Day 24
"Captain, thank you for coming down so quickly," a frantic EMH greets Sir at the threshold to sickbay.
"What is it, Doctor?" he asks, annoyance slipping into his voice. There is somewhere else he needs to be. His desire to get back to the bridge is so very strong at this moment, and yet, like everything else lately, he can't put a finger on why.
"Our duplicate Crewman Dell, in addition to having been injected with a massive dose of hydrocortilene before being killed, has one of the shapeshifting aliens embedded in his skull," the Doctor says, leading Sir to the morgue. Once inside, the Doctor positions himself at the top of the table and turns the head of the deceased to the left. There, just below the hairline, are two small marks – dried blood is crusted underneath.
"Hydrocortilene is for headaches, isn't it?
"Yes, it's a common analgesic. And, given the size of alien wrapped around his brain, I'd say he would have needed it, though probably not at more than twenty times the recommended dose."
Sir pinches the bridge of his nose and thinks, ever-so-briefly, about his own persistent pain.
"This is what we have been waiting for," the Doctor says. "This is what must have happened – will happen – to Voyager. Somehow these creatures got on board and hijacked the crew. All the pieces are falling into place. The alien body in the conference room, the same tunneling puncture wounds on Tuvok and the way he was killed – bashed in the back of the head."
Sir nods, looking down at the body of the fallen officer. His blue eyes are stuck open, staring at nothing. Blood has soaked through his grey undershirt and subsequently dried. There's an accompanying smell, but it doesn't churn Sir's stomach as it might have once.
"Doctor," he asks, drawing his eyes up from the corpse. "What time is it?"
"Time? It's 08:43 hours, why?"
He tugs as his ear. "We should have been there by now," he mutters.
"Been where?" the Doctor asks, bewildered. "Aren't you paying attention? What happened to Crewman Dell is potentially very important. If I can figure out more about the parasite's anatomy, how it interacts with the host, the role of the chroniton radiation –"
"Yes. I know. It's very interesting." Sir begins to walk around the small room, he examines the items on the shelves, the little bottles and tubes, runs a finger along the edge of the counter.
"Interesting?" the Doctor repeats, growing ever irritated. "I may have just unraveled the last of this mystery and he finds it interesting. I do hope I'm not boring you with this, Captain."
"You're not boring me, but I'm telling you we should have…" he picks up a laser scalpel, examines it, and then puts it back down again. "What time did you say it was again?"
"I have more important things to do right now than be a clock!"
"Tuvok to Captain Chakotay."
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, what did I say?" Sir meets the Doctor's holographic eyes and then glances to the ceiling. "Yes, Mr. Tuvok?"
"We are being hailed by a vessel approximately two light years from our present position. They are in need of assistance. We have changed course to intercept."
"I'll be right there."
"A distress call?" Panic flairs on the Doctor's holographic face. "This could be it! Whatever you do, don't send anyone over. Don't let them onboard, not until I have more time to examine Crewman Dell."
"Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but trust me, I have this well in hand," Sir says, walking towards the doors with an even stride.
"Computer, deactivate the EMH and lockdown the program to my authorization. Captain's security protocol, lambda-six-three."
He doesn't look back.
Sir's feet are moving faster than I've experienced in all of my time inside his mind. He's running, pulse racing, legs aching. Even if he understood this urgency I've imparted, he couldn't fight me if he tried.
The turbolift door slides open and he heaves in a breath.
Our craft comes into view. The last of his will dissipates like smoke into air.
What was his becomes fully mine.
"Open a channel," I say through his lips, still panting slightly.
"NCC-74656, I wish you greetings. My name is Ash-Ai," says the tall man on the screen. Sitting next to him is his female, Cyn-Tai. I resist the urge to greet them as the friends they are. "We are grateful that you have answered our hails. My ship has been damaged and our mechanic is dead. Can you help us?"
"I am Captain Chakotay, of the Federation Starship Voyager," I say, dragging his hand along the banister as I make my descent to the command level. "Would you like to bring your vessel aboard so that we can assist you?"
A broad smile crosses Ash-Ai's face, his innocent face betrays no sign of the power that lurks within.
"Captain," I hear from behind, but I do not turn. "Are you certain that is the wisest course of action? We may be able to offer assistance remotely, with less potential danger to Voyager."
"Are you friend or foe?" I ask Ash-Ai.
"Friend, of course. We mean you no harm, we're only in need of assistance. Our nutrient-supply system is offline, our life-support is failing, and my colleague is in need of a doctor."
"Your word is good enough for me," I reply. "Lower shields, tractor them into the shuttlebay." Behind me, the Ops ensign shifts his feet.
"Captain Chakotay. I wish to discuss –"
"I said, lower shields and bring them onboard," I repeat before the Vulcan causes further delay. The pilot turns to make eye contact with everyone but me.
"Mr. Ash-Ai," says Tuvok behind me. "Please excuse us for a moment."
The viewscreen is cut off.
"Is there some kind of problem, Tuvok?" I bark, snapping backwards.
"Need I remind you that we are currently at yellow alert? Protocol dictates that we maintain shield integrity and do not allow anyone aboard Voyager. That said, given the curious series of events over the last weeks, I believe it would be prudent to use a bit more caution when it comes to this vessel and its occupants."
"This vessel is small. There are only two individuals onboard. They have asked for our help," I state through gritted teeth. "We will not deny them assistance out of fear."
"I am not suggesting that we turn our backs, rather, offer an away team or try to help from this distance. Bringing them onboard Voyager seems like an unnecessary risk at this time. Given the situation –"
"Given the situation, I apparently need to remind you that Janeway put me in command because she wanted me to have the freedom to make different decisions then she would."
Tom swivels more completely in his seat to face me. "Captain Janeway, before all this – this stuff appeared – would have brought that craft aboard," he says.
"He's right," Kim agrees.
"I concur," Tuvok says. "The action you are proposing has, by my estimations, a ninety-seven percent chance of being the same decision she would have made."
"Since when are my orders up for debate?" I cannot help the bark that escapes his lips at their insolence.
"Since you have begun acting erratically," Tuvok replies, I see his hand moving towards the bottom of the console.
I let go of a low growl that reverberates through the back of his throat. I'm wasting precious time. If they won't bring Ash-Ai and his cargo on board willingly, then I will. Before I lose complete control over this situation.
"Computer," I bark. "Initiate command override, Chakotay-zeta-nine."
Tuvok and Kim snap back to their stations.
"I've just lost helm control, warp drive is offline," Paris announces, lifting his hands into the air.
"Weapons systems are unavailable," Tuvok says, his fingers dance across the panel.
"Transporters and turbolifts just went down, too," says Kim, "and internal communications. We're cut off from the rest of the ship."
"What the hell did you do?" Paris accuses, panic rising in his voice.
"What is the status of our shields?" I ask, turning sharply to the back.
Tuvok is still fighting with the interface and does not respond.
"Shields!?" I bark again.
"I was able to override your pre-programed orders and maintain our shield integrity," Tuvok says. "The shuttlebay doors also remain closed. Computer, Red Alert."
The lights flash and the claxon hurts his ears, making it hard for me to concentrate.
"No!" I throw his body into the captain's chair and towards center console. The people around me are a blur of yellow and red uniforms. Unspoken orders are being given, and I can feel them closing in.
"Chakotay!"
My fingers freeze. That voice. It doesn't belong on my bridge. What is she doing here?
"Chakotay," she says again. "I know what's happening. I know what you are."
I ignore her, continuing to work the console to no avail. "Dammit," I curse. From under her seat I pull a phaser, only to find myself staring down the barrel end of five more.
This is the point where I should shift, I should go back three minutes, maybe four. It would be simple enough to take over the Vulcan. But after everything I've learned, trading bodies seems like the easy way out. I can do this with him. I will. Because my greatest asset, his most prized possession, is walking down towards me right now with her hands held up to all the others.
"Chakotay," she says, coming near with palms outstretched. "Are you still Chakotay?"
Grinning with this face provides a fantastic sensation. I watch, pleased, as she swallows her fear.
"I am and I am not. We are Chakotay now. Just as you will all be with another soon."
Harry Kim's weapon begins to tremble. "He's going to shoot me," I say, indicating with my eyes the one who is most likely to fire first.
"They won't fire without my orders," she tells them.
"You're not in command anymore."
"Technically not, but neither are you. And they'll listen to me. Now, why are you doing this? Help me understand."
I laugh. It feels good to expel this air from his lungs, to hear his voice finally speak my true thoughts. "You narrow-minded, un-taken fools," I spit. "You think you have such a noble journey, such a grand destiny of exploration and peace before you, and yet you think in one dimension. Your destiny is to become so much more."
"We don't want what you are offering. We want to remain as we are. We want to continue on our way, able to make our own decisions." With each sentence, she chances a step to me.
"If you come any closer, I'll kill him," I warn, turning the phaser inward until it rests against his soft belly. I want her to know that I can end his life, though I won't. I've become rather attached and I'd quite like to stay him for as long as I can.
Her eyes dart to my weapon and I see my threat has the desired effect. The fear in her heart is written plainly on her face and she stills, waving everyone further back.
"I have seen you as you truly are, Kath-ryn," I say. "I've seen your capacity for love, your strength and compassion. I've also been privy to your slow decline into darkness and despair. I know you want for more. With our help you can have it. You can have him and your freedom."
"If you know me at all, then you know that my only goal is ensuring the safe return of my crew to Earth."
"An absurd quest," I say. "Allow yourselves to be joined and you'll not need such trivial pursuits."
"At what cost? Our free will? From what I see, you certainly aren't letting Chakotay have any say in what he's – you're – doing. Can he even hear me?"
"He can hear you."
"Then let me speak to him."
I release my grip from around his strangled mind, but only slightly.
"Kathryn," he gasps, and with the transition we fall to his knees, his phaser clatters to the floor. "Don't listen," he begs, "don't… please…"
"Chakotay," she says, rushing towards him. She squats down. "Chakotay, you have to fight this. It's been with you all along. I know what's happening to you. I know what happened to the future Voyager."
"Silence!" I shout, snatching back control. With one swift move, I knock her to the ground and regain the weapon. His forearm presses her chest to the floor.
"Lower the shields and bring them aboard or I kill her," I announce without breaking my stare into her helpless eyes.
"Threatening the captain's life will not encourage us to put this ship at risk." Tuvok's words are no surprise but they grate on my patience.
I straddle her chest with his strong legs, dig the phaser into her sternum and place his broad hand around her throat where her flesh is soft. She gasps, the squeak she issues is like nothing I've heard before. It rings in his ears.
He's fighting me and it's taking more energy than I would like to keep him at bay. I squeeze harder, her pulse quickens against my palm. She is silent. Her eyes beg me for mercy but she is eerily calm. Deep under the blanket of control I've laid, he begins to panic.
Officers are moving close. They're going to try to stop me. "Lower. Shields," I say again, jabbing her with the weapon. "Open the bay doors." His thumb twitches on the trigger. "Now!"
The officers halt, unwilling to let either of their defunct captains die.
Someone will comply with my orders, I know they will. I just have to wait –
But then, I perceive a hiss.
A cool sensation fills his leg. "No…" I gasp, releasing her in my confusion. She sucks in a breath, coughs once, twice and rubs at her neck. A fog begins to fall over me.
She raises her hand, shows me a hypospray. Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again. "I hear you have a headache."
He drops the phaser.
Control is slipping, slipping away. He reaches out to comfort her, to check her, and make sure she is alright. He's pulling her up, holding her…
I'm out of time. I have failed.
I have no choice but to flee.
