"We can share." (All)
Author's Note: This story takes place during the episode "The Haunting of Deck Twelve".
/
"That's all?" Crewman Tal whispers in dismay.
The emergency storage locker Harry opened is almost cleared out. Only one small ration kit is left. He takes it out and closes the locker, making a mental note to have it restocked as soon as possible if - when - all this is over.
"No, no, this is good news," he says. "It means whoever came through here before was alert and thinking clearly. When we get to Engineering, we'll have plenty of supplies."
"You think so?" Tal still looks pale and wild-eyed under the red emergency lights, and no wonder. She's been wandering the halls alone for four or five hours.
He opens the ration kit and holds up a juice box. "Hey, look. Strawberry. When was the last time you had anything to drink?"
"Um … this morning?"
"Wanna share one? Might help settle our nerves."
"My nerves, you mean," she says glumly, poking the straw into the juice box. "Sorry I'm such a mess."
"You're doing fine. The lockers were a good idea. C'mon, this way."
He could get used to being the senior officer. It's with a warm, protective feeling in his heart that he closes the ration kit, holds up the flashlight on his wrist and precedes Tal down the hall.
If only he could be sure that the rest of the crew was okay.
/
"I am … injured," Tuvok rasps. "Logic dictates … you take the mask and leave me."
A toxic cloud swirls at the other end of the Jefferies tube, waiting to choke them. Neelix cannot seem to get away from nebula gas. He almost let it take him two years ago; his finger was on the transporter controls when Naomi and Chakotay called him back. Sometimes he still hears it whispering to him, wanting to finish what it started.
Not this time.
"Nonsense. We'll share it. I'll get us both out, if I have to drag you by your pointy little ears!" He wraps an arm around Tuvok and hauls them both into the cloud, taking turns breathing through the oxygen mask as they go.
Breathe. Hold. Crawl. His lungs scream. His arms ache. Tuvok struggles to support his own weight, but he's still heavy. The hatch feels miles away. Breathe. Hold. Crawl.
You're not getting either of us, you monster. Not today.
/
"Mom, where's Neelix?" Naomi clings to her plush Flotter with one hand and Samantha with the other as they hurry through the corridor on the way to the nearest set of escape pods. Frightened people are rushing back and forth; they've almost been knocked apart several times already.
"He'll be fine," says Samantha, with more certainty than she feels. "Last I saw him, he was helping Commander Tuvok get to a pod. Tuvok's hurt, but still moving. They're both fine."
"Shouldn't we look for them?"
"Later. We need to evacuate. Captain's orders."
When they reach the pods, Naomi shrinks back. "I don't want to go by myself. What if my pod gets lost out there? What if I can't find you again?"
Samantha makes a split-second decision. It may be bending the regulations - Naomi's almost too big for this - but they can worry about that later.
"We can share," she says, climbing in first. "Come on, honey. I'll be with you the whole time."
Her brave little girl lifts her chin, squeezes Flotter, and climbs into the pod without a word.
/
"Torres to Chakotay, where's the Captain?"
"Still on board." It's the only explanation. Chakotay watches through the monitor inside his escape pod as Voyager's life support readings falter. She was supposed to take the last pod. She was supposed to be safe.
"We have to go back!" An escape pod breaks formation - that must be B'Elanna's - followed by another who must be thinking the same thing. "We have to help her - "
"Stand down, Lieutenant. Chakotay to all hands, move away from the ship. Repeat, MOVE AWAY!"
He's snarling at himself as well as B'Elanna. Leaving Kathryn behind goes against everything in his nature, but if the alien does destroy the ship, the crew has to survive. It's what she would want.
It feels like forever, but it's less than a minute until their captain's voice breaks through. Relief is far too weak a word for what he feels.
"Janeway to all hands, return to Voyager." He can almost see her weary smile. "I convinced our stowaway that we can share … at least until we find them a new home."
/
When Seven returns to Cargo Bay Two, she finds the children wide awake and hurrying to meet her, leaving a half finished picnic scattered over a blanket on the floor.
"Neelix said there was a monster on Deck Twelve," Mezoti bursts out.
"Not a monster," Icheb corrects her with an air of long-suffering patience. "An electromagnetic life form."
"Did it really try to kill you?" Azan asks. Rebi echoes him silently by tugging on Seven's arm.
"I suffered no permanent damage, and the life form is content."
"So it was true." Mezoti nudges Icheb. The twins exchange a worried look.
"You were not meant to know," says Seven. "There was no need for you to be frightened."
"We were Borg," says Icheb. "Alien life forms don't frighten us. Secrets do."
Seven feels convicted. Remembering how her parents used to whisper to each other when they thought she was asleep, she silently resolves to be more forthcoming in the future.
"Finish your meal," is all she says, settling down with them on the picnic blanket. "Clean up, and we will regenerate later."
Soon enough, they're squabbling over the last caramel apple like any other children, Borg or not.
"You had one already, that's not fair! I didn't get any yet - "
"You don't even like caramel. Seven, tell her - "
"Seven, make him give it back!"
Seven's only answer is to open her tool kit, bring out a laser scalpel, and slice the apple cleanly in half. Azan, still holding it, stares as it falls apart in his hand.
"I guess we can share," Mezoti says magnanimously, snatching up her half and taking a sticky bite. "We are a Collective, after all."
Seven finds her face twitching into a smile.
A Collective, indeed.