I dont own this story nor i am its writer. This story is from SIDoragon.
Season 1 - Episode 2: Basket Case (part 2)
March 2371
A quick stop at my room to freshen up, and I was soon making my way to the Security Complex on the same deck. I hadn't realized when I was given quarters on Deck Four that the security center was on the same level, but I wasn't going to complain about its serendipitous nature.
Growing up, watching Voyager on the television, I never really gave much thought to what was in the center of the ship and how complex everything must be. What you saw on screen never told the whole truth about what was on each ship, deck by deck, or how it was laid out. All one ever saw were corridors and the occasional window that let you know the room was against the hull. It was how I knew that the Mess Hall and the crew quarters were at the edge of the structure, but that still left a lot of unaccounted for space in such a massive vessel.
That was why I had been so dumbfounded to realize how absolutely stuffed Deck Four was.
Officer quarters reminded me of my first apartment in size, to be honest, and had everything you would need to be comfortable; living area, bedroom, bathroom. They were generally reserved for those of lieutenant rank or higher, as well as members of the senior staff. Living areas, like in my room, were located along the forward half of the outer hull, came with a replicator terminal, and was largely customizable, to a point. As for the standard décor, if you liked grey, you were going to be very comfortable in one of those rooms.
'As soon as I save up enough rations, I'm going to need to do some major redecorating in my room.'
At Forward was the ship's secondary Tactical Sensor Suite, which was basically a convenient way of saying "Here is a series of giant fucking computers." The room was roughly shaped like a triangle, gradually tapering to a point as it reached in from the outer hull. It impressed me to see it, if only in how different it looked from the rest of the ship. It kind of reminded me of a trek-version of a server farm; a floor to ceiling maze of black computer panels and blinking lights sealed up so tightly that not even air could get inside the casings, and not a scrap of grey fabric in sight. They were top of the line systems, able to scan and analyze a volume of more than forty-one hundred cubic light years in about six seconds.
Opposite this room were the Aft Torpedo Launch Bays. They were effectively one massive room, but there was a dividing wall, which could be sealed in an instant, that ran up the center that split it into the Starboard and Port rooms. Each room was basically a mirror of the other, equipped with a launch tube fed by an automated conveyor system that funneled over torpedoes from the ammunition racks at the other end of the room. Each launcher was governed by its own tactical station, but they didn't have to be manned for the launchers to be fired. During a tactical alert there might be two people here, four maximum, but they were there to make sure that something didn't jam at the wrong moment. The setup was surprisingly well thought out and efficient, showing off the automation that the show talked about, but never displayed in its episodes.
Working your way back from the torpedo bays, you had a pair of escape pods, more tiny sub-light ships than stellar life rafts, with a turbo-lift on the opposite side of the hall, followed by a slightly larger than normal officer's cabin. Then you had the Structural Integrity Field Generator Compartments. Located on either side the Deck, there was always a person posted to the rooms at all times, unlike the torpedo bays. Wise, considering how important it was to make sure our ship doesn't rip itself apart every time we do anything strenuous.
From there you had another larger than normal officer's cabin, followed by the Primary Hull Electro-Plasma System (EPS) Distribution Node Compartment. Essentially, it was one of the ships various transformer hubs. They were located here because the ship's shield emitters were there as well. They also regulated power output for this deck and the two above and below us. This room was also where the crew quarters begin for the forward deck.
That was basically the outer "ring" of the deck, separating it from the never seen interior was the corridor. Starting from the forward section of the deck and working your way back you have the port and starboard battery room used to provide emergency power. Followed by the Emergency Life Support centers for Decks Three and Four.
Another corridor crossed the ship here, splitting this area in thirds, as we get to the Holodeck-Support mechanical rooms, and the Transporter Rooms. These rooms are also mirrored, one in the port side and the other on the starboard, with Jefferies tube, which were just service crawlways, access splitting them apart.
Another corridor sectioned this area off, but directly across from the Transporter pads was the ship's Security Complex, which made sense. I could not believe how much more there was to it than was ever shown on television. The complex was actually well thought out and used the space well. Shaped like an isosceles trapezoid, the hallway had six doors that separated the complex into useful areas. From the starboard side, the first door led into a hallway that wrapped around to the back of the trapezoid where you found three different brigs. From the show, I had always assumed they had a single room since there was always just the brig and the one jailer. Turns out that each brig was a single cell room attached to a single warden area.
At the second and fourth doors down the Security/Transporter hallway you had armory rooms. These were where the ship stored all its handheld weaponry and other ordinance. There were fourteen storage lockers in each room for hand phasers and rifles, with room for additional ordinance.
The third door opened into a five level, auditorium style, briefing area with thirteen places to sit all facing the stage at the opposite end of the room. With the Security compliment the ship original had, that would be enough for the entirety Security crew, but after the addition of the Maquis crew and the subsequent personnel reshuffle, any briefing there would have to happen twice. Or everyone would have to stand.
The fifth room down the hallway was Security's shooting range. Technically it was the 'Security Testing and Training Room', but in function it was just an indoor shooting range. It was split into two rooms, the first was a gathering area with storage lockers for gear and six partitioned changing rooms along with one-size-fits-all training clothes in each space. This lead into a small holographic "range" that could be used for everything from testing accuracy skills to hand-to-hand combat. It wasn't a full holodeck, you couldn't build an entire city in a room, but it could provide you with a wide variety of enemies and training aids.
The last door opened into my honest to god office. Something I hadn't even considered before coming here is that each section chief on board had to have a private office of some kind to work on reports, but it turns out that they not only exist but are useful. The Chief of Security office doubled as an informal meeting room; it had a long grey couch with a stainless-steel table, as well as a pair of chairs placed across from his desk. At the back of the room was a small washroom, just enough to do your business, but it was more than appreciated. Just like the Mess Hall, it had that same hideous grey carpet and dark grey walls, and so I added another room to my remodel list.
This was where I was going to be meeting my Lieutenants.
I had only been in the room for two minutes, just enough time to sit down behind the black console that doubled as my desk and take a few sips of tea, when the door tone announced someone was waiting to come in. "Enter," I declared, while making a mental note to lock the door open when I was here and able to talk to people. It would send a better message and I didn't like the idea of being shut in this drab room all the time.
The first to enter was a tall black man, built like an NFL linebacker and nearly as tall as I was. Lt. Andrews had had a long Starfleet career, which made it all the more confusing why he was still only a Lieutenant. His file was full of observations from previous Security commanders and captains that painted a dismaying picture of ambivalence and laziness. Decent scoring on his weapons training and hand-to-hand combat, but apparently he wasn't good at doing everything else.
"Please take a seat, Lieutenant," I ordered the older man, offering the chairs or the sofa with a sweeping gesture. I wasn't very picky. "We're still waiting on the others."
Andrews looked like he was trying to suppress a scowl, and failed, but gave me a nod and glanced around the room. He started to move to the couch, stopped to glance at me and see if it was a wise choice, and, when he saw I wasn't going to say anything, proceeded to sit down. The man's uniform was clean, the image of perfection for regulations, but he still gave it the ol' Pickard maneuver and tugged it down.
About twenty seconds behind him the door chimed again. "Come in!" I called, picking up my cup and taking a sip of the hot beverage. The traces of spice were gone, but I didn't care for the aftertaste of the Talaxian's cooking
Two women filed in as the doors parted. Glancing at the two of them, I didn't need to look at their faces to pick out who was who.
Lt. Felecia Dalal was a trim and fit woman of Indian descent. Average height, and in her early thirties like myself, one of her previous commanders noted her down as the "Team Mother" type because of her tendencies to passively, some might say passive-aggressively, coerce the rest of the security forces into doing what she ordered. She would be the one who checked in with them at all hours of the day, made sure they were on task, and insured everyone got their jobs done while not trusting them to do it on their own. There were certainly always some crew that would need such oversight, but she did not discriminate.
There was an amusing story in her record from some time she spent on Deep Space Four. During the Cardassian War, there had been an attempt by the aliens to seize the outpost, and during the fighting the then Ensign ended up separated from her team and had to go hand to hand against a Cardassian that found her. When her commanding officer found them, expecting to have to rescue her, she was instead found standing over the face-down Cardassian with his arms behind his back in a wristlock. When the invader tried to stand, presumedly thinking that he was going to be taken to the brig, Dalal was noted as having smiled at her attacker and informed him, "Stop moving or I'll just break it more."
As it stood, there were recommendations in Dalal's file for promotion to Lieutenant Commander. Because of that I was currently eyeing her as my adjutant. If needed.
Provisional-Lt. Brenda Wood on the other hand, was a complete mystery. The blonde was currently wearing the Ops. uniform that was required for the job - at least until tomorrow - but you could tell she was uncomfortable in it. The way she subconsciously shifted as she stood, flexing against the fabric, trying to find a way to be comfortable in it, spoke of unfamiliarity and unease.
I sympathized. While the new me was comfortable with what I was wearing, she was showing the same reactions as I had in my old life when I needed to wear a suit and tie.
From what little was in her record, mostly put together by Tuvok using what he learned of everyone during his undercover assignment, Wood wouldn't be out of place in my division of Section 31. Raised on a border world, the twenty six year old woman had a lot of hate for the Cardassians who razed her home town to the ground during the war. She had an equal amount of hate for the Federation because the only reason the Cardassian had been able to do what they did was because the Federation flat out refused to provide the colony with the weapons to defend itself. They had, according to Tuvok's notes, claimed that their ships in the area would be able to respond to any attack, which they did. Two days after the fact.
A self-taught engineer, Wood moved from colony to colony and ship to ship during the war. In terms of general ability, she was nowhere near Torres skill, but had instead specialized in learning how to build things that go boom. After the war, she took exception to the Federation drawing a line on a map and telling all the humans on the other side of it to move. She had friends and family on that side of the map, what had been Federation space for a century prior to the conflict, and she saw it as just another example of the Federation screwing people over. So she turned her back on the Federation which had turned its back on her people, joined the Maquis, and made more things go boom.
I guess Chakotay thought someone who likes explosions and hates Federation rules would make a decent Security Officer? What the hell was he thinking? I wondered. There was no way Tuvok was going to utilize her correctly, now that he was back in Starfleet, but his loss was my gain.
"You asked to see us?" Dalal asked, standing at attention just inside the room. Wood stood upright next to her, obviously making an effort at trying to stand at attention, copying the older woman's motions for the most part.
I nodded slowly. "I did. Please, take a seat and we can get started."
Rather than join Andrews on the sofa, the two ladies took the pair of chairs across from me. As everyone settled in, I asked, "Would anyone like some tea, or water? I would offer you coffee but after seeing what that Talaxian was offering in the Mess I couldn't in good conscious endorse it."
Wood and Andrews declined with a shake of their heads, but Dalal accepted the offer of tea. Giving them time to get settled, I moved around the room to gather the cups and trays. While I was doing so, Andrews spoke up from the couch, "Sir, why did you ask us here?"
Dalal immediately snapped back, apparently scandalized by the man's lack of respect for a senior officer, "Andrews, zip it." The speed of her response indicated she'd been expecting his comment.
I just waved it off, however. "No, that's fine. This is an informal gathering at best. I just wanted to meet the people I would be working with. Provisional-Commander Chakotay essentially just handed me the duty roster a few hours ago and told me I'm in charge, so this is just a meet and greet."
Wood apparently didn't like the prefix I placed before the First Officer's rank, likely seeing it as the slight I meant it to be. "I trust Chakotay," She told me levelingly, meeting my eye but not glaring. "Not so sure about you yet."
"And that is why we are meeting," I smirked back at her, returning to the desk with the pot of tea and three small cups. I poured the herbal blend I'd had Replicated for this meeting into a cup for Dalal, the fragrant mix of citrus, mint, and pine wafting through the room, before I topped off my own cup and placed the pot down so anyone could grab it.
As I sat back down, leaning into the chair and sipping on the warm drink, I asked, "So, before we begin, what do you three know about me?"
My three Lieutenants glanced at one another, but didn't say anything. After Dalal glanced at Andrews, who glared back at her mulishly, and at Wood, who returned her gaze levelly, she spoke up. "Nothing, sir. We know you've taken over Security from Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, that you are a Commander who is going to report to him, and your name. That is all we officially have been informed of, sir," she informed me.
I had to applaud her diplomacy. She hadn't mentioned that I was reporting to someone of inferior rank, though she had brushed up against the topic if I wanted to address it. If it was something that upset me, it would've let her obliquely mention the issue, so she could not be accused of not knowing it, but didn't name it, in case it upset me.
She didn't say anything else, but from her polite but intent stare, Andrew's glare, and from how Wood seemed simultaneously interested in whatever I had to say and ready to run that they'd all heard things, scuttlebutt already running wild across the ship. I let out a reluctant sigh as I placed the cup back down and resolved myself to do something I was trained to never do.
Tell the truth.
"I am aware of how hard it is to keep a secret on a ship, especially a ship with this small of a crew. I'm sure that all three of you have heard, or thought you have heard, of my history. While you would never normally hear someone like me say so, this isn't a normal situation, and if we four are to work together, then it does us no good to keep this a secret." I met each of their eyes in turn. "I was a member of Section 31 of Starfleet, the black operations division of the Federation's military, normally known only to those Captain rank and above. When we get home, you will be required to keep this organization a secret as well, but I trust that you will all be able to do so. My organization was so named as, under article fourteen, section thirty-one of the original Starfleet charter, extraordinary measures are allowed in the face of extreme threats."
I let the statement stand for a moment, before going into more detail. "We were the Federations first, invisible line of defense. We went where others could not go, helped where others could not help, and we accomplish what others cannot accomplish. We spied. We conducted sabotage. We stole secrets. We conducted otherwise illegal analysis. The actual number of agents we had is classified but it is the largest collection of intelligence operatives in Starfleet by far."
"We also control several affiliated organizations that were not necessarily a part of Starfleet Intelligence in order to help Starfleet, and the Federation as a whole. It's very highly classified how we did it, where we did it, or when we did it. Very little of what we did was ever, or will ever be publicly acknowledged. What we did had to be kept secret because when we went into those organizations, and conducted intelligence work, we were violating their laws." Andrew's glare didn't abate in the slightest, having obviously either heard, or at least suspected, of what I was revealing or the man had a damn good poker face; Dalal's expression was accepting, even though it was obviously a mask to hide her true feelings; and Wood, oddly enough, seem to have the slightest Grin. Each of them would have to be dealt with differently, but I wasn't done.
"I speak of this in the past tense because I am no longer part of Section 31. When we get home, however long that takes, I likely will rejoin them again, but until that point I am a member of your crew, your commanding officer, and the one who will do his damnedest to make sure as many of us, Security and otherwise, get home safely, because just as I worked to defend the Federation, I will work to defend Voyager as well."
I regarded them all levelly, unashamed of my past. "Any questions?"
There was a long minute of silence that followed my little speech. The three Lieutenants stared at me, then at each other, before looking back at me. Dalal looked down and stared at her cup of tea, using the motion to buy herself time to process what I'd just said, while Wood reached for the pot on the desk and snagged a cup, more at ease than she'd been a moment ago.
Andrews on the other hand, if anything, seemed to push himself deeper into the sofa and scowl harder. If he knew who I was, actually knew about Section 31, he wouldn't still be so openly hostile. Either the man was an idiot, or this was a guy who didn't know what I was talking about, but knew he didn't like what he was hearing. I suspected it was the latter.
After taking a long drink of the tea, Wood looked me dead in the eyes and pronounced, "At least you aren't Tuvok."
Damn. That was cold.
I looked over at the former Maquis and asked, "If you are referring to me being Human, instead of Vulcan, you are absolutely right. If not, I might need you to expound on that." I had a good feeling, but if I was going forward with the 'honesty is the best policy' route, it would do to ask for some from them as well.
Taking a second to refill her cup, Wood returned to her seat and of all things smiled at me. "You were up front with who you are. What you are. Tuvok spent all those months with us pretending to be our friend. Lying to us every day. Acting like he agreed with our cause and was helping us fight back. Instead he turned us over to Starfleet. Or at least he would have if the Caretaker hadn't interrupted their plan."
She took a sip of her drink, paused, then asked calmly, "Did you have anything to do with Seska killing herself?"
Dalal and Andrews both stared at the young woman, but she just shrugged at them and continued on, "What? It is a legitimate question. He wakes up in Sickbay, and less than an hour later she's runnin' from security, settin' up warp core overloads, and eventually turnin' a phaser on herself."
With a sigh of resignation I schooled my face and answered, "If you know about that, then you should also know that Seska was a Cardassian plant. She infiltrated the Maquis and was working against you all. That Cardassian ship that chased your crew into the Badlands? That was supposed to be her people picking you up. Only reason you guys ended up getting away from them was Chakotay being stupid enough to fly into an area of space everyone else is smart enough to avoid, and Torres being brilliant enough to keep your ship in one piece once he did."
Glancing over at the other two Lieutenants, I then added, "Only reason I was onboard Voyager was because S31 wanted me to deliver the truth of Seska's allegiance to Tuvok once he was aboard. We had a lot of friends in Starfleet Intelligence, and no one in S31 agreed with the idea of handing over Human colonies to Cardassian control, so moving openly to inform Starfleet about the spy was in the Federation's interest. We actually pushed to keep the war going, since the only reason the Union sued for peace was that they were losing, but Federation policy is to take any chance at peace when presented. Even if will result in more conflict later. 'A life saved now is better than ten lost later' seems to be the watchphrase among Starfleet High Command."
I shrugged, taking another sip of my tea. "But there is a limit to what you can do when your organization doesn't officially exist."
There was another long lull in the conversation after that. Wood seemed to be okay with me being in command, given my expressed sympathy with the Maquis stated goal, but that still left Dalal with a look of thoughtful contemplation while Andrews remained in his seat scowling away.
Lt. Dalal sat her cup down and looked me over, sizing me up for something, and finally asked, "Sir, how much experience do you have with Starship Security?"
I smiled at the Indian woman. That was a brave question to ask, I thought.Calling me out right here and now to see if I'm actually a good leader? This was the time to do it though, in an unofficial meeting away from prying eyes. In response, I reached up and tapped the three golden pips on my uniform's collar. "I didn't get to my rank by sitting at a desk, or having it handed to me, if that is what you are asking. But there is something you need to know; the starships I'm used to serving on have a very different view of the purpose of Security. S31 ships, the few that exist, are not science vessels like this one, or cruise ships like the Galaxy-class. They are ships of war, low war, far outside of official supply lines, and our Security teams reflect that. There are going to be changes made to the way Security runs on this ship, because we don't have a Federation starport or ship just a week away to drop off people or pick up supplies."
Andrews sat up at that, asking, "Just what kind of changes?"
"Well," I began, glancing at each person in turn. "The first change is going to be our uniforms. Stop by the quartermaster before turning in tonight and pick up your replacements. Security Officers shouldn't be indistinguishable from Engineers or repair crews. If we're under attack the crew should know who they can trust to fight, and who will take cover and hope the enemy goes away." The uniforms I'd found weren't what I wanted to be giving them right now, but they would have to do until I manufactured combat hardsuits for our use. Gods, that's going to be an uphill battle, I thought, dreading the upcoming arguments with Tuvok and Janeway.
But that was an issue for another day. I reached under my desk and pulled out a, "Type-2 Phaser," laying it on top of the ebony surface. "A popular standby aboard Federation starships, starbases, space stations, and planetary facilities. Sixteen variable power settings, including stun and kill. This is admittedly a very useful and well designed tool, but that is what it is, a tool. It is not a sidearm and really shouldn't be used as one, let alone a primary weapon. At best, it is holdout weapon you should be hiding around your ankle, at worst it is a very fancy looking fire-starter when you are stranded planet-side while the rest of us fight our way to you to pull you out. We will continue to carry them, but I'm also going to be working on getting us all actual phaser pistols and rifles, and possibly other non-standard-issue weaponry. The Type-2 is a good tool, but it isn't suitable for every situation, and most of those situations are combat related."
Moving on, I added, "I am also making a list of things I've picked up from S31 over the years and seeing if I can recreate them and bring them online for our use. Better holographic systems, versatile tools, better communications, improved security systems. Something to keep in mind is that S31 was usually fielding gear two generations more advanced than Starfleet as a whole. We keep them a secret to keep them out of enemy hands, but the chances of us meeting a Romulan or Cardassian out here is slim to none, and we need the advantage."
"It's worked well for us so far," Andrews commented from the sofa, a look of ill-suppressed disgust on his face. "This is a Federation ship, not some spy vessel, so why should we be doing things your way?"
Glancing at the three, I could see a wide range of emotions playing out. Andrews was hating every moment of this, and me, and seemed to just be looking for a reason to not obey orders. Wood was almost the complete opposite and almost looking worried she wouldn't be getting new toys. Working with the Maquis, she was likely used to having to reply on scraps to get by, so having a chance to play with something no one else onboard has seen, something more advanced than even the Federation used, likely called to her like a siren. In the middle, as was quickly becoming a pattern, was Dalal, who seemed like she was conflicted, and could possibly either help me push my changes forward, or she could file a complaint with Tuvok. She was glad to see that I was acting like an actual leader, but was just as obviously unsure about not following strict Starfleet regulations.
"Lt. Andrews" I began, still holding a smile firmly on my face. Both of us knew it was fake but, ironically, proper Starfleet Protocol. "We will be doing these things because we need to adapt. We are in an unknown region of space, for the most part, and we will need to be prepared for anything. Just like back in the Alpha Quadrant during the early days of Starfleet, we will be encountering a wide range of different species with different capabilities. Hell, in our first three days here we found a hyper-advanced sporocystian lifeform that was ambivalent to our existence at best, the friendly Ocampa who were protected by said lifeform but not all that advanced, and then the Kazon who, if our brief interaction is indicative of their normal behavior, make most Klingon attitudes look tame by comparison. Two of those three could have killed us if they so wanted to. In fact, the Kazon tried and did destroy the Val Jean. That was in three days, the extent of our time here 'so far'. We are looking at a journey back home measured in years. How many species do you think we will find that want to kill us?"
There was a small pause as Andrews slid back into the couch, digesting what I just said and not looking happy about it, but Dalal leaned forward and asked, "What do you mean by 'for the most part?' No one in the Federation has been to the Delta Quadrant before so this whole region is unknown to us."
I stared at the woman for a few seconds, figuring out how to word it, before asking, "It has been awhile for me, but I'm pretty sure the xenobiology class covered the Borg in their lessons. Correct?"
At that comment, all three crewmember sat up straight, even Andrews, the laid back atmosphere of the meeting gone in an instant. In its place tension sang, with a strong undercurrent of fear. "You're not suggesting. . ." Dalal trailed off, skeptical but smart enough not to dismiss what I was saying out of hand.
I went on, just as calmly as I had before, as if the three lieutenants before me weren't hanging off my words, "A fun little fact that you won't have learned about in xenobiology, the Enterprise-D's encounter at Farpoint wasn't the first time we had contact with those bastards."
That tensioned thickened, until you could cut it with a knife. "It's true. A small number of drones were discovered on Earth, in Antarctica if I'm not mistaken, back in 2153. While they were being studied, their cybernetic systems, freed from the ice, regenerated. They infected the science team studying them, assimilating them and stealing their ship. They were destroyed, barely, by the original NX-01 Enterprise. Still, they managed to send out a subspace message to the Collective prior to their destruction. That subspace message was sent towards the Delta Quadrant, though we didn't know where exactly."
Wood was leaning forward in her chair, enraptured. "How do you know that?"
"Secret." I smirked back at her, a little honest humor leaking in. "If you want something else to worry about, ask me about the First Federation sometime."
Seeing Andrew's renewed glare, and at Dalal's disapproving look, I schooled my face, thinking of the Borg making the effort natural, and said, "But if you or anyone else on this ship takes issue with the things I'm doing, I just want you to remember that one day we will have to enter, and cross, Borg-space. And considering that the Borg don't have the entire Quadrant as their domain, that tells me there are other threats out there that are just as powerful as they are. I very much doubt that's the Kazon, who themselves are already a significant threat to us."
I sat back and laid the cards on the table. "In the end, we are alone. We need to prepare for the worst, train for war, and hope we never have to fight against what unknown forces lurk out there in uncharted space. I think we all know, however, that those hopes would be in vain."
With everyone taking me a little more seriously, and now having their undivided attention, I added, "Now, let's talk about something much more worrisome than the Borg. Tell me what you think about the junior-officers assigned to us."