Season 1 - Episode 3: A Summoning of Thunder (part 2)
March 2371 (15 days in the Delta Quadrant)

"Computer," I called out, walking up to the panel adjacent to the door. "activate program Shepard-Alpha-One."

Regardless of whatever complaints I may have had about the Star Trek universe, and its various complications and shenanigans that make even the most impossible soap opera look like a history documentary, I would never not love the holodeck.

When I had a day to explore the ship and interact with the crew, familiarizing myself with the layout of important areas of the ship, I had made sure to include the holodeck in my rounds. How could I not? Holodecks simulated life in its lushest form. You could simply recreate a specific place, set up combat training, or even enter a narrative story far more immersive than the best role-playing video game. People us these fantastic machines did not merely pretend they were in another place, they simply were.

It was so iconic in fact that I couldn't really recall any other fictional setting that had such advanced holographic technology in it. The X-Men's Danger Room might be the closest to it in purpose and scale, but the idea of a holodeck was just so definitely Star Trek in nature that no other form of fiction really even tried to approach it. The few that come closest usually substituted having anything be real for having everything be virtual, like in The Matrix or Sword Art Online.

As I walked into Voyager's holodeck, my face broke into a wide smile. The dark grey floor was crisscrossed with a yellow grid, while a latticework of metal covered the walls and high ceiling in a network of omnidirectional holographic diodes, enabling holographic projects and holograms. It was such a simple design, but I much preferred it to the bare black shell with yellow grids that had been required in the previous generations of the holodeck. It was also easier to maintain, memories of the hours spent having to keep an older one in the academy running lingering in the back of my mind.

The science behind the holodeck was simply ridiculous, if I was being honest. A complex amalgamation of transporter technology and replicators that could create the illusion of actual substance and matter by manipulating photons within a force field. Who in their right-minds would ever have considered that combination for something as innocuous as full-immersion video games?

My credits would be on the porn industry. Even in my old life they were pushing the advancement of entertainment technology. Why did 56kbs dial-up phone lines get replaced with terabyte per second fiber optic? It certainly wasn't the stock market. I had even seen the beginnings of realistic virtual reality programs being pushed by them, which was soon followed by large computer companies for the purpose of video games and designer software.

It was a dirty, little, and often ignored secret that sex was one of the primal base desires that ran the world.

Or at least it did in my old life. I wasn't so sure about my new one, Shepard having been more focused on combat than leisure, but I could confirm that holodecks being rented out for private personal use, then auto-cleaned, was a thing on Earth. Have a fantasy you wished to explore? Rent a holodeck and find out if it is for you. It wasn't something that is allowed on Starfleet property, with a lot of locks on what was allowed to run, but in the private sector it was a major industry. Given Janeway's preferred holo-novel, I wondered if she'd used a command override. With Paris' go-to being a French bar and whorehouse, I figured he either had hacked the system, or, more likely, it just refused to let you upstairs

Regardless, the complete immersion and prevalence of the technology was likely part of the reason why Holo-addiction was so prevalent and easy to diagnose, what with fantasy being better than reality for some people.

The program currently running wasn't very complex, and barely used the room to its full potential, but it was what I had been able to build at the moment. What they don't tell you in the show or books was that creating holodeck material was complex and required a hell of a lot of programming skills. If you were just recreating something that has already been done, it is easy enough to reskin and change some details to skip a majority of the work.

For example, Mr. Paris's Chez Snadrine simulation, the aforementioned bar, which the pilot had been testing out when I'd walked by previously, reused a lot of the same character subroutines found in various other holo-programs. More than that, when I'd asked him about it, and convinced him it was to learn and not to get him in trouble, he'd revealed that the bar itself came from a holo-tour of tourist locations across Marseille and been copied wholesale, with minimal tweaking. It was likely going to take him another week to get the virtual billiards room exactly right, but it was an easy enough program to build when you didn't try to do so from scratch.

Compared with the Emergency Medical Program that required a decade of work and dozens of technicians to make work properly, and in the process managed to accidentally create an artificial intelligence, making my digital tinkering lab was much more doable. Just not 'two weeks from scratch' doable.

Having only discovered the wonders that were Holodeck Copy & Paste functions the previous day would be the reason why my program was, at present, little more than a pair of L-shaped metal workbenches. Each was three meters to a side, with three drawers in the base that were full of all the little toys the best mechanics of the twenty-four century could ask for, placed in the center of the room to form an open square. Equal distance between the two benches, was a ring "drawn" on the floor to represent a presentation area.

It wasn't flashy, but then again it didn't need to be. I just needed a place to work on my prototypes, and then, once constructed, an area I could make any minor adjustments that might be needed without having to scrap the thing, all without five different people jogging my elbows. I wasn't about to try to jump into the spawning season for salmon that was Engineering, everyone constantly rushing about with fragile components, inches away from slamming into each other.

Sometimes, those people worried me.

Following on my heels as I walked to the first bench, Torres spoke up from behind me dryly, "Wow, Shepard. You take me to the nicest places."

The smile in her voice and the humor in her eyes took the heat out of the words, so I simply replied, "Computer, please add a palm tree half-meter away from Torres."

As the new addition materialized next to the woman, she huffed, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, and I turned back to what I was doing at the workbench. Despite what she'd said at the briefing yesterday, Torres hadn't been able to come with me right then, needing to block out some time to come join me here the day after, which had allowed me to make some final adjustments overnight.

I had finally gotten to bed around twenty-three hundred last night, and then woke up an hour later when I felt the second 'charge' I'd gotten since arriving here slot itself into my reserve, bringing me back up to seven. From that, I learned two things: the first thing I learned was that the charge is earned at midnight Tuesday morning, for whatever reason. The second thing I learned was that the earning of a charge was not only noticeable enough to wake me up, but also was also more than a little painful. I could feel the pressure slot in behind my eyes for fifteen minutes before it gradually faded away, as if nothing had ever happened. I hoped the pain would lessen as I got used to it, or at least hold steady. If it got worse, then some points might need to be spent on tech to figure out what was going on to me, and to lessen the side effects.

"So, Shepard," Torres began, walking up to the workbench, turning around, crossing her arms and leaning back against it as she spoke, her head tilted appraisingly towards me, "what was it that you wanted to show me?"

I nodded, mostly to myself, as I steeled myself reveal the first bit of tech to her. The decision to do this, to show the technology off and share it with the crew, was not one I could make lightly. I'd wanted to before I'd downloaded the first schematic from whatever God, Akashic Record, or Eldritch horror this stuff came from, but I knew that once I handed a single piece of tech over, I was invalidating large chunks of my foreknowledge.

Some things would be the same. The Borg would still have the same territory, planet Hell would still be toxic trap, and that Okampa station would still try to lead us to the Caretakers mate and get us killed. Other things, things that depended on the Voyager being at just the right place and just the right time, we'd miss those entirely.

If I said nothing, if I did my best to keep my changes small, like getting an engineer to look over the Talaxian's kitchen, it wouldn't change that much. He'd not almost kill the ship with cheese, but the knock-on effects would be minimal.

This, this would be something else entirely. I would be stepping off into the unknown, and this would set off a chain of events that would forever change the way things would have played out in that fictional show I remember. One change would lead to another, and then another, the ship would arrive too early, or too late, or with completely different capabilities, until the problems the Voyager was facing were unrecognizable.

"Computer," I firmly said as way of a reply, "access my private files and transfer the specifications in Project: Tali 1.0 to holo-program Shepard-Alpha-One. Then render the item in the display circle."

There was a confirmation chirp, and a few seconds later a gun-metal grey vambrace appeared on a chest height podium in the circle. It wasn't overly large or ornate, maybe seven and a half centimeters long, and just large enough to fit around my wrist. It was designed to be self-adjusting, flexible, so it could be slapped on and then forgotten about. The top of the band had what looked like a miniature phaser array running around in, but that was actually a series of miniature holographic projectors just like the ones used in this room.

The original omnitools used carefully controlled, tiny mass effect fields, which required element zero and Omni-gel, two things which I just didn't have. Without Eeezo, I needed a work-around, and the emitters would be just that. It made half the programs I knew how to code into it absolutely useless, but it was the best I could do with what I had. 'Inventing' Omni-gel later on would be helpful, but this base tech would be enough to change things quite a bit.

"Tali, huh?" Torres commented, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged at her noncommittally, answering with a quick, "Old girlfriend." Gods I loved the Quarians. Waving to it, I smiled at the young woman and explained, "So this is what I wanted to show you. A little side project of mine for the last couple of years. Well, one of my side projects. This one, I call it the Omni-Tool."

"Okay," the engineer nodded consideringly, stepping closer to it and examining the device, "but what does it do? From the name, I'm going to assume it's some kind of multi-purpose equipment?"

I nodded in reply, and then faltered when I realized I was going to have to give the sales pitch to her. I knew what this was, and the dozens of things it could do, but no one else here would. If wanted Torres to understood what this was, I'd have to explain its capabilities in detail. Or at least the capabilities I'd figured out how to implement so far.

"The omni-tool," I began, moving forward and strapping the device to my right arm, "is a multipurpose diagnostic and manufacturing tool, with a built-in computer. The intent in its construction was to make a tool that was viable for a multitude of tasks, such as hacking, decryption, or repair."

At her look of disbelief, I turned on the device and a large holographic gauntlet wrapped over my hands and my forearm to the elbow. I had some ideas for future generations of this device, for example a combat version that didn't glow and could make projections that were as solid as actual armor, but for now the image presented was similar to the Mass Effect versions of the device. The orange wasn't as brilliant, but I got the distinct pleasure of watching the Chief Engineer jump at the sudden appearance.

With my off hand, I tapped the top of the hologram which caused an interface panel to slide up and out. A few swipes, similar to how I used to use my old smartphone, and I was in the settings manually changing the color from orange to blue, red, and then purple before winding back to orange and adjusting a slider that changed the brightness from "ghostly" to "obnoxious" and then back to default.

"As you can see," I said, "you can adjust its appearance to your own personal preferences."

I waved her over and pointed down at the interface panel. "This screen acts as 'home' screen from where you can navigate to different applications. It can be used with your off hand, like I have been doing, or," I moved holographic-covered fingers and watched as the screen moved, "with your primary."

With my off-hand I tapped a button on the screen that looked like a wrench and hammer crossed over each other, which caused bright orange ring to appear over the back of my hand. "This is the tool function. You can either scroll through pre-programmed list of our most common tools," I tapped on the hammer and one appeared in my right hand, "or just call out the name of the tool you want."

I let go of the hammer, and it looked like gravity began to pull it down and away before it just vanished in a burst of glowing motes. Once it was gone, I called out, "Plasma-torch," and a moment later a pen-like object appeared in the right hand, the same way the hammer had. Moving over to my workbench, I activated the tool and a hot-blue beam of light burned into the surface. While it wasn't actually a torch, the simulated molecules moved with the same speed and energy, exciting the molecules of the table just as a normal torch would. After drawing a smiling-face, I stepped away, waving to it and informing her, "powered tools are not an obstacle."

Torres nodded along, grinning slightly, moving a hand over my impromptu drawing and feeling the heat. It was all simulated, but it should still work. "I can see how that could make things easier. Would be nice to not have to worry about carrying around a whole tool kit, or wondering if the person helping me would grab the actual tool I asked for."

She walked over to me, and ran her fingers along the torch handle in my hand. She blinked, "Feels like the real thing."

"It should," I said, "I based the holographic program on the same ones we use for holodecks, and then adjusted the confinement beams to the point that everything works just like the real thing. Well, almost like the real thing." I slammed the head of the torch on the side of the table, Torres flinching as, instead bending or, worse, exploding, it instead dissolved into shimmering orange light.

Holding out my hand and commanding, "Plasma-torch," again, and it re-formed in my hand. Dropping it, it dispersed itself once more. "The effects are the same, but it's not really there, so anything that isn't it's primary function won't be possible." Dropping the tool and closing the app. As the ring above my hand faded.

Tapping another app, this one with the icon of a radar screen, the disk appeared just above my open palm while a display screen formed on the gauntlet. Unlike the tiny screens used on every handheld Starfleet device, this one ran the entire length and was easy to read. "This is the tricorder function. As you can see, the disk that symbolizes that an application is active appears in different locations so you can never get mixed up what is running. The default program is for an engineering tricorder, but with a quick swipe it can switch functions to medical scans instead."

I displayed the ease of switching back and forth, and then held my palm up to the palm tree I had impulsive conjured. "It's as good as the handheld devices, but not the larger scanners in the Medbay, but it doesn't need to. The device works as intended. See, it says that's a holographic projection, while you and I are meatbag organics."

Torres snapped her head up to look at me, raising an eye in suspicion. "Does it literally say 'meatbag' on that thing?"

"No," I chuckled, "an old friend of mine used to think robots were better than people. So he called us meatbags. Just an old joke."

"You have a lot of old friends," she commented, looking back down at the device on my arm.

I wasn't about to tell her the truth about that joke, or admit to being frustrated with how much of an absolute pain in the ass it had been to turn the basic tricorder functionality into an interactive app without projecting the entire device. The knowledge for building an omni-tool had been the easy part. The second information dump had given me enough different construction methods that I learned how to construct the device using Trek-tech and brought it up to a functional level, but, rather than just program in the normal Mass Effect programs, integrating functionality from other pieces of Trek-tech had required me to spend every free moment I've had for a week figuring out how to make it work the way I needed it.

I could've just provided it to the chief engineer with the basic uses, but, without the additional functionality, chances were Torres would just point out that what they already had was better. As I lowered my arm and pressed the shutdown button, I grinned at the woman and said, "So, this has been a little side project of mine, a hobby really. What do you think?"

"Well," Torres drew out, obviously trying to be nice, "I feel a little confused. I thought you said you needed my help with something."

"Ah," I smirked, "I do."

"I've got it to this point, and it works on paper," I explained, "but now I need someone to manufacture the damn thing, solve the problems that crop up while doing that, and have someone use it. Also, I'm hoping you will consider it an appropriate bribe."

"Bribe?" Torres looked at me, cocking her head in confusion, but folding her arms in suspicion.

Nodding at her, I explained, "I'm not happy with the armaments on board. As Chief of Security, it's my job to make sure everyone's safe, so I'm looking to make something a bit more rugged in the field and more intimidating against potential enemies than a four inch stick."

I tapped my padd a few times, pushing instructions to the holodeck computer, which displayed them on the wall. The engineer glared unbelieving at me, not bothering to look at them, and shot back incredulously, "And what, exactly, is so wrong with a type-two phaser that requires you to redesign something everyone in Starfleet, and the Maquis, is trained to use?"

"Besides the fact that it has sixteen different settings?" I asked rhetorically. She stared back, uncomprehendingly, and I shook my head. "The phaser is an excellent tool, I'm not disputing that. It is very sleek and versatile."

"Then why do you need something else?" she insisted, leaning back against the bench once more. Her stance was closed off and the frown she wore made me feel as if I had insulted her family.

"Because it isn't designed for the role we use it for," I said simply, listing off its flaws: "For anything more than three meters away, it is wildly inaccurate. It/s small enough that it can be easily stolen in urban environments, leaving the user defenseless. It has too many settings, which can create issues if you are in a firefight when your stun-setting is suddenly thermal, a wide cone, or just outright lethal. Worst of all though, it doesn't look dangerous."

Torres barely moved in response, only raising an eyebrow at me to continue while she prompted, "Doesn't look dangerous?"

I looked the half-Klingon up and down, and grinned. "Have you ever looked at our tools with a critical eye? From the way we brandish it, any aliens unfamiliar with the device can tell it is a weapon of some kind, but, objectively, it looks like a toy you would give a child to play with. Hell, our Tricolors would look just as dangerous if we held them the same way we hold our phasers. What I want," I told her, finishing what I was typing up, "is something like this."

On the workbench, materialized a phaser and phaser rifle from the Kelvin-timeline Star Trek. Or at least as close to it as I could recreate from my memories. It had a sleeker profile, largely by replacing the chrome-like finish with a matte black that seemed to drink in the light, giving it a much more intimidating appearance. There was no mistaking this for a toy.

I waved at them. "This is just what I want the exterior casing to look like. I based their designs off the early phase-pistols and rifles in our database and then brought them up to something more modern looking, but if you have any suggestions please feel free to point them out. The main thing is I'm not looking for a tool that shoots a single continuous particle beam. The phaser already does that and will make an excellent field-tool. I'm not suggesting we don't carry the phaser, just that security carries something more. What I'm looking for is similar to the ancient EM-33's, they shot concentrated pulses of energy instead of a single beam you have to maintain."

"You seem to know you're way around a workshop," Torres pointed out, turning her back to me and looking over the specs I'd displayed on the wall for the first time. From her tone, she was obviously trying to figure out my angle, "and you've done all this research, why not build it yourself?" she turned to look back at me, gauging my reaction.

I smiled at her, "Well, rather than spend the next month or so working out the idea and developing a prototype on my own, I thought I would enlist the aid of our lovely chief engineer and bribe her with a tool that should make her life easier."

"So," B'Elanna slowly spoke, turning her back on me again and spending a few more seconds looking over what I was showing her while, ostensibly, thinking over the deal, "You are going to pass me this device-"

"-omni-tool," I helpfully supplied.

"Omni-tool, thank you," she nodded her head in my direction and moved on, "to beta test and in exchange you want me to help you design a weapon."

"Well, you won't be the only one beta testing," I supplied, "and I'm not going to ask you to take detailed notes of how it works for you if you don't want to, just use your greater engineering expertise point out when it doesn't something it wasn't supposed to. Once the bugs are worked out of this vambrace version, it will be easier to add a working final version to our standard uniforms."

The engineer reached over and grabbed the holographically created pistol case without looking at me, turning it over in her hands, and even held it out as if she was shooting at imaginary targets on the other end of the room. "I have to admit, with the internals of an electromagnetic weapon, properly distributed, this design would be well balanced and feels more comfortable in my hands. And it certainly is more interesting looking than the type-two we usually use."

She put it down, repeating the process with the rifle case. "Okay," she suddenly decided, turning to look me over, "I'll help you out. But on one condition."

I hadn't expected her to agree that easily. Hoped, yes, but I wasn't going to argue with her. "Just one?"

Smirking at me, Torres continued, "I heard what you said in the meeting yesterday about having training simulations for the Security teams. I want in."

I narrowed my eyes in thought, already figuring out how to slot her in, even as I asked, "Why?"

The engineer shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly and smiled, "Should be interesting. And, if nothing else, I should be able to get a decent workout." After a moment's pause, she added hesitantly, "Unless your training sessions are similar to Tuvok's, and focuses on procedures and rules."

"In a way, they would," I admitted offhandedly, her expression starting to wilt, "but only in that It'll be testing 'rules' of engagement and 'procedures' on how to extract captured personnel from hostile forces."

"Then I want in," she repeated, grinning.

"Deal," I said, extending a hand, which she grasped firmly and shook. Before I could say anything more, the ship shook, and we hung onto each other for stability. We both looked at each other, heading for the door at the same time. "Security team, go on standby," I directed as Torres commanded "Engineering, report."

"Hull breach on deck 3, but it's sealed. Engineering's fine, Lieutenant," the on-duty Engineering lead's voice replied through B'Elanna's comm badge.

I paused at the doorway and turned back, working the holographic Omni-tool that still rested on my arm. Connecting it to the ship's systems, Torres stopped as well. "What are you doing?" she demanded, "We need to go."

My training wasn't in the field, but I felt my stomach drop as I pulled up Voyager's sensor readings. However, I needed to be sure. I opened up the display wider, until it was several feet square. "What does this look like to you?"

The engineer growled to herself a little as she stepped up beside me, confirming what I thought as she said, "It's a debris field of deferentially charged polaric ions. Is this what the ship's seeing?" I nodded. "You've sold me, now let's go!"

I followed her out, the Omni-tool disappearing from my arm as I crossed the threshold. My doubts about what I should do, however, stayed as B'Ellana's comm badge spoke with Janeway's voice, "Miss Torres, meet us in transporter room two."