Title: Kiss of the Spider People
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: T
Summary: Janeway gets into some hot water with some hostile aliens. Set shortly after "Coda."
Disclaimer: They're not mine (except the aliens), so don't send me money for my story. This one might count as parody, though it's not funny.
Author's notes: Sorry again for being slow. To be honest, I was quite stuck, but luckily LillianSaxon (Happy Birthday, Lilly!) came by with her trusty stick to poke me free of the obstruction. Meanwhile, InnocentPen graciously provided much needed medical information. Thank you to both of them! This chapter is dedicated to the Boston Celtics, who, unlike some others this year, did not disappoint.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.
Chapter 10: Fork in Recovery Road
Neelix was surprised to see Kes at his door when it chimed; the awkwardness between them since their "breakup" seemed palpable. Even though she hadn't been in command of her own body at the time, it still felt real, and as if it were a natural progression of their relationship. He'd been surprised at how unsurprising her decision had been, even though it hadn't actually been hers.
If he were to be honest with himself, she was no longer the sweet and innocent girl he'd fallen in love with on Ocampa. It wasn't that he no longer loved her – he supposed he would always love her – but perhaps that he was no longer in love with her.
His Sweeting had grown up. And perhaps, so had he. He had often lain awake nights during their time together, wondering how he would feel when she left him far too soon. The dissolution of their romance had almost been a blessing in that, at least, he would be somewhat distanced emotionally when she expired, and would not have to feel the acrid sting of a lover's final departure.
Tonight, though, a flicker of her old, vulnerable self remained. She looked worn out, physically and emotionally. He ushered her into his quarters quickly, then pulled her towards him as she began to sob.
He rubbed her back as she cried. "It's okay," he told her as he waited for her to calm and relished the familiar feel of her in his arms. "I'm here."
Then, as she gradually calmed, he whispered, "We're all grieving over the captain's death."
At that, she started and pulled away, looking up into his eyes. "Haven't you heard?" she asked.
"Heard what?" he replied, confused.
"The captain's not dead. We revived her."
He blinked. "Then why are you crying?"
She shook her head, tears threatening again. "I don't know. I'm so worried about her. And the commander, too. He disobeyed direct orders to save her life. He fainted in Sickbay. The Doctor sedated him so he'd stay asleep and told me to get some rest too, since there was nothing I more could do until the two of them woke up. But I couldn't sleep. So I came here. I … I shouldn't have bothered you, but …"
He pulled her towards him once again. "Kes, never be afraid to bother me. I've been there for you almost your whole life and I'd like to think you can count on my support for the rest of it."
He bit his lip, realizing suddenly that he was reminding her that her life was one-third over already. However, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I know," she stated simply.
"Why don't you stay here tonight?" he asked. "You always slept better when, you know …"
He half expected her to object, but she silently nodded against his chest. "I'd like that."
In the instant when the alien's mind touched his, he suddenly felt something both unfamiliar and awe-inspiring. This alien was bonded to a mate in a way he could not have imagined if he hadn't felt it through the link. He found himself fiercely jealous of this distant companion, wishing he too could be attached …
Suddenly, he was assaulted with images and emotions. It was too much. He did not know any more where the alien's mind ended and his began. The alien had assured him that this would be a painless procedure, but he was in agony. He needed the alien out of his mind, and yet he craved more of this intoxicating sensation of connection to another individual.
Memories raced through his mind. A hot, dry planet, with a moon orbiting another moon. A trial involving days alone in the desert, as a child, a trial that occasionally left children dead. His home world, an image of his father who he'd barely met before he was sent off for training. His mother, commanding him to do what seemed impossible at the time … he didn't want to play with the other kids; they were mean to him! He wanted to work out equations. She ordered him to stay away, but he wouldn't get the job he wanted if he didn't excel … she said it wasn't healthy to study all the time, but she didn't understand! How could a female understand his fascination with the inner workings of the universe? All they ever seemed to care about was power, and reproduction …
A bonding ceremony. Something about the mate … a female? This alien was bonded to a female! It … he? … loved her! And yet was forbidden to express his affection … but why? This alien's love was something precious, something he longed for even though he'd never known it existed …
The vertigo was excruciating as the memories piled on faster and faster and he lost track of where, when, and who he was. It was as if someone had sent him careening towards the sun at close to the speed of light, causing time to dilate and mass to increase, but somehow the energy was still present to continue his acceleration.
Suddenly, he knew he was going to die. And then he knew no more.
As the Sickbay doors closed, shielding the departing commander from view, Kathryn looked over at the holographic doctor. "Doctor," she stated, in the tone of an order.
He sighed, realizing that she intended to be difficult, but also that the return of her commanding nature indicated she was already on the road to recovery. "Yes, Captain?"
"What is going on with my ship?" she asked, hoping the Doctor would be more forthcoming than Chakotay.
He frowned. "I suspect the commander has the situation under control," he answered vaguely.
"That is not what I asked!" she replied, as forcefully as she could muster. "I want to know what is going on! Now!"
The Doctor shook his head. "You're in no condition to do anything other than lie on that biobed and get stronger, Captain, so there's no use in my briefing you on the ship's operations. You are not on duty, and you will not be on duty until I clear you. And the more you protest, the slower your recovery will be …"
She glared, even as she found herself ashamed to be fighting tears. She took a deep breath, briefly marveling at her ability to do so without coughing. "Fine," she conceded, realizing he was right, at least for now. It wasn't as if she could get up off that biobed … unless …
"What are my options?" she asked.
"Excuse me?" the EMH questioned. "Your options for what?"
"For treatment," she replied confidently, as if it were obvious. "How shall I start my recovery? What is my prognosis? What can I do to help you help me?" How can I get out of Sickbay as quickly as possible?
The Doctor put down the padd with her chart. "First, you must begin eating and drinking, but slowly. I cannot regenerate your muscles and internal organs without the raw materials. You need nourishment."
She nodded complacently. "Fine. Then what? How do I get back on my feet?" She was acutely aware that, should she succeed even in getting up off the biobed, she would undoubtedly collapse immediately to the floor.
The Doctor contemplated telling her that they'd cross that bridge when they came to it, but decided it couldn't hurt to warn her ahead of time of the slow process that lay ahead. "You will need extensive physiotherapy," he admitted. "I will give you a set of supporting braces with variable settings. They will allow you to work your muscles without the risk of falling. We will start with five to ten minutes of gentle exercise, with the braces at full power, and then increase the time and decrease the power gradually. In between physiotherapy sessions, we can regenerate muscle tissue, if you are eating properly. Within a few weeks, you should be good as new."
"Good," she replied, surprising him. He'd expected her to protest the therapy or the long recovery time. Most patients found the use of the braces humiliating. "Can I see them?"
"What?" he asked, before his program had time to fully process her request. "Oh," he continued after a moment, "I suppose I could show them to you. After a meal, perhaps. Can I interest you in some leola broth? I realize it's not the most appealing of options, but it's highly nutritious and …"
She interrupted him. "It'll do fine. Please, bring me the broth and the braces so that I can … prepare myself."
He returned a moment later with the requested items. Setting the braces on the biobed next to her, he approached with the soup, and she cringed as she realized he intended to spoon-feed her. However, after what had happened when Chakotay had let her drink water, she didn't blame the Doctor for insisting upon controlling her ingestion.
The first spoonful was torture, but she attempted not to let it show. She knew that any apparent discomfort might result in unwanted treatment, possibly even sedation. And, illogically and disturbingly, she still harbored a latent fear that the Doctor would decide her condition was untreatable and euthanize her. She forced down sip after sip of the vile liquid, all the while surreptitiously glancing out of the corner of her eye at the metallic objects on the adjacent biobed. After a while, she got used to the taste and the sensation of swallowing and found that having something in her stomach was, in fact, somewhat invigorating.
She had choked down about half the bowl when the whine of the transporter attracted their attention. In a moment, Tuvok and their alien visitor appeared, intertwined, on the floor.
Alarmed, the Doctor placed the bowl on the instrument table beside the captain's biobed, grabbed a tricorder, and raced towards the two beings that had just materialized on the Sickbay floor, scanning as he approached.
He tapped his communicator. "Sickbay to Kes. I need you here immediately."
The voice that responded was Neelix's. "We'll be right there," he answered.
The Doctor raised a holographic eyebrow, but did not have enough random access memory available to contemplate the implications of this reply.
Back in the Talaxian's quarters, Kes stirred groggily. "Come on, Sweeting," he told her as he stroked her forehead. "Time to wake up. The Doctor needs you."
"Right," she answered quickly, momentarily confused as to why she had been sleeping in his quarters. "I'll be out of your way in a second."
He shook his head as she rose from the bed. "I'm coming with you. It sounds like at least one person there is going to need a morale officer."
When Chakotay arrived on the bridge, he thought Ayala had never appeared more relieved to relinquish command. He didn't blame the lieutenant for his eagerness to return to his own duty station; after all, he'd been promised he'd be overseeing the situation far more temporarily than came to pass, and hadn't expected a crisis to arise on his watch. In fact, the commander wasn't convinced he was up to dealing with this either, but he didn't have a choice. Until the captain had recovered – and he consoled himself with the knowledge that she would recover – it was up to him to keep her ship intact. He'd already almost failed her; he was determined to make sure she returned to a happy, healthy, and safe crew.
"Report," he ordered, nodding towards Ensign Kim. Was the poor boy actually shaking with terror? It occurred to him that Kim, along with the rest of the present bridge crew, probably still thought the captain was dead, but he didn't have time to undeceive them now. Given that they didn't officially know that the captain had perished - in fact, the Doctor's overheard announcement could have been about any patient - he preferred not to broach the subject at all, knowing there would be plenty of questions he wouldn't want to answer even if he could.
Harry pursed his lips before answering. "Commander, the ship is heading towards us at a relative speed of approximately Warp Two. They should intersect with our trajectory in less than half an hour. They'll be in communications range in less than two minutes."
Chakotay nodded solemnly. They needed that cloak working now. He struggled to remember what B'Elanna had said about that in the hall. She'd been heading towards the brig to solicit the alien's counsel, and of course they'd found it indisposed, along with their chief of security …
It occurred to him that he'd just left B'Elanna in the brig with the others, and he tapped his communicator. "Chakotay to Lieutenant Torres," he called.
"Torres here," she answered. Before he could ask, she continued. "I sent Tuvok and our visitor to Sickbay," she told him, "and I'm back in Engineering now. I'm still not having any luck with the device, but I've enlisted the help of Ensign Vorik, and we understand the urgency of the situation."
"Good," was all Chakotay could think to reply. He'd have to remember to commend her for her foresight after this crisis was over. It occurred to him that she was dealing better than he was, and he found himself wryly amused by that fact.
He turned back to Ensign Kim. "As soon as they are in range, I want you to hail them."
Harry balked. "Commander?"
He frowned. "Just do it."
Gulping, Harry turned towards the console and began typing. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up. "They're hailing us," he remarked, clearly surprised.
"On screen," ordered Chakotay.
An alien, indistinguishable from the others they had seen over the past few days, appeared on the screen.
It spoke. "You have violated our space. Again. Explain yourselves." It occurred to the commander that this was progress … after all, it hadn't made threats. Yet.
He glanced back at Harry to see how he was doing, and he seemed no more frightened than he had been before. In fact, he looked slightly more at ease than he had been a few minutes ago.
Encouraged, Chakotay answered. "We mean you no harm," he started. "We're only trying to get home. We didn't know where the borders of your space were, and I assure you we intend to pass through without causing any damage."
The alien seemed to gesture with its antennae. "You have already destroyed one of our ships," it accused. "We do not consider that harmless. Our leader was aboard that ship."
"No," the commander replied urgently. "It was one of your own that destroyed your vessel. We have the one responsible on board, confined. We will return your citizen if you wish."
The alien paused, seeming to consider the offer. "And what do you ask in return?"
"Only permission to pass through your space," he tried, feeling hopeful.
"And if we refuse?"
He panicked for a moment, after which instinct dictated his reply. "We are prepared to fight."
The alien twisted slightly, then faced the screen again. "That should not be necessary. Send me the one that is responsible. If he corroborates your story, you will be allowed what you request."
It sounded promising. Too promising …
"If not," the alien continued, "we too are prepared to fight."