TITLE: Verisimilitude
AUTHOR: Brenda Shaffer-Shiring
PART: 1/1
RATING: PG-13
CODES: J, c/7
EMAIL: shafshir@microconnect.net
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters and situations, but I doubt
they ever anticipated this particular use of same.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story features several rapid changes of scenery on
a holodeck, along with instantaneous costume changes.  Yes, I know
that on Voyager one wore one's costume into the holodeck.  However,
the holodeck in this story is on Earth, and it incorporates the
"costume-changing" technology that Picard used when he and Lily Sloane
entered the holodeck nightclub in "First Contact."
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:  This story was inspired by more netfics than I can
easily recall.  Thanks to Carol J. Grant and John Morales, for betaing
on *very* short notice.
SUMMARY:  Janeway runs various holodeck programs in an effort to learn
how to win Chakotay away from Seven.  The results aren't as she
anticipated.


Verisimilitude
by Brenda Shaffer-Shiring


verisimilitude:  n.  appearance of being true. (verisimilar, a.)
-- Tiscali Reference: Dictionary of Diifficult Words


Admiral Kathryn Janeway sat on one of the little stone benches in the
center of the Academy's rose garden.  From the bench opposite, a man
regarded her with aching sincerity.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn," Chakotay said earnestly, his soft brown eyes
shining.  "I know I promised to wait for you.  You can't imagine how
guilty I feel, betraying your trust for something that means as little
to me as my affair with Seven.  Please."  He leaned forward, lips
trembling as he took Janeway's hands in his.  "Give me a chance to
make it up to you.  You know it's you I've always loved."

Janeway looked at him for a moment, feeling strangely uncertain.  Her
aristocratic brow wrinkled and she called out, "Computer, freeze
program!"

Chakotay sat motionless, full lips slightly parted, pleading
expression frozen on his face.  Extricating her hands from his
unmoving ones, Janeway rose and began to pace on the simulated path. 
"Dammit," she said, "that just doesn't sound right.  That doesn't
sound like the way he'd say it at *all*."  She paced a little longer,
considering.  "Computer," she said suddenly, "do you have a current
psychological profile for Commander Chakotay?"

"Commander Chakotay's most recent psychological profile was compiled
twenty-seven days ago on starship Voyager, and received by Starfleet
Command ten days ago in general records transfer."

"Excellent.  Computer, reprogram holographic figure 'Chakotay' to
include the information contained in his psychological profile."  She
rubbed her hands together briskly.  "Now, let's take this from the
top.  Computer, restart program on my mark."  She stepped quickly to
the bench and took her place opposite Chakotay, her heart thrilling
with anticipation.  Why hadn't she thought of this earlier!  Now she
could get an authentic-sounding apology from her wayward XO.  And
later, she could use the upgraded holoimage to help her figure out how
to win him back from that treacherous ex-protégéé of hers. 
//Perfect!//

"Now," she said, and her first officer's face once more came alive. 
This time, however, a curious curve twisted the full lips, and his
brown eyes had no hint of moisture to them.

"You want an apology from me?" he said, low, tense.  "You want an
apology.  Well, all right, then."  He thrust himself to his feet,
snapping off a few quick steps before he turned and looked back at
her.  The spark in his eyes had intensified -- into a glare?  "I'm
sorry, Kathryn. I'm sorry I don't have the kind of superhuman patience
that it takes to wait for you to make up your mind to declare
yourself. I'm sorry that just because you never said a word of love to
me in seven years, I foolishly jumped to the conclusion that you
might, just possibly, not love me."  The sarcasm was soft but
unmistakable.  "And I'm oh-so-very-sorry that *having* jumped to that
conclusion, I was actually interested when a beautiful, vibrant,
intelligent woman asked me for a date.  And I'm sorry that--"

"Computer, freeze program!" Janeway snapped.  Chakotay stopped in
mid-pace, one foot frozen an inch above the floor.

That wasn't what she'd had in mind at *all.*

Not a setback, though, or at least Kathryn didn't think so.  Of course
Chakotay would have far too much pride to simply come to her out of
the blue and seek forgiveness for his foolish little liaison.  But
once he realized that the situation between the two of them really
*could* be changed, and that Kathryn was ready to make the change,
well then, things would be very different!

"Arch," she called, and programmed a new scenario.  "Display."  The
setting winked into existence around her.

The location for this scenario was her suite at Starfleet
headquarters.  The lights were soft and the table was set for dinner,
with the vegetable biryani he liked sitting ready to be served, and a
bottle of wine chilling in a silver bucket.  Candles in pewter
candelabrum, and a soft scent of jasmine in the air, added to the
ambiance.  As per the captain's request, the computer had garbed her
in a style that matched the setting: a long, flowing black gown with
delicate shoulder straps, a vee-neck, and a high Empire waist.

At her command, the arch disappeared and the new program commenced. 
When the door chime sounded, Kathryn's heart beat faster with
anticipation.  "Come," she called softly.

He entered briskly enough, but when he was no more than a couple of
steps in he stopped where he stood, surveying the situation.  "Very
nice," he said quietly, his expression unreadable.

"Chakotay," she began, "there's something I've been meaning to tell
you."  And Kathryn paused for a moment to collect herself, for even
though this was only his hologram, the words had been so long unspoken
they were difficult to formulate.

Then his eyes met hers, and her thoughts fled at the look she saw in
them: a hint of anger, coupled with a vast weariness.  "What do you
want this time, Kathryn?"

In her surprise, the only words that would come out of the captain's
mouth were, "What do you mean, what do I want?"

He snorted, the anger in his eyes becoming more apparent.  "Come on,
Kathryn.  You've played this game with me before, seducing me over to
your side.  The last time you went to this much trouble, you wanted to
make me back off from my objections to the quantum slipstream drive so
I wouldn't keep you from trying to use it to get us back to Alpha. 
You got what you wanted then, didn't you?  I backed off.  We made the
test."  His voice never rose, but his enunciation was crisp and
precise, the edges of the words all but bitten off.  "And if we hadn't
been damned lucky, our crew would have died because I backed off then. 
So this time, just tell me what you want and spare me the
song-and-dance, please.  Does Starfleet Command need something else
from me?"

"Chakotay, I'm not playing a game!" she flared, stung at the truth in
his accusation.  "You idiot!  I'm trying to tell you that I love you!"

He looked at her in simple disbelief.  "Very funny, Kathryn."

"Computer, freeze program!"  And once again the holodeck complied,
this time catching Chakotay in the very act of turning away.

Controlling her anger, she walked around the hologram then, peering up
at the blank brown eyes as if by so doing she could see into the soul
of their real-life owner.  But the holographic eyes had no light or
thought behind them, and she soon gave up the attempt.  She looked
away, considering.

Okay, so a direct confrontation wouldn't do the trick.  Once burned,
forever cynical, it seemed.  But perhaps if he were to learn about her
feelings from someone he trusted?

She could think of one obvious candidate for the task: Chakotay's best
friend, B'Elanna Torres.  Calling for the arch, Janeway tapped in
another series of commands.

"Query," said the computer.  "Do you wish to incorporate B'Elanna
Torres's most recent psychological profile into the desired scenario?"

"Of course," Janeway said impatiently.  She had to make this as real
as possible if it were to give her any real clues as to how to regain
her erstwhile love.

"Incorporating profile," the computer answered neutrally.

The arch once again vanished as Janeway activated her latest program. 
The setting this time was still her quarters, but the table was bare
of food and the lights were most decidedly up.  The admiral's garments
had changed as well, into a short-sleeved white blouse tucked into the
waistband of trim, fitted slacks.  Torres, dressed in similar style,
was seated on one of the low, soft chairs, but she quickly pushed
herself to her feet, as if uncomfortable there.  "Admiral, I'm not
sure what you want me here for."

Janeway knew that only directness would work with B'Elanna Torres.  "I
want you to plead my case for me, B'Elanna."  She stepped closer,
hoping the other woman would read the sincerity in her eyes.  "I want
you to tell Chakotay I love him."

Torres's eyes widened.  "Captain?  Ah, I mean, Admiral?"

"Tell him I love him, B'Elanna."  She took B'Elanna's forearms in her
hands, holding the other woman in place before her.  "Tell him I
understand he might have been willing to settle for someone else when
we couldn't get together, but now things have changed. I know he'd
believe it if he heard it from you, B'Elanna."  Torres looked uneasy,
and Janeway wondered if she, like Chakotay, entertained doubts of her
former commander's sincerity.  "What can I say to convince you?"

Torres's face contorted into a scowl, and she yanked free of Janeway's
grip.  "Nothing," she snarled.  "There's nothing you can say to
convince me.  When I think of all the years he waited for you, all the
time he wasted--" She uttered something harsh and Klingon.  "Do you
even have any *idea* how much you hurt him?  And now that he's finally
got something good going for him, something that makes him happy, you
want *me* to help you break it up?  I don't *think* so." Before the
astonished admiral could say a word, her enraged former engineer
stalked from the room, nearly barreling through the door before it had
an opportunity to open.

Staring at Torres's wake, Janeway was silent for a few moments before
she blew out a breath.  "What was *that* about?"  After all these
years, did Torres really think so little of her?  What the hell?

Clearly Kathryn would be better off getting help from another source. 
Once again calling up the arch, she input her new request.

"Do you wish to incorporate Q's most recent psychological profile into
the desired scenario?" the computer intoned.

The question surprised Janeway even more than holo-Torres's behavior. 
"We have a psychological profile on Q?"

"Profile compiled based on all known encounters of Starfleet personnel
with the designated being," the disembodied voice informed her primly.

"Oh."  She gestured impatiently. "Fine then.  Incorporate it and run
program."

She hadn't bothered changing the physical setting; if she ever saw Q
again, it was just as likely to be in her quarters as anywhere else. 
Q popped in with his usual brilliant burst of light, clad in an
admiral's uniform that matched her own.

Before she could say a word, he waggled a finger at her.  "Now really,
Kathy.  Calling me in to help you manage something as trivial as a
human relationship?  Honestly, you mortals have *no* sense of
proportion."  With a flick of his wrist and another flare of white
light, he was gone.

Oh, this was really too much.  Starfleet's newest admiral did *not*
take well to being dissed and dismissed this way.  Bad enough Chakotay
was mistrustful -- bad enough Torres was as temperamental as ever --
but to have to put up with yet more disrespect from Q?  To win back a
man who had been hers all along?  She wouldn't have to deal with this
sort of crap even on a holodeck, much less in real life, if it hadn't
been for a certain "tertiary adjunct" getting ideas.  Ungrateful chit. 
Janeway had given Seven back her humanity, given her a home and a goal
and a place in society, and this was how the ex-Borg repaid her?

Fuck the rest of it.  Kathryn was going to call the interloper to
account.  And then....

Calling up the arch, she began inputting again, quickly and furiously.

The computer inquired, "Do you wish to incorporate Seven of Nine's
most recent psychological profile into the desired scenario?"

Janeway glowered.  "Yes."

The room around her metamorphosed into a bleak darkness, split by a
single shaft of light.  The stark glare revealed a tall, blonde woman,
wrapped in the translucent glow of a force field.  Kathryn's own garb
had mutated into top-to-toe black, from knee-high boots to a leotard
that hugged as close as any of Seven's catsuits, to dark leather
gloves.

Hands on hips, she leaned forward, glaring at the trapped Borg.  "How
dare you!  After everything I gave you, everything I *made* you, how
dare you strut in and take my man?"

"The commander is not your property."  Seven's posture was regal, her
eyes ice.

The cold response only served to further infuriate her interrogator. 
"He belonged to me, damn you!  All these years, we had an
understanding."

"An understanding the commander seemed not to share."  Her entrapment
apparently had done nothing to disconcert Seven; she stood at her
full, formidable height, meeting Kathryn's glare without noticeable
agitation or effort.

"He shared it just *fine* until you threw yourself at him."  She
stalked around the cylindrical force field, a huntress circling her
prey.

"You are incorrect in several respects."  For all the emotion in her
voice, Seven might have been lecturing Voyager's Borg children on
various aspects of astrometrics.  "The commander was quite
discontented with what he considered to be his 'lack of relationship'
with you.  He made no formal statement of his discontent simply
because he believed himself to be without other viable options.  Once
he realized that he did, indeed, have other options available, and
determined that he found one of those options to be attractive, he
moved quickly to secure it."

Kathryn stopped when she stood before Seven, fastening her most
powerful "death glare" on the pale, metal-adorned face. "You mean, he
moved on when you stole him."

"He was your officer, not your property."  Seven remained visibly
unmoved.  "Or are you the Borg Queen, to claim ownership as well as
service?"

Oh, *that* was too much.  Kathryn snapped, "Computer, transform to
alternate scenario on my mark!  Now!"

With that, the holodeck contorted itself from a dark place to a dank
one, filled with instruments as bizarre as they were arcane.  In the
midst of the perverted playroom, Seven of Nine was suspended from the
ceiling, long arms over her head and model's legs spread wide, ropes
securing them to clamps on the floor.  Around her, within easy sight,
lay half-a-dozen instruments of pain and violation.

"I'm going to punish you if it's the last thing I ever do."  Kathryn
picked up a heavy paddle then, and advanced on Seven, debating whether
she should aim for the obvious target or go for a location that would
bring greater pain.  Further enraged by her quarry's defiant glare,
she lifted the paddle high --

And a voice roared, "Stop!  Let her go!"

Kathryn turned and saw Chakotay in the glare of an open doorway, his
broad shoulders backlit by the light of an illusory corridor.  "Have
you lost your mind!  I said, let her *go*!"

As the admiral stood staring, in shock, he stalked up and snatched the
paddle from her hand, hurling it across the room.  Then he moved to
Seven, yanking loose the knots that bound her hands and feet before
wrapping one arm around her and gathering her to his side.

His eyes blazed fury at Kathryn.  "Damn you.  I knew you were jealous,
but I never believed you would do anything like this!  Well, no more. 
Once the Admiralty hears how you were abusing a Federation citizen,
they'll--"

"Computer!" Kathryn cried wildly, "end simulation!"

Chamber, Seven, and Chakotay all vanished at once, leaving Admiral
Kathryn Janeway alone and panting in an empty box of black-and-yellow
grids.

Of course.  Of course a realistic Chakotay wouldn't let anyone take
his lover off anywhere and harm her.

His lover.

A realistic Chakotay considered Seven his love.

A realistic Torres said he was happy with Seven.

A realistic Q -- well, never mind that.

A realistic Seven said Kathryn had made Chakotay unhappy; the same
Seven had been willing to defy Kathryn on his behalf.

A realistic Kathryn, then, had no choice but to conclude she wasn't
going to win this one.

Well, to hell with him then.

"Computer," she said finally, "Delete previous series of programs. 
Run standard holoprogram Risa 1.  Incorporate whoever the latest human
holoporn star is so that I can interact with him or her."

"The human holoporn star currently receiving the highest user ratings
is Dirk Masters," the computer noted blandly.  "Is this acceptable?"

She had no idea who this "Dirk Masters" was, but if he was human he
would do.  "That's fine."

"Do you wish to incorporate Dirk Masters' most recent psychological
profile?"

Kathryn didn't even have to think about it.  "No," she answered
shortly.  "Just program him to be horny as hell and attracted to me."

She'd had enough verisimilitude for a while.

END