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!
Shore Leave
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