Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager is property of Paramount Pictures and all respective cast, crew, and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fanfiction enjoyment.
Summary: An away mission goes terribly wrong for Harry Kim and Tom Paris. One is badly injured and the other's past comes back to haunt him. One will be forever changed and the other may not survive.
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Takes place after the episode Nothing Human and before Thirty Days.
Poisoning
Captain's Log Stardate 52180.3, it has been five days since our encounter with the creatures we have dubbed the Apex, short for apex predator, a biological term for a predator at the top of the food chain. With no apparent enemies and the creatures' intelligence and cunning, the name seems appropriate. The Doctor and Lieutenant Paris have been working around the clock to find a cure for the poison that has been invading Ensign Kim's body, but so far, there have not been any advances. In the meantime, I am left to decide what to do with our newly discovered alien species.
The captain sat in her Ready Room chair, looking at the padd in her hands. The device contained the coordinates for a warning beacon. The numbers were perfect, thanks to Mr. Tuvok's calculations. The beacon would be high enough to be out of reach of the Apex's weapons but low enough for a ship to detect the lifeforms if they used long-range sensors; enough to determine that the warning was not a lie.
The door to the captain's Ready Room chirped.
"Come in," Janeway said, still holding the padd in her hand.
First Officer Chakotay stepped in.
"Commander."
"Captain," Chakotay gestured to the padd, "Coordinates for the beacon?"
The captain nodded.
Chakotay looked behind him to make sure the door was closed. He stood silent for a moment; then paced in front of the captain's desk.
"Something I can do for you, Commander?" Janeway asked.
Chakotay faced Janeway and took a deep breath before speaking.
"I'm here to request that you not launch the beacon."
Janeway leaned back in her chair. She wasn't surprised by the request, but it still managed to catch her off guard. She gestured to the chair in front of her desk and Chakotay sat down.
"May I ask why?"
"Permission to speak freely?"
The captain nodded.
"What you are doing is wrong. By sending a beacon warning others to avoid this planet, you are condemning an entire species to starvation."
"What choice do I have?" Janeway asked, "We've tried talking to the Apex for days and they still refuse to respond."
"And for that they deserve to die? To starve to death?"
"What about their victims?" Janeway countered, "Did they deserve to die? Does Harry deserve to suffer being poisoned, possibly killed?"
"You know that's not what I meant," Chakotay said immediately, "… All I'm saying, is that by warning others and protecting them, we could be wiping out an entire species."
"So what do you propose we do?" Janeway replied, "Just continue on to the Alpha Quadrant as if nothing had ever happened? How many others will die when all they wanted to do was to help? We're talking about species that preys upon humanity. A species that feeds off innocent beings."
"But that's in their nature," Chakotay said, "Maybe this is the only way they can eat. On Earth, many animals, lions, crocodiles, they pick off the weakest prey in a herd because they are easy to catch; many of their prey are the injured, the young. Can you say it's wrong for them to do that? That they're preying upon innocent beings?
"On a spirit walk with my father, I once saw a young antelope being attacked by a crocodile. Its mother came back to rescue it, but both of them ended up being killed and eaten. Was the crocodile preying upon humanity?"
Janeway paused. Her first officer had a point.
Chakotay continued, "Captain, don't forget that it wasn't too long ago when our ancestors killed and ate other living beings. It wasn't until the food replicator was invented, when we stopped preying upon other species; lower life forms."
The captain rose from her chair and slowly walked to the tall windows in her Ready Room. She stood for a moment deep in thought.
"What if we offered this technology to the Apex?"
"Food replicators? You mean program human parts into them to eat?" Chakotay cringed, disgusted at the thought.
"It would be better than preying upon living beings. If we can change, why can't they?"
"…What if they don't want to change?"
When B'Elanna Torres entered the mess hall, she noticed the lieutenant sitting by himself at a table far away from the rest of the officers. She approached the table and looked at the bowl, filled to the brim with Tarameeseum hair chowder.
"You haven't touched your soup," she commented.
"Huh?" Tom turned around and saw his girlfriend, "Oh, well, I owe it to Harry for him to try it first. And there's no way he's going to back out on me."
"How is Harry?" B'Elanna asked, her voice filled with concern.
"The same," Tom sighed, "the Doctor and I have tried everything. Borg nanoprobes, extracting the poison, white blood cell infusion, antivenom, nothing's working."
B'Elanna sat down across from Tom, noticing his red, baggy eyes and rumpled hair. She had looked for him in Sickbay, but the Doctor directed her to the mess hall. He had ordered the lieutenant there when he discovered Tom hadn't eaten or slept for the past two days.
"And how are you?" B'Elanna asked carefully.
Tom smiled ruefully, "What is with you two? First the Doctor... now you. In case it's not apparent enough, Harry's the one who's injured, not me. I'm fine."
"Are you?"
"Of course," Tom replied, hoping B'Elanna wouldn't notice the waver in his voice.
"Okay…" B'Elanna said starting to lose her patience, "I'm tired of beating around the bush. Is there something you want to tell me, Tom? Like what really happened on the planet?"
"What?" Tom said incredulously, "Are you suggesting I lied?!"
"No, but I get the feeling that you're hiding something."
"'You get the feeling,'" Tom repeated as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth, "Are you trying to psychoanalyze me now? You trying to become counselor or something?"
Tom laughed, but the lighthearted noise was hollow.
"That's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one. A Klingon counselor! Do me a favor, B'Elanna, if you're trying to become a counselor, don't quit your day job. You're probably the least qualified of all 150 people on board."
B'Elanna's hands instinctively clenched into fists and she grit her teeth.
"Alright…" she said slowly, more to control her anger than anything else, "I don't need this. You don't want my help, that's fine with me." She jumped out of her chair and started to walk away, but then turned back around and looked Tom squarely in the eyes.
"When I first met you, I thought you were a pompous, arrogant jerk. And now I realize…. I was absolutely right. I don't know how Harry has stayed your friend for this long. It's amazing you have any friends at all, because you certainly didn't do anything to deserve them!"
She stormed out of the mess hall, leaving a stunned crowd in her wake. Tom looked around, forcing a smile to show the others he was unfazed by her comments. But in seconds, his smile turned downward, and he turned his chair around, seeming to look at the starry space, but he gazed beyond them, lost in thought.
"We have a proposal to make," Janeway said over the comm. link, "in twenty minutes, we will fly to within transporter range of your planet and beam down a device we believe can be the key to a compromise. There is an automated message on the device that explains how to use it. Please, at least consider our offer."
Janeway nodded to Tuvok, who pressed a button on his console.
"Recording stopped."
"Send the beacon."
With another series of commands, Tuvok instructed the computer to launch a beacon containing Janeway's message, down to the surface of the planet. The captain knew that what she was about to propose, was a breach of the Prime Directive. Starfleet technology was not to be shared with other beings, especially hostile ones. However, she had little other choice. If sharing Starfleet technology meant preserving the survival of one species and protecting the lives of countless others, then so be it. If a species that was just trying to survive could be considered hostile, then practically every species they encountered, even the human race, could be considered hostile.
Twenty minutes after the Apex received the message, there was no response from them; however, that was far from uncommon. Voyager veered sharply downward towards the planet to come into transporter range.
"They are powering their weapons," Tuvok warned, looking at the display on his console.
"Well, now we know what their answer is," Chakotay said.
"Full impulse!" the captain ordered.
Voyager sped downwards as the hum of a weapons system being brought to life resounded all around it.
"We're within transporter range!" Tuvok shouted.
"Energizing!" the officer in the transporter room took the cue from the security chief.
A replicator dematerialized off Voyager and rematerialized on the planet, just as a phaser stream landed directly on Voyager's hull. The ship slammed to the right, knocking everyone off their feet.
"Shields up!"
Tuvok, scrambled back to his console and raised Voyager's defenses. The ensign at navigation pulled the ship sharply upward. Voyager moved with the slightest commands, but she couldn't help gritting her teeth as the floor pushed up from under her.
"Get us out of here!"
Voyager's warp engine glowed sapphire a split second before it shot back up to space, taking it out of weapon's range.
The captain breathed a sigh of relief as a report of minor damage and minimal injuries was reported. Hull integrity was brought down to forty-percent in one shot, but that could be restored.
"I don't know about you," Chakotay commented, "but I'm getting tired of playing duck and dodge."
A crowd of Apex gathered around the strange device as an automated message featuring Captain Kathryn's Janeway's face and instructions played on a side panel.
"You can produce almost anything edible on this device," Janeway's message finished, "we have found that this replicator has eliminated our species' need to kill other living beings. It provides all nutritional requirements our species needs, and it can do the same for you."
One of the Apex stormed away, disgusted and insulted by the technology built to change its entire species' lifestyle. Another peered at it, then brought its massive claws back. It would take pleasure in destroying the "replicator" from the lower species up above.
However, as it swept its claws forward, its young, an Apex in light blue color, strode before it, stepping between his raised claws and the replicator.
A heated series of screeches ensued between the two, each pointing intermittently upward, in the direction of the ship the aliens called Voyager. One spoke with loud, high-pitched angry screeches. The other referred to the ship in softer tones. Finally, the light blue Apex turned around and pressed the series of buttons the automated message instructed it to do. Several minutes and trial programming later, a human leg was replicated.
The older Apex tried to stop its young, but he sank his fangs into the artificial food before he could stop him. Horrified, the older Apex stood stunned, half expecting his young to drop dead before his eyes. But his son did not. In fact, his son responded with a series of delighted clicks, and looked at the rest of the crowd, encouraging them to do as he did. He even offered them to share a taste of the replicated human leg, but none stepped forward.
Tom Paris slipped out of his uniform and stepped into the shower.
"Computer, activate water shower," he said flatly.
He closed his eyes as the hot water rained down on his head and back. He rarely took water showers, usually preferring the dirt on his body to be removed by the sonic shower. However, this time, the water seemed appropriate, even needed.
"Computer, increase the force of the water and increase temperature by three degrees."
The soothing water became hot and the drops of water became tiny needles, prickling his body. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, the last several days replaying over and over in his mind.
"I'm not sure about this…" Harry Kim's voice echoed in his mind.
"There's something really wrong…" Harry's voice repeated over and over.
Minutes later, Tom sat on his bed in his sleepwear. He buried his face in his hands and let out a slow breath. He laid his head on his pillow and pulled the covers over his body.
"I'm not sure about this…" Harry's voice again echoed in his mind.
Tom tossed and turned for several minutes before his exhaustion took over and he fell into a fitful, disturbed sleep.
"Any indication the Apex have accepted our offer?" Janeway asked as she returned to the Bridge.
"No," Chakotay replied, shaking his head, "They've masked their life signs again so we don't know anymore whether they're still investigating it. No sign of any response beacon either."
Janeway's recorded message had requested a response message be sent containing their acceptance or decline of the replicator; she doubted they would respond, but that didn't stop her from trying.
"But long range scanners indicate the replicator is still intact," Chakotay continued on a more hopeful note, "that could mean they're at least considering our offer."
"It could also mean that they are ignoring the device," Tuvok pointed out.
The light blue Apex slept in front of the foreign device, disguising himself as a twig. Its father approached the replicator, looking around. The others had ignored the device, some leaving to find tools to take it apart. There must be some technology inside they could use to strengthen their weapons array.
However, when the older came within a few feet of the replicator, it stared at the twig. It recognized its son no matter what form he assumed.
A gruff screech was all that was needed for the blue Apex to return to its original form. Another heated series of screeches ensued between the two. The older Apex pointed behind him, but the younger one would not move. The older Apex knew the rest would arrive ready to take the device apart, but his son remained where he was, refusing to budge.
B'Elanna Torres stormed down the corridor, still seething from last night. She headed for Holodeck 2. It was an unscheduled visit, but a needed one. A Klingon battle program should dissipate her anger… at least she hoped so.
She entered the Holodeck without looking at the control panel and before the doors fully opened. She stopped when she heard a hum around her.
"Sorry," she said without looking up, "I didn't know a program was in progress."
She was about to leave, but let her gaze wander. She looked up and saw a familiar scene around her. The program was in black and white. Ancient computers with raised buttons and large dials were all around the room. The hum she heard was from the computer to her left, indicating that it was turned on. She recognized this program. It was an episode from "The Adventures of Captain Proton" a program favorite of her boyfriend's. Only the scenery was running, no characters milled about.
"On second thought," she said without looking for the person who was obviously running the program, "I take that back. I don't apologize. In fact, I…"
Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of something hurtful to say.
"… never mind," she turned around to leave, but a voice from the far end of the room stopped her.
"Wait B'Elanna," Tom said, "please, don't go."
Carefully, B'Elanna turned around and stepped between the computers, finding Tom Paris sitting on a set of small stairs that led to a platform. His hair was a mess, his eyes still baggy, and he looked even more exhausted than last night. It seemed sleep did no good to relieve whatever her boyfriend was battling.
Tom looked into B'Elanna's eyes before he spoke.
"About last night… I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You're absolutely right… I don't deserve you, or Harry, or anything either one of you have done for me."
To B'Elanna's surprise, her anger quickly dissolved. She wondered if this was her human side taking over.
"Yeah, well…" she said fiddling with her hands uneasily, "I think we both said things last night we really didn't mean."
She made sure to return her boyfriend's gaze.
"Care to explain why you reacted so angrily?"
"… Not particularly," Tom said after a long moment's hesitation. However, his tone was far different from its defensive nature last night. His voice was defeated, downcast.
B'Elanna stared at Tom for several moments and an uneasily silence settled between the two.
"I… uh," Tom said, struggling to fill the silence, "ran this program hoping to clear my mind, but then I realized the person I usually share it with isn't here."
B'Elanna nodded slightly. She knew who he most enjoyed playing Captain Proton with.
"He'll be okay," she said, hoping her voice would sound more reassuring than she actually felt.
"We don't know that," Tom countered, "The Doctor and I have less than two days to figure out how to heal Harry before he suffers permanent injury, and we've come up with nothing so far."
Another silence blanketed between the two before B'Elanna spoke.
"If I think of anything, I'll let you know," she said. She had no medical knowledge, but it seemed the appropriate thing to say.
"Thanks."
The chief engineer sighed, and turned back around to the entrance.
"'I don't know about this,'" Tom said as she started to walk away.
B'Elanna turned to face Tom. He sat staring at the floor, lost in thought.
"You don't know about what?" she asked.
"'I don't know about this,'" Tom repeated before looking back up at B'Elanna, "that's one of the last things Harry said to me before he was injured."
B'Elanna made her way back to Tom and sat beside him.
"Six years ago, before I joined of the Maqui," Tom continued, "I was the Starfleet pilot of a shuttle. My first mission as a Starfleet officer was to shuttle supplies from one Deep Space station to another; something I saw extremely boring and a waste of my piloting skills. After all, what would women think if they saw an 'admiral's son shuttling supplies'?"
"So, I asked my three officers if they would like to have some fun. I was going to shuttle twice as many supplies in half the time. I was determined to show everyone I was more than a mere supply chief."
Tom took a deep breath, gathering strength to go on.
"I loaded our shuttle with twice as much supplies and punched the shuttle to full impulse, as fast as the engines would take us. I didn't care about Starfleet protocol or the fact that I was pushing us to unsafe speeds. One of my crew, Junior Ensign Daniel Hayes, had doubts. Just before we jumped into impulse, that's exactly what Ensign Hays said, 'I don't know about this.'
"But I ordered him to continue, and he complied, because I outranked him. Everything was fine for about five minutes; then the computer detected a subspace distortion straight ahead. But we were going too fast to avoid it. We hit the distortion head on…. Our shuttle was thrown two hundred kilometers off course. There was a breach in the warp coils and I had to jettison the core.
"A Starfleet rescue team beamed us out, but it was too late. Hayes suffered third degree burns over ninety-percent of his body from the warp core breach, Junior Ensign Rictor had blunt-force trauma to her head, and Junior Ensign Hernandez sustained irreparable injuries to her entire spine. Everyone died."
B'Elanna drew in a shaky breath. Tom had never talked about this before. A part of her wanted to ask why, but she simply reached out her hand and rested it on Tom's hands. Even with the light touch, she could feel how tense he was.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, not knowing what else to day.
Tom lowered his head, staring back at the floor.
"After that, I joined the Maqui, partly because I knew I had no hope of a Starfleet career; mostly, it was to distract me. I didn't want to think about the three lives my little stunt caused. But I was caught before my first mission carried out. That's when Captain Janeway approached me with the offer of a second chance.
"I jumped at it. I was determined to erase the past; to show everyone that I wasn't the rebellious Starfleet-officer-turned-traitor everyone made me out to be. But everywhere I went, my past seemed to preclude me. Fellow Starfleet officers wouldn't talk to me, senior officers wouldn't even look my way…
"Harry was the first person who looked beyond that. He offered me something I hadn't been offered in a very long time… friendship.
"And now, Harry may die because of me. I'll be responsible for his death, just like the three junior ensigns on that shuttle I piloted. I guess history is doomed to repeat itself."
B'Elanna turned her head to look at Tom's downcast eyes. He took slow, shuddering breaths, a sign that he was holding back tears.
"Tom, this wasn't your fault."
"Oh yeah," Tom said with a hint of frustration in his voice, "how so? Six years ago, I cost three lives. Now, my best friend might die because of me."
"But with the shuttle, you knew you were putting yourself in a dangerous situation. When Harry and you beamed down the planet, no one knew it was risky. No one knew the planet was inhabited; let alone, by hostile aliens that feed off us."
"Harry knew," Tom replied softly, "he didn't know the planet was inhabited by these aliens, but he knew something was wrong.
"When Harry inspected the plasma containers of the shuttle that was shot down, he immediately knew there was something up. He commented about the empty plasma container, saying it was 'weird.' Then, he was suspicious about the burn marks on the shuttle's hull.
"When we detected the second life sign from the cave, he wanted to stay at the crash site to investigate, but I insisted we follow the life sign. He's an ensign; I'm a lieutenant. I ranked higher than him, so my orders ruled…."
Tom's voice trailed off. It took several moments before he could continue.
" I was so focused on finding the pilot that sent the distress call that nothing was going to stop me from rescuing her. I saw that away mission as another opportunity to vindicate myself from my past. Nothing was going to stop me from being the hero on that mission… not even my best friend. I took another calculated risk, and Harry paid the price."
B'Elanna squeezed Tom's hands and Tom let out a shuddering breath.
"I-I don't know what I'll do if anything ever happens to him."
Before B'Elanna could speak, Tom's combadge chirped.
"Doctor to Paris."
Tom slapped his combadge, his fatigue disappearing in an instant.
"Yes, Doctor?'
"Come to Sickbay, please. I have found something you should see."
A crowd of Apex had yet again gathered around the device. This time, however, the contraption was protected by a young blue Apex. The blue Apex spoke to the crowd, demonstrating the device.
Another young Apex stepped forward, but its parent pulled it back. All simply stared at the young Apex, then at its father, the one that should have been controlling him. His father simply let out a tiny, almost indecipherable screech; an Apex show of embarrassment.
Finally, another Apex, this time, an older Apex with green pigment stepped forward. She programmed the replicator to dispense a human chest, then slowly dipped her fangs into the artificial flesh. Then, pleased by the taste, the Apex sank its fangs further, the purple poison dripping on the food.
The others simply looked at her in disgust.
Tom half jogged, half ran into Sickbay. He stopped when he entered the room. By this time, Harry still on the Sickbay biobed, covered with a sterile blanket. His damaged uniform had been taken off. His body was encased in the computerized dome that was used to assess a patient's condition in detail. He still lay on his right side, but underneath the computerized dome, a soft medical support cushions kept him on his side while preventing bedsores.
As many times as Tom been in Sickbay the last several days, the sight of his friend in such vulnerable condition still sent shock waves down his spine.
"Doctor," Tom immediately faced the doctor at a medical display near the biobed.
"Mr. Paris," the Doctor greeted, "you're well rested, I hope?'
"Yeah, yeah, sure, what did you call me about?" Tom asked as he strode to stand next to the Doctor.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows; so much for his pleasantries subroutine.
"I've discovered why our previous attempts to combat the poison haven't worked," the Doctor pressed some buttons on the display panel and an image of a DNA strand appeared, "this is the DNA of the poison from the sample I used to create the antivenom five days ago."
"The antivenom that didn't work?" Tom asked.
The Doctor nodded, then pressed another button. The DNA strand on the display moved up to the top of the screen and another strand showed up in a horizontal bar in the middle of the screen.
"This is the DNA of the poison sample I took an hour ago."
He pressed a third button and yet another strand showed up at the bottom of the screen.
"The DNA from the poison sample I took a few minutes ago."
Tom looked closely at the screen.
"All three DNA strands are all completely different," he said incredulously, "… but these are all from the poison sample you took from that Apex, right?"
The Doctor nodded.
"I believe that the poison from these Apex creatures, have a modulating DNA sequence. This is probably a biological feature of changelings like them. Since I've never encountered such changelings, I never thought this would be possible. But apparently it is.
"I did some research, and calculate that the poison changes its DNA sequence every twenty minutes, ten seconds. Now I know why our previous attempts have resulted in failure. The antivenom I created uses a diluted form of the poison so the blood sample I took from Mr. Kim would create antibodies to fight the poison..."
"No wonder it didn't work," Tom said, starting to put the pieces together, "The antibodies created in Harry's blood sample were taught to seek the DNA coding of the poison sample; the pure sample you took from the Apex. But the poison in Harry's body must've changed DNA hundreds of times by then."
"Exactly."
"The same with the nanoprobes," Tom said, "We programmed the nanoprobes to seek the same DNA sequence from the sample we used for the antivenom."
"When one method didn't work," the Doctor explained, "we moved right on to the next. We tried the nanoprobes right after the antivenom failed. Before the poison sample changed its DNA sequence.
"After that, we moved on to other methods of combating the poison in Mr. Kim's body."
"You didn't want to inject any more poison in Harry than was already in him," Tom said, recalling the past several days, "What made you discover the problem now?"
"I thought that maybe I could find the source of the poison's energy. The poison feeds off Mr. Kim's body. Maybe I could develop a medical serum that feeds off the poison's energy. Give the poison a 'taste of its own medicine,' so to speak.
"That's required another poison sample. When I brought up the DNA sequence to see if I could isolate the code that is the source of the poison's energy, I thought something was different. I was right."
"Well can you?"
"Can I what?"
"Can you give the poison a taste of its own medicine?"
"I don't know. I'll have to do more research to see."
"I'll help you," Tom said immediately.
The Doctor watched as Tom busied himself from one medicine cabinet to another, gathering the required diagnostic tools. He had never seen his student so motivated. However, he wished it were under better circumstances. Usually, Tom used any excuse to get out of Sick Bay duty, referring to his medical duties as 'being a nurse' and doing nothing to hide his annoyance. But now, Tom's best friend was in critical condition. To say that the lieutenant now had a biased interest in his medical studies would be a gross understatement.
The Doctor looked from Tom's best friend lying on the biobed to Tom. He never thought he'd think this, but he wished for the old, combative Tom to be back.
Tom threw the hypospray down in frustration.
"Doctor, come on! Think!" Tom shouted, "What else can we do?"
It was now a week since Harry was injured. From this point on, both the Doctor and Tom knew that Harry would suffer irreparable injury. What exactly those injuries were, neither wanted the opportunity to find out.
"I am!" the Doctor shouted back, "I haven't turned myself off for the past seven days, and I've been trying to heal Mr. Kim every day."
"And despite what you've found," Toms said through clenched teeth, "we're still no closer to finding a cure!"
Tom began pacing across Sickbay.
"A serum that would use the poison's own energy against it…"
"Tried it."
"The DNA coding of the poison's energy source."
"Tried that. I found the coding for the energy but that still didn't work. Even with more energy, the medicine just can't keep up with the constant DNA modulation of the poison. The medicine barely made progress before the DNA of the poison in Mr. Kim's body changed and the medicine was rendered useless."
"Shocking the poison so its DNA doesn't change?"
"We tried every method of that. None worked. The only viable option is an electric pulse throughout the poison, but that would require killing the patient first."
"What about…" Tom's voice trailed off.
The Doctor looked at the lieutenant. He was rattling off every method they had tried, almost as if repeating them would somehow spark a workable idea neither had tried before.
It didn't.
"We can't just give up!" Tom shouted.
"I have no intention of doing that," the Doctor said slowly and deliberately, "but shouting at me isn't going to get us anywhere."
Tom's combadge chirped.
"WHAT?" he shouted before thinking.
"Mr. Paris?" the captain's voice came through the comm. link.
"Captain," Tom let out a slow breath, his tone lowering considerably, "I'm sorry. I-I just… Is there something I can do for you?"
"I just wanted a status of Mr. Kim's prognosis," Janeway responded. She did not mention the lieutenant's rude response, knowing the stress he must be under. The rest of the officers on the Bridge listened intently. Tom wasn't the only one concerned about the patient.
Tom opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out. It was as if a part of him refused to accept the news.
"I'm afraid there's been no change," the Doctor answered, "the poison has spread to Mr. Kim's abdomen. From now on, he will suffer permanent injury. What specifically that is, we won't be able to tell until he regains consciousness."
Janeway stared off in the distance, not wanting to believe what the Doctor had just said, but the trained captain inside her forced her to face the truth.
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Janeway asked breathlessly.
"… Not really," the Doctor said after some thought, "Mr. Paris and I are the ones with the most medical experience and we've exhausted all our ideas…. But we'll keep working at it."
"Very well, Janeway out."
Everyone on the Bridge descended into a solemn silence. The captain remained in her chair, staring at the planet detected on long-range sensors; the same planet that housed the Apex.
Suddenly, the captain stood up, rising out of her chair.
"Captain?" Chakotay asked, noticing the familiar look on her face.
"Mr. Tuvok," the captain said, "prepare to launch a beacon to the planet. I have an idea."
The Apex watched as another strange device descended on their planet, guided by an independent power system. Their weapons array fired at it, pounding it with one phaser stream after another, but the forecefields around it were strong. The device stayed intact, protected by the shielding.
When it landed, the Apex discovered it was much smaller than the "food replicator" the aliens had sent before. This one was about half the size with just a display screen and two buttons. As soon as it landed, Janeway's now familiar face appeared on the screen.
"We don't know whether or not you have accepted our food replicator," her automated image said, getting right to the point, "but we want you to know something."
The image switched from Janeway's face to one of the beings an adult Apex had attacked. This one's back still had the deep fang wounds covered in purple poison. His breathing was unsteady and it seemed that he struggled with each breath.
A tall being, the one they tried to attack, but couldn't because he was protected by the being now lying on the bed, stood beside the bed. The Apex had no idea how a human looked when it was sad, but most could at least understand this one was not happy.
Janeway's voice could be heard while the image stayed on the human lying on the bed.
"This is the person you attacked. His name is Harry Kim. He's been an exemplary officer on my ship, and has touched the lives of everyone he's met… and he's dying. Because of your species' behavior, his body is slowly breaking down. The poison you injected into his body will soon overwhelm his internal systems and he'll die. This is what you and your people are doing to us and the other species you feed off.
"You are killing us. Please, consider our offer. By using the replicator, you won't have to work so hard for your food and other species can live in peace. I'm not sure if you have suffered casualties yet, but no doubt you will someday encounter a vengeful species. Not the human species; we don't believe in killing others, but other species may not feel the same way."
The screen turned back to Janeway's image.
"We are giving you the opportunity to prevent violence from both sides. At least talk with us. Peace can start with you. If you know a way to heal our friend, help him. The violence can stop right here, right now." Janeway had made sure to enunciate the last few words.
The light blue Apex reached its claws out to the screen and touched a control button. The message played again. It gazed at the victim on the bed and its massive eyes contracted, the human equivalent of a frown.
Days later, there was still no response from the Apex. But Tom Paris and the Doctor didn't have the luxury to worry about that. The two were gathered in Sickbay. The lieutenant scrolled through a medical database at a console, poring through every viable option. The Doctor accessed every one of his medical memory files, sparing no minor byte of information.
Time had run out.
Suddenly, the diagnostic panel next to biobed Harry Kim had been lying on for the past two weeks, erupted in a cacophony of alarms. Harry's struggled breathing became even more ragged.
Tom ran to the console. Harry's vitals were failing.
The computer chip placed on Harry's neck to steady his vitals, lit up, flashing rapidly. The computer was trying to compensate for the sudden drop in stats, but it could only do so much.
"Doctor!" Tom shouted desperately.
The Doctor raced to the patient on the biobed. He opened the diagnostic hatch encased over Harry's body and carefully placed Harry on his back. In a split second, he brought up a full assessment of the patient on an adjacent panel. The poison had invaded Harry's entire body. By this time, Harry had stopped breathing.
"Neural stimulator."
Tom already had the hypospray loaded and ready.
The Doctor pressed the hypospray against Harry's neck…. But his vitals were still dropping.
"Doctor, what do we do?" Tom asked desperately, "We have to get this poison out of him now!"
"I don't know…"
A steady tone resounded from the diagnostic panel; an indication that the patient's heart had stopped.
The Doctor put a small clear hatch over Harry's head; a cortical stimulator.
"50 millijoules," he instructed.
Tom pressed a button, his hands sweaty and shaking.
Harry's limp head jumped up.
Beeeeeeeeep
"75 millijoules!"
Beeeeeeeeeep
"Again!"
Beeeeeeeeeep
"Come on, Harry," Tom begged softly, "don't do this. Fight it."
"80 millijoules!"
Beeeeeeeeeeep
Minutes later, Tom was still powering the cortical stimulator, charging it again and again.
"… again," the Doctor's tone started to soften. The poison had engulfed Harry's entire body. He was no longer breathing, and his heat had stopped long ago.
Beeeeeeeeeeep
Tom looked up at the Doctor, expecting another command to charge the cortical stimulator, but the Doctor wasn't speaking.
"Doc, come on!"
"Mr. Paris…"
"Don't say it!"
Tom shoved the Doctor out of the way so he was not blocking the display containing Harry's vitals. After checking Harry's vitals, or lack thereof, he charged the neurological stimulator again. But the result was the same.
The Doctor allowed his student to try several more times, all with the same result, before he could take it no longer. He laid a gentle hand on Tom's arm.
What the Doctor said next would be forever ingrained in Tom Paris's mind.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Paris… There's nothing we can do."
The flatlined tone of the medical diagnostic panel rang throughout Sickbay as Tom leaned on the biobed, looking at the body of his lifeless friend.
"N-No…." Tom stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
To be continued...
Once again, thank you so very much to all reviewers! I truly appreciate the feedback. It is the reveiwers that make writing so rewarding!
