Title: DISPLACED (8/20)

Writers: PATTI KEIPER (Kim, T'Prena, Janeway & Suspiria), CHRIS DEVLIN (Donaldson, Gunn, Rollins, Carey & Darcy), NICK LEWIS (Lefler), ALLEN McDONNELL (Tuvok & Vorik), AUDREY DeJESUS (Seven)

Edited by NICK LEWIS

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and it's associated characters are trademarks of Paramount/Viacom. This is a fan-run venture, making no money. Please leave our lawyers alone ;-)

V-Trek: The Alternate Adventures @ http://www.virtual-trek.fsnet.co.uk

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Harry awakes to an amber world. The air is filled with the stench of seared sand and dust. He coughs, then turns his head wildy, suddenly frightened that this illness has affected his sight. He's blind! He rolls onto his back and sighs in relief as he sees comforting stars wink into his vision, his retinas quickly growing used to the darkness. It's just night. He ckecks the areas of him which the sores had previously covered. Scabs have formed over them. He realises he feels cooler too - his fever must have receded, at least for the moment. Memories start trickling into his mind. "T'Prena?"

Near him is the cool vulcan form of the woman Suspira had brought to him to prove her intentions. She doesn't reply to his cracking voice, lying still on the sand. He crawls over to her and places an ear on her stomach. He's relieved to hear her heart beating. He looks up to the sky and across the landscape. No moon... and what looks like some mountains in the distance. He wonders if they're still on the same planet that weird alien hospital was on. And if they are, how did they get outside?

Harry begins lightly slapping T'Prena's face to wake her, but she catches his arm defensively on the second blow. "That is sufficient." She sits up, still grasping his wrist, then shifts her grip to check his pulse. "How are you doing, Ensign?" she asks, noting the apparent healing of his blisters.

She moves to touch one of the scabs, but Harry backs away reflexively. "Don't! It might be infectious."

She raised one elegant eyebrow. "Highly improbable. We've been in each other's company for some time now since our transport here from the alien hospital. If I was susceptible I would have contracted symptoms to verify that theory. I have not. Therefore I conclude that I am immune to your sickness." Harry thinks about that as she looks carefully at the sky. "I would say that we have been in this desert for approximately nine point four hours." she says as she helps Harry to his feet.

Harry frowns. "You were unconscious just now. How do you know how lon-"

"I've noted the change in the stellar constellations from what I observed just before I lost consciousness when they brought us here."

"You remember that?" Harry asks, panting with the exertion of being upright after so long lying down.

"Certainly. They did not sedate me until after I fought one of them for the communications device on his belt. I believe it was the same being who was in the hospital with us when your delirium required that you be restrained."

Harry smiles uncomfortably. "I was... delirious?"

"You were. I was brought to your room to 'keep you company' and most likely to keep you alive. You had to be resuscitated twice when your lungs wouldn't breathe on their own."

"Glad to hear it" Harry says, covering up his embarrassment. "Listen, how about we try and find some water before the sun comes up?"

T'Prena tilts her head. "You have no need for such an emotional reaction, Ensign. I was serving my profession's duty by aiding you."

The thought of a Vulcan giving him mouth to mouth and being able to read his mind afterwards un-nerves Harry greatly. "Whatever... Let's... let's just move out of here, shall we? How about over to those mountains, they look promising."

He rapidly walks away from his companion and T'Prena actually has to stretch herself to keep up with him. Illogical humans. I will never understand their emotional reactions to the medical personnel who attend to them.

********************

Her face is expressionless on the surface, but inside Suspiria seethes as her transporter is used like a taxi service, ferrying people to and from the damaged Maquis ship. Occasionally she glances down into the deactivated holopit, watching these bipedal creatures go about their business, then wanders off wishing they were gone already. Destructive beings, all of them. She'd found out a little while ago that one of them killed her most dedicated worker before damaging her holo-matrix. She almost wishes she'd never ensnared them, but at least they will prove useful in the second experiment. True, none of them have the genetic requirements for a merging with the Ocampa, but her most recent tests regarding the solar radiation problem have yielded some interesting results and she's curious to see how these species' will handle the effects. Maybe she can solve both problems together.

Suspiria paces the metal floor and on impulse slices her hand through the air, causing a disorientated Captain Janeway to appear in front of her. "I am tiring of your continued presence. Have you made your 'arrangements'?" Suspiria is the model of restraint, not wanting to give the Captain an inkling of what's going to happen to the rest of her people once the ship has left the array.

"Very nearly" Kathryn says as she determines up from down within the pit of her stomach. "However, I would like to ask another favour if I may. My crew haven't eaten for almost a day that we know of, maybe more. Any food that you can give us would be graciously accepted."

Suspiria holds onto her temper. "Your technological needs are being met. That is enough."

"Look, I don't mean for us to overstay our welcome, but some sustenance would go a long way to pacifying the crew. I'm sure you've noticed their 'restlessness'."

"It is but for my generosity that you have a chance of pursuing your ship thieves at all, Captain Janeway. Your people have been highly disruptive."

Kathryn bites her tongue. Belligerance will only inflame this being. She lowers her gaze submissively. "I offer you my genuine apologies for our conduct. But this kindness would benefit yourself as well as us. My crew will be able to work faster when properly nourished." Suspiria looks at her through narrowed eyes, then grudgingly sweeps out a hand, a cargo bin of bread and fruit appearing in the middle of the holopit. The crew look on in surprise at the huge crate's sudden materialization. "Our gracious host has provided for our needs once more" Kathryn calls down to them.

"With this nourishment, how long will it take?" Suspiria demands.

Kathryn meets her eyes levelly. "We will be flight ready in two of our hours."

"Very well. Go down to your crew, and to your food. I am leaving. I find the ingestion of biomatter by ephemerals... distasteful." Suspiria disappears looking like she's going to be sick. Kathryn looks back down at the food. She doesn't need a second invitation.

********************

Donaldson pulls the peel off another orange and devours a segment hungrily. He turns to Raye who's trying to break open a coconut with the butt of her phaser. She growls in fury and wallops the shell a few more times, glaring at Donaldson when he starts laughing. "Why don't you just have an apple?" he suggests. "They're nice."

"I don't want an apple" she explains slowly, thumping the coconut as hars as she can. "I want a coconut. I like the pulpy bit, I like the milk, I like everything about this fruit except..." She tries stamping on it to no avail. "Except this bloody shell." she finishes, giving up and sitting down in front of it.

An idea then strikes her. She could use a phaser beam on low power to burn away the shell. She smiles triumphantly and readies her phaser.

"DON'T DO THAT!" Donaldson cries out.

"I'm a qualified security officer, Donaldson, I think I can handle it."

"But do you have any idea what a type 2 phaser on level 4 does to a coconut when fired from a range of two metres?"

"No, do you?"

Donaldson shakes his head. "But I'm in no rush to find out."

Captain Janeway, sitting on the metal stairway winding down to the flight deck, notices the fruit fiasco debate unfolding between her two junior officers. She smirks, tactfully keeping silent as the woman aims her phaser. Well, that's one way to let off a little stress. I'm glad I'm out of the range of fire.

Raye shrugs and fires her weapon. The milk inside boils and the shell begins to expand, the pressure mounting until... SPLAT!!! The coconut explodes, showering Raye and several other innocent bystanders with white fruit. Donaldson roars with laughter, spraying spit and orange pulp. A disgusted looking Raye wipes herself down and grabs an apple from her mound of fruit, viciously tearing a lump from it. "The apples are nice" she mumbles as she bites into it again.

"I was right" Donaldson says smugly. Raye gives him the evil eye, at that moment contemplating at least eight ways to kill him, two of them involving fruit.

Kathryn hides an involuntary laugh by burying her teeth into a peach. She spares the coconut soaked 'victims' a direct glance, even though they look her way expecting her to react somehow to their annoyance. Live and learn they say. She chuckles, brushing a shred of coconut pith from one shoulder. She offers them a cluster of bananas in compensation, but gets no takers.

Everyone stands up as Lieutenant Rollins and Ensign Darcy arrive. It's at this point Raye realises everyone around them are from security. Jeff clears his throat. "Okay people, here's the personnel listing for the Liberty operation. We only had the opportunity to choose eight of the most skilled and professional amongst you. Munro, Alexander." A slender man almost bursting out of his uniform walks crisply into step with Jeff.

"Rodriguez, Leslie." A young woman with bleached blonde hair saunters smugly over.

"Foster, David." A cold, dark skinned man with a beard and piercing eyes.

"Lestaki, Skazz." A clean-cut Bolian with a rifle.

"D'nighr, Gertand." A heavily muscled, green-skinned alien.

"Weizbaski, Philip." A well-built man with a perpetual scowl and five o'clock shadow.

"Gunn, Raye." There's a few sniggers as some of the crewmen put her name together, but Jeff's withering stare silences them.

"Well it's been nice, Gunn" Donaldson tells her, finishing off the last orange segment, "but since I have the aptitude of a five year old and no redeeming merit, I'll see you when you get back." He gives her a genuine smile. "It's a shame really, because I was growing quite fond of-"

"Donaldson, Samuel."

Sam almost chokes on his orange. As the others file away leaving the chosen few behind, he approaches his commanding officer. "Why me, sir?" Jeff ignores him, ordering the team to line-up. "Please sir, why me?" he pleads.

"Get into line, Donaldson" Jeff tells him. Raye mutters something about Sam's parentage.

"If you answer the question I'll happily join in" he badgers.

Jeff tells him to shut up and Raye pretends not to know him.

"Are you avoiding my question, sir? Because if you are-"

Jeff sighs and turns to face him. "You want to know? Fine! These officers" he gestures to the others, "are here because they are professional, efficient and cool under pressure. You are loud, unprofessional and whiny. You have the aptitude of a grape and I'm surprised you learned to tie your shoes, let alone make it through security training. You want to know why you're here? Because you have an accuracy rating of 91% in a realtime combat environment. I rate only 79% and no-one else here is above 75%." The other officers look at Sam in a mixture of awe, respect, and utter disbelief, except Raye who is staring at him with great curiosity. "There's your reason, Donaldson. Now get in line" Jeff says briskly. Sam blinks, but complies a second later, filing in next to Raye.

Kathryn, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, had seen the division of the security officers and had approved of Jeff's selections, only to raise an eyebrow when she hears Donaldson's efficiency rating. Talk about sharpshooting, she thinks.

"You didn't tell me you were that good a shot" Raye whispers to him while Jeff reads out the mission profile.

Sam shrugs. "It never came up."

"Well, now I know why they didn't boot you out. You're a prodigy." She grins. "An honest to God prodigy. Nice to have met you."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be. Trust me" he says glumly.

As he finishes, Jeff turns and glances at Kathryn. "Security team alpha ready for action, Captain."

Kathryn nods, smiling. "Take your positions. We leave in ten." As the team split-up, Kathryn makes her way back up the stairs to the bridge.

********************

Kathryn checks status reports coming in as Jeff arrives and takes his position at tactical. The bridge is a little cramped, but she gets a sense of readyness and action that she wouldn't get on an active Starfleet vessel. She toggles a switch. "All hands, this is the Captain. Man your stations, we have thirty seconds to launch." She flicks another switch. "Engineering, fire up aft thrusters and prepare to engage the impulse drive. We've got ourselves a starship to recover." In the back of her mind, Kathryn is already making plans to sweep the nearest planets for lifesigns while they cast about for the Voyager's escape trail. She mentally ticks down the seconds in her head and on precisely zero, the ship lurches forward.

"Sorry Captain, the inertial dampers are a bit sluggish" Robin Lefler reports from ops.

"Quite alright, Ensign. We should probably consider it a miracle of engineering that she's moving at all." Robin smiles at that as the ship starts to distance itself from the array.

"Alright Mr Carey, maximum sustainable warp speed please" Kathryn requests as the ship reaches the required range.

"Aye Captain" Joe's voice crackles over the intercom, "warp four coming up." The engines began to power up, then just as suddenly stall and die.

"Mr Carey" Kathryn starts.

"I didn't do that, Captain" the engineer says hastily. "Everything checks out down here, the engines should be working fine."

A flash in front of her causes Kathryn to blink. When her vision clears, she sees an angry Suspiria standing in front of her. "You tried to remove him" she accuses. "I won't let you do that."

Janeway is taken aback. What is she talking about? "I don't understand-" she begins.

"The one you call Donaldson" Suspiria explains, exasperated at the stupidity of these people. "He not only disabled my holomatrix, but also killed my most trusted servant."

"Killed?" Kathryn exclaims, clearly surprised.

"If I was in such a mind, I would space him in an instant" Suspiria hisses. "However he may yet serve a useful purpose."

"Captain" comes Raye's voice over the comms desk, "Ensign Donaldson has disappeared. One minute we were talking, the next-"

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant" Kathryn interrupts. "I think I know why. Will explain later."

Suspiria waves her hand and a figure appears on the bridge. It's Joanna Darcy, chewing on a long strand of hay, her uniform top tied around her waist. She looks around and her mouth drops open slightly, the hay falling to the floor. "To replace your crewman" Suspiria states curtly. She vanishes without another word.

Joanna finally finds her voice. "I missed something important didn't I" she says quietly...

And as the Liberty disappears into warp, the engines coming back online as soon as Suspriria left, the childlike entity strolls over to her deactivated holomatrix, still occupied by the remainder of the Voyager crew. Solar radiation experiment number twenty-two initiated. And not before time. With a wave of her hand, everyone inside vanishes. On the heat-blazed desert surface of Ocampa, seventy-three beings suddenly appear as if from nowhere.

********************

"Ensign, I believe if you apply pressure at this juncture we will be successful." Vorik worms his way into the painstakingly excavated tunnel. "On three" Tuvok orders. "One...... two...... three." The two vulcans apply pressure uniformly, increasing it until the small boulder in question shifts, then drops away leaving a vulcan size opening into a cave. Thirty minutes later the two stealthily move into the light, discovering not a friendly planetary surface, but rather an numerous crowd of familiar cybernetic beings.

"Borg" Vorik states.

Tuvok nods. "So long as we do not threaten them, reports indicate they will ignore us."

"I would prefer to place a good distance between ourselves and these drones before we rest again" Vorik replies.

"Agreed, Ensign. Let us proceed."

Tuvok steps out boldly and acts as if he belongs strolling in the midst of the borg. Vorik naturally follows his lead. Within moments though, four drones stop what they're doing and close in, restraining them effectively. "It would appear that the reports on borg behavior are out-of-date" Vorik comments.

"Indeed!" comes Tuvok's reply. "This type of behaviour has only been noted on one prior occasion. When the android Lore discovered a cube severed from the rest of the collective."

Another drone approaches them, clearly female. "I am Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One. State your designation!"

Tuvok stares impassively at her. "I am Tuvok, this is Vorik" he says, gesturing to his companion. "We were brought to this world against our will and will depart peacefully. We are of no threat to you" he adds.

"This planet's environment is hostile to our cybernetic implants. We need shelter and technology to re-establish our link with the collective. You will assist us." Seven of Nine speaks as if she's merely instructing another couple of drones.

"We have no technology that would be useful to you" Vorik comments.

"Irrelevant. You will assist us, resistance is futile!" Seven of Nine turns her head in the slightest manner to regard Vorik. "You will assist in our repairs of the remaining regeneration chambers. If you prove of no use as individuals, then you will be assimilated." She turns to the other drones. "Take these Vulcans to the encampment and have them start on units four and seven."

With the order, the two male drones holding Tuvok and Vorik lead them towards the main part of their group. Once there, the Vulcans witness an interesting sight. While half of the drones are busy working, tending the power generaters and other equipment, the others are engaging in non-productive pursuits - games, small-talk. Seven of Nine pauses as she enters the area and with a quick scan determines that two more drones have stopped working and appear to have joined those that are re-embracing their individuality. With a look that could almost be called disgust, she walks away.


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