Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [63]
“I I’m late, yes sir, and no sir, I don’t want to add more homework.”
“Then take your seat.” Kerrigan, all height and muscle and frosty blond hair, returned to her old-fashioned podium while Janeway stared aghast at the array of seats. Familiar faces stared back at her. Eddie Capshaw made his famous rubber face, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. She had always thought it terribly immature behavior for a nineteen-year-old cadet, and it seemed even more so seen from her true forty-something perspective.
Which seat was hers? She’d be in for a special project if she kept standing in the doorway like an idiot
“I’m a starship captain,” she said softly, to herself. But Eddie Capshaw had heard the murmured comment and gaped.
“What was that, cadet?” Kerrigan’s voice cut through her fog.
Fluffy. Where was the little animal? “Barkley. Fluffy,” she called, and the class erupted in laughter.
“Silence!” ordered Kerrigan. The cadets tried to comply, but couldn’t quite manage to completely eliminate a few stray snorts and snickers. “Cadet Janeway, take your seat. Now. And report to me after your classes today. I’ve got something special lined up for your detention.”
At that moment, with a snicking sound of claws on smooth flooring, Fluffy/Barkley skidded around a corner and rushed up to her. Dropping the bag of padds, she scooped the animal up and felt him lick her face. Even though she clasped him to a petite, nineteen-year-old body, the memories of the true years were emblazoned in her mind. Voyager. Chakotay. Tuvok. All the rest of her incredible crew. The journey they had undergone, the losses, the tragedies and victories that had kept them going. That was what was real, was true and important, not this false classroom.
She turned to face Kerrigan. “You’re a petty tyrant, Wendy Kerrigan. You were abusing your power for years before I got here and you’re still doing it even in my imagination.”
Kerrigan straightened to her full, imposing height of nearly six feet. “I hope you like civilian life, Janeway, because you’re about this far from getting yourself expelled.”
“I graduated with honors,” Janeway retorted, warming to the task.
“I have my own command, a crew that’s as loyal and true to the ideals of Starfleet as you are bitter and false to them. I don’t know why I haven’t acted earlier. I’m going to see to it that you’re fired. I’m going to tell them everything. The last thing impressionable young cadets need is someone like you beating all the life and enthusiasm out of them.”
“You may leave, Janeway.” Hate blazed in those eyes. Janeway lifted her chin and stared right back.
“I’ll leave, all right. But I’ll be back. You won’t.”
She turned and
stood at the front of the room. Twenty-six faces gazed up at her with rapt attention. Janeway smiled a little, then touched the holographic display unit.
“Who can tell me what this is?”
Twenty-six hands shot up. Janeway picked the shy little girl in the back. “Cadet Anson?”
“That’s a Borg cube,” the girl whispered, barely audible.
“Correct. And what is this?”
It was a loaded question. The image of Seven of Nine appeared, looking the way she had when she was still part of the collective. The bald head, the arrogant gaze, the fit body tightly swathed in black. More hands shot up.
“Cadet Garcia?”
“That’s a Borg,” he replied with confidence. “You’re right… and you’re not right. Can anyone tell my why Garcia’s identification is only partially correct?”
Now there were only a few hands. Janeway picked Cadet Bedony. “Yes, Cadet?”
“It’s a Borg, but it’s also your crew member Seven of Nine. Before you liberated her from the collective.”
Janeway smiled. “That’s right.” She touched another button and a holographic Seven of Nine, most of her humanity restored, stood beside the image of her former self. Janeway had to chuckle at the reaction of some of the male cadets, and one or two of the females. Seven of Nine was indeed a strikingly attractive woman. She was almost unrecognizable as the drone she had been. Even though these cadets