"I can't shoot you." I was almost at a loss for words. How was this an acceptable alternative? "At least if we both walk out of here, nobody else will die."
"You don't know that, Kathryn." Chakotay warned, "He never said we'd be safe here. For all we know, we'd all be subjected to endless rounds of this game until the whole crew is gone." That was true… I hadn't even considered the possibility. "You have to get them home."
"I can't do that." I insisted, though something told me he was right. It would be better for the majority of people involved if I chose the shoot my first officer. That's what a good captain would do. But what about a good friend? "What would I say if we did make it home? That I'd murdered you for the sake of the ship?"
"Yes! I'm considered a criminal anyways."
"That doesn't make it right!" I wasn't even sure if I could bring myself to physically go through with the act. Then, an idea blossomed in my mind. "Shoot me instead."
"That wasn't an option, my dear woman." The host cut in, "One minute remaining to decide." If we let the time run out, I was willing to bet that the alien would just as soon have us both shot and killed. What did it matter to him? Chakotay was right; it'd be selfish of me to ground the entire crew just to save one life. Chakotay and I silently looked to each other. I was just stalling, postponing the inevitable. Praying that someone would swoop in and save me from having to do anything more.
"Kathryn, I-" Chakotay started, but didn't have a chance to finish. His attention had been diverted to a red stain that was growing in the middle of his chest that followed the sound of a loud snap. The light grey undershirt did little to hide the blood that was freely oozing from the wound. Chakotay's eyes met mine for what we knew was the last time, before they rolled back and he slumped forward against the table, unable to complete his sentence. Hands now shaking wildly, I dropped the pistol. Keep yourself together, I told myself. Starfleet captains didn't cry in public, especially not front of alien races. And especially not after shooting and killing their first officers. Oh Jesus, what had I done? Had there been another alternative that we'd failed to see? Could this have been prevented?
"Bravo, bravo." The host rose now, summoning for the assistants to come and take the body away. "Well played. For a minute there, I thought you were going to go the other way. But I knew you'd come around in the end." Forcing me to my feet, shaking my hand vigorously when all I could offer was a limp flick of the wrist. "I can tell you two were very close, but you made the right decision." Had I really? Looking around the room, I could see the blood splatted in the various places where my officers had died. Many of them in order to protect me. It wasn't right! I should have been the first to die! What kind of captain was I? Could I even stand to call myself that anymore? I'd let them down. I'd failed. The longer I stood there, the worse I felt.
"I think I'd like to leave now, if you'll allow it."
"Certainly. Right this way." The host ushered me through the other door, into a long hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. There were no other room, except for whatever lie on the other side of the door all the way at the end of the hall. I didn't exactly trust that the alien would deliver on any of his promises, but it didn't matter. I wasn't afraid anymore. If he was going to kill me, so be it. Not to say that I wanted to die, but I was tired of constantly checking to make sure both of his hands were unoccupied.
Through the door was a morgue of sorts. All the dead bodies for my former officers lie on silver slabs, facing upwards. They were arranged in the order in which they'd died. Still fully clothed and covered in blood (some more than others). I asked the Host then if we could at least take the bodies back, in order to give them a proper Starfleet funeral service. The alien evaded my question, saying instead that I was almost there. Almost where? A transporter room perhaps? We paused in front of the door, the Host suddenly looking a little uneasy.
"Before we continue on, I think we should talk."
"About what?" Nothing would surprise me at this point. Was he going to admit to being a serial killer? Try to imprison me for the murder of my crewmates? Propose?
"I'd like to introduce myself properly." A small chuckle. "My name is Jevan." He offered out a hand but this time, I didn't shake it. Knowing his real name (if it really was his real name) changed nothing. "You and your officers have been filmed tonight for public use. The entertainment industry here is very cutthroat; we have to come up with unique ideas if we want to make it anywhere. This program is very popular, but unfortunately relies solely on outsiders like yourself, who have no idea how the game works."
"That's sick." I found myself echoing the thoughts that Harry had previously voiced.
"Maybe." Jevan shrugged, getting out a key now to unlock the door in front of us. "I have a feeling that your episode will be very appealing to viewers; it was quite emotionally driven. Sometimes we get brutes who would kill without a second thought and sometimes we get peace-kissing cultures who refuse to do anything. It can get quite boring." I rolled my eyes, refusing to further engage in such talk. I wasn't there for anybody's amusement. Jevan opened the door and held it open, allowing me to step inside. I froze, incapable of comprehending the sight before me. All of my officers walked about, talking and breathing and just living. It was a circular room, with beds lining the walls. Chakotay was just sitting up in one of them, rubbing his temple as Tuvok and Tom spoke to him in hushed tones.
"B'Elanna!" I cried, launching myself towards the nearest person. The engineer didn't so much as look at me. I tried to make contact with her again with no luck.
"They can't hear you, Kathryn." Jevan was suddenly by my side. I reached out to touch the half-Klingon, but my hand went right through her shoulder. "As far as they're concerned, we don't exist." What was that supposed to mean? "We've developed a most advanced system of virtual reality. You're still inside the computer system, which is why they can't sense you." Maybe he could tell I was still skeptical, because he then pulled me away from the officer and towards a pair of beds.
"That's me…" It was unimaginably unnerving to see one's own form strapped down to a bed, unfamiliar device wrapped tightly around the forehead. Perhaps this was another game… some sort of test to see if I really deserved to win. In the bed next to 'mine', there was an older gentlemen who looked rather like… "You-"
"The real me." Jevan admitted. "Yes, I've been hosting these games for a great many seasons. It's easier for the audience if my virtual form remains unchanging throughout the years."
"So none of it really happened." I wasn't sure I bought it. I mean we had the holodeck, but this was different.
"Oh it certainly happened, just not on your physical form. The devices," He pointed to the things on our bodies heads, "allow us to transmit signals directly to your brain, stimulating all sorts of responses. The pain and emotion you experienced while playing was real, in a sense. You understand why you had to keep you in the dark, so to speak; you had to really believe there was danger in order for the game to be played out properly." At a loss for words or ideas, I simply stared down at my other self. "Forgive me, this must be terribly disorienting. I'll return you now, see you in a moment." Before I had time to question his words, the world suddenly went dark, eyes suddenly closed. When I opened them, I found that I was now the person strapped down to the bed, a strange pressure squeezing at my head and giving off a prickly sort of sensation. A groan slipped through my mouth and my officers were suddenly at my side, speaking too many different words for me to comprehend at once. The devices and straps were removed and I was able to sit up, head still spinning.
"It wasn't re-" Tom started, but I quickly cut him off with a wave of a hand.
"I know. He explained." Thought not clearly enough. I was seriously supposed to believe it'd all been virtual? We'd been through some pretty weird things here in the Delta Quadrant, but I was still struggling to wrap my mind around it all. I'd thought they'd all died… I was supposed to just pretend none of it had happened? I could still taste the j'Karr, hear the sound the whip made across Harry's back, feel the wet strands of hair clinging to my face even though in this reality it was dry.
"Hello again." The alien drew our attention back to himself, slowly climbing down from the bed. "How are we feeling?" None of us answered, but it did little to deter him. "That was fun, wasn't it?"
"Hardly." I snarled.
"Too bad. I'd love it if you'd stay and try some of our other games." The alien insisted, "They're a little less theatric of course, but they can be fun with the right group."
"We're in a hurry to get home. Thank you for the offer, though." Diplomatic.
"Fair enough. You'll be compensated greatly for playing along, of course. I wasn't lying about the energy for your replicator. Anything else you need- bio-neural gel packs, warp plasma, spare parts- anything at all, we'd be happy to pay you in full." The best news I'd heard all day. The only good news as of late.
"Tuvok, can you manage the negotiations?" I didn't think I could stand to talk to the alien much more without completely ripping into him for threatening our lives like that.
"Certainly." The Vulcan nodded, not questioning why I'd passed up the opportunity. Jevan took Tuvok back into the main building in order to make the arrangements. With the mastermind gone, the crew visibly relaxed. I saw that B'Elanna and Tom were engaged in an intense conversation that ended in a quick kiss, a rare public display of affection from the pair. Seven looked quite content to stand there in silence, while Neelix nervously paced about the room, anxious to get back. Chakotay came and stood next to my bed.
"Are you alright?" He softly asked, after a moment.
"I could ask you the same question. You're the one who died." You're the one who I shot. Chakotay just smiled and neither of us answered because neither of us were alright. "I'm sorry I had to do that."
"I know." Nothing more, nothing less. I wondered if it had hurt, like really hurt. Not just the wound, but dying. They'd all experienced it except me. I knew it was silly, but I felt like I'd missed out on something. Like the odd (wo)man out.
"You were saying something before." His half-completed sentence suddenly busted to fire in my mind and I knew that I had to know. "What was it?"
"It's not important anymore." Chakotay averted my gaze, instead deciding to take the moment to pan the room. I suspected what the words were, but I didn't put them into his mouth. He could blame it on the near-death experience. Or was it a death experience? It wasn't long afterwards that Tuvok returned, successful with the negotiations. We wouldn't have to make any pit stops for at least another month if we rationed things wisely. Good, I didn't want to have to stop anywhere near this godforsaken planet. The proper thing to do would be to have a meeting and debrief everyone, discuss what we'd been through, but it just didn't feel right. We'd all been there. Most of us knew all that had happened, through one way or another. It seemed best just to give everyone some time.
It was weeks before my nightmares quieted, though I heard that for others it took longer. Tuvok had spent an entire week in solitary meditation, eventually requesting a short relief from duty in order to pursue whatever conclusion he'd come to. Seven had developed a sort of water-phobia that prevented her from even drinking a glass of water for the longest time. Harry wouldn't turn around to access the consoles at the back of his station, in fear of leaving his back exposed. As for the others, I'm sure there were effects they didn't let show through. I never did find out what it was that Chakotay was going to say. Most of us had effectively pushed the experience to the back of our minds until one duty shift, when a young ensign had come up to the bridge to ask for my opinion on something.
"Captain!" She handed me a PADD that contained potential menus for a party we were throwing in the upcoming week. "Neelix asked me to come up with a good recipe for the meat, but I'm not sure what goes better with the side dishes. Would you rather have steak or chicken?" It was like the entire air on the bridge had changed. All involved officers tensed, both at the wording and the food option.
"Chicken." I hoarsely replied, forcing myself to answer in the most polite way I could muster. "I'm sure Neelix would agree." Unaware of the discomfort, the ensign thanked me and returned down to the lower decks. We shared in a nervous laughter, probably never going be able to hear those words again without a similar reaction. If that's what it took to consider the consequences of our decisions, fine. As long as it didn't get anyone killed. Again.
A/N: I know it's a bit of a cop out, but I couldn't stand to leave them all dead haha. I'd love some feedback on it, but otherwise thanks for reading! :)