Paramount, et. al. have had them for years. We've all been had, actually.

 

Title: Politically Correct
Author: Turtlewoman
Rating:pg 13 (she said a bad word), KJ and assorted others
Date: Nov. 30, 2000

Summary: I'm an American. What can I say, Nov. 2000 was a crazy month.

     
     
        Kathryn Janeway paced the length of the long table. Her command crew sat around it in equal distress. Even the unflappable Tuvok looked as if he had been chewing on unprocessed leola root.
     
        She spat out her remarks at the holoprojection of the Admiral hovering over the center of the table. "I don't believe this! We've been cooling our heels in orbit for months! It's been two years since we've presented our case, six months since this went to the council and two months since the referendums were voted on. You are the one that convinced us to apply for a public vote. The quadrillions and quadrillions of life forms in the Federation stand a better chance of dismissing all charges than a military tribunal, you said."
     
        The image of Admiral Paris blanched and wavered as the diminutive fury continued to vent her frustration. Lieutenant Paris watched in fascination. He had never seen his father to be anything but rock solid imposing, confident and forthright in his opinions. The words that had been coming out of his father's very nervous mouth today were nothing more than political pabulum that could have meant anything.
     
        "So, in essence, Admiral," she cut in, "You are telling me, that with quadrillions and quadrillions of life forms voting, this is too close to call!?"
     
        "Rather simplistically stated Kathryn, but essentially that is correct,." Admiral Paris replied.
     
        Tom watched as his father visibly flinched as the Captain said, "And…?"
     
        "Uh…mm…"
     
        "Stop waffling,….. Owen. Drop the other shoe, dammit!"
     
        He was startled into snapping to attention, "They've asked for a recount."
     
        "What!?"
     
        "A recount."
     
        "Of …..?"
     
        "Of all of them, Kathryn."
     
        "That's it! Now listen here, Admiral. This is the finest crew I have ever served with, bar none, even yours and they have courage beyond measuring. We've taken chances you've never even dreamed of. There have been times when we've become allies with the Borg and trusted aliens from another dimension. These people have followed me always and I've led them on some pretty scary rides. And as much as even Mr. Tuvok occasionally finds me reckless, I am not so reckless that I would throw this ship and this crew to the mercy of politicians!"
     
        She swept her hand across her throat and Ensign Kim cut the transmission. Tom watched his totally rattled father slowly decompose into shifting sparkles like some crazed Cheshire cat that had already lost its smile.
     
        "That's it! All ashore that's going ashore. Top up the dilithium reserves and be prepared to depart in the hour." She glared at Kim. "You! Plot a course."
     
        A stunned Ensign Kim stuttered, "Bbbut…where do I plot the course to?"
     
        "Hang a left at Chad, then plot straight back to the Delta Quadrant… and grab some bars on the way out, you just got a promotion. You!" she pointed at Neelix, "Trash the leola root and replace it with coffee."
     
        "But..but..all of it?"
     
        "Do it!" She then slithered over to her first officer, "And you….pack light. You won't be needing much this trip."
     
        He looked animated for the first time in years. "You mean you're going…."
     
        "Yup…I'm going where this woman has never gone before."
     

The Beginning.

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