7. The Skeletons POV

I stand in front of a big bronze buste of an ancient warrior.

I have a healthy respect for people with taste. Not class, that's just stylish elegance. Someone with taste however can appreciate what's truly worth looking at, what's worth listening to. Someone with taste can filter out the nonsense and the fakes.

Fakes like the spineless grey man downstairs who was barking like a little pet dog when he was at the door but withered away once the situation got real. Fakes like the empty-headed Klingons who believe that by busting up an admiral they will get their useless monetary award for military prowess on the battlefield. Jamais à l'aise devant les gens faux, the universe would be better off without the fakes.

Admiral Kathryn Janeway though, she has taste. Perhaps not on the surface, it took me a while to recognise her for who she is; she´s married a fake and spends her days bickering with supposedly important, fake people. She has adapted to the world of fakes. But there is more to her, the warriorhead is proof of that. She admires the worn down, heroic warrior and understands that life is about surviving, about being stronger than the next. She can appreciate the beauty in that. It must be a tough lesson for her, cette petite femme-là. While she prevails in the fast world that has forgotten values like unity, efficiency, strength and honesty, she still comes home to this little treasure and pays ode to its bold handsomeness. Chapeau! Earlier, I had found the rosary; a first clue of Janeways unlikely depth. Too bad it's she behind these tedious, peace-keeping reforms. She is strong and quick-witted so she might hold out long but, peu importe, it won't matter. In the end she will perish and every Janeway-obsessed human will blame Kronos; a first in a series of carefully staged attacks that will ensure tension to rise between Kronos and the Federation. A tension that keeps bureaucrats sharp, provides heroes for otherwise spoilt children and reminds lazy people of matters truly important. The whole sector has fallen asleep to the lull of technology -people don't listen to each other anymore, they'd rather read their data padds and play with holograms. People have forgotten that it's wartime when a nation is shaped and strong characters are formed.

I find myself in Janeways bedroom and stare into her dressing mirror. I take off my black shirt and stand in awe of the tattooed art that is my reflection; I am no ordinary man who gives in to the superficial desires of life, I am the bare nessecity, I am bare to the bone and I will give mankind the enemy it needs to rise above itself.

I turn to the huge bed on top of which she has started packing -putain! she won't be missed for days. We have time to create utter chaos. I might even explore the fascinations of this woman, who is worthy of the privilege, being the paradoxal little damsel that she is. I sit down on the bed and push my head forcefully into the pillow. I had been close to her downstairs and I can tell it smells like her -vanilla, cinnamon, I can't quite pin down the scent. As I sit up I open her nightstand and am riveted to find Plato's 'The Republic' -a book that acknowledges how every person has a place in society and should converge his lifegoal with the greatness of the state. The perfect state is one where every man's potential is optimally exhausted- truly riveting. In Plato's fantasy I would be the guardian of her intellect. Together we would improve our kind. I find my breathing quickens at my excitement. I will definitely take my time with this perplexing woman. I wonder how much of her intriguing life she has left to live.

Bare chested and impassioned I head back down but before I reach the stairs one of the senseless Klingons bumps into me and with one arm pushes me against the wall. "Zut Alors! What do you think you're doing?!" The inferior soul needs to be straightened out.

"YOU, you knew she cannot undo the new laws, you knew of this...decentralized Council!" he growls like an animal.

I'm amused to find she's managed to spread doubt in the soldiers heads. My admiration grows.

"The madam has outsmarted you I hear." I say. For a moment he thinks I'm admitting my guilt but I correct him. "Do you have lard for a brain?! Of course she would say such nonsense, she tries to turn us against each other."

He holds tight and and lifts me off the floor. "HOW can I be sure of that?!" he threatens. Looking down on him he looks even more like a caveman than he already did. Calmly I say "..you want me to prove she's intelligent?" ...d'accord. "How about the fact that she is responsible for these reforms ridicule and this whole sector, including Kronos, adheres her in applying them. You have to be a cunning minx to execute such a scheme." Their puny minds are so easily misled.

"She's a tough one." The second Klingon joins us. "...or she speaks the truth and is unable to undo the vote."

"Trust me," I say, still pinned to the wall "...either she will break. Or we will break her."