Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [43]
“As does Lieutenant Vorik,” Captain Itak added softly with a nod to his chief engineer.
“Lieutenant Benoit,” Commander Glenn said, offering her young chief an encouraging smile, “has had our Emergency Engineering Holograms running diagnostics and simulations for the past three days.”
“We’re going to need a strategy sooner rather than later, people,” Batiste barked.
“Understood, Admiral,” Eden said.
“What benamite reserve problem?” Seven interjected.
“Lieutenant Conlon?” Eden said, nodding for her to explain.
Clearing her throat lightly, Conlon said, “During our first sustained slipstream flight from the Deneva system to the terminus of the Beta and Delta quadrants, the benamite crystals used suffered unexpected microfractures. If we cannot correct the problem—”
“The fleet will be forced to return to the Alpha quadrant in three months rather than three years,” Seven finished for her.
“Yes,” Conlon agreed.
“We should begin long-range scans for alternate sources,” Seven suggested.
“Already done,” Conlon advised her.
Batiste turned to Eden and said, “Perhaps before we continue, Captain Eden, you should brief the others on the additions to Voyager’s personnel roster.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” she acknowledged politely. “I’m sorry to disappoint whomever had ‘Captain Chakotay has arrived to assume command of Voyager’ in the speculations pool,” she said lightly, “but as you can see,” she went on with a hint of a grin in response to Chakotay’s much wider smile, “Seven of Nine and Chakotay have joined the fleet. Seven was invited to participate in this mission before the fleet’s launch and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that her joining us is appreciated. Seven will be assigned to a special project in Voyager’s astrometrics division for the time being and will also serve as an advisor to the fleet. For those of you who have been fortunate enough to serve with her in the past, I’m certain that you greet this news, as I did, with great enthusiasm. Chakotay has chosen to resign his commission from Starfleet but will also accompany the fleet in an advisory role to Seven. On behalf of all of us, I welcome both of them aboard.”
This was met with polite applause, which reddened Seven’s fair cheeks.
“However, there is a further addition to Voyager’s crew. I must advise all of you that what I am about to say is considered classified. You will each be responsible for advising your crews to the sensitivity of the matter.”
Eden cleared her throat before continuing. “It was reported that Commander Tom Paris’s wife and child were killed during the Borg Invasion.” Eden then tapped her combadge and said, “Commander Paris, please report to the conference room.”
A collective gasp sounded as moments later, the doors behind Eden opened and Tom and B’Elanna entered.
Conlon watched as both Seven’s and Chakotay’s faces filled with mingled disbelief and joy.
“A sect of Klingons known as the Warriors of Gre’thor believe that Miral Paris is a fated savior of the Klingon people. She was abducted and nearly killed and since then, Commander Paris and B’Elanna have done what they could to make the Warriors of Gre’thor believe that Miral was dead. We welcome B’Elanna Torres and Miral Paris aboard Voyager. We do not anticipate encountering the Warriors, but I have assured the Paris family that if we do, we will not hesitate to defend them. In the interest of avoiding any such unpleasantness, for the duration of our mission they will be entered into the ship’s manifest under aliases.”
“Be sure and advise your crews that the first person who refers to them in official reports by anything other than their aliases will spend this entire journey scrubbing plasma conduits,” Admiral Batiste added. “Are we clear?”
There were nods all around. Paris and B’Elanna quickly took their seats beside Captain Eden. Glancing around the rest of the table, Conlon saw either polite curiosity or genuine happiness. For her part, Conlon felt no small amount of consternation. B’Elanna Torres was a legend among the engineers who had served with her. Living