SUMMARY: Poor Tom, you'd think by now he'd learn not to ask a woman how old she is.
CODES: VOY
RATING: PG13
DISCLAIMER: Characters aren't mine, not that this would ever happen.
NOTES: none
"Classified Information"
by Liz VanZandt
"I swear to you, Harry, she's at least two years older than him," Tom Paris insisted.
Across the table, his best friend just shook his head doubtfully. "I don't know, Tom, I just don't think she looks older."
Tom rolled his eyes. "What woman wants to look their real age, Harry?" He sighed at his friend's still reluctant face. "Look, I can prove it to you."
"Oh yeah?" Harry raised one eyebrow.
"Sure, all we have to do is look in their files. Those things have everything you could want to know about all of us."
"But, couldn't we get in trouble for looking at those?"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Tom grinned mischievously. "Anything we're not supposed to know is classified anyway. We're not gonna be able to get past the basics without at least a level eight clearance, so what's it matter?"
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Harry silently wondered exactly how he always managed to let Tom talk him into such things. "All right, but not here in the middle of the mess," he finally replied.
"Great!" Tom grinned widely.
Tossing the rest of their meals in the recycler, the two officers made a beeline for Tom's quarters, intent on a little harmless fun and settling a bet.
Sitting down at his desk, Tom reached his arms out in front of him, fingers locked together as he stretched his muscles. "All right, computer, access personnel files, USS Voyager."
That action requires a level six security clearance, the computer chirped.
Tom reached over to his computer terminal and input his codes. After a few seconds delay, the computer chirped again, Files accessed. Across the screen, they saw a list of Voyager's crewmembers appear. Tom scrolled down until he came to Commander Chakotay's.
Quickly calling up the file, he scanned the contents until he found what he was looking for. "Ah, here we go, 2335," he pointed at the correct line on the screen.
"There's no month or day," Harry observed.
"Probably because his people don't follow the same calendar as us," Tom suggested. "But at least we have a year, that's the important part."
The two men turned back to the computer, returning to the previous list. The continued scrolling down until they came to the file for Captain Kathryn Janeway.
Pulling it up on the screen, Tom again scanned it for what he was looking for. "Rank, current assignment, home region," he muttered, reading through the different headings. His eyes grew wide as he came to the line that read 'birthdate.' "Classified!" he cried, looking over at his friend.
"That's a level twelve security clearance," Harry noted quietly, slowly realizing that Tom may have just landed him in even more trouble than he'd originally thought. "That's fleet admirals and Federation president only, Tom."
"How the hell did she get a level twelve security clearance put on her friggin' birthday?!" Tom exclaimed. "I didn't even know there is such a thing as a level twelve security clearance."
"Well you do now."
Tom and Harry spun around to find Kathryn Janeway standing in the doorway, hands on hips and a none too nice look in her eyes. "You should both know better than to be looking in people's personnel files," she said quietly. Both men knew that that voice did not bode well for them.
Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound would come out. He should have known Tom's scheme would get him in trouble.
Next to him, Tom at least found his voice after a shocked moment. "But Captain, we didn't mean any harm, we were just trying to settle a bet as to whether you or Commander Chakotay is older. We weren't gonna look at any of the classified stuff."
Silently, Janeway reached across Tom and typed in a command that cleared the screen. "Consider the bet off, gentlemen. I will let it go this time, but Tuvok has the computer set up to notify me if anyone, and I mean anyone, accesses the personnel files. If I find you accessing them once more, you will find yourself doing some very dirty jobs for a very long time. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," chorused both men.
Janeway was halfway to the door by the time Tom decided to test his luck. "Uh, Captain, if I may, how old are you?"
She stopped, giving him a wry smile over her shoulder. "Twenty-nine." With a wink, she was gone.
"See," Harry said triumphantly, turning back to his friend. "I told you Chakotay is older."
Tom just groaned.
The End
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