How about I publish the ACTUAL Chapter three - not the much later chapter that I'M STILL EDITING?! Gah!
Voyager - Year 1
Lieutenant Harry Potter chimed the captain's doorbell as soon as he was at her ready room. He'd just gotten on board and dropped all his things in his quarters and had headed to her as soon as he'd gotten the message requesting he see her soonest. Janeway's supposed to be a good captain. I look forward to serving on Voyager.
The door opened to show him a striking woman. "Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. Glad to have you here."
"Thank you, Captain. I'm glad to be here."
"Now that you're here, Lieutenant, I need to call Admiral Jaaymeson. Apparently you being on this ship allows certain clearances to be relaxed. Do you have any idea what this might be about?"
"Yes, Captain, but I'd rather not say until the Admiral either confirms or denies my suspicion."
"Good thinking. You'll go far with an attitude like that. Computer, connect me with Admiral Jaaymeson and put him on my large screen."
A moment later, the familiar face of a Weasley descendant appeared on the screen, but not before the computer asked Janeway to authorise a secure connection. "Ah, Katherine, I was waiting for this call. Lt Potter. Good to see you on board the Voyager. You're there for a reason."
"Sir?" he asked, more than a little confused.
"I have some pictures for you, which is why I insisted on the secure connection. Note that this first one was taken during the spring of 1998, by a Colin Creevey."
Harry stiffened at that, and nearly fainted when he saw the picture of himself in a Starfleet uniform, Looking roughly the age he was right now, standing on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Hermione Granger stood next to him, his arm around her shoulder in a very friendly manner. Behind them was a shuttle.
"Nobody had ever located this picture before, but when you arrived, we did a system-wide search, and found this in a private database. Once we checked that picture out, we extended the search and found the following in what was, for the day, a highly secure governmental database. Why the data was still around, we don't know."
The picture that came up was Voyager in orbit around Earth, with two other ships of apparent Federation design near her. One of them appeared to be the ship he was standing in front of in the first picture. The other was unknown. The ship from the Hogwarts picture, as Harry was already thinking of it, appeared to be powering up weapons. The photo appeared to have been taken by an orbiting satellite, which Harry found strange, but didn't question.
"This picture came to us while the Intrepid class was still on the drawing board, to use a twentieth century colloquialism. The time stamp is roughly concurrent with when you are photographed with your arm around that attractive young lady."
"Well, isn't this a fine mess," Harry Potter said as he looked out over the remains of the Caretaker's array.
"You have made an enemy this day," the Kazon Maj declared to the captain. Harry kept himself silent rather than snark the way he would have liked to.
As the screen went back to the view of space, Captain Janeway asked, "I recognise that tilt of your head, Lieutenant. You have something to say?"
"Mere snark at the Maj, Captain, nothing more."
"We could all use a laugh right now. Let's hear it."
"It wasn't really all that funny, but I was basically thinking something along the lines of him saying 'I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blo-o-o-o-ow your house down!' That's all." He heard soft snickering amongst the people on the bridge, including from the captain.
"Yes, well, I'm pleased that you have the ability to censor yourself when necessary," she said, the amusement plain in her voice.
"I'd have been dead at twelve if I couldn't," he replied. "The first time through twelve, that is."
"Let's get underway for the Alpha Quadrant, and then I'd like a meeting in my ready room with all upper staff of both Starfleet and the Maquis. Mr Paris, I'll want you there as well."
"Yes Captain," Paris said, a mild mocking tone to his voice.
A few minutes later, Harry found himself at a table with Chakotay, Commander Tuvok, B'Elanna Torres, Tom Paris, Captain Janeway, and someone named Seska who put his teeth on edge. "We need to integrate the crews," Janeway said. "Suggestions? And as long as we keep the profanity down, you have permission to speak freely."
There was a moment of silence before Harry shrugged and said, "Personally, if you don't have your heart set on Commander Tuvok as your Number One, I'd suggest Mr Chakotay."
"Explain," Tuvok said.
"Simple. Half of our crew is Maquis now, by simple requirement that we need them to survive, and vice versa. What better way to integrate them than by having a man known for his command skills take the job. As long as Captain Janeway listens to him, that should quell a lot of arguments."
"It will not stop them all, Lieutenant."
"I know that, sir. But if the captain is seen relying on one of the Maquis for advice and guidance, it should help. Some will say that he's gone to the other side. That's always going to happen. You'll never get one hundred percent support."
"You sound as if you have some knowledge of that," Tom Paris said.
Harry snorted. "Intimate knowledge, unfortunately. Part of the crap that threw me forward into the twenty-fourth century. That's not relevant, though, Mr Paris."
"Since you seem to be on a roll, Lieutenant, any further suggestions?" Captain Janeway asked. "I see the influence of Jean Luc in your reference to my first officer."
"Sorry 'bout that. Habit. Chances are, you're going to need good pilots in the next two to three years. I'd recommend that you make Mr Paris's commission a real one and put the two of us in charge of training up new helmsmen. You grabbed him as a backup to me, rather than have me on pilot duty 24/7. Make that official."
"You're trusting our lives to him?" Chakotay asked with a growl.
"According to the place I came from, I'm a highly disturbed attention seeking boy who makes up stories to scare people rather than a crack pilot. Personally, I think Starfleet screwed up big time when they kicked Paris out. He might be a different man today if they'd punished him properly, rather than drumming him out for doing the right thing. Drum him back to cadet and make him work his way up again or something. I suspect it was his father that pushed for the expulsion, though." He shook his head. "I respect your ability to lead, sir, but I am not going to judge Tom Paris based on what everyone else says I should. I'm going to judge him on our interactions. You may hate him for his Starfleet problems, and then for betraying you. What are you going to do if oh … say … Seska betrays you and us?" He looked to the woman who bothered him. "Not saying you will, by the way. Just an example."
"I understand," she said in a tone that seemed to echo her words. For some reason, that put Harry even more on edge.
"My point is that not everyone has the same purpose for being in the Maquis. He was looking for a job. You were looking for patriots. I understand both sides. But you hired him for his ability to fly, did you not?"
"Don't take that tone with me, Starfleet," Chakotay warned.
"Yes, yes, I understand that yours are bigger and made from duranium. Doesn't answer the question, and in the long run, unless you mutiny, you don't make the decision. We need to work together. Unless you've got a more kick-ass pilot than Tom still alive, we need him to help train up the next group of pilots."
"If I might ask," Seska asked with a confused look, "what were you referring to when you said that they were bigger and made of duranium?"
The others around the table chuckled, save a blushing Harry and a scowling Chakotay. "Sorry. I was being a bit crude."
B'Elanna jumped in. "Starfleet there was chopping Chakotay off at the knees in a dick-waving contest, saying that Chakotay was acting like his testicles are made of duranium." Seska looked confused for a moment more as she assimilated the knowledge and then laughed.
Harry turned to Chakotay. "I really do understand where you're coming from with the Maquis. I was part of an underground group in my original time. We were fighting an insane man who wanted to rule the world and kill anyone he didn't consider 'pure'. I was on what our government considered 'the wrong side'. Sound familiar?"
"We're not going to be buddy-buddy," Chakotay growled. It was clear that he understood the message Harry was trying to get across, and was having none of it.
"I doubt we'll ever get past saying hello to each other in a civil tone, to be honest, but we're going to have to work together if we want to get home. Right now, it looks like about seventy years worth of travel will get us there. None of the Federation's starships have ever survived that long. We need each other if we're ever going to get home. Snarking isn't gonna cut it. We'll need Ms Torres in Engineering, for example."
He smiled at her. "The last person I heard of that could make an engine do what you do was a Montgomery Scott, if even half of what I've heard about him was true. We'll need that kind of 'on the fly' kind of work, I'm betting."
He suddenly blushed again. "Sorry, Captain. Getting a little too into my subject."
"You make some excellent suggestions. I will come back to you all later as my decision is made."
"I'll go to the brig for as long as you want, Captain, but I stand by my decision to shoot to kill with Seska. She was working with the Kazon, and shooting her before she could transport out to be with them may have saved us a lot of heartache in the future." Harry said to Captain Janeway as he was being debriefed in the captain's ready room. Chakotay and Tuvok were there as well, as was Tom Paris.
"I'm a little worried that you're too quick to shoot to kill. We prefer to leave our opponents alive," she replied. She was sharp in her tone, but didn't seem too angry.
"Permission to speak freely, Captain?" he asked. When she nodded, he began. "When I came from, I was seeing something very similar from my Headmaster at my school. The problem with being gentle with them in such a manner is that they see us as soft. Ask B'Elanna about how the Klingons would see such a manoeuvre. Remember what started the intense contempt that the Klingon's held us in? We let them go after defeating them. To them, you enslave a race you defeat. Where I came from, giving the Death Eaters a second chance taught them that there were no real consequences. The battle I was in that shot me forward was similar - we did non-lethal things to them and were continually fighting them, because they'd get up and come right back at us. I guarantee that Seska won't be coming back to cause us any further trouble, and if we give the Kazon her body, they might think twice about continuing to harass us." He sighed. "Look, I'm not happy about killing. I don't like it, but this incident should teach a lesson." He shook his head. "If it had been Carey, I'd have done the same thing, so Maquis/Starfleet doesn't enter into it."
"I'm not so sure about that, Lieutenant," Chakotay said sharply. "You've never liked Seska. You could just as easily have been using your position to deal with her permanently."
"The Commander outranks me and is within his rights to have me confined to the brig, am I correct, Captain?"
"Technically, you are correct, but I would prefer to keep you out of the brig."
"Ah, but Commander Chakotay would rather keep the slavering monster away from his Maquis. I might find an excuse to heinously murder more of them."
"Are you attempting to get me to throw you in the brig, Lieutenant?" Janeway asked.
"Not really, but it's a talk you're going to have to have with him. Right now, your two best pilots are people that he detests with a passion. If he has his way, I will be tried for the murder of . . . whatever she was to him."
Chakotay growled. "She was one of our crew."
"Was she? If I hadn't stopped her, she was going to head to the Kazon ship with a large amount of knowledge of Federation technology. Sounds to me like she was willing to give up everybody for her own comfort. Not someone I'd describe as 'one of us'."
"Mr Neelix?"
"Oh, just call me Neelix, Lieutenant!" the cheerful alien said to Harry. "What can I help you with? Perhaps some coffee?"
"Not right now, but you've managed to get right to the heart of why I wanted to speak to you. I'm doing this on my own time, and without the knowledge of the captain. In my time, they might have said, 'The views expressed are not necessarily those of the management.'"
"Is something wrong?" If anything, Neelix was mercurial. He had gone from quite cheerful to overly worried.
"It's in regards to your cooking," Harry said. "I'm going to be harsh, and then offer you a solution."
"If it helps, I'm all ears, I think your saying is," Neelix said, now extremely intent on what Harry was about to say.
"To be blunt, Mr Neelix, from the point of view of humans, which comprise the majority of the crew, your cooking is not as edible as we would like." He held up a hand to forestall Neelix's comment, which was about to come from an opening mouth. "I think that the problem is coming from the fact that your taste senses are different from ours. You find it delicious, correct?" Neelix nodded. "Exactly. Both sides are at fault here, and I'm willing to help you in my off hours. I have cooked for humans before, and I can help you make things to human tastes."
"I'm sorry that the crew doesn't like my cooking. I have tried."
"I know, and they do too. They haven't wanted to hurt your feelings, because they like you. So do I. But . . . well, sometimes you have to cause a little pain to make things better for everyone."
"Like when my uncle had to his squidules operated on!" Neelix exclaimed. "Cheered him right up after that, but it certainly wasn't anything he or anyone else wanted to go through." He looked conspiratorially at Harry, as if Neelix's uncle might overhear. "The rest of us were pretty happy about the change in him too."
I will not ask what a squidule is, I will not ask what a squidule is . . . "When is a good time for me to begin helping you learn how to cook for humans? In return, I promise to see if I can learn how to cook for you, so that you don't always have to cook for yourself."
"My compliments to the chef, Neelix!" Tom Paris said. "This stew is delicious!"
"Thank your Mr Potter for that. He took me aside and explained about human taste buds. I appreciate that you didn't want to hurt my feelings, but . . . well, I would have changed sooner if I'd known.
"We're sorry for that, Mr Neelix," Captain Janeway said to him. "We're still so new to integrating everyone into one crew that we simply didn't wish to offend someone who was going out of his way to help us when he didn't have to."
"So did Lt Potter cook this?" Harry Kim asked.
The doors opened right then. "Did I make what?" He took a deep breath. "I was right! Leola root made a great counterpoint to the sweetness of the charmek leaves." He grabbed a plate of the stew and sat down in his usual place, away from the others and alone.
Harry Kim scowled for a moment as he watched everyone slowly return to their meals. He'd seen the entire exchange, and it bothered him. Potter seemed able to handle the duties, but also seemed very alone. He suddenly stood, plate in hand, and strode away from the table that Tom Paris was sitting at. "Mind if I join you, Lieutenant?"
"Sure you want to be seen with 'Wonder Boy Potter'?" Potter asked. "At least, that's what they've been snidely calling me since the Academy."
"I'm not going to be sitting with 'Wonder Boy Potter'. I hope to sit with someone who might be a friend some day." He knew he'd made the right decision when he saw a real smile cross the Lieutenant's face.