Warning: This story contains very, very minor spoilers for "Fair Haven" and "Tsunkatse." Also a less than flatter portrayal of some of Voyager's personages.
Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager and its characters are the sole and exclusive property of Paramount Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended.
Feedback is always welcome!
by ragpants, February 2000
What is she blathering on about? Neelix's new stove and a routine check on the shield generators? What kind of idiot does she think I am? She lets Harry sit in the big seat with less fuss--and Harry's only an almost-still-green ensign. I've only seconded her command for six years now and run my own ship for two before that. I know my business. I know how to command a ship. Especially one in orbit around a shore leave planet.
God. She's finally gone. Did you see the look on her face when I kidded her about putting my feet up on desk? She couldn't believe that I could be so flippant about something she holds as next to holy. Well, she's gone and, dammit, I am going to sit in her damn chair put my feet up on her damn desk.
In her ready room, I slide into the chair and lean back with my fingers laced behind my head. No warning klaxons go off so it's safe, I guess, to ease my size 11's onto her prissily clean desktop. Hmm.. the chair's a bit...flimsy. Maybe I ought to get rid of it and replicate something more substantial. Something leather and masculine and branded with my butt print and leave it for her to find. But, I don't think she'd find it all that amusing.
The view is good from here. All those stars going by. But after 10 minutes, it all begins to look the same. And it is. We're in orbit. Safe. Secure. It's why she felt she could leave me in charge. After all, what could happen here?
Bored, so I start checking out the drawers on her desk. There are three. One of them is locked. I could force the flimsy lock easily enough, but that's would be too like thieving. I investigate the other two instead. The first one is shallow. Not much interesting in here. Three styluses; two that don't work. A paintbrush with the end nibbled off. Two hairclips, leftover, no doubt, from before she cut her hair'; one has a broken clasp. A rubberband, which I stretch across my index finger and fire across the room. It plunks off the far wall and I make no move to retrieve it. A handful of computer crystals. I idly pick one and plug into the terminal. Ugh! Old personnel reviews. I drop it back into the drawer and choose another. A letter. To Admiral Paris. Explaining why she had to courtmarshall and demote his son. Only a little more interesting than the personnel reports and no more personally revealing. I put it back.
The bottom drawer is deeper. A couple of padds in here. The first holds several thousand gigaflops of astrophysical data. I click through the first dozen or so pages before my eyes start to glaze over. It's like reading a completely alien language--only an alien language would be more interesting. The second padd is loaded with Federation standard script---it at least looks readable. I thumb the screen on. It opens where she left of reading. A Regency novel. Dull stuff, Kathryn. Dull. Couldn't you have a more vital taste in reading material.
A Tarkellian cryptomystery? A fictionalized biography of Yethrin the Grand? Even a bodice ripper, for god's sake, would be more riveting than what's here.
What else? Some holoprogram rods. None are labelled. I insert the first into the terminal slot. A standard Velocity court. The next one is Flotter and Trevis! I'm surprised at you, Kathryn. Are you sentimental? Or does this one belong to Naomi and you're keeping it safe for her until she realizes she lost it? No matter. I put it back. The next four are routine holosims. Favorite shoreleaves, pictures of home. I don't what I'm looking for, rooting through your desk. A holoprogram of New Earth, perhaps. Do you have one, Kathryn. Do you remember? Another program rod. I slip it in. Green and leafy countryside--but it's Fair Haven, not New Earth. So you didn't take it with you. Left your holo-lover home, did you? You know the old saying: All's fair in love and war. I'm not sure which it is between us anymore, Kathryn, love or war, but you've left me an opportunity I can't pass up. B'Elanna tells me that you're locked yourself out of Michael's subroutine so you can't diddle his parameters anymore. It doesn't mean I can't…
"Computer, open program file Michael, and make the following changes: increase beard growth by 60%; increase weight by 10 kilos; delete all post secondary education; effect permanent impotence. Close file and write."
Back into the drawer with it. Back where I found it. I have real work to do. There's tsunkatse match I want to see. I need to tell B'Elanna she's got Bridge duty to stand so I can go.
The End