Voyager and the Bug – Chapter 4
Janeway had donned a new uniform gingerly after thoroughly scanning it with a tricorder and hitting it with a few low-powered phaser bursts to make sure that it was what it appeared to be. She looked at herself in the mirror, shaking her head. 'At least I had decent underwear on,' she thought wryly. Her comm badge chirped as she was fixing it to her uniform.
"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."
"Janeway here."
"We have located the polymorph and contained it within a force field in sick bay."
"Good work, Tuvok. I'll decide what to do with it in the morning. Have Mr. Lister sent to my ready room, now. Janeway out."
The Captain headed towards the doors of her quarters, her face set in a stony expression that spelled trouble for Voyager's latest guests.
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"Let me make certain that I'm hearing you correctly, Mr. Lister," said Janeway, her tone calm yet deadly. "You suspected that possibly the polymorph might have been aboard your ship, yet you thought it would be ok to transport over here without even mentioning it?" Her emphasised words dripped with sarcasm and Lister shifted uncomfortably as he wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffed.
"But I didn't really know, Captain, and I just thought that…"
"You thought? Pardon me, Mr. Lister, but there doesn't appear to have been much thought at all on your part. You put my ship and my crew at risk, and that is unacceptable. No," she continued, holding up a hand as the scruffy man started to speak, "I don't want any excuses. What I want from you, what I need, is an assurance that this will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?"
Lister raised his head and lifted his gaze from the floor, meeting Janeway's steely-grey eyes. Embarrassment wasn't usually part of his emotional repertoire but he felt it keenly now as he faced this impressive, commanding (and very hot) woman.
"It won't happen again, Captain. Can you forgive us?" he added cheekily with a hint of a grin. There was a long pause before finally Janeway smiled – a little frostily, thought Lister, but definitely a smile.
"Of course, Mr. Lister. This time. Now, shall we return to the party and try to enjoy the rest of the evening, without any…further incidents?"
Janeway rose from her chair and gestured Lister towards the ready room doors, and he exited the room gladly.
On his return to the holodeck Lister immediately sought out Rimmer, who was clearly out of his depth in a conversation with Harry Kim about the simpler aspects of Voyager's propulsion system. Rimmer hastily excused himself when he spotted his shipmate approaching.
"Everything tickety-boo?" enquired Rimmer, noting with glee Lister's red-faced expression. Lister glared at him.
"Yes, no thanks to you. You could've come along, you know, moral support and all that."
"Ah well, Listy, someone had to stay here to represent Red Dwarf, and I don't think Cat and Kryten are up to the task," he replied smugly, pulling down his blue uniform shirt and puffing out his chest. "Give you a good telling-off, did she?"
"Yeah. I promised not to do it again though." Lister was watching Janeway chat to her fellow officers with a somewhat wistful curl of the mouth, but Rimmer was too busy working at one-upmanship that he didn't notice.
"Er, so you promised not to accidentally bring aboard another shape-changing life form disguised as a packet of Marlboroughs? Bit of a stretch there, but I think you'll manage it," Rimmer said briskly, clapping Lister on the shoulder. Lister flashed a sarcastic grin at the hologram, then a more serious note entered his voice.
"D'you think they've got any cigarettes on board?" he half-whispered, glancing around furtively (but ineffectively) to check he wasn't being overheard. Rimmer snorted.
"Oh yes, I'm sure they have tons of them, in fact they probably smoke them every night, then run to their holographic doctor every morning for lung repairs," sniggered Rimmer, then seeing his friend's confused face he added "No, of course not. These people are enlightened, intelligent human beings, unlike you, Lister. They'd no sooner smoke than run each other through with poison-tipped spears. Looks like you're going cold turkey, miladdo."
Rimmer walked away, laughing, and Tom Paris sidled out from behind a wooden pillar where he had been lurking.
"So, the Captain gave you a hard time, huh? Don't worry about it; everyone's been in her bad books occasionally. Now, how about a game of pool, and we can swap some adventure stories?"
Janeway watched as Lister and Paris racked up the balls, chatting and laughing together, and she leaned over to speak quietly to her first officer.
"Those two make me nervous," Janeway observed. "It's like trouble waiting to happen. There's just something about that Lister character that I don't trust." She smiled, dampening the seriousness of her remark. Chakotay nodded slowly.
"I know what you mean," he agreed, "he's a lot like the lieutenant when you first recruited him. We've managed to tame Paris – well, almost. I wonder if the same could happen with Mr. Lister, in time."
Janeway held up a hand as if physically pushing away this idea. "I don't plan on finding out. Once their ship is repaired and we figure out where they came from and how to get them back, I'm sending them on their merry way." She exhaled quickly, then took a sip from a glass of pale pink liquid she held.
"I mean," continued the Captain, "it's not just him. What about the others?" She gestured towards the Cat, who was preening himself as he looked into one of the mirrors behind the bar. "That one has hardly left Seven-of-Nine alone since he came on board. It's like he's never seen a woman before!"
"He probably hasn't," interjected Chakotay, but Janeway was in full flow.
"And the hologram. I'm sure he means well, but although he dresses like an officer he certainly doesn't act like one. I wouldn't trust him to scrub a plasma conduit, let alone repair a whatever-it-was that exploded on Red Dwarf."
"Drive plate," Chakotay interrupted once again, almost apologetically.
"Now the mechanoid, he's no Mr. Data obviously, but with a bit of Starfleet training he could be useful, even if only as a kitchen porter or a medical orderly…" Janeway's monologue tailed off as she watched Paris and Lister complete their game. She couldn't tell who had won, and didn't much care, but when the two men shook hands Lister winked at the Voyager officer and the two left the holodeck.
"Chakotay, should I send security to follow them, or am I being paranoid?"
"You're being paranoid, Kathryn. Tom is a reliable officer; I'm sure he'll watch our visitor."
In the Mess Hall, Paris and Lister were enjoying a particularly fine sample of Gkarian brandy that Neelix had acquired recently without going to the trouble of listing it on any purchase manifest. Both men downed their glass in one then coughed and spluttered as the potent liquid seared their throats. They dissolved into hysterical laughter that only served to make them cough even harder. Lister wiped his eyes with a grimy sleeve.
"Reminds me of the Schnapps we used to get on Jupiter station. That didn't half pack a punch. Not as much as the time me and Petersen brewed up those potatoes on Red Dwarf, though, couldn't see for a week. We told Captain Hollister that Rimmer'd poisoned us 'cause we were being too noisy, what a laugh that was!"
Paris eyed his new friend curiously. "You really don't like him, do you?"
Lister contemplated this for a moment, rolling his glass between his palms. "Oh, he's not so bad," Lister admitted finally. "Bit of a smeg-head, y'know, but I mean he is dead, isn't he? If he'd just chill out a little, have some fun, but no – it's all about rules and regulations with him."
"I know what you mean. That describes pretty much everyone on Voyager, Dave. Directives this, protocol that."
"Not you, though?"
Paris grinned. "Me too, I'm afraid. Janeway has a way of making people more responsible, somehow. She gave me a chance after I thought I'd messed up completely. Speaking of which, we'd better get back to the holodeck or she'll send out a search party." The lieutenant groaned as he eased himself out of his chair, feeling the immediate effects of the strong alcohol.
"Can I just get a coffee?" asked Lister, nodding at the replicator with an innocent smile.
"Sure," replied Paris. "Help yourself. I've got to use the bathroom, so I'll see you back on the holodeck." He wobbled slightly as he approached the doors. They swished open and he disappeared from view. Immediately, Lister straightened and sprang up, rubbing his hands together and stepping in front of the replicator.
"Cigarettes, please," he ordered. A light flashed on the display then a single pathetic beep sounded.
"Cigarettes," repeated Lister, more insistently. The light flashed again, then the computer's toneless voice sounded.
That item is not in the replicator database.
Lister stared, perplexed. They hadn't heard of cigarettes? "Cigars, then," he demanded, as though sheer force of will would help.
That item is not in the replicator database.
"Are cigarettes in any of your databases?" asked Lister sarcastically. He was pleasantly surprised by the answer.
The historical database contains approximately two hundred and eight thousand entries on that subject.
"Does it say what they're made of?"
Cigarettes consist of tobacco made from the dried leaves of plants of the genus Nicotiana, wrapped in a -
"Yeah, yeah, stop! Can you make some?"
Affirmative.
Lister banged his head several times against the wall. "Well do it, then!" he shouted with the unique exasperation of a nicotine addict deprived for too long. The replicator hummed and several cigarettes appeared as if by magic, though they looked to Lister more like oversized, badly-rolled spliffs. He picked one up and sniffed it experimentally before pulling a lighter out of one pocket. Flicking it, the cigarette caught alight and Lister took a long, satisfying drag, sinking back down into a chair and closing his eyes.
"Have you ever dated a cat before?" It was Cat's latest attempt to engage Seven in conversation. He had tried all his favourite topics – food, shiny things, fish, clothes – to no avail.
"I have not," replied the former Borg shortly. "Furthermore, I have no wish to. I think I shall retire now," she added, the last part aimed at the Doctor who had come over to rescue his friend only to be talked at by Rimmer, whose sole conversation with him revolved around how terrible it was to be a hologram.
"Oh, don't go, baby! We were just getting to know each other." Cat nudged up playfully against Seven, who regarded him with distaste.
"I think that's enough, Mr. Cat," the Doctor interrupted, sensing a diplomatic incident in the making and politely yet firmly steering the amorous feline away from a grateful Seven. Cat turned to Kryten, seated on a stool at the bar trying to look casual but looking as out-of-place as a washing machine in a sauna.
"Can't blame a cat for trying," he grinned, apparently unperturbed by Seven's cool response. Kryten nodded.
"Not at all, Sir. I think she might be starting to like you."
Cat eyed the mechanoid suspiciously. "Well anyway," he drawled, "where's old monkey-face got to?"
Rimmer, annoyed by the departure of his fellow hologram without even a goodbye, butted in. "Presuming you mean Lister, he was playing pool a minute ago with that boy-racer, what's his name, Berlin -"
"Paris, Sir," said Kryten, and Rimmer paused long enough to scowl.
"But I can't see him now. The idiot's probably gone looking for cigarettes. Look, there's Paris now." Rimmer pointed towards the doors where the lieutenant had just entered, alone. The three Red Dwarf crewmembers watched with amusement as almost immediately Captain Janeway descended on the unsuspecting officer, with Chakotay trotting behind. The exchange gradually increased in volume until -
"You did what?!" Janeway exclaimed, shaking her head. "And you left him there?!"
Paris looked around at the gaping mouths of their audience and grimaced. Rimmer couldn't hear his muttered words, but although Janeway's voice had reduced by a couple of dozen decibels her reply to his placations still rang out clearly.
"I suppose we can all be thankful for that. Where is he now?" As the words left the Captain's mouth a voice sounded from her comm badge.
"Bridge to the Captain. I'm reading an environmental contamination in the Mess Hall. No serious risk indicated, Captain."
Janeway looked daggers at Tom Paris. "Never mind," she snarled. She tapped her badge viciously as the entire population of Sandrine's looked on.
"Janeway here. I'll handle this." She turned, beckoning to Tuvok who was waiting attentively nearby. "Tuvok, take a security team to the Mess Hall and escort Mr. Lister to the brig. I won't object if you have to use force!"
"Captain, surely his misdemeanour is insufficient to warrant-" The Vulcan saw Janeway's eyes flash and sensibly stopped talking, nodding his assent and hurrying off without further talk.
When she turned towards Chakotay, the First Officer didn't hesitate.
"Alright folks, party's over. Go back to your quarters and resume normal duty shifts from 08:00 hours. You too, Tom," he added sympathetically, for he knew that in the morning the young officer would have a serious grilling to contend with.
"Shall I speak to Mr. Lister, Captain?" asked Chakotay. Janeway shook her head and moved away, towards the distinctly uncomfortable-looking Rimmer. Ignoring the other two, the Captain walked right up to the hologram and stood inches away. Rimmer jumped back a little before clearing his throat officiously.
"Well, Captain, Janeway, no doubt Lister will be adequately disciplined for whatever it is that he's done? Good for you, what ho, make him think twice next time."
"There. Will. Not. Be. A. Next. Time." Each word was enunciated as sharply as cut glass, and the colour slowly drained from Rimmer's holographic cheeks as Janeway continued. "This is your last chance. I have been very patient, Mr. Rimmer. But I assure you, if any of you so much as breathes the wrong way, I will put you in your ship – repaired or not – and leave you on the nearest M-class planet for the Borg, or the Hirogen, or whoever-the-hell-else to come along, and hopefully Mr. Lister will prove as much of a headache for them as he has for me!"
Janeway turned on her heels sharply without waiting for a reply and marched from the holodeck, leaving her First Officer to smooth things over with as much diplomacy as he could muster.