Incorporeal Nightmare (Part 4)
A Voyager fanfic written by Lt Taya 17 Janeway
A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)
The mess hall was unusually quiet, noted Neelix, as he carried out a dish of his favorite homemade leola root stew. Perhaps it was due to the fact that everyone, scared stiff of stepping out of their rooms, were scrounging up replicator rations so that they could eat safely locked up in their quarters.
Naomi Wildman was the sole exception to this rule today. She sat forlornly by herself in one corner of the mess hall, looking downcast. Neelix walked over and placed the dish of stew in front of her. Naomi smiled up at him sadly, and said, "No thanks, I'm not feeling hungry."
This was cause for concern for Neelix, who immediately sat down beside her, sensing that she needed someone to talk to. "Where's your mother? Shouldn't you be in your room?"
Naomi shook her head. "My mum's working the late shift toady." She glanced out at the observation panels and sighed. "And my room's too quiet."
"It's very quiet here too," noted Neelix, looking around at the deserted mess hall.
"Yes, but I have you to talk to," replied Naomi.
Neelix smiled genuinely at her, feeling his heart warm at her words. "True," he conceded. 'What did you want to talk to me about?"
Naomi looked nervously around the mess hall, making sure it was totally empty before speaking. "It's about Seven," she whispered in sudden terror, "I think I know who killed her."
Neelix sat upright. This was news to him. "You do?"
Naomi nodded. "The day before the Delta Flyer left, I heard Seven talking with someone outside Astrometrics," she said. "I think she was talking to Tom Paris, and- he sounded upset."
Neelix thought over this for a while. 'You think he killed her?"
Naomi shrugged. "Someone killed her because she knew something they didn't want her to know," she whispered, her voice filled with dread. "And now I know something they don't want me to know…" Her voice broke in distress.
Neelix put his arm comfortingly over her shoulder. 'Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you," he consoled, hoping with all his might that he was right.
Naomi looked up at him. "I have to tell someone about it," she said. "But I don't know who I should-"
Neelix thought about this a moment, then an idea struck him. "I know just who you should talk to!" he said.
The doctor was alone in sickbay, adjusting the holographic controls for his new program as he thought carefully about the situation they were in. So far, he'd narrowed the list down to three main suspects- four actually, if Ha'agden was to be counted- and all of them happened to be members of the bridge crew. Janeway wasn't going to be happy about that.
The computer beeped softly, announcing that it was ready for the implementation of the new program. Ah, better. "Computer, activate program EMH-seven-alpha-one," he commanded.
The holographic projectors hummed to life, and Seven's image appeared before him. "Greetings, Doctor."
The doctor smiled sadly. "Greetings, Seven." He walked closer to her. "I've missed you."
Seven glanced at him, about to speak when the doors to Sickbay swished open, announcing the arrival of Naomi Wildman.
Naomi took in the sight of the Doctor speaking to the recently deceased Seven with a mixture of fear and surprise.
"Don't worry," soothed the doctor, "she's only a hologram."
Naomi nodded uneasily and made her way past the holoSeven and faced the Doctor. "She's very real."
The doctor nodded, beaming proudly for a moment, then his face resolved into a mournful countenance. "She is as close to the real thing as possible," he replied. 'I was thinking that… I could recreate her just like she was before." He watched fondly as the holographic Seven started exploring Sickbay. "She has the capability to evolve, to learn, to adapt…"
Naomi smiled a little. "Like you."
"Yes," mused the doctor. He glanced at holoSeven, now studying a padd she had picked up. "Do you think the crew would accept her as a person? If I decided to continue employing the hologram, that is," he added.
"I think they would," replied Naomi softly, "just as they accepted you."
The doctor smiled at her. "So, what brings you here?"
The question sobered Naomi's mood a little. She glanced at holoSeven, the pulled the doctor aside and motioned him to bend down a little. "I think I might know who could have killed her," she whispered emphatically into his ear.
The doctor straightened up and stared at her. "Are you sure?"
"It's a possibility," she said, and proceeded to describe in full detail the happenings on the night before the Delta Flyer was launched. The doctor listened with rapt attention, then frowned and began pacing Sickbay. "You think that Paris is behind all this?" he asked. "He doesn't seem the kind."
"It might be him. I'm not sure, but the voice sounded like him," said Naomi. "And even if it was him, he might not have been the killer."
"You do not think that he is the murderer?" queried the doctor.
Naomi thought for a moment. "I really don't think that anybody on this ship is killing people," she confessed softly. "None of us would."
"You think it is the ambassador, don't you," concluded the doctor.
Naomi nodded. "Maybe he's just being… being blamed for the murders," she suggested.
"Hmm. It's a possibility, I suppose," he said. "But all the evidence still points to him…" He trailed off as the holographic Seven of Nine strode up to him purposefully.
"It seems you have not been maintaining Sickbay well, Doctor," she said bluntly, just as the real Seven would have. "After preliminary scans I have found the resonance pulse emitters on two of the biobeds to be out of alignment. And," she continued disapprovingly, placing a white storage box of gloves on the diagnostics table, "I found this box of surgical gloves hidden under the one of the biobeds. I cannot comprehend how you can keep track of equipment in such a disorganized area." She concluded her admonishment with the amount of scorn only an ex-Borg could muster.
With a ghost of a smile on his face, the doctor looked at his two charges and concluded, "I believe I have to consult the captain before taking any further steps."
Later that night, Torres was being accompanied by Paris and Kim out of the mess hall after a late night coffee. To keep the conversation flowing and thus avoiding uncomfortable lapses of silence, Tom and Harry Kim were discussing the morbid topic that was topmost on everybody's mind.
"What really scares me is that the shuttle accident really sounds like one of those "worst-case scenario" holoprograms you had me help you with the night before," commented Harry. "I suppose you never got the chance to run them," he added. Harry sighed, his voice trembling a little. "If only you and Seven had run the program-"
"There's no time for regrets now," snapped Paris abruptly, interrupting Harry and shooting him a dangerous glare which Harry failed to catch. "It's just over."
Torres felt shocked by Tom's indifferent attitude to the death of a fellow crewmember, especially one whom they'd grown so close with in the past few years. "Tom-" she began, but she never got to complete her sentence.
'I think we've reached your quarters," he interrupted kindly but roughly. The doors swished open and he gestured for Torres to step inside. Harry gave him an odd glance.
B'Elanna could have stopped and argued with him about his abrupt change in behavior, but she suddenly felt too sick and tired to do so, and decided to comply with him. Stepping inside, she heard him call a half-hearted "Goodnight" to her before the doors slid close behind her. She walked forwards mechanically to her bed, and sank down on it, feeling drained of all energy. Somewhere deep within her, she felt a strange sick feeling forming and growing like some horrific alien disease, as she reviewed the past few day's experiences with Tom. She felt that he had changed, in manner and in appearance, somehow. She tried comparing her impressions of him a couple of days before, before she had found Carey's remains, and her impression of him just before she stepped into her quarters, and still couldn't put her finger on it. Was it something in his face? His hair? Yes, she decided, it was his hair, it seemed longer, somehow. And as for his manner… Torres shook her head. He's hiding something from me, she thought bitterly. And I hope it's not what I think it is….
"Are you sure this information is reliable?" asked the Captain, scanning through the monitor which displayed the doctor's report.
"Yes," replied the doctor glumly, frowning. "These are the three people who have had close contact with the four victims and the Ambassador in the past few days," he told her. "I have narrowed it down to three possibilities. " He tapped a few controls, and the captain's brow furrowed even more. "You think is one of them?" she asked.
"Honestly, no," he replied truthfully, "but the evidence present seems to point otherwise."
Janeway frowned. "Chakotay, Paris and Tuvok… This can't be." She began pacing thoughtfully. "And Paris…."
The ready room door chimed. "Come," she instructed, and the doors slid open, admitting Torres who was in her nightclothes and mussed hair. "Didn't sleep well, Lieutenant?" she asked.
Torres shook her head. "No, sir. I came to talk to you... about Tom."
Janeway was instantly alert. "Evidence?" she asked, taking Torres by the arm.
Torres shook her head tiredly. "No, a suspicion."
Janeway looked downcast. "Paris."
Torres nodded, settling into the chair Janeway had escorted her to. "It's just like... he's changed, inexplicably, over the past few days. His manner, the way he talks, even the way he looks! I just don't know what has come over him... even the death of four crew members shouldn't have affected him like this."
Janeway gave her chief engineer a long, meaningful look. "Or maybe we are just overreacting to all this. Maybe we're being paranoid."
'It's not paranoia, Captain," protested Torres strongly, "I know him too well to know that something's wrong."
"There is a possibility that the Marlok are framing him," suggested the doctor. "I do not think that Paris would be as incompetent as to leave a trail of evidence behind to convict him."
"He could either be very stupid… or very smart," countered Janeway, musing over the conundrum caused by this factor. "If he was very smart, he would leave a trail of evidence pointing to him, which may make us rule him out as a possible suspect in the light that he wouldn't be as stupid to do that."
"An intriguing idea," agreed the doctor. He paused for a moment, thinking, then turned to the captain, his demeanor suddenly animated. "I believe we have been waiting to long, Captain. We should now intensify our investigation and start flushing out more clues."
"Precisely what I was thinking of earlier," said Janeway. "I suggest to conduct a surprise check on the suspects' quarters to see if we can find anything."
"Like protective coverings, and private log entries," said the doctor, looking infinitely pleased with himself for bringing up the suggestion. "It is an excellent idea."
"We should start immediately," agreed Janeway. She took a sip from the steaming mug of coffee on her desk, and turned to Torres. "Lieutenant, I suggest you go back to your quarters and get some rest. I think we have a few busy days coming."
"If you have problems sleeping, I can prescribe some light amphetamines to assist you," added the doctor.
Janeway's commbadge chirped, and she answered it instantly. "Janeway here."
"Captain." It was Chakotay's voice, tense and strained. "We've made several attempts to contact Ambassador Ha'agden, but none have been successful. However, we have managed to attract the attention of Emissary Salissaj, who insists on speaking to you. She is currently awaiting an audience on the bridge."
Janeway rolled her eyes. "On my way. Janeway out." She stood up and nodded to the two. "This meeting is adjourned. Dismissed." She then quickly stepped out of her quarters, preparing to head for the bridge, and heard the doors sliding shut behind her like the doors of Hell slamming her to her doom.
As Janeway stepped onto the bridge, she noticed that it was sparsely crewed by three of their senior crew, the precise three which the doctor had narrowed down to in the suspect list. The latter fact sent a peculiar tingling sensation down her spine, which was part apprehension and part disbelief at her apprehension.
As she exited the turbolifts, Emissary Salissaj and Chakotay were already having a heated conversation as to why the Voyager was still in orbit around Lukas IV, of which she only managed to catch the last few words.
"-poses a great threat to your ship and your crew!" exclaimed Salissaj. She took note of Janeway's appearance and nodded. "Ah, it seems that your Captain has arrived. Perhaps I can talk more sense into her."
"Emissary Salissaj," addressed Janeway. "State your purpose in contacting us."
Salissaj looked mildly surprised at Janeway's directness. "We came here, again, to warn you from staying near the planet so long. Already it has cost you the life of four crewmembers. Would you want more to die?"
Janeway frowned at her. "How did you get this information?"
"How we obtained it is inconsequential," dismissed Salissaj off-handedly. 'News travels fast on our planet. We have also monitored the communiqués between your two cultures, and have noted your repeated attempts to contact the Marlok Ambassador," she added. "I would not advise you to. Not only is it dangerous and foolhardy, but it is also wasting your time. The Ambassador will not contact you."
Heat rose in Janeway's cheeks at Salissaj's inflammatory remarks, but she fought to keep her anger under control. "Where is the Ambassador, then?" she asked. "Are you keeping him in custody?"
Salissaj looked shocked at the prospect. "No, no, that is not our way. We have to reason to detain him. The official report has it that he is in hiding for fear of the Wrath of The Cloud, but our inside sources tell us that he is in hiding, hatching more of his twisted plans."
Janeway's lips twisted up in a slight smirk. "How can you expect us to trust the testimonial of a culture which spies on other people's communications routinely?" There is more to this woman than meets the eye, thought Janeway, and if I press harder I might get close to the real truth.
Salissaj was rather thrown off by this remark. For a moment, her proud demeanor slipped, revealing something more vulnerable, something tinged with sorrowful remorse, underneath. "We did it out of necessity, Janeway of Starfleet," she said, voice trembling. "Under similar circumstances, you might consider it a wise tactical move. We were only trying to protect your vessel…."
Janeway raised a skeptical eyebrow, unimpressed.
"I would tend to agree with her, Captain," voiced Tuvok from the back of the bridge. Janeway turned to him, looking surprised. "It would be the logical thing to do," he explained.
Janeway looked perturbed, and turned back to the viewscreen, where Salissaj had once again regained her smooth composure. "I could help you, Janeway of Starfleet," she said softly. "I can give you information on the Marlok and Ambassador Ha'agden, with your permission."
Janeway paused, considering her options. Could she trust Salissaj enough to take the information? A hunch told her that she would be able to find out a lot more from the information that Salissaj would provide for them, no matter how misleading it might be. She could then make an informed guess… "All right, permission granted."
Salissaj nodded. "I'll begin transferring the required files right away," she said. "End transmission."
As the viewscreen faded to the black view of the stars, Janeway knew the time for action had come. "Lieutenant Tuvok, Ensign Paris, come with me. Have a Security team meet me outside Deck Four, Section Nine. Commander, you have the bridge," she said, striding to the turbolift.
"It's time we had a little spot-check."