DISCLAIMER: Paramount probably doesn't want to own these characters, but it does . . . so, yeah, no money here. Unless, of course, you WANT to pay me . . .
This takes place directly following fourth season's "Scientific Method."
This one goes to my three main supporters in Trek. Espalia, Surel, and Helena, you make life all the more interesting . . . even without the Pepsi.
Direct Order
by Harley
" . . . straighten them out!"
"Shall I flog them as well?"
Five days, eight hours, and thirty-four minutes after she had forceably removed the experimenting aliens from her ship by flying through a binary pulsar while in a dopamine-overloaded and caffiene-deficient state, Captain Kathryn Janeway walked into the cargo bay, hoping to take the opportunity to thank Seven of Nine for saving the ship again. She stepped through the door and heard a loud shriek.
"Seven?" Janeway called, putting her hand to her hip only to find that she wasn't wearing a phaser. She put her hand to her other hip, and pulled out her tricorder. She scanned the room, calling, "Is everything all right?"
Seven of Nine walked up rubbing her backside. Janeway's eyes widened and she glanced over Seven's shoulder. From across the room, she could barely make out most of her senior staff and several other crewmen whose names she never had learned. All were in varying states of distress as they clutched at their rear ends.
Tuvok stood to the side, face Vulcan and impassive. He held a whip in his right hand. As he noticed her gaze his eyebrow went up. "Captain," he said. "This was quite illogical. However, I could not disobey a direct order."
*END*