A/N: I don't own Star Trek or Voyager, but I might have some claim to the aliens I made up on my own. And if you believe that, I've got a bridge on Vulcan I'd like to sell you.
Captain's log, supplemental. First Officer Chakotay reporting. We're preparing to remove the aliens from Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Paris. In the meantime, we're heading towards the nearest M-class planet at full impulse.
They were truly prepared this time.
B'Elanna, the Doctor, and both aliens were in Engineering. The Doctor had fitted both with neural inhibitors to keep them from using whatever psychic powers they had, while keeping them in control - which was necessary to remove the aliens.
And of course, there was the security team and the force field.
B'Elanna tapped her commbadge. "Engineering to Bridge. Everything's in place. We're ready to initiate a static warp field."
"Good," replied Chakotay. "Keep me posted."
B'Elanna moved to a console. "All right…Here we go. Static warp field in five…four…three…two…one." She looked back to Tom and Captain Janeway.
The Doctor was scanning them with his tricorder, frowning. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing's changed." He closed the tricorder. "They lied to us."
"Hold on, Doctor," B'Elanna stopped him. "We might need to go to warp first." She activated her commbadge. "Engineering to Bridge. Nothing's changed. I think it might help if we went to warp one."
"Acknowledged," replied Chakotay, and a few moments passed. "We're at warp one now."
Still no change. "Try going to warp nine."
Nothing.
"Okay," admitted B'Elanna. "They lied to us."
"I could've told you that," said the Doctor.
Tuvok stood and walked over to Captain Janeway, who was sitting on the biobed.. Logically, either Lieutenant Paris or Captain Janeway would be sufficient for the meld; it did not matter who he chose. But Captain Janeway was his commanding officer, and took precedent through seniority and rank.
I will not comply with this procedure, hissed the alien within her.
"Whether you comply or not is irrelevant," Tuvok replied. "The safety of my captain and Voyager is imperative." He placed his fingertips on Janeway's katra points, the places where telepathic contact would be easiest.
In normal conditions, he would never force a mind-meld on another living being. Once, he had melded with a Betazoid crewmember, Lon Suder, to try to find a motive for a murder he'd committed and to give him some of his own emotional control. But Tuvok had inherited Suder's own violent tendencies, and he attempted to kill the crewmember with another, forced, mind-meld. He failed to kill Suder, though, perhaps because he regained his own Vulcan control just before he was finished. Suder and Tuvok melded on several occasions later as a form of anger management, but the Captain had specifically forbidden any mind-melds without her authorization.
But now, the Captain couldn't give her permission. Chakotay had. Logic suggested that he must force this meld. At the very least, they could gain tactical information on these aliens - a home world, a species name, something useful.
"My mind to your mind," he recited, echoing ancient traditions dating back to the time of Surak. She twisted her head; he knew that she would strangle him were her arms not restrained. He did not allow his fingers to break contact with her skin. "My thoughts to your thoughts."
She spit in his face. He ignored the indignity, not even bothering to wipe the spittle from his cheek.
Their thoughts became one.
Tuvok flinched, then removed his hand and stood up. "Finally," said the Doctor. "If it weren't for your heartbeat - or, err, brainwave activity, I wouldn't be sure you were ali --"
Tuvok shied away. "Stay away from me!" he shouted, fearful.
Oh, how fun, thought the Doctor. "Computer, erect a force field around Tuvok." Precautions rarely hurt anyone.
Tuvok backed against the force field's far wall. "Please," he begged. "Stay back!" He suddenly looked at something behind the Doctor.
"What are you looking at?" He turned around…
Just to see Captain Janeway running. He grabbed a spray hypo. "Security to decks four and five! Computer, deactivate force field!" he commanded the computer, and grabbed Tuvok's arm, dispensing the medication contained. "This is lexorin. It should help with the aftereffects of the mind-meld. Now, go!"
His mind was cleared suddenly. He ran after Janeway.
Turning, the corner, he almost ran into her. She was holding a phaser rifle, a whole security team unconscious at her feet. She saw him and aimed the rifle at Tuvok. The curious thing is, she said, is that you never told us how to fire this device. Perhaps it's on stun. Or you could be disintegrated the moment I shoot you.
Tuvok raised his arms in a surrendering posture. "What do you want?"
Take me to your transporter room, she directed. You will wait for my associate to join me, then beam us both directly into your shuttlecraft. She paused. You will also order your security team off that deck. Now.
Tuvok touched his commbadge. "Tuvok to security personnel on decks four and five. I suggest you move to deck six until I order otherwise." The alien motioned with the rifle for him to start walking.
When they finally reached the transporter room, Tuvok stepped behind the console. The alien stood on a transporter pad and aimed it at the door, poised to shoot anyone who entered.
Four minutes, twelve seconds later, Tom Paris entered, also armed. He looked at Tuvok with suspicion, but when he did nothing, he went and stood on the pad. Energize, he commanded.
Tuvok entered coordinates, and slid his hand up the transporter controls, initiating transport, and the two disappeared in a quantum mist.
Minus the phaser rifles.
The Doctor heard a transporter chime, and turned to see Janeway and Paris materializing behind him. "Computer, set up an isolation field," he ordered.
As soon as they stopped materializing, the alien inside Paris realized they were in sickbay. He tricked us! he screamed.
"Screaming about it won't get you anywhere," the Doctor informed him.
Captain's log, supplemental. First officer Chakotay reporting. No progress has been made on removing the aliens. In the meantime, we've made contact with a race known as the Degulians, who are capable of warp travel but use fusion power instead of matter/antimatter annihilation to power their ships . They have a large archive, where they believe may be information on these aliens.
The transporter room dissolved around him in a quantum mist, and was replaced by a large, open area. When transport finally finished, a woman stepped forward. "Hello," she greeted him. "I'm Lakoma. I'm supposed to bring you to the Archive and help you use it." Like all of her race, she had a distinct green cast to her skin due to copper-based blood, but besides having somewhat small facial features, there was little to distinguish her from the average human.
"I am Tuvok," he identified himself. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. "Where is this Archive?"
"This way," she said, and began walking, motioning for him to follow.
After some time, they reached a large pyramid-shaped building, made of glass in various colors. "A fascinating design," observed Tuvok. "Do you know who designed it?"
"No, nobody does," said Lakoma as they entered the building. "It's one of the few pieces of information that isn't in the Archive." She related more of the Archive's history as they walked to the main bank of access terminals, where several other Dengulian men and women were working.
"The Archive's been here for many centuries. We think it was built by a race of extraterrestrials, but no races we've encountered are advanced enough to have built it. It contained a lot of information to start out with - other planets, stellar phenomenon, that sort of thing. It also gathers knowledge on its own - art, music, historical records. We're not sure how but we don't really care to know."
They reached an empty terminal. "Archive," she began. "List any known alien species that fits the following parameters: It must be non-corporeal, and it must have the capability to take control of a humanoid and his or her life functions."
"Working," said a male voice. "One entry found."
"Only one?" wondered Lakoma. "Usually it spits out two or three and I have to narrow it down from there…Not that I'm complaining. Show entry."
"Necromian. Non-corporeal life-form known to inhabit several star systems. Necromians are noted for the ability to inhabit the bodies of various humanoid species, and control various aspects of its functions. It is often needed for the species to reproduce. They do not force this inhabitation on unwilling individuals except in extreme cases. Also notable is their ability to sense warp fields, as well as their intensity. Most Necromians live on a small fleet of generational ships, which tour the immediate area - around fifty light-years, an area encompassing Dengulian space - looking for new hosts. The Necromians are on friendly terms with the Dengulians and make regular contact."
"Would there be any occasion in which a Necromian might force inhabitation?" queried Tuvok.
"One case is known. A young Necromian entered the reproductive cycle earlier than anticipated. He was unable to find a suitable, willing host, and, being near death, took one out of desperation."
"When is the next time they plan to make contact?"
Instead of answering, it provided a list of the next three contact times, the next one being about four Standard hours away.
Tuvok turned to Lakoma. "I must return to Voyager. Would you allow us to scan your database and download some of the information?"
"I'd have to ask my superiors, but yes, I'm sure that can be arranged."
"Good. Thank you for your help." He activated his commbadge. "Tuvok to Voyager. One to beam up."
The Archive building dissolved around him.
Four hours and forty-five minutes later, the Ops console beeped. "Incoming transmission," Harry reported. "The Dengulians are receiving a transmission from the Necromians. They want us to join it on a 3-way comm. link."
"Put it through," instructed Chakotay. The screen flashed. The Dengulian ambassador was on the left, and another was behind him, perhaps an aide. On the right was what he presumed to be the Necromian ambassador.
"It's very good to see you, Ambassador," greeted the Dengulian.
And you as well, replied the Necromian. He noticed Chakotay and leaned forward a bit to get a better look. I'm afraid I don't recognize you, he said. He spoke in the same deep bass voice.
"This is Commander Chakotay of the Federation," the Dengulian introduced. "There's been an incident and we believe some of your species may be partly responsible."
Chakotay explained in detail what had happened. "We're unable to remove the Necromians ourselves," he concluded. "Can you help us?"
I may be able to, replied the ambassador. I'll arrange for a ship to rendezvous with you in one day. I'll be there personally.
"I look forward to meeting you," replied Chakotay. "Now, I'm sure you have some catching up to do, so I'll leave you to it. Voyager, out."
Chakotay entered Sickbay, with the ambassador behind him. They'd been unwilling to risk transporting the Necromian stowaways to the brig, and had decided to simply leave them behind the force field.
These are the two who have been taken? queried the ambassador.
"Yes," replied Chakotay.
Who are you? demanded the Necromian that inhabited Tom.
I have come to ask you some questions, said the ambassador. How long have you been separated from our people?
Slowly, but surely, the truth came out. The one inside Tom had been part of a group of Necromians that traditionally seek seclusion during the reproductive cycle. During the last stages of the cycle, an accident occurred, and the alien's original host was killed. The second alien, inside Janeway, resulted, and the two attempted to reach their ship without violating the Necromian beliefs about forced inhabitation.
Their reproductive cycles had struck again, however, and the first ship they found was Voyager.
"I don't understand," said Chakotay. "Why the whole song and dance?"
Many species are understandably uncomfortable with the thought of an alien reproducing inside their heads, said Tom's alien. We couldn't accept the possibility that you would turn us away.
We felt that a deception would suffice to gain your consent, added Janeway's alien. If you had not suspected him of attempting to gain control of the ship, our plan might have succeeded. We would have completed our reproductive cycle, and leave the bodies, who would be able to recover and return to their ship.
And what if they had not? demanded the ambassador. There could have easily been a problem. And how would you care for your young? You are well aware, I hope, that young Necromians require at least another week of incubation in a host.
A few days was sufficient for me, retorted the one residing in Janeway.
But are you certain it would be sufficient for your young? he argued. Every cycle is different - what works in one may fail in another. She was silent. Fortunately, I anticipated that you could be about to reproduce, he continued, and I brought two hosts so you may incubate the young.
"Now, hold on," interrupted Chakotay. "I'm all for allowing them to finish what they started, but shouldn't we get their consent?" He meant Tom and Captain Janeway.
I agree, said the alien occupying Tom. I will give you about thirty minutes to reach a decision. He released his control, as did the one controlling Janeway.
Chakotay felt a slight sensation of déjà vu but said nothing.
Janeway massaged her temples. "Anybody get the registry number of the shuttlecraft that hit me?" Tom seemed to be in the same state.
"I don't have much time, so I'll be brief." He summarized everything he knew, with the ambassador filling in the blank spots. "And now they want to use your bodies to reproduce," he finished.
"Are there any other options?" she asked.
"Not really," he said. "From what I've seen, they're in an agitated enough mental state that they might not really care any more if you consent or not. They chose you and Tom, and they want to use you and Tom."
The Necromian ambassador stepped forward a bit. If I may. The fact that they forced inhabitation suggests to me that they're incredibly desperate. It may be best to simply consent. The process will only take a week, and we will return you to your ship when they are finished. Think about it, he urged.
And so she did. She thought…and thought a little more…"All right. I suppose it's the only thing that's finally going to settle this." Tom agreed with her.
"Just remember one thing, Captain," said Chakotay.
"What?" she asked, mystified.
Chakotay smiled. "It's all in your head."
Captain's log, supplemental. It's good to be back. We've departed on friendly terms with the Necromians and the Dengulians, but neither could provide us with deuterium, and our reserves are running low.
"Coffee, black." She waited for the cup to materialize.
"Don't you think we should be trying to conserve as much energy as we can?" asked Tom, who was sitting on the couch. "Maybe you should skip a cup."
"I haven't had coffee in over a week," she retorted. "I'm not skipping anything." She took a sip. "I've been wondering…If they hadn't forced their control on us, would we have helped them?"
Tom tilted his head a bit. "What do you mean?"
"Well…" She hesitated, forming her words carefully. "If they had said, 'Hi, we need to reproduce and we want to use your body'…I think I might have turned them away." She took another sip. "But they showed us how desperate they were, how much they needed our help."
"That doesn't make much sense to me," said Tom.
"I know," she admitted. "But that's my story, and I'm sticking to it." They both smiled.
A/N: I'm finished with this story. Done. The End. No more. Constructive criticism is welcome - advise me, don't flame me.