THE LOST VOYAGES
The "Star Trek – Voyager" that could have been
by Soledad
Alternate pilot episode
Disclaimer: All Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry and Viacom or whoever owns the rights at this moment. I don't make any profit out of this – I wish I would, but I don't, so suing me would be pointless.
Rating: PG-13, for some rather disturbing images.
Beta read by Brigid, my sincerest thanks. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Repairs aboard the Crazy Horse were going frustratingly slowly in Torres' absence and with Yosa and Chell incapacitated. Chakotay had sent all bridge personnel to help the repair crews, so, aside from him, only Seska remained on the small bridge. The skilled Bajoran was capable of doing small repairs while monitoring the communications aboard Voyager. Chakotay instructed the computer to match the Starfleet ship's course; then he switched to autopilot to lay a hand on the damaged systems himself. Granted, he was no engineer, but he knew the basics well enough to fix small damage. It was still better than nothing.
About two hours later, the comm system started chirping again. Seska went to check.
"It's Sito, from Voyager's sickbay, Chakotay. She has news!"
Chakotay crawled out from under his console and back into his seat. "What's up?"
"We were right, sir," the younger Bajoran reported. "It is some weird sort of carcinoma."
"Weird in which sense?"
"Well, sir, for starters, under normal circumstances Bolians are not susceptibe to this kind of illness. Nor does it normally spread this quickly in human patients."
"Were you able to determine what had caused the illness?"
"Aye, sir. And that's the weirdest part of all. They seem to have been infested with alien DNA, and a rather aggressive one, that causes irregular cell growth, not being compatible with their own DNA."
You don't have what I need. They might. The words of the alien echoed in Chakotay's mind. What could the obsessed entity be searching for? Were Bendera, Chell and Yosa dying as the result of some experiement that had gone wrong? Could Torres and that young Starfleet ensign be suffering from the same illness?
Questions, questions, questions…
"Is there any treatment you can try?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. We'll have to treat them on the cellular level, though, and extracting the alien DNA will have some unpleasant side effects like nausea and hair loss during therapy, but ultimately, they can be healed. And the eventual loss of body hair would only be a problem for Kurt.
Chakotay smiled, despite his concerns. "Is the therapy safe?" he asked then.
Sito nodded. "T'Prena says it has been used successfully for decades. We'll have to make some modifications, of course. After all, how often do people get infected by alien DNA?"
"And you believe her?" Seska asked with a scowl. "You trust her just because she's a Vulcan? We've trusted a Vulcan before, and see what good it did us!"
"We have no other choice, Seska," Sito answered calmly. "I know it's not an easy thing to do, especially after how Suvuk… I mean, Tuvok lied to us all, but I really don't see any other way to save our people."
"I'd rather take my chances," replied Seska stubbornly.
"You're not the one being eaten alive by alien DNA," Sito pointed out, her otherwise gentle eyes hardening. "Captain, I strongly suggest that we allow T'Prena to administer the treatment. I believe I understand what's to be done, and the therapy seems to cause little harm, compared to its results."
"Very well," Chakotay said after some thinking, "proceed. But I want to be informed about every new development."
"Of course, sir. I'll report to you every hour. Sito out."
Chakotay sighed and crawled back under his console. In the end, it all went down to the one important question: could he trust the Fleeters? Even here in the Delta Quadrant, seventy-thousand light-years from the place of their enmity, had it been a sound decision to deliver his people into their hands? Or had Seska been right, and they should have taken their chances?
He shook his head. No, he couldn't do that. Not to Kurt, who had saved his life in that bar on Telfas Prime. Not to Gerron, who had just begun to recover from the abuse he had suffered in that Cardassian prison. Not to quiet, unwaveringly loyal Yosa, whose engineering wizardry had helped Torres to keep the Crazy Horse in one piece against impossible odds. Not even to Chell, whose irritating nature often made his fists itch. They were his troops – and they were desperately needed.
Granted, back in the DMZ the Maquis usually preferred death to prison. Especially to Cardassian prison. But they weren't in the DMZ anymore, and they couldn't risk losing any more people if they wanted to keep their ship running. Besides, they were a family. An often dysfunctional family that sometimes needed the heavy hand of the cell leader to keep going, but still a family. For the most of them it was the only family they had left, after the Cardassians had murdered their loved ones.
The image of Ken Dalby's lovely, courageous wife came uninvited to his mind. They had barely a year together – and what a horrible way it was to lose someone! Chakotay had been Ken's best man, and he would never forget the happiness softening Ken's hard-bitten face when Kali had spoken her vows. After Kali had been murdered, for a while they all feared that Ken's spirits were broken for good. That he would die, too.
Maybe he would have, had we not found Gerry, Chakotay mused, fighting the circuits that stubbornly refused to let themselves be removed, due to the simple fact that they had melted into the console. The broken young man – Gerron had barely seen sixteen summers when they had found him – somehow made Dalby's protective instincts kick into high gear. Gerry had become the son that Ken had never had, gave Ken a reason to live again.
Chakotay only hoped that Gerron would make it. Otherwise they could lose Dalby, too. As hard as the man was – nobody could survive on a farming colony near the Cardassian border unless they were harder than granite – he would not be able to take another personal loss of this magnitude. Of that Chakotay was absolutely certain.
Some piece of equipment gave a chirping noise again, somewhere above his head. From his weird perspective he could see Seska's legs approaching; the Bajoran apparently checked the sensors that monitored the route before them – then she whistled.
"Come up here, Chakotay, you oughtta see this…"
Chakotay suppressed a sigh of relief – he was actually grateful for the excuse to leave the burned circuitry to its own devices for a while – and emerged from the guts of his control panel to take a look at the viewscreen.
What he saw took his breath away for a moment. By all indication, he was staring at a starship cemetery. A vast scattering of ships, in various stages of decay, glittered and tumbled among what could only be called space debris: mustered-out satellites, or what was left of them, the shards of wrecked probes and only the Spirits knew what else. And among all that rubbish, a small vessel – barely more than a squat cylinder with some sort of a dish on top – was navigating carefully through the skeletal remains. It seemed intact although rather shabby.
"Is there someone still alive on that wreck?" Chakotay asked.
"There must be," Seska replied, checking both the sensors and the comm channels of Voyager, "since it flies on its own. Only one lifesign, though. The Fleeters are about to call it. Do you want to eavesdrop?"
"You bet," Chakotay replied grimly. "I want to know everything that goes on aboard that ship."
Seska nodded, switching a key on the control panel, tapping effectively into the comm system of Voyager again and transferring the same image that had been shown on Voyager's viewscreen to that of the Crazy Horse.
It was a sight that made Chakotay stifle an involuntary laughter, even though he had learned early in his career that one should not let oneself be misled by appearances. But the alien, whose face filled the screen – and who was obviously crawling on its hands and knees aboard the small vessel – looked like a hedgehog, decorated with multi-colored spots; and obviously in the state of extreme annoyance.
"Whoever you are, I found this waste zone first," he announced, apparently ready to fight for his finder's rights, regardless of the costs. As ridiculous as it seemed to challenge a ship like Voyager from a barge the only cabin of which was not even tall enough for him to stand, he meant it seriously. Chakotay guessed that dealing in space waste must have been the little alien's only source of income. Small wonder that he seemed to protect his find, at any costs.
"We're not interested in this debris, Mister... " Janeway paused expectantly, and the alien seemed to take the hint.
"Neelix," he answered, not bothered by her patronizing tone at all. Then he gave her an honest grin. "And since you're not interested in my debris... Well, I'm delighted to know you."
Now it was Janeway's turn to take the hint, and she did so. With full Starfleet pomp, according to regulations, of course.
"Captain Kathryn Janeway," she introduced herself formally, "of the Federation Starship Voyager."
The formal announcement, sadly, had absolutely no effect on the little alien – aside from the general excitement over meeting new, friendly people, which almost had him bouncing up and down. He probably would have, had there been enough room on his tiny ship for such sportive activities.
"A very impressive title," he nodded with an earnest expression, although it was hard to tell if it was truly meant or simple mockery. "I have no idea what it means," he added cheerfully, "but it sounds very impressive."
Chakotay shot a look at Seska, who, too, had a hard time keeping her face straight. He'd have paid good money to see Janeway's face in this moment. Her voice, when she answered the little alien, revealed nothing, of course. Starfleet trained its captains in diplomatic behaviour.
"Do you know this area of space well, Mr. Neelix?"
The spotted one put on a rather self-satisfied face – it reminded Chakotay of a cock in the middle of a great number of lovesick hens.
"I am famous for knowing it well," he exclaimed proudly. "How may I be of service?"
That was a question Chakotay would have liked to be answered for himself. Janeway, however, approached her special goal carefully.
"Do you know anything about the Array that's sending energy pulses to the fifth planet of the neighbouring system? " she asked.
The alien – Neelix – blinked a few times, his cheerfulness dimming a little. "I know enough to stay as far away from it as possible." He blinked again, few more times; then it seemed that a thought occurred to him. "Wait. Let me guess. You were whisked away from somewhere else in the galaxy, and brought here against your will."
Chakotay and Seska exchanged surprised looks. Janeway's next question echoed their thoughts. "Sounds as though you've heard this story before."
"Sadly, yes," the little alien answered with an almost comical sigh. "Thousands of times." He blinked again and corrected himself. "Well, hundreds of – maybe fifty times." He shook his head and shrugged. "The Caretaker has been bringing ships here for months now."
"The Caretaker?" Janeway repeated. "You mean the alien on the Array?"
Neelix shrugged. "That's what the Ocampa call him."
"Him?" Seska mouthed, surprised that the entity apparently had a gender. After Chakotay and Ayala's short report about the Array she had not thought it would.
"Who are the Ocampa?" Janeway asked in the meantime.
"Oh, they live on the fifth planet," Neelix crawled a little closer to the comm system, and only now did Chakotay realize that the little alien wasn't lying on the floor by choice. Who the heck might have originally built and piloted that tiny vessel? According to the scale on the rand of the viewscreen, Neelix was small enough himself – how small could his ship be and to whom might it have belonged before him?
"Did he kidnap members of your crew?" Neelix asked in a compassionate manner. Janeway barked a short, bitter laughter.
"As a matter of fact, he did."
Neelix bobbed his head, the colourful plume of his slightly oversized head moving on its own like a fan. "It's not the first time."
Seska gave a partly disgusted, partly amused grunt, but Chakotay had had enough. It was time that he joined the discussion."
"Split screen," he ordered Seska. "Tie me into this debate."
The Bajoran nodded and put Janeway's image onto the left side of the split screen. Then she switched channels and nodded. "You can speak."
"Mr. Neelix," Chakotay said without preamble, "do you know where this… this Caretaker might have taken our people?"
The expression on Janeway's face was priceless: surprise, irritation and finally cold fury. Neelix, however, answered as eagerly as if it were the most normal thing for third parties to jump into a conversation. Maybe for his own people it was, who could tell?
"I've only heard that they're sent to the Ocampa," he said. "Nothing more."
Janeway took a deep breath and ordered her Ops officer to split the screen on their side, too. Then she turned to Chakotay.
"If you don't mind my asking, Comm… Captain – are you spying on us?"
Chakotay returned her icy look unblinkingly. "If you don't mind my asking, Captain – when did you intend to share with me this little piece of information?"
For a moment there was uncomfortable silence, as everyone knew that Chakotay's question had been more than justified. Janeway then turned her attention back to Neelix.
"Our scans showed no major settlements on the planet surface. Could you help us to find these Ocampa? We'd appreciate any help you could give us."
The little alien cocked his head in a strange, lizard-like manner, obviously not quite sure if he should give in to his curiosity or keep out of the whole thing and mind his own business. At the end, however, common sense overcame other considerations – or so it seemed.
"I-I-I really wish that I could help you," he sighed. "I-I do. But as you can see, there's just this... So much debris for me to investigate today." Leaning forward again, he added in a manner that reminded Chakotay uncomfortably of a Ferengi in the middle of a business negotiation. "You'd be surprised by the things of value some people abandon."
Janeway had gotten the hint, too. Chakotay could almost hear the good old Starfleet instincts – the methods drilled into future captains in command school – kicking into high gear.
"Of course, we'd want to compensate you for your trouble," she told the spotted one in her most charming manner. To Chakotay's surprise, she could actually emanate a considerable amount of charm if she decided to do so.
Neelix displayed a show of innocence that would have put Grand Nagus Zek to shame. Chakotay caught himself checking out the little alien's earlobes. Nah, his ears were still rather small. But his bargaining talent…
"And so the old Ferengi superstition proves to be wrong," Chakotay murmured under his breath, ignoring Seska's bewildered look. He would explain it to her later. Watching Neelix bargain with Janeway was actually very entertaining, and he didn't want to miss a moment of it.
"Well… there's really very little that you could offer me," the little alien assured Janeway in the manner of someone who was utterly content with his life. Seeing the environment in which he actually led said life made his otherwise spotless performance a lot less convincing, of course.
"Unless..." he added, trailing off speculatively, and Chakotay bit the inside of his cheek to stifle his laughter.
Janeway took the bait at once – she didn't really have any other choice.
"Unless…?" she prompted, a little impatiently now.
"Unless," Neelix repeated in the same nonchalantly speculative tone, "of course, you had..." he paused, trying to hide his desperate eagerness to seal the deal, "water?"
All of a sudden, it made great sense to Chakotay, remembering the barren desert that was the surface of the fifth planet. The Ocampa Neelix had mentioned earlier probably lived under the surface and had well-hidden water resources. But everyone else who visited this system had to bargain hard for their water. And Neelix' vessel didn't look as if he could make quick trips to the next available water source.
Which meant, in all likelihood, that the people of this area didn't have replicator technology. Why else would they be so desperate to locate natural water sources?
This thought made Chakotay realize the advantage that even his battered little ship had in this quadrant. So did Janeway, obviously – only that her ship, once the repairs were finished, was far superior.
"If you help us find our missing crew members, you can have all the water you want," she offered.
For a moment Neelix lost his calm, dropping his jaw in dumb amazement like a fish out of water. To his credit, however, he gathered his wits quickly enough again.
"Tha-tha-that sounds like a…" for a moment he lost his lead again, eyes glassing over from the mere thought, then he hurriedly added, "a very reasonable arrangement."
Reasonable, indeed, Chakotay snorted inwardly, exchanging a darkly amused look with Seska who had been watching the scene with vague disgust. You, my little friend, would sell your mother for that promise in a moment!
Not that he would blame the little creature for being desperate. He of all people knew all too well that survival sometimes overran ethics. Glancing back to Janeway he could see that the Fleet captain was well aware of her advantage – and not particularly hesitant to use it. Which was fine with Chakotay. He saw no reason to consider Neelix' needs a higher priority than finding – and possibly saving – their own people.
"Good," Janeway said, sealing the bargain with a confident nod. "We'll beam you over and tow your ship into our shuttle bay. Mr. Tuvok, go to Transporter Room Two and meet our guest."
Actually, the order made a lot of sense. Towing in the little wreck, that is. It would not have survived the pull of a tractor beam in one piece. Neelix, however, seemed less than enthusiastic.
"Beam?" he squeaked nervously.
Chakotay exchanged another meaningful look with Seska and saw Janeway's eyebrow rise speculatively. Not only no replicators, but no transporter technology, either? That would give them, Starfleet and Maquis alike, further advantage. Assuming that Hogan, Tabor and the others managed to repair the Crazy Horse's single transporter, of course. And the replicators. Not to mention the Warp drive.
"We have a technology which can take you instantly from your ship to ours," Janeway was explaining to Neelix; then, seeing that the toad-like little creature was near to panic, she hurriedly added. "It's quite harmless, I assure you. May we?"
Neelix hesitated for one more moment, curiosity warring with fear on his face. Then he lifted his arms in acceptance and the golden beam of the transporter turned him into a whirl of sparkling atoms before ghosting him away completely.
Janeway turned to Chakotay with a forced smile. "I expect our… guest to be presentable in an hour or so, Captain. Would you care to join our debriefing? It wouldd be easier than monitoring our communications all the time."
This was as close to admitting defeat as she would ever come, Chakotay knew that. He allowed himself a thin smile of satisfaction. It looked surprisingly unpleasant on his friendly face, and Janeway realized with a jolt how right Tuvok had been when he called Chakotay "dangerous".
"It would be my pleasure, Captain," the Maquis leader replied. Janeway noticed that he didn't say anything about stopping the eavesdropping.
Fifty minutes later, after having called in the reports from his repair crews, Chakotay was ready to beam over to Voyager again. This time he went alone, leaving Ayala in command. And he went armed, even though he knew he wouldn't stand a chance, alone against the Vulcan's well-trained security detail, should Janeway suddenly decide to throw him into the brig. But old habits were hard to break, and he knew he'd be able to take out at least some of the Fleeters before being overwhelmed.
He was met by a security lieutenant whose name was apparently Baxter (at least that was what the dark-skinned female transporter operator called him) and escorted to Janeway's ready room once more. She offered him a drink, and after a moment of hesitation he decided to take advantage of an actual, working replicator and accepted a cup of tea.
"We are in orbit of the fifth planet," Janeway told him conversationally, nursing her own steaming mug of coffee. "I've sent Tuvok to fetch our new guide from the guest quarters – assuming he can drag Mr. Neelix out of the bathtub."
"For someone who lives in a desert, having that much water available must be a delirious experience," Chakotay agreed, bathing his face in the aromatic vapours of his tea. "Not to mention the access to a food replicator…"
"Yours are broken, I presume?" Janeway asked.
Chakotay nodded.
"They had been broken already when we fled to the Badlands from Gul Evek… and there were other repairs, much higher on our 'to do' list."
Janeway winced in sympathy. "You've lived on emergency rations for how long? Weeks?"
"Less than a fortnight, actually," Chakotay shrugged. "That wasn't too bad, though. In the DMZ we usually had real food from one of the farming colonies, and in the Badlands, the repair stations kept their replicators in working order. It was the lack of medical supplies that caused us the most problems."
Their conversation was interrupted by a highly irritated Vulcan – if Tuvok's extraordinarily stiff demeanour was any indication – who shepherded the little alien into the ready room with the same enthusiasm with which he'd have cradled a toadlet of Rudolpha IV in his bare hands. Chakotay couldn't blame the Vulcan – Neelix seemed to extrude the same protective musk as those little amphibians, even after a bath. Unfortunately, he didn't share the toadlet's shyness at all.
"Captain," he exclaimed exuberantly, "allow me to express my sincerest thanks for your hospitality! I must admit, I haven't had access to a food rebel... Uh, uh, uh, replicator before."
If the almost painful expression on the Vulcan's usually blank face was any indication, Neelix must have made extensive use of the replicator… and probably caused a horrible mess in the guest quarters. Chakotay shuddered. Being a very fastidious person himself, he could only image what that mess had to be for a Vulcan. The whole race was anal retentive by design, and Janeway's chief of security was worse than most. Even on the Crazy Horse, his small cabin had been painfully clean and organized all the time.
"And to immerse myself in water!" the lumpy little alien enthused. "Oh, do you know what joy this is? No one around here wastes water in this manner. A good sand scrub... that's the best we can hope for."
"I'm glad that you have enjoyed yourself," Janeway answered diplomatically. "But we need your assistance now. As Mr. Tuvok has doubtlessly told you, we have reached the fifth planet and are ready to begin our search. Where should we look for our people?"
He could be wrong, of course, but it seemed to Chakotay as if, all of a sudden, Neelix had become very careful under his seemingly enthusiastic mask. There was a calculating glint in those small, bright eyes – a little too Ferengi-like for the Maquis leader's taste.
Neelix stepped closer to Janeway's desk and pointed with a stubby finger at the desktop monitor where the planet's image was slowly spinning before the dark background of space.
"If you scan the large southern continent," he said, "you'll find a range of extinct volcanoes. Follow the foothills north until you discover a dry riverbed. You'll find an encampment there."
Tuvok raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Do you believe our people might be at this location?"
"It's not impossible," Neelix replied brightly. "Maybe. Perhaps not." He smiled at Janeway convincingly, like someone used to the effect of his charms, and for one weird moment Chakotay considered the possibility that the little hedgehog might have been a heartbreaker among his own kind. One could never know, after all. "But we'll find them. We'll need several containers of water to bring for barter, though. "
Janeway nodded. "That can be arranged. Am I assuming rightly that you are willing to accompany us, Mr. Neelix?"
"Why, certainly!" Neelix exclaimed jovially. "You'll need my assistance, after all."
Which was exactly the fact that made Chakotay extremely wary about the upcoming negotiations. And seeing Janeway's doubtful look, he had the feeling that he was not alone with that feeling.
TBC