty equipment built from the ground up for that, but tripling our communications range was nothing to sniff at either. It'd extend into Krowtonan space, but not completely, and I hoped it would be in range of the Equinox. If it wasn't, when Voyager dipped back into Kazon territory, they'd definitely be heard by them, assuming nothing else went wrong.

It didn't mean we could open two-way talks with anyone, as that would require them to have similar beacons, but we could certainly send out Federation messages to Federation ships.

Which was exactly what we were preparing to do.

"Mr. Kim," Janeway smiled over at the young man, paused to look around the bridge, and then ordered, "send the signal."

"Yes ma'am," the Ops officer smiled back, and started tapping his console. A few moments later, he announced, "Message successfully sent."

There was a polite smattering of applause, myself among them, as our signal fire was lit, showing any who could see it where they could find a friend, the most precious commodity far from home. Privately, I was hoping beyond all hope that Equinox was within range to hear it. The other two ships we suspected were out there might be able to hear it as well, but I wasn't as hopeful in their case, completely without knowledge of their paths. Without a guide like we had, it was unfortunately possible that they had ended up wandering into Vidiian space and been turned into spare parts.

"With this," Janeway began, drawing the attention of the crew, "I hope we can reach out to some friendly faces, and maybe some new friends. I know I speak for the crew when I say thank you to Mr. Kim, Ms. Sharr, and Mr. Shepard."

The applause started again, and after allowing it to run its course, the Captain declared, "Now, everyone back to work."

There was a scattering of chuckling, at that, but the order was followed and Janeway walked off the bridge and into her ready room.

I was heading towards the turbolift when Tuvok followed me inside, the door closing and giving us a moment to talk. After I ordered it to move to deck four, he turned and stated, "Mr. Shepard, your insight into such a field as communications was most surprising."

"Should it have been?" I asked, turning to look at the Vulcan. "You know my past. You've done work for my old employer's sister organization. You know how important managing the flow of information can be. Both in controlling it, and in conveying it, effectively."

The officer lifted his eyebrow, "Are you saying that your former colleagues already utilize this technology?"

"No." I answered, truthfully. "I'm just saying that communication is important, and I used what I had learned from my time in the field. In a great deal of fields, to be specific, usually someone else's. There's a lot out there, Lieutenant Tuvok, I just have a talent for connecting the dots. It's why I was recruited, after all."

The doors opened, I stepped out, and I could practically feel the Vulcan's inquisitive stare on the back of my head. Smiling to myself, I calmly strode back to the Security Complex, my next project already on my mind.