onneelix1

And The Morale Of The Story Is…

An excerpt from Memoirs of the Delta Quadrant by Neelix

Edited by Lt. Taya 17 Janeway (TaTTooGaL™)

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Ladies and Gentlemen: As you know, we have something special for you down here at Birdland this evening- a recording from Blue Note Records…

One of the more remarkable anecdotes about our dear captain was actually my fault, mostly. Truth to tell, it was a rather embarrassing incident, one best conscripted to the dregs of one's memories, if not for the happy ending. But it turned out right in the end, you see, like most things on the Voyager eventually did.

It was somewhere in the seventh and final year in our journey home, and we'd just finished some major battle or the other, and the standard repair routine was still underway. I was in the mess hall, trying to decide on which dish to prepare for the crew's dinner, when Captain Janeway came in, looking harassed. I came over with her usual cup of coffee. "Is there anything I can help you with, Captain?" I asked her.

She just smiled up at me in the tired manner that she had. "No, Neelix. I've just got this terrible headache." She shrugged, rubbing her temple absently. "It's nothing I can't bear, though."

I brightened. Something I could help with! "A headache? Why, I believe I can help with that!"

You see, in the past few days, I'd been researching into some Terran home remedies, and I'd come across this little herb which had been very popular for treating such headaches in Earth's twentieth century. They called it paracetamol. Of course, we grew none of that on the ship, but the replicator was happy to provide me with a small vial of powdery white substance. It was a little bitter, so I mixed it with sugar and dissolved it in water. It was a hit with many of the human crewmembers, and had a great degree of success in eradicating the headache. It was all for the best, you see.

Captain Janeway looked up at me, curious and hopeful. "Really?"

"But of course! I found this wonderful substance from the annals of human homeopathy, and it works really well for headaches! I could mix some of it in your coffee, if you'd like."

She smiled at me with gratitude in her eyes. "I'd like that very much, thank you."

Humming merrily, I took her cup back to the pantry and mixed in several tablespoonfuls of the sugar-paracetamol blend into her coffee. I was mildly worried about the high sugar content it would give the coffee, but sometimes there's nothing that raises spirits like a slight excess of glucose.

I watched carefully as the captain took a few tentative sips of the coffee I handed back to her. "An… interesting taste," she noted, "but it's fine."

So I left her to her own devices and went back to preparing for the crew's dinner. At length I decided that I would need some other ingredients in addition to the ones in the pantry, so I took a walk around the ship to see what I had in hand.

Of course, with the ship being in such bad shape and everything, it took me quite a long while to get what I'd wanted done, as I'd stop every now and then to talk to crewmen doing repairs all over the ship. Finally I stopped by Sickbay to ask the Doctor about some nutritional business. He was busy, as usual, but he seemed quite happy to see me.

As I was about to leave, I casually asked him as a passing remark, "By the way, Doctor, what do you know of paracetamol?"

He glanced sharply up at me. "Paracetamol? It was a drug used by humans in the twentieth century as a relief for fever and headaches."

"I thought so," I said, smiling. "The crew loves it."

"The crew?" His eyes widened in horror. "Don't tell me you've been dispensing it to them!"

"Only as a temporary relief!" I blustered, suddenly realizing that it wasn't the wisest thing to do. "And the rubric said it was perfectly safe for humans!"

"Only in the correct doses!" exclaimed the Doctor, voice rising in exasperation. "Paracetamol has adverse effects in large doses! Especially when taken with other stimulants such as caffeine- which, I believe, our esteemed crew consumes a lot of." He frowned at me. "How much did you give each crewmember?"

"Well…" I was slightly hesitant. "I've only administered it to a few people so far... and approximately only about eight hundred milligrams per person."

The Doctor looked shocked. "Eight hundred?" He folded his arms. "Mr. Neelix, I suggest that in the future you consult me before issuing medicinal drugs to the crew!"

"Eight hundred is too much?" I asked tentatively.

"Too much?" The Doctor waved his arms. "It's twice the standard dosage for an adult human!"

"Oh dear." I frowned. "What adverse effects does it have?"

The Doctor shook his head, clearly not enjoying his pharmaceutical lecture. "An overdose of paracetamol can cause hallucinatory effects, as well as overloading the body's metabolic system-"

"Wait, wait." Something suddenly struck me and left me cold. "Did you say something about caffeine?"

"Yes, I did. I said that it amplifies the effect of the drug."

Uh-oh. Sam Wildman and the rest had been fine yesterday because I served their mix with plain water.

But the captain…

The Doctor's commbadge trilled. He tapped it. "Sickbay."

"Doctor?" It was Tom Paris' voice. I could hear noises in the background… music? He seemed slightly awkward. "I think you'd better come down to the Mess Hall, fast. There's a… medical emergency."

"On my way. EMH out." The Doctor gave me a sharp glare. "Care to tell me what all that was about?"

Double uh-oh. "The captain…" I began, but he got the hint before I could go further. Quickly snatching his mobile emitter from his desk in his office, he was out of the door faster than I could say "coffee." Feeling somewhat helpless, I hurried after him.

Groovy groovy jazzy funky pounce bounce dance as we

Dip in the melodic sea; the rhythm keeps flowing and drips to the MC…

The Mess Hall was quite a sight. For one thing, hot jazz music was playing over the speaker system. For another, most of the off-duty crew were gathered there, watching in amazement. But for most part, it was the sight of Captain Janeway dancing on top of the long table with a somewhat unwilling Chakotay that was the cincher. She had taken off the upper jacket of her uniform and she was swinging to the infectious tune in her tank top, twirling her jacket above her head and trying to draw Chakotay closer to her.

When we stepped into the Mess Hall, Chakotay was frantically signaling to Tom Paris behind his blissfully oblivious captain's back. "Where's the doctor?" he mouthed frantically, as Captain Janeway started to lap-dance on him. He glanced up at us, and his worried face dissolved into relief. "Help," he said, pointing needlessly at the cavorting figure twisting herself around him.

The captain giggled. "Aren't you having fun, Chakotay?"

He smiled to humor her. "Yes."

She laughed and spun away from him. "Funky, funky," she sang with the music.

Chakotay glanced at the Doctor imploringly.

I gauged the reactions of the assembled crew, which ran the gamut from mortification to amusement. Even Seven had a slight smile on her face.

The Doctor quickly filled a hypospray with a suitable sedative and tossed it to Chakotay. With a soft hiss, Chakotay administered it to the captain's neck as she twirled in for another gyration session on Chakotay's lap. She collapsed into his arms with a soft sigh.

With as much grace as possible, Chakotay got off the table, carrying the captain's limp form in his arms. He cradled her gently on his lap as the Doctor ran his medical tricorder over her. "What in the world got into her?" he asked in concern.

"Too much paracetamol and caffeine, that's what," said the Doctor acidly, casting me a sharp glance. "What happened here?"

Chakotay shrugged. "Well, we decided to play some old jazz from Earth's twentieth century to lighten up the mood here, and then…" He glanced up overhead as the rhythm continued. "First she complained she was hot, and took off her jacket, which was odd. Then she started to tap her feet, which was even odder. And… well, it wasn't long before she'd dragged me to join her up on that table." He frowned. "What's paracetamol, and why was she taking it anyway?"

The Doctor shot me another accusatory look as he administered some counter-medication. "Well our friend here, Mr. Neelix, decided to appoint himself as ship's physician and start dispensing medication to the ship's crew." He gestured down to the captain. "And this is the result."

I felt my spots flush and my whiskers stiffen in embarrassment. "Well, how was I supposed to know that would happen? There wasn't anything in the databank which-" I began.

The Doctor didn't let me finish. "I want to take her to Sickbay for further examination. To make sure the drug didn't have any other adverse effects." That last line was definitely meant for me.

Chakotay nodded wordlessly and stood, still carrying the captain, sleeping contentedly. He followed the Doctor out of the Mess Hall as Paris and Seven started to disperse the gathered crewmembers, many of whom were now tittering amongst themselves. I felt inexplicably guilty, so I followed Chakotay.

In the turbolift Chakotay was mostly silent, glancing down at the captain in concern. Finally he sighed. "I don't know how the crew is going to take to this," he said.

The Doctor looked worried. "I don't know how she is going to take to this," he muttered. "Not just physically- mentally as well."

Chakotay looked at the Doctor with uncertainty. "I don't know," he said softly. "I really don't know."

Smooth, my, floating like a butterfly; notes that I float, sung like a lullaby

Brace yourself as the beat hits ya; dip trip! Flip fantasia…

Three hours later she was still out cold. I'd gone to prepare dinner and had come back to the Mess Hall, and Chakotay was still working from Sickbay, waiting for her to wake. He didn't want her to be alone when she did. Part of me began to wonder if I'd done something terrible to her.

The news had spread like wildfire. Everywhere I turned it seemed that people were talking about nothing but the captain losing it in the Mess Hall. Dancing on the tables. It was depressing. I'd hoped that the crew would forget about it fast, but it seemed like there was no hope for that. Meanwhile I plagued Sickbay, trying to make everything as pleasant as it could be for her when she came to.

Finally she stirred on the biobed, moaning as the aftereffects of the drug overdose hit her. Chakotay was by her side instantly, holding her hand. "Kathryn."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked disorientated and confused. "What just happened?"

Chakotay patted her arm soothingly. "Everything's all right," he told her. "You had a drug overdose, but you're fine now."

The memory seeped through to her sluggish brain and she sat up abruptly. "I remember! Oh gods-"

Chakotay held her by her shoulders, trying to calm her down. "Relax, Kathryn! It was nothing… you should lie down and rest. You-"

She pushed his hands away, frantic and shaking from the experience. "I was- oh goodness- I didn't know what I was doing-" She buried her head in her hands in mortification, trembling.

Chakotay drew his arm around her. "Kathryn," he said in a low voice. "Listen to me. Nobody blames you for what you did. You weren't yourself back there."

She glanced up at him, eyes shining with tears of embarrassment. "What will the crew think?" she whispered.

I felt awful. This was my entire fault. "Captain," I began, "I'm sorry. I was careless in giving you that drug. I accept full responsibility for everything."

She glanced up at me, part of that steel returning into her eyes. "No, Mr. Neelix, you shouldn't take the blame for whatever I did when I lost all my inhibitions. It wasn't by any of your design." Her cheeks were flushed pink now, and she rubbed her temple. "Chakotay, what time is it?"

"Captain, you're due on the bridge in ten minutes, but…" he gestured in exasperation. "You're not going for duty in this state!"

"Precisely." The Doctor brushed past me- not impolitely, but with just enough force to imply that I was getting in the way. "You need at least a day's rest." He sighed. "Moral of the story is, don't allow replicators to dispense such substances to anyone who wishes to consume them. My oversight."

I wanted to moan. Why was everyone else blaming himself or herself for my gaffe? Morale officer of the ship, I thought, and I'm getting everyone to wallow in self-accusation.

Morale officer of the ship. Surely I could do something to help her?

Then it clicked. Of course. It wasn't just a problem confined to a few select people; it was a ship-wide syndrome, an affair which everybody played a part in. And who better to rectify it than me? I left Sickbay, secure in knowing what course of action I should pursue.