Summary: Not only is Ensign Williams stuck on a ship seventy thousand light years away from home but she's also been plunged into total darkness. As the crew struggles to retain morale, Sarah's taking it all rather hard. To top it all off, the Night has brought back a memory of someone Sarah used to know, and it looks as though he's here to stay...
Disclaimer: ST:VGR - not mine; Labyrinth - not mine; Solaris influences - not mine; Canonic timelines adhered to with some artistic license.
Into The Night
Chapter 2: There's glitter in my replicator
In the middle of Jefferies tube seventeen, somewhere between decks eight and nine, Sarah fiddled with a burned-out circuit board fixing an astrometrics overload. Gently, she replaced the damaged components and recalibrated the systems. It was getting very warm, and she glared at the circuit angrily. Sarah detested working in the maze of the narrow tunnels running throughout the ship, up and down, left and right. She hated every minute of being cooped up in small spaces full of turnings and no evident way out. When the circuit board finally blinked back at her she was only too eager to pack up her tools and leave.
Perhaps Sarah had been too enthusiastic in slamming shut the access panel on her way out, for she found herself facing Seven of Nine, Sarah's least favourite person on the ship. The feeling may have been mutual – Sarah found it difficult to talk to Seven and the Borg had little reason to talk to Sarah. Ex-Borg, Sarah consciously corrected herself, still feeling dubious about the 'ex' bit. Seven had joined them some months ago but Sarah had not seen much of her. In their own ways, they kept themselves to themselves. Presently, it appeared that Seven was not at all surprised to see Ensign Williams at the scene of the commotion.
"You have repaired the malfunction?"
"Good as new," Sarah grumbled, "Sorry, I just…don't like working in there."
"Personal preferences are irrelevant," noted Seven, "Your function is to assist with the ship's systems, wherever they may be located."
Sarah wanted more than anything to avoid this lecture and to carry on with the rest of the shift. Moreover, she recalled with a slight panic, there was an unwelcome someone asleep in her quarters, and sooner or later she would have to figure out how to get rid of him.
"However, if your performance is suboptimal in certain conditions," Seven added, in a strained effort to soften the blow, "Perhaps other crewmen can be considered for the task in your place." Sounding unlike herself, she said, "Thank you for repairing the circuit so quickly."
During this brief but odd exchange, Sarah realised that Seven had spoken to her more than in all of their time spent on Voyager put together. And Voyager is a small ship, Sarah thought.
"It's the Doctor's social skills training," explained Seven, "I am to thank the crew for their assistance and to attempt to emphasise with them. In his opinion it will help me in my understanding of humanity."
"Right," said Sarah, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, "Well, you're welcome. But I have to go, check up on that faulty holodeck program."
Seven nodded, and, after Sarah had left, started her personnel monitoring program. She placed a high value on crew efficiency and had a long-running suspicion that Ensign Williams spent far longer in the holodeck while on duty than was necessary.
Seven's suspicions were not entirely unjustified. After having corrected the errors in the faulty code Sarah couldn't quite help herself from running her own program. The crew had been out in the Delta quadrant for over four years. When Starfleet was briefly, but surely, in touch with them through an alien relay system, Sarah had not received any news from home. She hadn't been expecting anything, but the emptiness was surprisingly bitter.
"Computer, start program Williams Three", she whispered, alone, surrounded by a blank grid, which became her living room as soon as the command was voiced. There was still a little time before her next task. She picked up a photo album from the shelf, sank into the couch, leafed through the pages of her parents, of herself as a child, the distance between her mother and father growing with every photograph, then a twelve year old Sarah, just before her mother left, her mother with her new boyfriend, her father's new wife with Sarah in front of the new replicator, Sarah not pleased, she was being told to smile for the camera. Her little brother now, alone, with her, with dad and Irene, stripy, scrawny, going on for gangly, and the pictures abruptly stop. He'd be twelve by now, she thought, reluctant to close the album. Other members of the crew had something from their homes in their quarters. Not her – a short mission my ass – she hardly packed enough underwear. This program, which she made from the files on her personal database, was the only thing linking her to home. Who could have suspected that, all these years later, they would still be very far away? And who would have thought, that instead of the chance to see someone dear, her family or her friends, she would wake up next to her own nightmare? Sarah still half-hoped that it was last night's 'special' in the mess hall which induced her visitor, but that hope was at best feeble, and at worst an outright lie. Her thoughts were interrupted: the combadge beeped and holo-time was up. She was needed in engineering.
"Ensign," said B'Elanna Torres, tapping her fingers on a console, "You're late."
From her history of working with the Chief Engineer, Sarah knew immediately that Torres was in a worse mood than usual.
"We have a problem," Torres said, and pointed to the warp core. At first Sarah thought it appeared to be functioning well. Within acceptable parameters, she said.
"Tell me Ensign," B'Elanna sighed, "Where in the manual does it say that it is acceptable for the core to sparkle?"
"Sparkle?!"
Under Torres's direction Sarah inspected the core and indeed saw a multitude of tiny stochastic flashes of light inside the reactor.
"Huh," she said, "That's not supposed to happen."
"Damn straight," Torres agreed, "It's as though someone's spiked my warp core with glitter, and it's your job to figure out how to get rid of it. This is engineering, not some retro disco party!"
"Uh," Sarah said, trying to keep her voice steady and even-pitched, "Is the glitter causing any malfunctions?"
B'Elanna, though irked by the warp core's new look, had to concede that there had been no effect on the ship's systems so far.
"I- I just have to look something up," Sarah said, and before B'Elanna could protest, darted out of engineering, to the turbolifts, and to her quarters in record time. Along the way, she passed several groups of crewmen talking of strange smells, sights and sounds, and quickly realised that her unwelcome guest had not remained as put as she had hoped.
Discussions of oddities on Voyager were not limited to crewman corridor chats on the lower decks.
"Hey Tom," the Chief Engineer began cautiously as she and her boyfriend finally managed to meet for lunch, "Have you noticed anything odd on the ship today?"
"What, is this some kind of joke?" Tom asked, bemused.
"I could swear I saw glitter in the warp core," she said in a low voice. "Hey, it isn't funny!"
"Good one," he wheezed between fits.
She punched his arm, "And that's not all! I heard a bird."
Tom now stopped laughing, "Are you feeling alright, B'Elanna?"
The commotion caught the attention of Voyager's former Borg crew member, Seven of Nine. Upon hearing the Chief Engineer talk of birds, she moved over to their table,
"I have no intention of disrupting your conversation," she began, "But Lieutenant Torres is correct."
"Seven?"
"I was in Astrometrics," Seven continued, "When I saw a bird in the corner of my ocular implant. It was an owl."
"Right," B'Elanna said, feeling vindicated, "That's what my bird sounded like."
Tom was confused.
"An owl, Ensign Paris," Seven repeated, "Tyto alba, to be precise."
B'Elanna clarified, "You know, too-wit-too-woo."
"Now that you mention it," Neelix cut in from his chef's counter, "I couldn't help but overhear what you were talking about-"
"Neelix!" the Captain called out, storming through the mess hall doors, "What's on the menu? There's glitter in my replicator."
"Perhaps these occurrences were caused by the space anomaly at zero six hundred?" Seven offered by way of explanation.
"Harry and Tuvok have been over the logs and found nothing," Janeway shrugged, "But we have to get to the bottom of this. I don't take glitter in my coffee."
When Sarah keyed in the code and entered her room she expected to find it empty, but he was already sitting on her desk, eating her apple, wearing her-
"What is that you've got on?!" she exclaimed, unsure whether to laugh or to cry.
"Whatever was lying around. I could take it off -" he smirked as Sarah waved her arms in protest, and went to replicate a more appropriate attire. He'd probably prefer something of a flamboyant nature. Not that she cared in the slightest what he preferred. She could just get him one of those overalls from the brig, and throw him in there.
Jareth impatiently pushed her indecisive hand away from the computer and produced something black and rather ordinary looking.
"You take too long," he huffed, and removed himself from her sight while he changed.
"Um," she said, her back to him, "So what exactly did you do while I was away?"
"Tour of the surroundings," he said.
She rolled her eyes. Couldn't even stay unseen for a few hours. Tour of the whole flipping ship.
"Some of the officers suspect something. You should have been more careful. There was too much glitter-"
"Speaking of being careful, Sarah…"
He now faced her, wearing what turned out to be a black bodysuit.
"Why exactly have you invited me to these dismal regions? And I don't just mean your Spartan quarters."
"What?" she spluttered, "I had nothing to do with this! And if you don't mind, pleasantries aside, maybe you'd better go. Goblin Kingdoms can't run themselves, and Goblin Kings shouldn't be in outer space."
It was as though Sarah knew that there was a snag in this plan. Surely, he would have already left by now…
"Ordinarily I'd only be too happy to oblige," Jareth admitted, "But there is a slight problem."
The snag was precisely what she had feared.
"What do you mean," she asked, "Why can't you go back? I wish the Goblin King would leave right now. There, it can't be that hard!"
But he was still there, eyes fixated on her.
"It's not so simple, love," he growled, "But I'll leave the working out to you."
Sarah's temper escalated and made its way to her head.
"Why not? Shouldn't you do whatever I say?"
"Should I really?"
Their argument escalated – Sarah was hot on the offensive and Jareth only too happy to retort and raise the stakes – until the door to her room slid open and Tuvok and the Captain were doused in verbal abuse not intended for them at all.
Sarah froze. Jareth composed himself almost immediately. Tuvok observed the scene with mild interest. Janeway, hands on her hips, was less than amused,
"And just what is going on here, Ensign Williams?"