Awards Repost: "...Seven Days" Part IIa/VII: VOY: P, Crew: NC-17
Jenn
{Day 4 0700 hours}
Present Time
Tom woke for Alpha shift, surprised he had slept at all. He stretched out
slowly, found the couch was too small (one of the reasons he was sleeping in
a fetal position in the first place) and stood up. {Ouch. One cramp, two
cramps, three cramps, four.why on earth do they make these couches so small?
Of course, people aren't supposed to sleep in the ready room, either, but a
little foresight.}
He picked up his turtleneck off the floor. Remarkably, sleeping in one's
uniform pants wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as he remembered --{though when
you are tired enough you can probably sleep in an stasis unit equally
well--oooh, I didn't need *that* kind of imagery this morning}-- but now
they were wrinkled. He looked at the blood on his turtleneck from Ensign
Zephyr and sighed. It needed to be washed; if he was going to play
Captain, he needed to look the part at least.
Slowly, still working out the cricks in his back and neck, he wandered over
to the replicator. {Did Vorik check this one yet?} Tom hit his comm badge.
"Paris to Vorik."
:::Vorik here, sir.:::
"Did you sweep the replicator in the ready room?"
:::Yes, sir.:::
Tom appeared satisfied. Then a thought occurred to him: Vorik hadn't been
to the Bridge after the mutiny. Certainly not before Tom had appropriated
the ready room for a bedroom.
"Vorik, *when* did you scan it?"
A very long pause.
::While you were sleeping, sir. Lieutenant Nicoletti informed me you would
probably wish for coffee this morning and I was to make sure the replicator
was safe for use."
{That was excellent, Sue. A commendation for saving my ass this morning.
And Vorik old man, you are becoming quite the criminal hacker. We can share
a cell at Auckland.}
"Good work, Ensign. Carry on. I'll relieve you in," he checked the
chronometer, "fifty minutes."
:::Yes, sir.:::
"Paris out."
{You gotta love Vulcans. No unnecessary conversation, get straight to the
point and just do it. Very, very nice.}
Tom went to the replicator.
"Large espresso, hot, bill to Tom Paris, authorization Paris Psi Tau Kappa."
The cup appeared, and it was indeed large. Tom rubbed his eyes and picked
up the cup. {Gods, this is bitter. Maybe I should have asked for
raktajino.} But it had the desired effect, waking him up quite thoroughly.
Feeling a little more alive, and the cramps gone, he leaned against the wall
by the replicator.
"One pair of uniform pants and one shirt, size Tom Paris, bill to Tom Paris,
authorization Paris Psi Tau Kappa." {I hope I have enough replicator
rations for that, I can't go to my room looking like this and I'll be
*damned* if I will send someone to get me clothes.}
However, his luck was still with him, and the items appeared instantly.
Setting down the cup, he stripped off his clothes and redressed. His
uniform jacket was still outside on the Bridge.
{Ah, no it's not. Bless Vulcan efficiency, Vorik must have brought it in.}
His jacket sat on the chair by the desk. He fished his original turtleneck
up and removed the pip and put it on his clean uniform. He wished, rather
wistfully, that he had time for a shower. {Later.}
He sat down at the desk, closed his eyes, and took a long shot of very hot
coffee.
He knew he would need it.
* * * * *
{Day 4 0800 hours}
Present Time
"Report."
The Bridge was at half-strength, with Baytart holding down the conn, Vorik
in command, and young Ensign Larson, actually a member of security, sitting
in at Ops. Tom had made significant changes to the command the night
before, combining some tasks with others to keep as many people possible
fixing the extremely odd changes that had occurred during the "shore leave
crew's" few returns from the planet.
The warp core had almost been completely detached, and the computers
infected with what appeared to be a kind of information-gathering worm virus
that had kept Vorik and Crewman Stein up half the night fixing. The
environmental controls had been subtly changed to slowly add more nitrogen
to the air, and the replicators had only just been cleared of the presence
of the hallucinogen. Carey had yet to leave engineering, still hard at work
re-attaching power relays and plasma conduits that had been sealed shut. It
was slow going for all the crew.
Those with even minor medical training were charged with helping the Doctor
find out exactly what they were dealing with. Before the takeover the night
before, Tom had run med scans on seven of the infected crewmen to be
compared with the baselines they had on record in Sickbay. Just to see if
what Ricarla had told him was true
She had disclosed some information--{under duress, but information is
information, however you get it, and I don't really think she would
lie}--but it was not enough. Not nearly enough.
"All systems are back on-line, sir," Vorik announced, standing up from the
Big Chair. Tom looked at him speculatively, but he didn't seem to feel the
same discomfort Tom had sitting in it. {Interesting. Maybe it's just
me--and Sue, perhaps.}
"Did you finish setting the command lock-outs?"
"Yes, sir. The computer will not accept commands from anyone not currently
residing on Voyager."
"Double check and make sure all codes belonging to the senior staff are
erased. We can't afford mistakes, Vorik."
"Yes, sir."
"Captain Janeway also has two sets of override commands set in this system,
instituted after Seska's takeover of the ship. I need those found and
disabled, on the off-chance she could get into the Voyager computers from
the surface." He glanced around the quiet Bridge, checked the chronometer,
and almost on cue Susan Nicoletti walked in. He gave her an acknowledging
nod. Just behind her, Samantha Wildman exited the turbolift, going to her
station as the new acting head of Ops, relieving poor beleaguered Larson.
"Not bad, Ensigns." They each flashed a tentative smile back, and took
their positions. Tom handed Sue the PADD Vorik had given him detailing the
latest repairs, and she set herself to work.
"Vorik, go to bed." At Vorik's arched eyebrow, the Vulcan equivalent of
shock, Tom was hard-pressed to keep from laughing. "I need you during both
Beta and Gamma shift today. Staff meeting at 1200 during lunch, it will be
here in the conference room. Don't worry, anyone, there will be food!"
More smiles from assorted members of the crew, a little less tense, more
real. "Where's Ensign Henna?"
"She's in engineering, sir, Lieutenant Carey requested her assistance. She
should be back within the hour to relieve me," Baytart reported.
Tom, with some dark humor, wished he had pulled his mutiny at the beginning
of the Gamma shift, rather than the middle. Beta would be the first shift
with a more or less complete complement of crew in the major departments Tom
had prioritized. Running with half a shift's complement made Tom nervous,
but the choice between keeping a full Bridge complement and getting all the
systems clean was no choice at all.
The assignments had not been easy. Somehow, they had managed to keep most
of his own conn department, and everyone in engineering except B'Elanna.
{Don't think, don't think, not now} They had lost most of security, ops,
and several important subsystems, including computer maintenance. Crewman
Joseph Stein was now in charge of that department, with only two extremely
junior crew to help him. Sue hadn't been able to assign him anyone extra,
but Joseph was an incredible programmer, as well as a good leader. Vorik was
helping him with some of the more advanced functions. Stellar Cartography
and most of the sciences had been temporarily disabled, the crew moved to
the prioritized areas, but it still left a huge gap. Whatever had been on
that planet had gone after the most skilled and most senior officers first.
{When Janeway ordered all the senior officers down there, I should have
protested, we should have been more careful; what the hell were we
thinking?}
It was pure luck that Tom hadn't gone down. His fight with B'Elanna had led
him to volunteer for skeleton bridge duty while the first wave of officers
went down, and it had been a full twenty-four hours, well into the second
day in orbit, before Captain Janeway had ordered general shore leave for the
rest of the crew. His competing Sickbay and Bridge duties, as well as a
general fit of the sulks, had kept him from signing up for leave.
His discoveries on the third day had, of course, assured he would not be
going down ever.
{Luck. Unbelievable luck, really.}
Tom shook his head, then hardened his expression, turning to Susan
Nicoletti.
"How are weapons?"
Surprised, she looked up from the data PADD she was perusing.
"Weapons are fully charged, sir. They weren't affected by the fight last
night." He nodded acknowledgement.
Tom studied the viewscreen. For the sake of variety, it had been switched
to an interior view of the nebula. The choice of hiding place had been
based on Tuvok's earlier comments on its density and the wave patterns,
which, as Tuvok so succinctly put it, "could hide any number of hostile
vessels." At the time, Tom thought Tuvok's usual professional paranoia was
amusing.
{Where the hell was that professional paranoia when we got here, anyway?
What the hell were we thinking?}
"Susan, I need a complete diagnostic and report on weapons and shields done
immediately. Is anyone assigned to tactical this shift?"
Susan scanned her PADD.
"No, sir, on Gamma shift Ensign Ayala will be assigned. Ensign Barker is on
during Beta. Is Ayala needed, sir?"
"Where is he now?" Tom caught his fingers tapping impatiently on the arm of
the chair and stopped.
"Computer, location of Lieutenant Ayala?" queried Susan.
:::Lieutenant Ayala is in his quarters.:::
She glanced at Tom.
"He received notice to be here for the staff meeting, sir, at 1200." Tom
nodded, knowing Ayala would be pulling more than Gamma shift tonight.
Tom went to tactical himself. It wasn't his specialty, but he had enough
knowledge to at least begin what would have to be done.
"That's be fine, Susan. Carry on."
Tom listened as Susan fielded inquiries and complaints from all over the
ship. {One nice thing about being a Captain, at least I don't have to deal
with that. Sue is much better at that sort of thing than I am, anyway.}
Shaking the thought aside, he began re-running the diagnostics that Vorik
had performed at the end of Gamma shift.
Susan Nicoletti was turning out to be an excellent exec. After their coup
had been completed, they had worked out the new crew rotations and
assignments. She was one of those people whom everyone was on good terms
with, and was able, after a little consultation with those in question, to
reassign personnel from non-essential areas to essential systems whose
departments had been reduced. Even better, she didn't question his
priorities on which systems needed the quickest relief.
"Have you decided who will be temporary Department Heads?" {Temporary. I
hope.}
Tom gave her a crooked smile.
"My co-conspirators, of course. Who ever told you crime doesn't pay?"
Susan laughed, but truthfully, she was impressed with Tom's planning skills.
When she had received Tom's message through Zephyr, she had been floored,
and yet, somehow, Tom had pulled it all together in record time. The plan
for the coup had been complete before the first crewmembers crept into cargo
bay one, and this had been a huge relief to all involved. The plan had been
perfect, taking everything into account, even turbolift speed and computer
response time.
To be honest, she shouldn't have been so surprised. While Tom's current
position on Voyager had been a reward from Captain Janeway, Tom had been
Starfleet and made it through Command School. He had been groomed his
entire life with expectation that one day he would captain a starship and
rise to Admiral. While the Caldik Prime incident had destroyed this
particular dream, and his Maquis activities finished driving that
expectation into the ground, there was no question that those abilities were
still present. Polished even, after serving under Captain Janeway.
Sue found some irony in the fact every one of them had so naturally followed
Tom when he chose to lead. Perhaps because of his lack of previous
loyalties when he was given his position on Voyager, most of the crew had
come to trust him. Not all, but the vast majority. He had become, in many
ways, a symbol of everyone's struggle to integrate Starfleet and Maquis,
outsider and insider.
Watching him work, she marveled how easily he had taken command. No one had
dissented his right to do so, and no one had questioned that authority
since. {Of course, when you have the top twelve remaining officers doing
the unquestioning support thing, I suppose it is only natural no one wants
to rock the boat. Besides, the only security people left are Ayala's
closest friends, since none of them wanted to go down to that planet without
the others, so personal loyalty there. Tom's department has incredible
loyalty to him, so no problems there either. Engineering is mostly Maquis,
but they have strong ties to Carey; if he tells them black is white,
they'll agree. I'm beginning to suspect, too, that something happened in
engineering with B'Elanna when she returned to the ship that last time.
Carey had that black eye, and only said it was an engineering accident but I
wonder. I really do.}
Sue pushed herself from her thoughts at Tom's voice.
"Yes, sir?"
He had a very slight smile on his face, and Sue remembered that smile from
what seemed like so long ago. That "I'm thinking of doing something really
crazy, care to join in?" smile that he had used on her more than once to
convince her to pursue such activities as rock-climbing, sky-diving, and Tae
Kwon Do on the Holodeck. She still did Tae Kwon Do with him once a week or
so, though careful not to bring this to B'Elanna's attention too much,
knowing the Chief Engineer's temper, and her possessiveness. {Well, not
possessiveness, but she knows Tom and I dated, and doesn't particularly
enjoy the idea of him spending too much time alone with me. To be honest,
if I were in her shoes, neither would I.}
"I need some help. Care to give me a hand?"
She put down the PADD, getting up from the Second Chair (as she referred to
the First Officer's seat) in barely disguised relief, and made her way to
tactical. That Chair, since the beginning, always seemed to be trying to
suck her in, drown her in its leather depths. She wondered if Tom felt that
way about the Big Chair. {Probably not. He was born to sit in one of
those. He looks so at ease in it, I'll bet it fits him perfectly.} It was
disheartening.
When she looked at what he had done to tactical, she blinked. Then she did
a double take.
"Like it?" He sounded a little smug. Her lips quivered in response.
"If I knew what you'd done, I'm sure I could compliment you on the
artistry."
Tom's muted laugh was the most natural she had heard since--well, since they
arrived at this godforsaken planet.
"I'm separating Tactical and Security temporarily. Each one will be
controlled by a different officer. Vorik will be all over Department Head
and hold Tactical, and Ayala will act as his second there and head of
Security."
"Why is the separation necessary?"
Tom gave her a long look, but she could see his mind was far away.
"If you can hold your curiosity until the meeting, I can tell you then. I
need to talk to the Doc first. Sam?"
Samantha, running diagnostics, looked up quickly. Flushed.
"Sir?"
"I want you to run continuous sensor sweeps of everything around us, at
increased and decreased sensitivity, randomly."
Samantha blinked.
"Sir?"
"Don't worry, I'm not going crazy, I'm being creative. If anyone comes near
the planet, they will, of course, be checking for ships. I don't want them
to find us, but I don't want them to escape our notice either because our
sensors alert them. Make it look like random wave patterns from the
nebula." Abruptly, he remembered her specialty wasn't Ops. Best not show
less than confidence. He left Susan at tactical and joined Sam at her
station.
Tom had done a little cross-training on Ops (it helped that his best friend
was head of the department) and Tom had learned several tricks from Harry.
Combined with his own rudimentary knowledge of procedure, he was able to set
his ideas on course. After he was finished, Tom gave her a PADD he had put
together before he came on shift.
"It's just some simple instructions on Ops so if you get confused, you have
a reference." He gave her his famous Paris smile, or the "parismile" as
some of the younger crewwomen called it. She smiled back, a little
tentatively, and Tom turned to the Bridge at large.
"If I'm needed, I'll be in Sickbay for the next hour. Lieutenant Nicoletti,
you have the Bridge." He disappeared into the turbolift.
Sue nodded in acknowledgement and went back to work.
--
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my website: www.geocities.com/seperis
"...it will be found that some things which seem virtues would, if followed,
lead to one's ruin, and some others which appear vices would result in one's
greater security and well-being."
Machiavelli (on virtue or lack thereof)
"The Prince"