Tom, Chakotay, and Tuvok all stood in a line, the rain on their faces like the mists of a tepid shower. The holo-Nazi firing squad were ready to shoot, with only the wet pavement keeping Starfleet from having to lie down in a ditch.
They had pulled B'Elanna to the side and would only spare her life because she was "carrying" a German child.
"Your deaths will serve the glory of the Reich," the Nazi commander declared. "Prepare to fire."
The collective sound of a half-dozen rifles clacking made Tom blame himself for not getting to Seven's photonic grenade on time. He didn't want to die like this; a victim of his own hesitation. If he had only realized that Seven was shot two seconds earlier, he would have saved them all.
Thunder echoed through the chaotic sky, carrying the battle cry of three dozen Klingon warriors through the streets of Saint Clair. They stormed the barricades, baring bat'leths and shouting, "Today is a good day to die!", "Quapla!", and "Glory to the Kuvah'magh!"
Whatever the hell that meant.
When the Nazi's turned to fire on the warriors, Chakotay and Tuvok went right for the guns while the Klingons hacked at the Nazi soldiers with their bat'leths. Blood filled the streets and water carried it to the gutters.
And for the honor of the woman he loved, Tom stalked right up behind the Nazi commander and yanked him around by his shoulder. The Nazi didn't even see it coming when Tom's fist impacted with his snotty, pure-German face.
The Nazi's reaction was quick. He rolled with it, then drew his arm back and swung.
Tom doubled over in pain when the Nazi's knuckles landed in his gut. He choked and gasped when the holo-Nazi's clammy fingers wrap tightly around his neck. He could feel himself being lifted off the ground. Not willing to fall into the error of hesitation again, Tom drove both his hands right into the hologram's diaphragm. The Nazi gasped and dropped him.
Tom took full advantage and swung again. The Nazi was too quick to react. He blocked him with his right, then nailed Tom hard in the spleen with his left.
Pain ripped through Tom's rib cage and the Nazi didn't give him a second to recover. Again, the Nazi rammed him square in the jaw. Tom spun on impact and landed on the pavement, face down.
When Tom twisted back over, the Nazi had reached for the handgun in his holster to finish him off; to shoot an unarmed man like the worm he was programmed to be. It must have been fate when the Klingon warrior ran up behind the Nazi and pounded him to the ground with one quick, bone-shattering blow.
Tom stumbled to his feet and out of the way, then turned back in time to see the Klingon bringing his bat'leth straight down into the Nazi's torso. Blood splattered everywhere.
Just what that son-of-a-bitch deserved.
By the hand of a real Klingon warrior, Tom's lover had been avenged.
xxx
B'Elanna withdrew from Tom's mind enough for them to settle back into the reality of their situation.
"He was a hologram." She hated herself for sounding so angry, but she couldn't stop herself. "There was nothing real about that Klingon." She never tried to put any such burden on Tom. He did it to himself. The idea that somehow he thought he had to live up to any Klingon standard pissed her off. Royally.
Tom shook his head. He couldn't look at her. You can't change who you are and what you desire… His mind flashed back to the moment she had bit him in the face just hours before.
She shivered. Oh, how she wanted Tom to take her like a Klingon would, and he had tried in the past so many times. But, as part of Voyager he could never...
"You can't even remember who you are and what you desire," she countered. It was none of his business anyway. All things Klingon were better left buried.
The surge of embarrassment and agonized moan from Tom jarred her from her selfish reflection. He was so exhausted. So vulnerable. She could feel his mind regress back into chaos; as though he were being pulled apart into infinite directions.
"Sorry. I-I didn't mean to…"
He slid down the wall and tightly hugged his knees to his chest. His claustrophobia was setting in, as though every wall on Voyager were imploding towards the one spot where he curled into a fetal ball.
She had to get him the hell out of there...
xxx
Kathryn and Tuvok stood off to the side while Seven efficiently prepared her alcove for their plan. The Doctor hovered nearby, pacing, and every once in a while offering quick suggestions as though trying to prove his superior intelligence. Seven was such a good sport, diplomatically taking it all in stride.
"Tuvok," Kathryn broke the awkward silence.
"Yes, Captain?"
"This wasn't your fault."
"Indeed. Since I was not thinking clearly at the time, accepting blame would be illogical. However, I still believe I am responsible for the safety of Mr. Paris."
Kathryn had suspected it to be so. She glanced over in time to catch the Doctor rolling his eyes.
Seven looked up from her work. "It's ready, Commander." She walked over to Tuvok. "Please understand that this will only be an empathic link. Do you think you will be able to discern any resolution of Lieutenant Paris' condition on that level?"
"The pon farr is usually resolved during a moment of pon feh shaukaush. I believe an empathic link will be sufficient."
"Pon feh shauk-what?"
"An orgasm, Captain," said the Doctor. "He will be able to detect a resolution when Mr. Paris blows his…"
"Thank you, Doctor."
Seven motioned for Tuvok to step into her alcove. "Are you ready?"
Tuvok took his place and nodded once. "Proceed."
Like a vampire on her prey, Seven pushed Tuvok's head to the side to expose his vulnerable neck to her.
"Seven, no!" Kathryn sprinted the distance between them before Seven's tubules shot out. She grabbed Seven by her wrist and yanked her away from her security officer. "You didn't tell us this would involve nanoprobes."
Seven quickly regained her composure. "My apologies, Captain. I thought it was generally understood that the neural link needs to be filtered through my central cortical implant to suppress the violent emotions associated with the condition. If Commander Tuvok's control is disrupted, it would be as though he had never melded with Lieutenant Paris in the first place..."
Kathryn sighed deeply and wondered why everything had to be so damn complex. "...and since you're the only person with a cortical implant…"
"...he needs the nanoprobes to filter and process the data through it."
Kathryn just hated dealing with nanoprobes and all the risks involved. "Is there another way, Seven?"
Seven opened her mouth to respond.
"I'll do it," came the Doctor's voice instead. He stepped towards them, his confident stride holding their attention captive.
"You'll…. what?" Kathryn blinked.
"Seven, download me into your cortical implant so I can help save my patients." His voice was damn intense.
"I am not comfortable experiencing that sensation with you in my body."
"It would be like my food binge, Seven. You would be aware of it, but you won't actually feel it since I would be the dominant personality during the encounter. And since my holomatrix can't interact with the neural link directly without it decompiling my program, I can't think of a better alternative plan."
Seven let out deep sigh. "Very well, then."
Without pretense, she reached out for the Doctor's mobile emitter and shot her tubules into it. After a quick moment, the Doctor disintegrated and Seven's stiff demeanor changed. Her muscles relaxed and a devilish smirk spread across her normally restrained features.
"Well, don't dream it," she said. "Be it."
xxx
"Well, it's a good thing the Doc's policy is to never clean up after Tom. Otherwise, we'd have to explain why it looks like we ransacked the place."
Neelix looked over at Harry from his stash of hypos. "We did ransack the place."
"Yeah, well, I better not take the fall for this. I don't even think Chakotay would have our backs if this caused a shipwide panic."
"If you don't want to help then I'll just do it myself. The worse that could happen has already happened."
"No, Neelix. The worse that could happen would be Tom and B'Elanna finding out about your little food fight with Vorik which…"
"...will probably happen no matter what we do."
Harry nodded in honest agreement. "Right, so the second best thing would be to get the crew thinking this crisis is over a mutated virus scare. Got your stuff?"
Neelix pet his shoulderbag full of hypos and gave Harry a quick nod. "Ready." Neelix turned to the door that led to the deck-five-battleground-of-deception when, to his annoyance, it whooshed open to admit Billy Telfer.
"Oh…" said Neelix.
"...crap." Harry finished for him.
xxx
B'Elanna turned off the shower and crouched next to Tom. "C'mon, Tom." She reached for him and he flinched. He no longer understood what was happening to him.
"I'm going to get you out of here," she promised.
She reached out a second time and caught him by his arms. He recoiled, forcing himself into the one spot where he shivered on the shower floor.
"I'm gonna get you out of here," she repeated. "Look at me."
Tom opened his eyes. So many colors...
"What?" B'Elanna tried to understand why he expected to see something else. "You're delirious. C'mon, stand up." She pulled him into a standing position and leaned him against the shower wall. "Arms up." She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side.
He opened his eyes again. Sending her another surge of anxiety through their neural link.
Why was he so agitated about seeing color?
She pushed his pants to his ankles. "C'mon, Tom. Step out." He stumbled to the point where he almost fell, but she caught him in time. His knees would give at any second if she didn't get him to move.
Tom? Who is Tom?
B'Elanna did a quick double take, but rather than argue about his delirium-induced identity crisis, she kicked his drenched pants out of the way and sized him up, holding him against the wall in a standing position.
He looked right at her, his eyelids at half-mast. Queen Arachnia, you're pheromones will not deter me. I will thwart your evil plan to take over planet ten...
"Oh, no…"
