Fate Needs a Push

Part 9 - Exceeding Expectations

	*Randie's Personal Log, stardate, oh, geez, I don't even know.  I
still haven't gotten the hang of this universal time standard thing.
I've been here for a month and a half almost and I still haven't
accomplished anything.  Tom is a great guy, he and I hang out a lot and
he's always fascinated by the cultural stuff I tell him about, but
sometimes I even get sick of talking about TV and movies and dance
music and clothes and stuff.  I haven't had an intelligent conversation
since I've been here.  I feel like I'm just the dumb 20th century kid
to everyone.*

	Randie paused for a moment to adjust the volume of Handel's "Messiah"
which was nearly drowning out her voice.  She had just turned on the
music, and the cadences of the introduction floated Randie back to her
days of classical voice training, literature, philosophy, her friends
at school, and Maggie.  Satisfied with the noise level, Randie resumed
her log.

	*Seven's been coming around more also.  I've been trying to teach her
everything I know about the 1990s so she can replace me in USA 20 when
I leave.  In the three weeks since I apologized for the Village
incident, I've learned a lot about her.  She's much more mature than
Janeway gives her credit for.  Speaking of which, Janeway still hasn't
said a kind word to me since the little argument.  I'll have to fix
that.  But I don't know how.  I've never seen anyone hold a grudge so
fiercely, and I've known some pretty vicious people in my life.  Oh,
well.  The rest of USA 20 and I are going back to the club tonight.  We
would have gone last week but Tom and B'Elanna were having problems . .
. I don't even want to get into that.  I'm almost off the nicotine and
I've lost 15 pounds since I've been here; he was right, this trip would
do me some good.  Now it's time to relax for a while and be myself by
myself.*

	The idea for Randie to begin keeping a log was actually Seven's, which
surprised Tom when she told him about it.  This was only Randie's third
log, and she still treated it like a voice diary rather than an
official document.  Seven had made the suggestion as a way for Randie
to organize her thoughts, but Randie found rambling much more
productive for her own personal style.  Seven didn't understand the
concept of ramblings, but being the live and let live person she was,
she decided to leave Randie to her own methods.

	The tenor tones of "Comfort Ye" wafted through the air in Randie's
quarters, and Randie felt completely at peace and at home.  Lying on
the coffee table were a copy of "Leaves of Grass" and "Catcher in the
Rye."  No one had ever been inside of Randie's quarters; she kept it
that way on purpose, because she didn't want to disappoint anyone.  If
they knew who I really was, she thought, they'd probably lose interest
in me, because I'd be just like everyone else on this ship, smart,
upstanding, and boring as hell.  But I'm not boring!  Just because I'm
smart doesn't mean I don't like to have fun.  I just need brain food
every now and then.  Randie stopped her thinking for a moment.  Seven's
not boring, Tom's not boring either, and I'm sure underneath that
stuffed shirt Janeway's a party girl.  Everyone likes the club, at
least, everyone who's anyone.  Then Randie remembered.  Oh, man, I've
got to check out that Fair Haven place.  Find out who that Sullivan guy
is, the one Seven keeps talking about.  Ugh, I'll bet he's ugly.

	"Comfort Ye" ended and the introduction to "Every Valley" resounded
through the room.  Randie jumped off of the bed.  "Computer, pause the
music, take away the vocals for this particular piece, and resume."
The computer did as it was ordered, and as the music swelled to the
vocal entrance, Randie stood up straight and tall, took a deep breath
to extend her diaphragm, raised her soft palate, and exploded with a
strong and sturdy operatic soprano voice:

"Ev'ry valley . . .
Ev'ry valley shall be exhaulted,
Shall be exau . . . auauau . . . auauau . . . auauau . . . auauau . . .
auauau . . . auauauauauaulted!
Shall be exauauaulted . . . "

	Meanwhile, the Doctor had just left sickbay to check up on Randie.  He
thought it odd that she didn't show up this morning for her shot.  In
the last few weeks the Doctor had come to learn about the Village
incident, Randie's argument with Captain Janeway, the problems between
Tom and B'Elanna (which were still a mystery to Randie), and the
popularity of the new program, which he himself had the opportunity to
try.  He found it absolutely intriguing and told Randie so when he saw
her the morning after he had gone.  He had said that it was an unusual
but fun lesson in human behavior.  Randie had thanked him for what she
guessed was supposed to be a compliment.

	Leaving the turbolift and proceeding down the corridor towards
Randie's quarters, the Doctor noticed something strange.  He heard
noises coming from down the hallway, and as he neared Randie's door he
realized that the noises were music.  "Is . . . is that Handel's
'Messiah'?" he muttered to himself as he lingered outside of Randie's
door.  He could hear the voice singing inside, and just as it reached
the finale, when Randie hit the highest note, the Doctor opened the
door and Randie almost choked on her own voice.  "Agh!  Wha . . . what
are you d-doing here?" she said in a high trilled voice.

	The Doctor was grinning from ear to ear.  "You sing!" he yelled, and
walked across the room to embrace Randie, overcome by his feelings of
joy knowing there was someone else on the ship who could appreciate his
gift.

	With her face smashed against the Doc's chest, Randie growled,
"Doesn't everybody?"

	The Doc let go, smiling and excited.  "I'm sorry, but I'm just so
happy that a hologram and an ex-borg are no longer the only ones on
this ship who appreciate the art."  The Doctor stepped back and looked
around.  The gaudy clothes and pink fuzzy accessories he almost
expected, but he saw books, sheet music on her monitor, padds scattered
all over her desk containing writings of her own and others.  He looked
at Randie in disbelief.  "You're cultured."

	"I'm not some poor punk kid from off the street, you know.  I did come
from a nice middle-class family.  I did attend prep school and I am, or
I was, going to a private university.  I am an English major.  I'm not
stupid."

	"I never said that you were," the Doctor replied, looking around
semi-confused, semi-happy.  "I just, well, I never expected you to be
so . . . above average."

	"I was afraid to disappoint everyone."  Randie sat down in a chair.
"Ever since I've gotten here, I've been 'that girl from the 20th
century' or 'that girl from the 1990s.' I'm not just a time period; I
am a human being with my own intelligent personality.  But people
expected me to be merely a product of my time, so I gave them what they
wanted."  Randie sighed a depressed little sigh.  "I feel like no one
really cares about me as an individual.  I'm just a novelty.  A walking
history book.  It's never, 'tell us about yourself, Randie.'  It's
always, 'tell us about what it was like in the 1990s, Randie.'"

	The Doctor sat down on the sofa.  "I can sort of understand what you
mean, being a hologram.  It's like, you're never completely human.
There's always that barrier, which for you is a time difference, and
for me it's the fact that I'm light and force fields instead of flesh
and blood."  He seemed to perk up, and he patted Randie on the knee
with a smile.  "Well, if you ever need anyone with whom you can just be
yourself, you know where to find me."

	Randie smiled up at him.  "Thanks Doc," she said.

	The Doctor stood up and Randie stood up to show him out, but just as
they were walking towards the door, the red alert klaxon began to
sound.  "Oh, no," the Doc said.

	Randie was clinging to his arm.  The ship shook around them.  "What
does this mean?" she asked him.

	"I think we're under attack," replied the Doc in a worried voice.
"Come on, you'll be safer in sickbay," he said, and together they
headed down the corridor towards the turbolift.  The door wouldn't
open.  "Damn," yelled the Doctor, and grabbed Randie's arm.  "We need
to get to the Jeffries Tubes."  They headed off down the corridor once
again with pieces of the ship falling around them.

**********

	We are the Sons of Za'kor.  Surrender your vessel and prepare to be
boarded.  If you choose to surrender, you and your crew will not be
harmed.

	"Turn that damn thing off!" Janeway screamed above the klaxons and the
commotion.  The message had been playing continuously over their audio
frequencies ever since the ambush began.

	"Their weapons have penetrated our shields," Tuvok announced in the
monotone that suited him for any situation.  "I am detecting hull
breaches on decks five through eight.  They have not yet targeted
engineering.  It is clear that they do not wish us destroyed, only
crippled."

	"What do you suggest, Mr. Tuvok?" Chakotay yelled at him.

	"We cannot possibly out-gun them, for their shields are much too
strong.  I know you will not take well to this solution, Captain, but
if they are true to their word, the logical choice would be to
surrender.  If we are still alive, we still have a chance to re-take
the ship, but if we choose to resist any longer, they may continue to
fire until we are destroyed."

	The Captain turned to her left.  "Chakotay?"

	"I'm with Tuvok, Captain.  The longer we stay alive, the longer we
have to take back our ship!"

	"Very well.  Mr. Kim, signal our surrender!"

	There was an explosion on the bridge as the aliens began to beam
aboard.  In all of the confusion, no one noticed as Tom, Harry, and
Seven slipped into the nearest Jeffries Tube.

**********

	"How many of us are there?" Tom asked as the motley group huddled
inside of the tube.

	"Ten," Harry said, "Including the Doctor.  Everyone else is in the
brig."

	"How many aliens are on the ship?" Randie asked.

	"Forty.  Most of them are concentrated on the bridge and in
engineering, with about four or five left to stand guard in the brig."

	"If we could bust everyone else out, we could take these guys out,"
Randie said.

	"We would first need to be able to move freely about the ship so that
we could access the brig," Seven stated.  "The guards will most likely
fire at the first sign of suspicious activity, so we must take them by
surprise.  Even so, the intruders have managed to lock out all of the
essential controls."

	Randie sat thinking for a moment.  "Can we get to holodeck two through
these tubes without being detected by the aliens?" she asked
thoughtfully.

	A young male ensign pulled out his tricorder and began to scan the
tunnel.  "If we manage to circumvent engineering, yes."

	"There's another problem though," Harry said.  "I'm assuming that the
ship that staged the attack is probably still escorting Voyager back to
their territory.  Even if we take Voyager back, we can't win against
their weapons."

	"Harry," Tom said, putting a confident hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure
you and Seven can have that problem worked out by the time we free the
crew."

	Harry smiled half-heartedly.  "Whatever you say, Tom."

	The young ensign who had scanned the area led the way through the
tunnels.  "You're going to have to take off your jumpsuits," Randie
whispered.

	"What for?" Tom asked.

	"So no one will recognize you as officers.  Once we all get into the
holodeck, try to blend in and not look obvious.  I'm sure that once
those guys on the bridge see that someone has turned the holodeck on,
they'll send a few of their boys down to check it out.  Just stay off
of the dance floor."

	"The what?" an older science officer asked.

	"Just get those uniforms off, and stick your communicators in a
non-descript place." Randie ordered.  She was starting to like this
little power trip.

**********

	The Village was booming like never before.  Tom and the others spread
out around the bars, avoiding the dance floor like Randie had told
them.  Five of them were armed with phasers set to stun.  Randie
refused to use one.  "I won't need it," she had told the Doctor.

	Randie was busy climbing up the catwalks towards the ceiling, where
the complex lighting scaffold was hanging.  Randie had programmed this
particular program to only listen to her voice commands.  No one else
could change the Village but her, which made her the crew's only hope
at this point.

	"Computer, shut down the safety protocols."

	A small klaxon sounded.  "Warning, shutting down safety protocols . .
."

	"Just do it, god damn it!"

	"Safety protocols are off-line."

	Wiping the sweat off of her brow, Randie grabbed a hold of the
scaffolding and climbed her way around towards the first corner of the
menacing metal square.  She unhooked the first cable supporting the
frame.  Feeling the scaffold shake beneath her, she slowly made her way
around towards the third corner, leaving the other two opposite corners
to support the square of lights.  As she crawled around back towards
the corner she mounted on, which was still hooked up, she nodded
towards the Doctor, who was standing by on the ground floor.
"Computer, prepare to remove the remaining cables on my mark," Randie
called.

	Sure enough, about six aliens bustled onto the holodeck as Randie was
climbing back onto the ladder.  When she was sure there were no more of
them, she called "Computer, seal the holodeck doors."  The Computer
obliged.  The aliens, obviously confused, headed for the dance floor.
Randie was gripping onto the ladder.  "Mark."

	The crash was loud but it simply sounded like another part of the
music, given the noise level.  Randie climbed down as fast as she
could.  "Computer, remove all of the characters."  With a soft hiss,
the only people remaining on the holodeck were Randie, Tom, the Doctor,
and the other five crewmembers.  All of the aliens had been trapped
under the metal scaffold, which acted like a huge net, trapping the
aliens underneath.  The rest of the crew worked to get the scaffolding
off, and once they had accomplished that, Tom grabbed the first alien
that was regaining consciousness.  As the others were moaning and
groaning and standing, Tom held the alien in front of him and yelled,
"Don't move, or your friend here gets phasered."

	Randie made it to the floor, and she walked around over next to Tom.
"Drop all of your weapons and slide them here."  When the aliens had
done this, Randie asked, "Which one of you is the highest officer
here?"  The alien in Tom's death grip raised his hand.  "Perfect," she
said.  "You will take us to the brig and you will pretend like you are
the ones who have taken us prisoner, but don't you dare forget for a
moment that it's the other way around."

	"Computer, open doors and end program," Randie called behind her as
she and the party headed out into the corridor, and it truly seemed as
if the aliens had taken the crewmembers prisoner.

	Tom leaned over and whispered to Randie, "You were creeping me out in
there.  When you were ordering those aliens around, I swear you sounded
almost just like the Captain."

	Randie smiled.  "Wow, you really think so?" but the conversation had
to end there, because they had arrived at the brig.

	"We have brought these prisoners," the aliens said of the crewmembers
when they had arrived at the brig.

	"Very good," one of the other aliens hissed.  He turned to one of his
comrades to his left and signaled for him to open the force field
containing about twenty more of Voyager's crew.  But just as the alien
opened the force field, Randie yelled, "Run!" and the rescuers began
firing on the aliens guarding the brig, using the aliens they had
walked in with as shields.  The crewmembers that had been in that
particular unit ran out of the brig for safety, stopping at a nearby
weapons locker to pick up phasers and phaser rifles.  "Get to
engineering!  We can take the ship from there!" Tom yelled to the
fleeing crewmembers in the midst of the phaser fire confusion.

	Once the brig was secure, the male ensign that had led them to the
holodeck earlier worked on breaking the encryption code the aliens had
put in place so that they could free the rest of the crew.  "Damn," he
muttered as he wiped his brow.  "I could sure use Seven of Nine in a
bind like this."

	Randie, who was keeping watch with Tom at the entrance of the brig,
responded, "She's got bigger problems to fix right now."

	Finally, the young man managed to free the other crewmembers.
B'Elanna and Chakotay remained in one of the cells with Janeway, who
was unconscious and stretched out on the cell bed.  The Doctor rushed
in immediately.  "She was injured when the aliens began to board the
ship."  Then Chakotay smiled.  "I knew the rest of you would figure out
a way to get us out of here."

	"How did you know we were loose on the ship?" Randie asked.

	B'Elanna looked at Randie and then at Tom.  "I think I would notice
when certain people are missing."

	"And how didn't they know we were loose?" Tom asked B'Elanna.

	"In spite of their advanced shielding and weapons technology, this
race seems virtually inept at everything else.  Apparently, they
capture ships and use their technology for their own purposes, but from
what I could learn, they strip the ships they capture of shields and
weapons and regard everything else as junk."  B'Elanna looked worriedly
at the Captain and the Doctor.  "Is she going to make it?"

	"I think so," the Doctor replied, putting away his tricorder, "But I
need to get her to sickbay.  She'll have to be carried though; we can't
use site to site transportation from the brig."

	"Seven, are you getting all of this?  Did you hear what B'Elanna said
about the aliens?" Tom asked into his communicator.

	"Affirmative.  I believe we may be able to use that information to our
advantage," the tinny voice responded over the Comm system.

	"I'll have Tuvok meet you in Astrometrics.  Meanwhile, the Captain
needs to get to sickbay and the rest of us need to get to the bridge."
Tom and Randie walked side by side as B'Elanna detoured to engineering
and Chakotay helped the Captain to sickbay.  "Okay, Randie, since you
seem to have all of the bright ideas, we've gotten this far.  Now, how
do we get rid of the other ship?"

	"Well," Randie said, "If what B'Elanna says is true, then we can
assume that due to their poor scanning equipment and communications
devices, the other ship probably has no idea that we've staged a coup.
As long as the other ship never finds out, then we have a better chance
of being able to get the jump on them like we did on these guys."

	Tom looked surprisedly at Randie.  "You seem different somehow than
your usual self."

	Randie smiled.  "I work best under pressure.  At least, that's what my
friends tell me.  And I take pride in being resourceful.  Hell, If I'm
stuck here forever, maybe I'll enlist in your Starfleet if we ever get
back to Earth."

**********

	"You shouldn't have been so dumb to think that a handful of you could
take this ship from us."  Randie stood in front of the commanding alien
with a phaser pointed in his face.  The crew had secured the ship and
now the only problem that still remained was how to get rid of the
other ship.

	The alien tried to look menacing, but Randie could tell that he was
half scared out of his wits.  He held up a small device.  "I'm warning
you, if you try to interfere, one press of this button, and our escort
will destroy this ship without a second thought."

	"Unlikely," Randie stated, and shot the device cleanly from the
alien's hand.

	Tom was dumbfounded.  "Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

	"Nintendo," Randie stated, and then blushed a little.  "I've played
too many video games."  Randie then assumed her former commanding
poise.  "Tom, take these prisoners to the brig.  The rest of you, stay
here and don't give any indication to the other ship that anything's
gone wrong.  I'll give you the signal when we can warp it out of here."

	"Where's Commander Chakotay and Commander Tuvok?" one of the crewmen
asked.

	"Busy," Randie said, "And I know I'm just a stupid civilian from
centuries past, but if you know what's good for you, you'll do as I say
or that thing over there will blow us sky high.  Does anyone in here
want to take that risk?"  Meeting no opposition, partly because they
knew she was right and partly because she really did sound much like
the Captain when she was giving orders, Randie nodded.  "That's what I
thought," she said, and headed to Astrometrics.

	Once the doors opened to Astrometrics, Randie was a little taken
aback.  "Whoa, this is like Imax," she declared as she set her phaser
on a nearby table and walked over to join the others.  "What's going
on?"

	Seven spoke to Randie without turning away from the console.  "We have
been able to determine that we would not be able to penetrate their
shields once they were aware that we were powering our weapons."

	"So we obviously can't blow them up from the outside," Randie said
thoughtfully.

	"That leaves us with one alternative," Tuvok stated.  "We must
discover a way to 'blow them up,' as Miranda so colorfully stated, from
the inside."

	"Are their shields up now?" Randie asked.

	"Not at present.  They are apparently unaware that we have regained
control of the ship," Tuvok said.

	"How easy is a transporter beam to detect?"  When Randie noticed that
Seven was staring at her, she stepped back.  "What?  Isn't that the
easiest way to get something from one place to another around here?  If
their shields are down, couldn't we transport something over there?"

	"A photon torpedo," Seven stated, "Programmed to detonate by our
remote signal.  But how would we prevent them from detecting our
transporter?"

	"Well," Randie said, "Their detection equipment is already crappy,
maybe we could make it look like something else on their scanners."
Again, Seven was staring at Randie.  "Why do you keep looking at me
like that, Seven?"

	"Because I find it astonishing that you are capable of possessing such
problem solving skills.  Where in the 20th century could you learn such
a thing?"

	"I got really good grades in my logic and reasoning class in high
school, even though I hate math.  Math's too many details.  That's why
I'm leaving those to you and I'm heading over to check on the Captain."
 Randie patted Seven and Tuvok on the shoulders.  "Good work, guys."

	Even with Seven being an ex-borg and Tuvok being a Vulcan, there was
no mistaking the look of astonishment in their eyes as Randie left the
Astrometrics lab.  "Fascinating," Tuvok muttered, raising an eyebrow.

**********

	 * . . . And after I left sickbay, we put our plan into action, and
came out victorious.  Well, obviously, or I wouldn't be making this log
entry.  At the little celebration last night, the Captain said she
would give me a commendation if I was an officer, but instead she gave
me a plaque for original thinking and saving the ship.  So I guess I'm
kind of a hero.  At least I won her respect back.  She invited me over
to dinner again tonight, but I had to tell her that I had other plans.*

	"We're gonna be late," Tom called from the other room, where he and
the rest of USA 20 were waiting to head out to the village.  It was the
next evening, and once again, they were all dressed to kill.

	*I'm heading out to the Village tonight.  We were supposed to go last
night, but I'm sure you can tell why we couldn't.  I invited Seven to
come along with us, but I'm not sure if she's quite gotten over the
incident yet.  I don't think she'll come.  She will though, one of
these days.  I just know it.*

	"Okay, okay, I'm done," Randie said, putting on her sweater.  Now that
she had lost some weight, she took more liberties with her clothing,
like wearing metallic mini-shirts with shiny hot pants and platform
boots, all baby blue.  Just as she entered the room, there was a chime
on the door.  Everyone looked at each other, mystified.  "Come in,"
Randie called nervously.

	What stood in the doorway was quite a sight.  Randie and the others
worked their way up with their eyes, starting with the glittery pink
platform sandals, scanning upwards past the plastic pink prismatic
flare pants, up past the white baby tee with the words "Baby Doll"
printed in glittery pink on the front and surrounded by yellow daisies,
up to the sweet face with the blonde pigtails and the metallic eyebrow.
 "Seven?!?" they all asked at the same time, dumbfounded.

	"Yes, I have decided to join you, if you don't mind."

	"N-no, of course we don't mind!" Randie was half-nervous and
half-excited.  "You look fabulous, Seven."

	"I am glad you think so.  And for tonight," Seven added, "You may call
me Nikki."

To Be Continued?