Ch 2. Captain
Stoic, yellow eyes swept over the sleek bridge. It was significantly smaller than the Enterprise D where Data had spent most of his service thus far, but its size did nothing to belittle its efficiency. The legends forming around this starship, as well as the exploits of her valiant crew and Captain, had been spreading ever since her heroic return from the distant Delta Quadrant.
Officers in gold dotted the room: fiddling with a comm here, tinkering with a purposely exposed panel there, all under the command of one fiery Lieutenant Commander. The ridges on her forehead spoke of Klingon ancestry, but her light skin tone and small frame suggested another set of genetic influence, human perhaps. Data made a mental note to speak to her when she was not so heavily burdened.
"Excuse me, Sir?" The voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he returned his attention to the crewman leading his personal tour. "Shall we… Shall we move on, Sir?"
Putting on his best serious face and tugging his uniform shirt from the bottom-a very Captain-ly mannerism he had borrowed from a trustworthy source-Data provided the response to which he had become so accustomed: "Make it so." He briefly wondered if Captain Riker had taken this much pleasure in utilizing the phrase during his first command, but there was no time for a lengthy deliberation on the matter, as his tour guide was advancing toward the Captain's Ready Room.
Data followed the crewman to the opposite side of the bridge, where the doors parted to grant him entrance to the Ready Room, their automated "whoosh" so like and yet so unlike the Enterprise. Behind the desk sat a slightly older, heavier-set man who wore five pips on his collar. He looked up from the pad in his hands and smiled at the pair of them. "Thank you, Crewman. That will be all." Dismissed, the crewman nodded and left Data alone with the Admiral.
"You must be Mr. Data. Welcome. I'm Admiral Paris, and would you believe that this isn't my first experience with this ship?" He chuckled as he rose from the chair and offered Data his hand. "Yessir, I'm proud to say I helped get this beautiful ship home." he added almost wistfully.
"Ah, yes," said Data cheerily, records whizzing around in his positronic brain, important events pushing to the front of his focus. "Admiral Owen Paris, father of Lieutenant Thomas Paris, Director of both the Pathfinder Project in 2374 and Operation Watson in 2378, which were vital in the early communication with the Delta Quadrant beginning in 2376, and the eventual recovery of-"
"Mr. Data?" the Admiral politely interrupted, an understanding smile deepening his wrinkles. He straightened his uniform with apparent displeasure and slight discomfort at having to cut off the officer before him, especially on such riveting a topic. "I, ah… I know who I am."
"Of course, Sir. My apologies," returned Data, circuitry effectively blushing even if his pale pseudo-skin remained constant. He extended his hand and clasped that of the Admiral, whereupon he shook with obvious fervor. "It is very good to meet you, Sir."
"Oh, none of that," Admiral Paris replied jovially, clapping Data's back casually when his hand became free. "Not on this ship, anyway. Now come!" He directed Data out of the Ready Room and to the nearest turbo lift. From there, they entered into a somewhat-winding hallway and progressed at a surprising pace for someone of the Admiral's advanced age. Data was not entirely sure where they were going, but nonetheless, he mapped the halls mentally as they went; wherever it was they were headed, he surely would need to go there again at some point or another. Their stroll halted in front of another average looking door.
"Well then, here we are," the Admiral announced. He punched a code into the pad next to the door and gestured for Data to enter as it slid open. With a polite nod, he strode into what must have been the briefing room.
He stopped in the doorway to take stock of his immediate surroundings. The room extended slightly to his right, featuring an elliptically shaped table with ten chairs surrounding it. Seated nearest to Data was a Ferengi Lieutenant in a red uniform, who was turning multiple shades of a sickening green. Directly next to him was a Bolian Lieutenant whose attention was completely captivated by the pad in his hands.
A bit past the table stood three individuals; a balding human male and a blonde human female, both clad in blue uniforms, who had their backs to him, and a woman facing him who he knew must have been Admiral Kathryn Janeway. As he was examining the trio, her eyes glanced out to meet his, prompting her grin. She motioned in his direction, at which her two companions turned around to face him as well. Their faces remained blank as they nodded respectfully in his direction and followed the Admiral to their respective seats.
Admiral Paris moved to a seat between Janeway and the Ferengi and sat down to say a very animated hello to his fellow admiral. On Janeway's immediate left sat the balding man, and next to him the blonde woman. An empty seat marked the distance between the blonde and a small, female Bajoran, also in blue, who was speaking to the remaining officer standing: a tall Klingon female with three pips on her collar. Prompted by a subtle urging from the Bajoran, the Klingon paused their conversation to address Data. "Hello, Captain, and welcome to the USS Voyager."