Incorporeal Nightmare (Part 6)
A Voyager fanfic written by Lt Taya 17 Janeway
The mood of the conference room was a mixture between disbelief and distaste. Ambassador Ha'agden and Emissary Salissaj were both seated at the end of the table, eyes downcast, not looking at each other, while a phalanx of security guards were stationed around, watching carefully for any signs of tension.
Seven of Nine took the center stage as she placed a stack of padds on the table. "These are my personal log records for the duration for which I was assumed deceased." She began walking around the conference table. "My first suspicions of the holographic doctor came when I realized that he was not in sickbay during the time of the first two murders. He also confessed to me that he was worried about a degradation in his program soon after Ensign Expendables was killed, recounting a lapse of memory during the exact period the ensign was reportedly killed. When I heard about the accident on the holodeck, I came to the logical conclusion that somebody on board had sabotaged the holographic systems, causing the malfunction.
"It occurred to me that the perpetuators of this scheme could not be the Marlok, as their limited knowledge of holographic technology would not allow them to alter the doctor's program, much less alter it in a way that the doctor himself would not be aware of the alteration. In addition, I came to realize that my involvement with the investigation would surely attract the attention of these marauders, and I would no doubt be targeted. Thus I decided that it would be best if I could work safely unnoticed, and the best way to do this was to let everybody assume that I was dead."
"That's the part where I come in," continued Paris. "When Seven approached me the night before the Delta Flyer's launch with her suspicions and her plans, I thought it was totally insane. But after further thought I decided that it was the best way out of this. So I worked through the night modifying the Delta Flyer to malfunction in the way she described, as well as adding a few storage compartments. And to help us with the plan was Ensign Kim, although he did not know it."
Kim sucked in a deep breath as the implications suddenly became clear to him. "The holoprogram... I get it now!"
Paris nodded. "What you experienced, Captain, was merely a simulation which I had Harry help me program. You were on board the Voyager the whole time."
"The whole time?" asked Chakotay incredulously. "Impossible! That seems a hoax of titanic proportions. We all saw what happened to the Delta Flyer."
"Patience, Commander," said Paris smoothly. "We modified the Delta Flyer's shields to cycle in periodic bursts of twenty minutes. So when the Delta Flyer first took off, its shields were down for ten seconds, allowing me to transport Captain Janeway into the holodeck."
'The flash of light!" exclaimed Janeway.
"Precisely." Paris started striding the other way round. "Thus Seven, alone on the Delta Flyer, modified the shields and opened the airlock as in the holoprogram, but only this time she did not allow herself to fall out. Our calculations for the mission's duration turned out to be nearly correct, allowing us to beam her back into the Delta Flyer, apparently alone, twenty minutes after it had left, completing the cycle. Meanwhile, Seven had concealed herself within the storage compartments it had added to the Delta Flyer."
"Since then I've been housed in Ensign Paris' room," explained Seven. 'We kept in contact by the neural implant I had attached to his cerebral system, here." Paris lifted up the long fringe of hair at the nape of his neck, on which was attached a small gray device which contained rapidly blinking lights.
"Which would explain his attempts to stall for time on the way to inspect his quarters," noted Tuvok.
"Yes. I was trying to give Seven time to clear out and get out of hearing range," he explained.
"By raiding the database in Sickbay, I was able to confirm my suspicions about the doctor, as well as obtain the information needed to shut him down," she concluded. "I then shut down the ship's main processes to confuse and disorientate the crew as much as possible in order for me to be able to obtain the materials needed to build the multi-phase kedion emitter required to deactivate his holomatrix."
"Between that, I managed to convince Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Tuvok to bring the ship out of geosynchrous orbit so that Seven could shut down main power without the risk of us being trapped by the planet's gravitational field," explained Paris. "I guess they know the reasons now."
"A brilliant plan, if I've ever seen one," commended Janeway. "Is that why you had to hit Lieutenant Torres on the head?" she asked somewhat dryly. Torres, sitting beside her, smiled in mirth, rubbing the still-sore spot where Seven had hit her.
"My apologies," said Seven. "I have to admit that some of my methods were... unorthodox." If the ex-Borg could ever look sheepish, this was the closest they'd ever seen to it. "But it did serve my purpose rightfully."
"A most wise philosophy," remarked Salissaj, whom until now had remained rather silent. "As one of my accomplices will tell you."
Janeway glared at the two seated at the end of the room. "Now I would like to know the motives behind all this."
Salissaj turned to glare at Ha'agden. "It is simple. All we wanted to do was to prevent you from entering a treacherous treaty with the Marlok. They are dangerous!"
Ha'agden returned the glare to her. "That is an unfounded untruth!" he shouted. "You are basing your assumptions on your knowledge of the Marlok people from centuries past when we last made contact with each other! We have changed since then."
Salissaj sneered. "How could I trust the judgement of one so forsaken?" she spat back. "You are nothing but a unsophisticated barbarian race."
"And this comes from someone who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals, even killing people," snapped Janeway. "Your philosophies are flawed, Emissary."
"Tell that to Appleton," she snapped. "He's the one behind all this, the one who bypassed your female drones' safety protocols to alter the doctor's program. It was his idea and his philosophy that we used in planning all this."
"Actually, I tend to disagree. Killing people wasn't what I had in mind when I mentioned Machiavelli's The Prince," came a new voice from the back of the room. A man in his mid-thirties, clearly human, with short brown hair, stepped into the room. "I was thinking more in terms of sabotaging systems, disrupting their power supply." His steel-gray eyes swept the room serenely, then stopped to focus on Seven.
"I know who you are!" exclaimed Paris. "You are that Marlok I saw fiddling with the replicator controls in the mess hall!"
"I am not who you think I am," he replied smoothly, turning to face Paris, exposing a patch of black metal integrated into his neck. Janeway suppressed a sharp gasp of horror.
"Three of Twelve, Primary Adjunct to the Unimatrix Zero-one," said Seven icily. "His unit crash-landed on planet eight years ago after passing through a volatile nebula and was assumed lost."
"Assumed," Three of Twelve countered. "I survived, and was restored to my humanity by the Vorlok people." He glanced at Salissaj. "They have been very kind."
"Do you approve of their actions here?" asked Janeway softly.
"No," replied Three of Twelve, now named Appleton. "As a matter of fact, I do not agree with the entire Marlok-Vorlok animosities. Their conflict has been going on for three hundred years, and it has affected their societies badly. My advice had been to stop this whole war and start making peace instead. The whole issue smacks of childishness; the refusal to bury the hatchet and share what they have with each other. And I do think it is selfish to trap your Federation vessel in the midst of the conflict. Many of the two peoples want nothing more than peace and a chance to develop something other than weapons of war."
"Did you hear that, Salissaj?" asked Janeway softly. "It seems to me that you are turning a deaf ear to the cries of your people."
The Emissary hung her head low for a moment. "I was only doing it for the good of the planet."
"Perhaps there is still hope," suggested Janeway, coaxing them gently. "A way for your two cultures to work together once again." She paced slowly around the room, and finally turned to face the pair. "Two metals are stronger when mixed together than when apart," she said. "As it is with people."
The pair said nothing for a long time. Then finally Ha'agden raised his head and broke the silence and addressed Salissaj. "You ex-Borg speaks truth. Our conflict has been nothing but a burden, a manacle on our societies' development. It is time for us to put our differences aside and work towards a common goal."
Salissaj looked up, her voice still soft, but this time with a underlining of joy and hope in it. "Together."
"Ow! That hurts," yelped Naomi as the Doctor tended to her burned hand.
The Doctor, back to his normal cheerful self, seemed unperturbed by this. "This is precisely why playing a game of tag with as big an oaf as Tom Paris in the mess hall while Neelix is carrying a bowl of very hot soup is an unwise idea," he said. He smiled at her and finished healed her arm. "There, just as good as new."
Neelix nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll make sure that nobody gets hurt in the mess hall again," he offered breezily, "because I intend to write a set of rules concerning one's conduct in the Mess Hall, including no running, and no food fights."
"No food fights?" asked Naomi, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "But Tom and I were just planning one! And besides, the two of you started the first one..."
Neelix rolled his eyes and was about to rebuff the statement when the entrance to Sickbay slid open, announcing the entrance of Seven of Nine.
"Hello, Doctor," she said, as coolly composed as ever. "I see that I have successfully managed to restore your holomatrix."
"Thank you," replied the Doctor, smiling graciously. "It's good to have you back."
Neelix, sensing that his presence might be intruding, quickly said, "I've got some customers waiting to try some of my new recipes back in the mess hall, so I suppose I'll have to leave now," and exited, leaving Seven, Naomi and the Doctor alone in Sickbay.
"Well," said the Doctor finally, "I finally seem to be functioning normally. Of the incidents in which the Vorlok algorithm took over the functions of my program, I have no memory of."
"Just as Appleton said it would," said Seven. "I should have suspected that only another one of my kind could have managed to bypass the safety protocols I installed in your program."
The Doctor nodded, saying nothing, as he reflected on what he remembered in the last few days. "I wonder if the crew will ever trust me again after this. After all, I supposedly placed the timed charge in Expendables during his last medical checkup."
"But it wasn't you who killed all those people," insisted Naomi. "And it wasn't your fault."
Seven glanced at him. "I have read the ship's logs and reviewed several instances in which crewmembers caused harm to this ship and its crew while under an alien influence," she said. "In the aftermath of these events, none of the persons involved were given any blame for what happened then."
"We just make sure it never happens again," said Naomi.
The Doctor smiled at the two. "Thank you for your assurances," he said. "Now, if you please, I think I have a lot of work to do."
Naomi nodded and left Sickbay, but Seven remained where she was. "Naomi told me about the holoprogram you wrote on me," she said.
The Doctor looked a little embarrassed. "Ah, yes. It was something I thought would... keep me company."
Something in Seven's imperturbable demeanor softened as she walked closer to the EMH. "I just wanted you to know that I am.... touched by the value you place on my companionship."
The EMH looked directly at her, a half-smile on his face. "I didn't even realize how much I did until I thought that I would never see you again," he told her, the compassion in his words warming the room in more ways than any environmental system could. He took her hand and clasped it gently, an act which was so unusual even he was surprised. "And I am glad that I do not have to live through that scenario."
"Are you sure you do not want to follow the Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant?" Janeway asked Appleton, who was standing, calm and composed, in her ready room.
"No," he replied. "Apart from what I remember of Starfleet Academy and my first assignment on board the Saratoga at Wolf 359, I have no memories of my life as a human," he said.
Janeway pushed a padd towards him. "I found these particulars in the Voyager database," she said, as he picked up the padd. "That is all the information pertaining to a certain James Eustace Appleton. Sound familiar?"
Appleton scanned the padd briefly, then nodded. "It is me," he concluded. "With your permission, I'd like to take this padd back with me. To the Marlok people."
"But doesn't anything there interest you? Don't you want to meet your parents? Your siblings?" pressed Janeway.
Appleton looked down at the padd emotionlessly, then back up at her. "The facts are intriguing," he conceded. "But I have no emotional attachment left to it. That was lost when I was assimilated by the Borg." His gaze shifted to the reddish planet hanging in space, visible from Janeway's window, and the light in his eyes softened. "Everything I know and love is on that planet, down there. I would like to grow and restore my humanity with the Marlok and the Vorlok people as they learn to work together again."
Janeway nodded, knowing that she couldn't persuade him any further. "I understand. I'll just... inform your relatives back home of your decision."
"Thank you," said Appleton, a hint of a smile on his face. He turned to leave, and nearly ran into Commander Chakotay, who was just entering.
"Come in, Commander," invited Janeway.
Chakotay walked into the room and stood hesitantly in front of Janeway's desk. "The doctor has been analyzing the samples of the gas we collected from the Delta Flyer," he said. "Here are the details of the full report."
Janeway grabbed the padd in interest and scanned it with rapture. "Remnants of a supernova which happened fifty million years ago... large traces of six hitherto undiscovered transitional isotopes, unusually radioactive due to interference with the unique gravimatric signals from the Lukas IV moon..." she scanned further downwards and paused. "Wait. He's naming the six new elements after us?" She rolled her eyes as Chakotay shrugged. "I need to talk to him about that."
"Lieutenant Torres speculates that if we managed to recreate the effects of the moon's gravitational field, these gases may provide a substantial amount of extra energy for the ship, which will put less strain on our deuterium supplies," he added. "She has an engineering team working on it right now."
Janeway smiled. "After the past few days, I finally get to hear some good news." She stood up and smiled at him. "Care for dinner tonight?"
He returned the smile. "With pleasure." As she turned to leave, he hesitated for a moment, not wanting to step out of the ready room just yet. "Kathryn?" he called tentatively after her.
She turned to face him, eyebrows raised in expectation. "Yes?"
Chakotay fidgeted a little. "I was just thinking... about one of the last conversations that we had," he said. "And it occurred to me that... as soon as I thought of the idea that perhaps you could have somehow caused Seven's death, I realized that even if that was true, you would not have been at fault."
He looked down slightly as Janeway walked over to him and placed gently her hand on his arm. "I know you have placed a lot of trust in me when you gave me this post, and I've been trying to keep up to that expectation... and I hope you forgive me. I do trust you."
Janeway smiled and tightened her grip on his arm, drawing him closer. "I know," she whispered softly. "Deep in my heart, I have never doubted it."
Her gaze grew fond as they stared at each other's eyes, stirring emotions deep and subtle inside, as outside the ship, the fiery-hued planet of Lukas IV rotated in its place, finally at peace.
_____The End_____
Author's note: Okay, so this piece is like, totally non-canon because I managed to kill off some recurring characters and I might be writing something to bring them back after my exams (*groan*) So anyway, if anyone has any good ideas for names of the people killed, nitpicks, etc etc etc, do not attempt to contact me because I am a hundred-year-old hermit living on Hoth who doesn't check mail, doesn't do anything except sit around and let my brain rot. And if you totally hate this story and think its utter crap and a three-year-old German Shepherd could do better, well, join the club! So do I! *grin* (I was kidding, btw. *pretty please* review this ?)
Ro Laren (aka Lt Taya 17 Janeway) October 1999
Live long and Prosper with the powers of the PUDDING!
© 1999
Post Edit note © 2001: Okay, so that was clichéd, predictable and poorly written. Go ahead, shoot me for wasting your time! What can you expect of something written when all I'd watched was le grande totale of FOUR Voyager episodes? I couldn't even get Ayala's gender right. (And I STILL don't know if it's a he or she… some say he, some say she… what is this, Voyager's answer to Spot?!?) After re-reading it now I hope to heck my fanfic writing has improved, or I'm giving up on it forever! Bah! *is disgusted by her dearth of literary skills*