A/N: Sorry for the delay in the start of the new story. I needed a little break. This is the 4th story in a series of 5. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please leave a review. Reviews are fuel to the writing process.

Also, I updated my avatar on my profile. I put a picture of what I envision Dani Janeway to look like. Check it out. (If you don't see it, please be patient. The system said it would take 24 hours to appear.)

Rip In Time
By Isobel Rowan

Part 1: Starfleet Academy
Chapter 1: Invitation to Mayhem

Rich Patterson's wife bolted up, her curly hair an unruly mop on her head. A light, rhythmic chime in their bedroom marked an incoming message from Starfleet.

"Are we being attacked?" Mrs. Patterson murmured as her eyes scanned the dimly lit bedroom.

Patterson sat up and patted his wife's thigh. "No, dear," he murmured. "I'm Starfleet Academy commandant now. Remember?"

Her face instantly lost its taut look of pain and she fell back. "Then why can't they send a message at a decent hour?" She rolled over and covered her head with his pillow.

"Computer, lights," he said. His wife groaned at the intrusion of photons while he covered his bare chest and gray boxer shorts in a gray silken robe.

In his study, he ordered lights and sat at his desk, trying to look like he hadn't just been awakened. Then he hit the incoming message. "Jennings," he said to the man whose three-dimensional image of his head was bobbing atop of a projector on his desk. "Don't tell me the cadets are out of sauerkraut again."

Admiral J.R. Jennings shook off the gest and sobered quickly. "It's a little more…involved, Commandant."

The good-natured Patterson's face became instantly hard. "What is it then?"

"Cadets have broken containment at the Kapustin Lunar Station."

Patterson's eyes narrowed. Kaput, as it was called, was a Starfleet Academy installation on the dark side of the moon, used to drill cadets through live fire exercises. "How far was the breach?"

"Squads have engaged at the Presidio."

"The Presidio?!" Patterson wiped his mouth. His nose flared as he tried to calm himself. The Presidio was the campus grounds of Starfleet Academy. It was almost sacrilegious to consider that phasers had been fired there. He glanced at the chronometer and his face reddened again.

"This exercise was supposed to have concluded 12 hours ago, Admiral Jennings. And it was supposed to remain contained, just as all previous 220 previous exercises had."

This failure registered with the Academy's Director of Educational Services. Jennings brushed his forehead. "I know, Commandant, but you know how difficult this latest crop of cadets has been."

Patterson snorted and he shook his head. "Do I even need to ask who is involved?"

Jennings touched a control and the squad leaders began to scroll across Patterson's screen. "Janeway, E. Janeway, S. Wildman, D. Paris, M." He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the line of names he knew all too well. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "How did they transport to the Presidio?"

"Kaput was on lock down, per procedures."

"Per procedures," Patterson echoed with a hint of a sneer. "This crop of cadets is graduating next spring, Jennings. Routine procedures are an invitation to mayhem for them. I want them rounded up. Now! Before someone gets hurt."

"I've spoken with Squad Leader Cadet Shannon Janeway," Jennings finally admitted.

"And?"

"She apologized for violating procedures—"

"Apologized?!"

Jennings locked his jaw shut while Admiral Patterson finished a barrage of swear words. When he'd composed himself, Patterson added: "After apologizing, did she volunteer to lead her squad in."

Jennings shook his head slowly before whispering, "No."

"Did you order it, Admiral?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said.

Patterson held his breath, as he waited for his subordinate to reply.

"I asked."

Patterson swallowed his lips and ran a hand over his brow. "What else did she say, Jennings?"

"That she would fulfill her orders of the exercise—seek out and eliminate the enemy."

Patterson let his head fall back.

"Should I call Admiral Janeway?" Jennings finally asked.

Patterson's head snapped back. "No, absolutely not! That's the last thing she needs right now." He pointed a finger at the man's three-dimensional image, distorting it somewhat. "I want you to find them and bring them in before we have any casualties. Then I want their privileges revoked."

"They've had privileges revoked from the last infraction a week—"

"Do you realize," Patterson said, "that the term hasn't even started yet?"

"It started for me," Jennings said coolly.

Patterson rolled his eyes. "Just apprehend them, Admiral."

"Aye, Commandant."

Patterson fell back as the photons from the communique dissipated. "Damn," he growled.

=/\=

The console of Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway displayed three dimensional images of the latest data regarding the collapse of a neutron star beyond Federation space. But it was vital for Starfleet command to identify the direction of the sun's rotation, which in turn would determine the direction of its gamma ray burst—the brightest and most deadly form of radiation in the universe. It could require the evacuation of Federation planets in a few hundred years.

She squinted, trying to focus on the blurring data. She glanced at the chronometer. Four hundred hours. She took a long drag of her coffee and grimaced. It was cold. She stood up and stretched and marched to the replicator station in her Starfleet HQ office.

"Coffee, black."

It materialized in front of her. She cupped it gingerly and blew into it before drinking. That's when she heard the footsteps behind her.

"Hello, admiral," said a syrupy voice.

Kathryn tried not to shudder. She painted the most pleasant smile she could and spun around. "Oh, hello, Commander Sinclair. What are you doing here this late?"

Commander Albigence Sinclair was much younger than Kathryn, a fact he tried to always emphasize. His eyes were too small for his face, his nose too sharp and his lips too plump. The worst part was he thought he was a handsome man. He hiked a thigh onto her desk and she glared at it for a microsecond before deciding that this was not a battle she wanted to fight just yet. But she could shorten the visit. "How can I help you?" she asked.

"Whoa, aren't we formal?"

She smiled slightly and blinked, maintaining a waiting posture. Any small talk would no doubt prolong this visit from Starfleet Command's worst bootlicker.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are beautiful when you cut to the chase?" He leaned an elbow on his thigh and wet his lips.

"Yes," she said, breaking the vise-like grip of his eye contact. She marched around her desk, to put it between them. "My wife."

He chuckled, shaking his shoulders. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you, Admiral?"

Terrific, she thought crossly. She'd wanted to avoid getting sucked into a conversation with him. A strategy she'd just shot to hell with three careless words. She pursed her lips and shook her head. She did not want to relive their first few weeks working side by side after she'd been assigned to Starfleet Headquarters.

"I swear to you, Admiral," he said sweetly. "I didn't know you were married when I asked you out on a date. I mean, who wears their wedding ring on their right hand?"

"I do," she said curtly. She planted her fists on her hips. Time to end this boring game. "How can I help you today, Commander?"

He stood up, tugged his tunic down with one hand and offered her an obsolete padd with the other.

She stared at the antiquated device with a hint of disdain.

"I've been authorized to give you this," he said with a smirk.

She squinted at it, wondering what news she could possibly…

"We've received a communique from Commodore Seven of Nine," he said.

Before he'd even finished, Janeway had taken the padd.

Sinclair chuckled again. "It's been seven months. I thought you might be a little eager."

Janeway tried her best to ignore the man, scanning the written record to see how Seven was, if she was wounded or needed anything. It was a dry, concise treatise written by a former Borg drone, a report she'd been accustomed to reading on Voyager. But she was disappointed with the lack of detail. "When will she be returning to her duties here?"

Sinclair became suddenly withdrawn, shrugging a shoulder as an answer. "Her mission parameters have been achieved. She is free to return anytime."

Janeway felt a pit form in her belly. But she did not give in to fear's debilitating call. She never gave in to that feeling. Not when her ship was lost for 12 years in the Delta Quadrant. Not when they faced a militant Borg Queen alone. Certainly not now. "Has she been told?"

"Of course!" he said a little disgusted with the insinuation.

Janeway looked again at the words that Seven had written somewhere in Federation space. "So where is she?"

"Fourth planet of the Altinak system," he said, tipping his head to study her face. "You don't know that by now?"

Janeway glanced down at the message. The date stamp read 70768.85. It had been sent two weeks ago. She looked up and with all the dignity she could muster, she said, "No, you are dismissed, Commander."

The man straightened again. "There's one more thing, if I may, Admiral."

"What is it?"

"Seven's mission was among her own kind."

"Her own kind? Humans?"

"Borg." He said the word, emphasizing each of the sounds. "Liberated Borg to be precise. Maybe she needs to be with her own."

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "Or maybe she was doing her duty."

He chuckled. "Yah, that's it." He walked; no he sauntered out of her office.

She couldn't understand his sudden glee at the end. No, she did understand it. He never liked Seven, constantly criticizing her work. It was basic jealousy and it was ugly.

Janeway knew that working at Starfleet Headquarters would have its own set of difficulties. The changeless scenery, detachment from the excitement and the monotony at times. But never did she believe that the backstabbing and the sheer pettiness of some of her coworkers would be the worst to endure. It had been worse for Seven. "That's why she'd jumped at this long-term assignment," Janeway mumbled, still standing there and looking down at the picture of Seven in a frame.

It was a holo of Seven beside a sun-kissed stream. She was wearing a blue undershirt and a light blue chambray shirt tucked into denim and she was about to place a worm on a fishing hook for Shannon, who stood beside her. She was 6 then and she was sticking her tongue out at the person taking the picture, who would be her 14-year-old sister, Dani. It had been taken during one of their holodeck "staycations." She lifted the holo and smiled.

Now she had two announcements to tell her daughters. Seven's news was good. She was well and she was alive! "Computer, locate Commander Powers."

"Commander Powers is…"

"Present and accounted for, Admiral," Powers said at the same time that the computer replied: "Section 12 of Starfleet Headquarters."

Janeway glanced at the chronometer. It was nearly Five Hundred hours. "Remind me to lock my doors when you leave for the day."

Powers furrowed her ice blonde brows. "Very well," she said, a little puzzled.

"I got a little visit from…." Janeway pointed eastward in the direction of Sinclair's office and mouthed his name.

"Ah," Powers said, understanding dawning. "Shall I spray repellent as well?"

Janeway chuckled. "I'm not sure it will help," she said. "What are you doing here so early, anyway?"

"Is it early?" she said. "Oh, I finished my cardios, felt extraordinarily energized and decided I would check in with my taskmaster."

Janeway gave her a sardonic look. "Since you're here, would you like to have breakfast with the girls?"

"Are they expecting you, Admiral Janeway?"

Janeway waved a hand. "Of course not. Every time I try to see my own daughters, it's like a damned invasion of pompous protocol officers and mute honor guards," she said. "No, thank you. Let's just take a stroll to the Presidio. Hmm?"

"You're the taskmaster," she said, extending her hand for the Admiral to lead the way.

"Yes, I am," she said with a snort as they left their joined offices.

=/\=

Admiral Janeway tucked the obsolete padd under her arm as she neared the Starfleet Academy Guard House. She'd sent Commander Powers on ahead to secure tables for them, in the event of a breakfast rush.

The Presidio stretched out before her in gray and white buildings, all with the signature Starfleet look. But this morning it lay quiet and twinkling in the predawn.

She saw that the guard, a Bolian by the looks of his blue skin, straightened, waiting for her approach. So she stopped and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The Pacific Ocean left a soft tang in the moist air. It took her back to her own days of study in one of the Quadrant's finest institutions of higher learning. But that had been a long time, and two quadrants ago.

She marched up to the guard house and gave her name.

The young man looked barely older than her two daughters, maybe he was 21, if that. Of course, at my age, everyone looks like a baby, she thought with a smirk. He wore lieutenant pips. Probably serving light duty for some reason.

The young man diligently searched through the database, but he seemed a bit nervous. "I'm sorry, Admiral Janeway," he said, trying to deepen his voice artificially. "You aren't on any visitors list."

A corner of her mouth twitched. The young man's uniform starch was about to herniate a disk of his. "Check again, Lieutenant," she said, preferring to soften the whip until she needed it.

He thumbed again and pursed his lips. "No ma'am," he said.

"Admiral," she replied.

"Huh?" He finally looked up at her.

She quirked her mouth amiably. "I'm an admiral and I can assure you I'm on your list."

"I can assure you that you are not."

"Did you download HQ updates to your station manifest, Lieutenant?"

A light brightened his face and he flipped his right hand over. A 3-D screen projected from it and his left hand whirled through the screens.

She read her name backwards, a few seconds before he found it. "Here you are," he said. "I apologize."

"No apology necessary, Lieutenant," she said. "I appreciate your thoroughness."

"It's not the error for which I apologize," he said. "The Presidio has been closed to…."

Before he could say anymore, a blue phaser fire arced over them. It hit a tree and sparked a small fire. The Bolian lieutenant squinted in that direction, as he hit the com badge. "Fire on Presidio grounds. Repeat, fire on Presidio grounds."

Before he'd even finished the call to emergency personnel, Janeway could hear the sirens.

"Status report, lieutenant?'

Two more phasers arched over their position, both coming from the tree. There was a blast in the opposite direction, a blaze erupted from a bush illuminating the origin of a series of swear words. A cadet, dressed in a gray uniform with red quilted yoke, was hitting his arm, as flames 20 centimeters high licked up angrily.

Janeway went into Captain mode. "Lieutenant, your extinguisher!"

She grabbed the copper cylinder and ordered him to call for assistance. Then she ran toward the young man. She was grateful that no one had improved on the simplicity of the fire extinguisher design. She pulled the clip and aimed the nozzle to spray white fire suppressing foam onto his arm. He fell to his knees, his injured arm raised and smoking.

"Cadet, are you all right?" she asked tenderly.

"Admiral Janeway?" His lips were cracked and his face was dirty. But Janeway still recognized him.

"Dukat Wildman?" she said, placing a hand under his arm to help him.

"Yes, Admiral," he said in a cracked voice.

His dark obsidian eyes were the exact ones that had belonged to her former first officer, Chakotay.

By this time, the medics swirled around them. One removed his sleeve with practiced efficiency, while the other gave him a hypospray. Into this foray, Commandant Patterson walked. "How are you, son?" he asked.

He stood and came to attention, making the medic with the dermal regenerator have to correct his aim. "I'm fine, Commandant."

He looked Dukat Wildman up and down and shook his head. Then he noticed the flag officer flanking his right. "Admiral," he said. "Does Dukat look fine?"

She clucked her teeth. "I've seen better, Commandant," she said.

"I want to return to my squad," he said hoarsely.

Janeway favored him with a faint smile. But Patterson was in charge. "That's not going to happen, Cadet," he said. "In fact, I want you to order your squad to stand down."

Dukat looked from Patterson to his former Captain. "You want me to surrender, Admiral?"

Janeway softened her expression. "Think of it as living to fight another day."

"That's the spirit," Patterson said, winking at Janeway.

"It's bunk," Dukat replied.

Patterson hardened his expression. "Maybe so, but those are my rules. Now order your squad here."

Dukat reached up and tore what was left of his commbadge from his shirt and slipped his paper-thin wrist padd from the back of his hand, giving them both to the Commandant. "With all due respect, I won't have them surrender."

Patterson pursed his lips, and gestured to one of the medics. "What is Cadet Wildman's prognosis?"

"His arm will be sore, but he should make a full recovery."

Patterson nodded toward one of the security officers behind the lad. "Take Cadet Wildman to his quarters, where he is to remain for the duration of this exercise."

Dukat stared directly at Admiral Janeway. "This isn't fair," he said. "And you know it."

"Maybe not, Cadet," she said. "But life isn't fair and the Borg are not fair and Breen are not fair."

"Right now, we aren't interested in fairness as much as safety," Patterson added.

"We did what you asked. Sought out and eliminated our enemy."

"But you violated the preconditions of the test. You can't pull a Kirk on my watch, mister."

Dukat was about to walk away when Patterson placed a hand on his shoulder. "Not so fast, Cadet. I need your phaser."

Dukat smirked, reached behind him, lifted his tunic and untucked it from his pants. "It's only set to stun," he said as he placed the weapon in Patterson's hand.

"Stun still starts fires. Good night, Wildman."

"Good night, Commandant. Good night, Admiral."

The officers watched the young man limp away. "I thought this exercise was supposed to be over yesterday," Janeway said.

"Me, too, Katie," he said. "But those damned cadets sprung from a box like..."

"Cobras," she said with a smirk.

He met hers with one of his own. "I was supposed to have an easy time here as Commandant of Starfleet Academy," he said. "But your spawn are making it anything but a cake walk."

The pair walked back to the guard house. "I'm sure you've thought of this, Commandant, but have you ordered them all to surrender."

"Jennings has tried on at least two separate occasions. They are maintaining radio silence."

"Their assumption is you've been compromised."

"Or they are rabidly competitive like someone else I know," he said, giving her a small elbow to her ribs.

Janeway allowed herself a small chuckle. "How about some help with the hellions?"

"Are you sure?" he asked gravely.

She stopped and looked up at him. "Why did you not ask before?"

Patterson had known Katie Janeway since she was a girl. He knew he was too sensitive to her, like a father and a daughter. "I knew you were preoccupied with your new post and with…" he let his words trail off.

"Seven is fine," she whispered.

He stopped, the glow on his face was more brilliant than the rising sun behind them. "Is that a fact?"

"We got a communique. Her mission has wrapped up." She bluffed her way, hoping he didn't ask too many questions.

"Well, good," he said with renewed enthusiasm. "Let's round up these upstarts."

"It'll be just like old times," she said, earning herself a slap on the shoulder from the old man.

=/\=

Squad Leader Cadet Shannon Janeway crossed her arms, the breeze blowing through her shoulder-length locks. She stood high above the McCoy Medical Center at the center of The Presidio. She'd alternately watched her mother and the Commandant with binoculars that she now tucked into a thigh pocket.

"Vee," she bellowed over her shoulder. "Get me my sister on a secure line."

The Denobulan, named Veric Rosinex, was stout but looked much heavier because of the overload of material in his thigh pockets. "This is Starfleet Academy," he said needlessly. "There are no secure channels."

She turned and gently pushed him toward the roof hatch. "We'll make our own code then. I want you to run to the guard house and send this message to Dani: Cap's afoot. Pita's BF taken. Parameters morphed." Shannon stared at him with the same blue eyes that graced her Borg mother and the same prominent dimpled chin. "Repeat it back."

Vee stuttered for a moment and then cleared his throat. "Cap's Pita. A foot taken. Param—"

"Stop," Shannon said evenly. Vee was Cadet Fourth Class. This was first year and he always seemed to get flustered under pressure. She used to be the same way until a squad leader took her under his wing. Now she was the squad leader and she managed him softly. This time she said each part and had him repeat section by section. "Okay, Vee. We're counting on you."

The pair descended into the power service shaft where the rest of Delta Squad was waiting. The small room was dark, with large metal cables that serviced the entire building with power.

Shannon handed a ration bar to Vee and sat down on the greasy floor. "Eat first," she ordered. Then she unwrapped her own. It was about six centimeters and thick, the color and consistency of oats. "This tastes like…" she chewed a bit more. "Blood sausage lasagna."

The rest of her team, a Talarian male and a Bajoran female, both chuckled. "Is that a death wish?" the Talarian asked. Yako Bantai was blond, except on the cranial protrusions at the top of his head. He was aggressive and the first of his species to enter Starfleet Academy. He was also Shannon's second in command.

Shannon snorted. "It was conversation, Yako," she said.

The Bajoran remained quiet, which was usually her custom. Tycie Rohl was a deep thinker, Shannon realized. When they made eye contact, Rohl asked what they were all thinking. "It is time to end it?"

Shannon bit down hard on ration bar. "After Dani." She stopped chewing, her eyes bouncing between her two squad members. "It won't be long. Admiral Janeway just became involved."

Vee stopped chewing for a second. "Will your sister surrender?"

Shannon shrugged. "Not likely, but we can try."

Yako worked his head and finally cracked his back. It was his way of relieving stress.

Rohl leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Shannon did the same after Vee left them.

=/\=

A few hours earlier, Cadet Dani Janeway ordered her squad into the faculty quarters. They were put on the defensive when they lost one of their crewmembers on Kapustin Lunar Station. Delta Team, led by her sister, and Omega team, led by her old nemesis Dukat Wildman had surrounded them in the station cargo bay.

She and her crew commandeered the shuttle craft of the visiting Director of Educational Services, Admiral Jennings. Surrounded inside by opposing forces, Dani had ordered her squad to beam down to the McCoy Medical Center, the only transporter platform with an operational link to Kaput. She'd taken it, but that just meant that the other squads pursued them.

While they struggled to escape the Medical Center, Dani began to receive telemetry across her visual centers. Only she could see the green text that would cross her field of vision with bizarre orders or sarcastic remarks. She did not know the origin of the words but she'd received them for as long as she could remember. Their appearance was usually not welcome. Though the words had managed to save her and Cappie a few times from certain harm, its commands were illogical at best and absurd at worst. With her in command, the scrolling green text was an unwelcome nuisance.

"Go to the faculty housing unit. Find floor 3, section beta, suite 360."

Dani ordered her squad to follow. They were nearly out of breath and out of room to run. "Dani," growled her second in command. Pim Taranis was a Zaldan, a very large and imposing figure. "This is crazy."

"Trust me," she said, leading them to their new destination.

He stopped, making the two other squad members—Myrie Solon, a Vulcan and Vyatt Marzora, a Rigellian—members run into him. His handsome face was tense, his jaw muscles rippling with anger.

Dani stopped, putting her hands on her hips and looking up. Pim crossed his arms and Dani perceived him to be digging in his obstinate heels. She inhaled deeply and walked back to the squad.

"Get your Zaldan ass to suite 360 before I kick it there myself?" His face softened and his arms dropped. But still he didn't move.

With her lanky six foot two frame, Dani easily matched the man's height. Though he still outweighed her by a good 50 kilos. "Do you get me, you puny Degebian mountain goat?"

Pim was from a culture with an intense hatred of courtesy and so he backed away and nodded, gesturing for her to lead. "Gotcha," he said, employing a word Dani had used often.

"Are you certain the occupants are away?" Myrie asked in a soft tone that she usually employed after her squad leader had had a run in with the volatile Cadet Taranis.

Dani lifted her brow and offered a smile to the logically-driven squad member, Myrie. "What's the fun in telling you, Myrie," she said. Though in truth, Dani did not know. She hoped the text messages wouldn't lead her that away.

She tried to enter but the computer informed them the door was sealed.

"Unfortunate," Myrie said in that Vulcan computer mode.

Dani smirked at Pim, before she popped the panel cover beside the door.

Myrie seemed a little disturbed by that action, though she quickly schooled her face to placid calm. "That is illegal in every quadrant of the Federation," she said neutrally.

"Only if I get caught, Cadet," she said, smiling when she'd manually disengaged the locking mechanism.

The team crouched, phasers at the ready. Dani silently ordered Pim to search the rooms with a deft hand signal. Only after he'd given the all clear, did Dani stand to her full height and tuck the phaser into her thigh holster.

She quickly scanned the room, while quizzing Pim.

"Number of rooms?"

"Five rooms—two bedrooms, one ensuite, one living and dining."

Dani nodded in acknowledgement as her eyes skimmed over the pleasantries of egg-shaped sofa at the center over a white carpet. She ordered pointed at the communication console by the far wall. "Marzora," she said pointing at it. "Check the Academy newsfeeds for intel."

As she scanned past a window, she nodded for Pim to take up watch. Then she finally noticed that Myrie Solon had been immediately drawn to the large books set upon each small table that bracketed the sofa. One included titles like "Experiment in the Laws of Hyperspace Physics." It was the other she collected and perused there.

To Dani's surprise, Vyatt Marzora spoke up first. Fourth, as Dani called her, was a Rigellian, who was in her first year at the Academy. She had a crude face that resembled more of a skull. White hair that had been braided into delicate strands cascaded the face, softening the features.

"Eridani," she said, in a nasally voice. "News reports suggest that at least two squads are in custody. Stefram Kim's Alpha squad and Tisha Yuray's Theta squad have been apprehended."

Dani continued to scan, trying to determine the reason the Messenger, as she now called the text messages, had sent her here. She clucked her teeth. "I expect more of Mr. Kim. He's…"

"A Voyager Brat, after all."

Dani stopped and marveled at her team. They'd joined her oft-repeated mantra in unison. "Do I say that a lot?"

"If by a lot you mean exactly five-point-two times daily," Myrie stated. "Then, yes, you say that a lot."

She snorted. "You're a smart ass Vulcan," Dani said. She raised her hand when Myrie tried to protest. "And don't give me the usual Vulcan BS about exacting accuracy blah blah blah. I know better."

"You lived for 12 years with then-Commander Tuvok," Myrie said, trying to echo another oft-repeated phrase of Dani's.

Dani winked at Myrie, who tipped her head to one side, a little bemused for a Vulcan. She was really cute, Dani thought. The black hair was straight and hung down in a luscious curtain around her head. Her almond eyes were tilted and she never smiled, except for sarcasm and only then for just a microsecond.

Myrie's stare turned into a vise and Dani looked away. "I'm going to look around," she said. "In the meantime, I want you to—"

"Dani, do you wish for me to continue the newsfeed intel?" Marzora asked.

It was always too easy to overlook the Rigellian. She was the singular introvert in a squad of talkative and sometimes overbearing members. Dani nodded for Marzora to proceed and she turned to face the woman, giving her full attention. It was a courtesy she reserved for few.

Marzora glanced at the news feed that scrolled in a three-dimensional space above her. It was focused for her coordinates so the information was distorted for the rest of them.

"Academy security has been deployed," she said. "The Presidio is on lockdown."

Dani scrunched her nose, but did not comment. "Is that it?"

Fourth nodded, as her hand swiped through the newsfeed for a faster view. "Yes."

"Keep looking," she said. "In the meantime…" Dani glanced at her squad. Their faces black streaks and their uniforms were torn. Then she heard Pim's stomach growl.

"I think we can hole out here for a few. Let's get some grub, recycle our clothes and—"

"Shower?" Marzora inquired.

"Absolutely," Dani said. "While we can. That's the first law of survival."

She pointed toward the bedrooms. "I'm going to have a look around."

=/\=

Dani Janeway walked quietly and cautiously to the first bedroom. It was, by far, the largest room in the suite, filled with calming tones of browns and greens. The bed, about three meters across, was slightly askew in the center of the room. There was a rock garden with cascading water to one corner and a sealed library to another. It was a minimalist retreat.

She closed the door quietly and used the communication console by the bed. Within a few microseconds, a woman on the other end answered and her three-dimensional image was projected to full height in front of Dani. It was nearly holo-quality, but Dani's hand easily sailed through the image.

"Hi Tova," Dani said quietly.

In the image, Tova seemed to be setting a brush down. It dissolved from view. She adjusted large hoop earrings and began to tie back her long dark brown hair. "Dani," she purred. "I thought you'd be in class already."

"Tomorrow," she said.

Tova looked around and her finely sculpted eyebrows lifted. "Where are you? That doesn't look like Starfleet issue dorm room."

"A friend's," she said.

Finally, Tova locked her gaze on the woman's face. "You look tired," she said. "Are you feeling well—You're going to cancel. Aren't you?"

Dani strangled a grumble in her throat. "Actually, about brunch…"

Tova's face fell, along with her lanky arms to her side. "You are, aren't you!"

"Something's come up, baby," Dani said.

Her arms curled in front of her ample chest. "What is it? You aren't breaking up, are you?"

"No. No!" she said. The last word was said a little too loud and Dani peered over her shoulder. There was a muffled reply. "You okay, Dani?"

Fortunately it was the masculine voice and she answered it, all the while her eyes pinned on beautiful Tova's face. "Fine, Pim. Thanks."

"Who is Pim?"

"He's a crewmember—I mean, squad member."

"She sounds butch," Tova sneered.

Dani couldn't help but snort. "Yeah, but he's totally not my type."

Tova looked away and Dani tried to reach for her, distorting the image slightly. She stepped back to let the projectors correct themselves. "Tova, baby. I'll explain later. I just won't make it today."

"I was scheduled to work, you know. I gave it up to be with you on your last vacation day."

"I know," she said softly. "I'll make it up to you."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

Tova's face softened and her pouty lips smooth themselves out. "Okay, Dani," she said, the purr back in her voice. "Maybe I'll try to get back in the rotation today."

Dani gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry," she replied in that special voice she only used for Tova.

Tova waved it off. "I'll live," she said. "I better call my boss."

The image went blank and Dani manipulated the comm station until she wiped its memory core of the last call. Then she moved on.

The second bedroom, a third the size of the first, was as brutally disordered as the first was peaceful. Dani picked her way over strewn clothes that smelled ripe and trinkets that littered the floor.

She was about to turn away when she saw a holo that looked familiar. She walked to the edge of a bed that was two meters across and took up nearly the expanse of the room's width. Its red sheets remained unmade. At the headboard was a simple shelf. There was a glowstone whose luminesce was fading. A plasma globe with a small figurine at the center. But what interested Dani was a small holoprojector.

She lifted it to her nose, examining it in micro-detail. She saw a picture of her sister. From the length of her hair, it looked to be recent. Shannon was smiling and pointing at the photographer. She pressed the controls and another picture appeared, this one of Shannon lying down. She was visible to the tops of her breast and she was bare. Her eyes were closed in apparent ecstasy and her mouth was open in a universal "o." Dani tried to put it back, but the Messenger intervened.

"Look at the rest," it said.

She hoped she didn't have to see any pictures of her sister in flagrante delicto. So she bit down hard on her molars and pressed the controls again. It was uncomfortable but not wretched, until she got to the last one. She saw the man's back with her sister underneath, together. Together together. She didn't have anything against heterosexual union since most people came from it and did it. She just didn't want to have to be reminded that her sister participated in it. The last picture was of the pair, sitting up, fully clothed and laughing. That's when she recognized him.

"Tybelius Parmiller," she hissed. He'd made her first few weeks on earth a hell because of his parents' lawsuit and the protracted feud over what actually happened on Outpost 23 between Ty and Shannon. Dani's Borg mother, Seven of Nine, had remained adamant to the end that Tybelius Parmiller was as malevolent as the Borg Queen herself. In the end, the courts ruled that the families would have to undergo arbitration, at which point Admiral Janeway called for a cessation of familial hostilities.

But Shannon had been forbidden from seeing the man.

Dani decided to put the holo back. She certainly didn't want to dredge up this bit of Janeway history.

"Take it," the Messenger said.

She grimaced. "Are you nuts?"

"I have my reason."

Dani cursed aloud because the Messenger always resorted to this ploy. It knew something she did not.

"And I'm always right," it said.

"Damn you."

It sent a note of visual laughter, which only managed to irritate Dani. "Why should I take it?"

"Because it's a part of the plan."

"Plan!" Dani sneered. "But why?"

"Their love affair needs to end."

"Why can't you just answer the damn question?"

"Ask your Borg mother."

Dani closed her eyes. She hadn't seen Seven of Nine in more than seven months. She hadn't heard from her in five. She didn't even know if she'd ever hear from her again.

"Don't be so melodramatic. You'll hear from her within the week."

"Really?"

"Have I ever been wrong?"

The Messenger was unfailingly accurate, if a bit cryptic.

"You know I hate you, don't you?"

"Irrelevant. You must comply."

"Are you Borg?"

"No more Borg than you."

Dani knew better than to continue. The Messenger would just get more bizarre and more irritating with its mysterious answers. She slipped the mini holoprojector into a pocket and went back to join the others.

=/\=

Pim was eating a sausage as he peered out the window, taking the first watch of the day. He lifted the long tube of meat in triumph and smiled, revealing some of his chewed meat. Dani tried not to grimace and she nodded, slapping him on the back as a salute when she walked by.

Marzora remained diligently studying the newsfeed, while Myrie proffered an antiquated book of science to her. "Squad Leader Cadet," Myrie said in her customary formality. "I believe this book will be useful."

Both Pim and Dani snorted. She weighed it, frowning at an interested Pim. "It would make a poor projectile," she said seriously.

Pim grunted in agreement, while Myrie's eyebrows lowered. She studied the book again. "But that is not its purpose," she said. "Nor the reason I have offered it to you."

Dani handed it back to Myrie. "What could an old tome possibly tell me," she asked.

"Though the theories are indeed antiquated, I believe it remains a useful clue," she said. Myrie opened to the very first page and read the inscription. "Commander Trevers Parmiller." She lifted the book gingerly, showing a bookplate with gold lettering.

Dani walked to the replicator. "Coffee, black," she said. Then she ordered a meat biscuit and sat down at the table. "This must be Commander Parmiller's family residence?" she said around a mouthful.

Marzora twisted around to reveal a holo of Parmiller and his wife Commander Rascilla Sebosi. "I believe he teaches fourth year hyperspace theory and she teaches second year cosmobiology."

Dani shrugged. "It is what it is."

Myrie, her face now washed and her presence as fragrant as citrus sash-savas of her own homeworld, stood next to her near the replicator station. She requested a bowl of shur t'plomik and a steaming cup of theris-masu, placing both on the table next to her squad leader.

Myrie took a loud slurp of soup and closed her eyes. When she'd finished her religious meditation, she locked gazes with Dani. "Your aphorism is most superfluous," she said, as if she were discussing the petals of an inconsequential flower in the garden to an engineer.

Dani grinned. "As most aphorisms are," she replied, with a hint of Vulcan mimicry.

Myrie stopped her spoon mid-air. "What is the next course of action, Cadet Janeway?"

"I believe…" Dani said pompously as she stretched, arching her back away from the table with her arms held high. "That our next course of action will be a small nap."

"Nap?" the three asked, surprised.

"In rounds," she added in her normal voice. "Marzora first."

Myrie seemed surprised, though she disguised well with a cough. "I meant, Dani, rather what would be our next course of action vis-à-vis the exercise?"

Dani looked at Marzora, who stood. She thumbed the bedrooms behind her. Marzora gave a large yawn and then seemed surprised at its ferocity. "We can relate," Dani replied softly to her. "Now git. We'll wake you in two."

Marzora stopped and looked at her commanding officer. "I wish to know the battle plan as well," she said.

Dani stood up, her empty dishes in hand. "Well, if you need a blow-by-blow, I'm going to recycle these dishes, then my clothes, take a shower and get more coffee."

"Cadet," Marzora chided softly.

Dani laughed and shook her head. "Okay, okay," she said with a chuckle. "We are going to wait here in the lap of luxury until my sister Shannon gives up."

Myrie tipped her head to one side. "Your logic is flawed."

"How so?"

"What if the Parmillers return?"

Dani blew out some air with an exaggerated huff, lifting a few long strands of auburn hair from her forehead. "Details, details," she said. "I'll send Pim to surveill the gate."

"It's too stuffy in here," he admitted happily.

Dani nodded in acknowledgement. "The rest is a waiting game, my friends."

=/\=

Dani had started to dream that she was back on Voyager, as her captain. The Borg had just made contact and she'd accidentally revealed that her sister was aboard. Instantly Borg drones materialized on Voyager's bridge, one piercing Shannon's neck with assimilation tubules.

She was shaking…

"Eridani, wake up! You are experiencing parasomnia," she said.

Dani bolted up and blinked. The lights were on full. The windows were dark and she started up at a refreshed looking Vulcan woman whose serenity was always intoxicating. "Where am I?" she asked, throwing her legs over the bed.

"You have been sleeping in Commander Parmiller's bed for approximately one-point-two-five hours," she said. "Less than allowed because Pim has returned."

"Returned…" she prompted, as she rubbed her temples.

"Returned from his surveillance of the visitor's gate," she said. "He has returned with a…guest."

At the last word, Dani shot to her feet. "Who is the guest?"

"Cadet Rosinex."

"From Delta Squad," Dani said, brushing past her subordinate.

Rosinex was sitting and slurping his drink and gorging himself on an omelet. "Thank you," he said to Pim. "We are holed up in a …" Rosinex stopped himself from revealing vital intel when Dani appeared. "In an unpleasant location without vital resources."

"What are you doing here?" Dani asked.

"Betraying your squad leader for the sake of your fat belly?" Pim growled.

Rosinex glared at Pim and inched his chair away from the large, looming man. "I'm here at Cadet Janeway's request," he said. Then he stopped and closed his mouth sharply, looking up as if thinking. "I mean, I was supposed to deliver a message but Kahless here captured me."

"I'm Zaldan, you imp. Not Klingon."

Rosinex shrugged, as if it mattered little.

Dani put a hand on Pim's shoulder. "What's your message, Vee?"

He looked up in memory. "Cap's afoot. Pita's BF taken. Parameters morphed."

He smiled at himself, his posture grew taller.

Pim slammed the younger man's shoulder. "What the hell does it mean?"

Rosinex glared. "How am I supposed to know? She give me the code. Shannon said Dani would know."

Pim glared at his commanding officer. "Do you understand it?"

Dani squinted, looking at a corner of the room. "Admiral Janeway is at The Presidio."

"Yes," Rosinex said with a clap.

Myrie leaned over and shook her head. "We are ensconced illegally," she said. "It would be unwise to make an announcement of our location."

He sat on his hands.

Dani walked to the window port to view out in every direction. "It may indicate that she is working with security to apprehend us."

"That is bad how?" Pim asked.

"She knows our tactics. Hell, she taught them to us," Dani said looking back at the squad.

"What else does the message indicate?" Myrie inquired.

"If I'm right, then Dukat Wildman has been captured."

"That nullifies his team," Marzora replied.

"Maybe," Dani said provisionally. "But it indicates that our enemy isn't our enemy."

Myrie's eyebrows lifted high. "All this from seven words?"

"Metaphors, my dear Vulcan," Dani said.

"BF indicates what?" Myrie asked skeptically.

Dani hid an eye roll under her closed eyelids. "BF. Boyfriend. Shannon used to date Dukat."

"Dukat? Wildman?" Pim asked with a hint of disgust. "He's a pipsqueak turd, just like his father."

The corner of Dani's mouth quirked into a semi-smile. "Maybe. But that's what it means."

"I hate him!" Pim said, launching into a diatribe against his rival.

"He is a Voyager Brat," Myrie stated casually to her teammate.

Pim eyed Dani. "I really hate him, Dani."

"They aren't together anymore, Pim," Dani said. This brightened Pim and Dani studied him with renewed interest. She'd never thought she'd be a matchmaker for her younger sister. Then she shook her head after he burped loudly. A stench wafted her way and she shook her head again. Shannon would never date Pim. She was sure of it.

Just then every comm station in the apartment began to chime with an incoming message. "To the rogue cadets at The Presidio."

"Rogue cadets!" Pim said with a snort of pride.

Dani smiled at him.

"If you surrender now, you will not be penalized."

Dani bobbed her head to the rhythm of the words, her eyes looking up as she listened. She shook her hand, rolling it forward as if that would make the message accelerate.

"Present yourselves at the Gate to ensure safety."

Pim was watching Dani closely. "We aren't going to surrender, are we?"

"Don't be…"

The Messenger chose that moment to interrupt and green text began to scroll over her visual center, superimposing them over Pim's face in the background. "You should surrender."

She knew by the suddenly curious expressions in her direction that she must be showing her stress. She wanted to shout at the Messenger and tell him to blow a plasma conduit. But she couldn't and remain sane.

She just shook her head.

"You must," it said again.

"Why?" she thought. "Why, damn you? And this time, no bullshit."

"Because if you don't, then you will be confined to quarters for two weeks and you will need your autonomy next week to avert a family disaster."

Dani began to breathe hard but she clamped tightly down on her lips. She turned away and began to pace across the room. "Dani?" some of her squad asked in concern.

She lifted a hand but kept her head down, pacing. The argument in her head required her full attention.

"Why can't you ever be specific?"

"You won't believe me and you'll spill the beans. I can't let that happen."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You'll know in a few years."

"Will you tell me then?"

"No, I won't have to. You'll figure it out on your own."

"This doesn't help."

"You must comply."

She executed a crisp military turn and raised herself to her full height. This would be difficult, she knew.