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From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:22:58 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW VOY/DS9 Cardinal Attractors 1/8 (J/G) [NC-17]
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Title: Cardinal Attractors
Author: Penumbra
Contact: penumbra at clinched dot net
Series: VOY/DS9
Rating: NC-17
Codes: J/G
Summary: During a case of industrial espionage, Admiral Janeway gets
Feedback: Comments, constructive criticism, and mash notes accepted
with heartfelt gratitude either on-list or via email.

Warnings: language, explicit sex, voyeurism, occasional Brit
spelling and vocabulary (my English is in a state of flux), possible
muck-ups with Starfleet rank continuity.
Note: Well, all I can say is that this plot (?) and pairing came to me 
in a dream after watching too many eps of Voyager in one go and the
concept was odd enough to pique my interest. At least, that's my
official excuse... sometimes, my mind boggles my mind.


----------------------------------------------------------------------
Cardinal Attractors, part 1/8
by Penumbra (c) 2004
----------------------------------------------------------------------


The intercom buzzed. "Ma'am, Admiral Nechayev to see you."

Startled out of her reading, Admiral Kathryn Janeway almost dropped
her coffee. Setting the cup carefully down on her desk, she touched
the intercom button. "Send her right in, Eugene."

"Right away, admiral," the voice of Ensign McNamara confirmed.

The door whooshed open and admitted the compact, energetic form of
Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev. As Janeway's immediate superior in the
Starfleet Emergent Technology Propagation Group, together they were
responsible for approving or denying requests for any cutting-edge
technology the Federation produced. On her more pessimistic moments,
Janeway often thought that while her job sounded glamorous enough, the
reality was often nothing more than rubber-stamping permits to use
Borg transwarp nodes for research purposes or deciding that the
Federation settlement on Keltak Prime would need to do with three
instead of five type 9 science shuttles; in other words, the business
of bureaucrats.

"Have you read the latest from Intelligence?" Nechayev asked without
preamble as she slumped into a chair on the other side of Janeway's
desk. She tossed a padd in front of Janeway with a disgusted air about
her.

Janeway's polite smile brightened. The only thing recently bringing
any excitement into her life had been the growing suspicions of
industrial espionage at various Federation science laboratories. "I
have, ma'am, and it's quite worrying," Janeway said and gestured at
the silver thermos perched on the corner of her desk. "Coffee?"

Nechayev waved in the general direction of the thermos. "Please." 

As she poured, Janeway kept an eye on Nechayev. "So Intelligence
doesn't yet know who or where our mole is?"

"It's all suppositions. They assume it's just one person, not within
the core research teams but someone with ample access and the ability
to fool some very serious security measures." 

"A Starfleet insider?" Janeway conjectured as she placed the coffee
cup in front of Nechayev. "Or a free contractor?"

"No idea," Nechayev said and snorted. "Intel needs to live up to its
nomenclature better. All they'll tell me is that someone, somewhere,
is doing something for unknown reasons."

"Are there any rumours?"

Janeway's question produced the first smile she'd seen on Nechayev's
face in days. "That's a whole another matter. Rumours are aplenty,
most pointing towards Section 31 doing a bit of business with the Tal
Shiar. Everything's circumstantial and inconclusive, of course," she
said and nodded towards the padd she had brought. "See for yourself."

"Section 31 and Tal Shiar?" Janeway asked and frowned as she finally
picked up the padd. She quickly glanced through the data and true
enough, the clandestine intelligence agencies of both the Federation
and the Romulan Empire were mentioned. "That doesn't seem to make any
sense."

"It didn't to me, either, until yesterday when I spoke with Venar at
Intel," Nechayev said and leaned forward, obviously warming to her
topic. "You see, the two intelligence agencies have something in
common: they hold a sizable grudge against a shared enemy."

Janeway inhaled sharply, the puzzle pieces clicking to place. "The
Cardassians?" she breathed. Of course.

"That's right. It's a well-known secret that Section 31 has been keen
on sabotaging our supply runs to Cardassia Prime and it seems even
fanatics see the sense in synergy sometimes. And voila, Federation
experimental technology in exchange for various cargo ship explosions
that have the Tal Shiar's paw prints all over them." Nechayev finished
her monologue with a frustrated flourish of her hand before sitting
back, biting off a sigh. "A bloody mess if you ask me."

"They need to be stopped as soon as possible," Janeway concluded,
spelling out the obvious. "What can we do?"

"Until we find the Section 31 mole, not much, I'm afraid." Nechayev
glanced at the wall chrono. "But that's neither here nor there. I
actually came to say hello before heading home."

Janeway frowned and glanced at the chrono, too. It wasn't even 1600
hours. "You're leaving this early?"

"The party, remember?" Nechayev said and cocked her eyebrow at
Janeway. "Don't tell me you've forgotten."

"Oh lord, the party," Janeway groaned. For a moment there, she had
forgotten all about it -- the best two minutes of her day. 

Propping her elbow up on the table, Nechayev leaned her cheek against
her palm. "Kathryn. I trust you're not thinking of not appearing?" she
asked, giving Janeway a steely look. "That just wouldn't do."

Janeway grimaced. "The guest of honour not appearing at her own party?
Even I'm not crazy enough to risk the wrath of the Admiralty that
way," she muttered and gave her superior a sardonic look. "Whose
hare-brained idea was this party anyway?"

"Mine, as it happens," Nechayev retorted, not unkindly, and smiled as
she stood up. "We'll continue this tomorrow. Go home, Kathryn. Have a
bath, relax, have a stiff drink or two, and put on a brave face. It's
just a party."

"More like a circus, if tradition holds, and I'm the main attraction,"
Janeway groused good-naturedly. She rose as well and saluted Nechayev
with her cup. "See you tonight, ma'am."

Nechayev nodded and with a minuscule parting smile, she left. As soon
as the doors closed behind her, Janeway slumped back into her chair
and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger
for a moment. The party was still four hours away and she was already
developing a severe headache. 

"Eugene," she said into her intercom after a moment. "Please go and
pick up my dress uniform from the cleaner's. It should be ready by
now."

"Right away, admiral. Anything else?"

"A double dose of painkillers or, barring that, a loaded phaser,"
Janeway muttered and closed her eyes. 

"Ma'am?"

She exhaled with measured calm. "Never mind, Eugene. Just go get my
uniform."

"Yes, ma'am." 

The intercom chirped as the channel was cut and Janeway opened her
eyes; her gaze focused on her silver coffee thermos. Attached to its
polished if slightly dented side was a small plaque bearing the name
and serial number of the Voyager and the sight of it made Janeway
sigh. To say that she was not looking forward to the party was to make
an understatement.

-----------------------------
End of part 1/8.




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