That isn't what I was asking. I'm aware of basic debriefing procedures.
I just don't see why those would call for complete classification of their presence. Nobody else has a complete blackout thrown over them, not me, not the Maquis, not the EMH or Neelix or our guests. And we'll all have to be debriefed as well.
::loses battle with patience, voice wavering::
Do you expect me to believe that they'll just be chatted up, scanned, and released?
If I recall, Miss Hansen, at least, is still tethered to an alcove for regeneration. Command certainly won't be allowing one of those off the premises, so some observation will be necessary regardless.
Other than that...I'm uncertain.
I'm well aware of your lack of trust for Starfleet, but have you given thought to what the Hansens might expect from other factions, even civilians? Many lost loved ones to the Borg during their last incursion, Thomas. The very foundation of our civilization was shaken.
People aren't going to take lightly to having Borg walking free.
All I hope is that they'll be given the chance to prove themselves as exactly what they are-people who were victimized by the Borg as much as anyone else was.
Magnus Hansen made some stupid decisions but I'm told a lot of people do that and earn forgiveness for it. He lost the woman he loved and believe me, that's enough to open anyone's eyes and bring them to their knees in humility.
And Seven...she was just a child. The fact that she was able to break from the Collective after spending most of her life part if it should say enough. She just wants to regain as much of her humanity as possible.
::tilts lips up, a little sarcastically::
Since you obviously haven't read the latest updates, I'll fill you in, by the way. It isn't 'Miss Hansen', it's 'Mrs. Paris'.
She's family now, Dad, like it or not.
::shuts eyes, pressing thumb to temple in vain battle against throbbing::
::reopens them, surveying sparse offering of padds on desk...no Pathfinder briefs, that's for certain::
No, I didn't realize.
...I'll do everything I can to sway the rest of the Admiralty to a more understanding frame of mind, of course, but you must realize there's only so much I can do.
::narrows eyes...that's a far cry from his usual spiel about how power is equal to the force you put behind your convictions::
::maybe a lot has changed::
All I ask is that you try. It's bound to do some good.
::frowns, revisiting earlier part of conversation::
What did you mean when you said you'd be in Molly's place if you could?
She didn't share every detail, then?
Moira is aboard the Titan. I believe we have their last logged location as roughly a parsec past the Gum Nebula. Scientific exploration is partly their mission...
::wisely leaves out any reference to Borg hunting::
...but they were also hoping to rendezvous with Voyager at some point. They have slip stream technology.
::at nod, sits back, already formulating another argument to present to captainchakotay
There's no guarantee that Voyager would be capable of supporting the drive, of course. Titan and her successors are far more advanced.
So if she couldn't, they were just going to shake hands, give a 'nice seeing you', and blaze off home ahead of us?
Thought that counts, I guess.
I'm certain every effort would be made. Even if redressing your ship with slipstream weren't an option, there are other upgrades that undoubtedly would work and give you a better hand without demanding unnecessary risk.
It might be worth the wait.
Well, all things considered, I'm not really in any hurry to get home, and the safety of the crew has always come first for me, so...I'll sure as hell try to convince Chakotay to hold off.
It might also help if Titan opened some official lines of communication, instead of me having to rely on ferreted information from personal sources. I'm sure you can see to that much.
::glances to door when chime sounds, then back to screen::
Look, I have to go.
::manages thin smile, though mind is already on other matters...namely, confronting colleagues about more than one issue::
Any time, son.
::blinks, jarred by absently optimistic words::
And Thomas...take care.
Oh, don't worry, I've made it this far. And I'm in good hands.
We'll talk later, Dad.
::waits for last nod of acknowledgment to dim screen, pushing chair back and rising before melancholy can set in::
::raises brow at both secured door...a rarity...and unmistakably faux cheer in his tone::
I can return later if you prefer.
::meets querying blue eyes, finally catching the implied concern::
Oh, no, no. I've been waiting on you.
Actually, I just took advantage of the free time to call home.