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?