By Any Other Name
By Joan Powers
Summary: When Janeway's mind is damaged during a transporter accident, she is no longer able to act as captain. Will the Voyager crew find a way to restore her, or will she need to adapt to her limitations? Janeway/Chakotay
A/N: After watching "Riddles" (Episode 7, Season 6), I thought, what if something like that happened to Captain Janeway? Forgive my lack of expertise in technobabble. Although I have a scientific background, transporter technology is uncharted territory. Thanks to Bizarra for her valuable assistance!
Other than minor editing, this story is already completely written. Chapters will be posted roughly every other day.
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet." Romeo and Juliet
Chapter 1 Transporter Accident
"I'm having trouble locking onto them." Harry's voice wavered as he focused on the transporter controls. "There's too much interference from the ion storm."
Captain Janeway, Lieutenant Paris, and Crewman Jarvis had gone down to the surface of the Hodarti home world under the impression that this would be a friendly diplomatic meeting for trade negotiations. Upon their arrival, they'd been greeted warmly, showered with gifts, and treated as honored guests.
However, as the visit progressed, the seemingly friendly aliens revealed their true intentions. They'd planned on using the away team as hostages to extort Voyager for advanced technology and weapons.
"Try increasing the gain." B'Elanna suggested.
"I've got one of them!" Harry claimed.
Tom Paris materialized on the transporter platform.
Concentrating intently, Harry and B'Elanna barely acknowledged his presence as he raced to join them by the controls.
"Hurry! They're in trouble!" Tom said.
"It's too dangerous. There's too much interference. We're going to lose their patterns," Harry said.
"No! We can figure this out." B'Elanna firmly insisted. She took a deep breath to clear her head, then she continued to focus on the problem at hand.
Paris suggested. "How about compensating with the dampeners? They're outnumbered and outgunned. We've got to get them out of there."
"I keep losing their signals!" Harry said.
"I just modified the phase shift to account for the polarity of the ion storm. Try it now," B'Elanna said.
Shadows of Captain Janeway and Crewman Jarvis appeared on the transporter pads. Then they vanished.
B'Elanna swore loudly. "Maybe I need to compensate for the phase variance." She adjusted the instrument setting. "Try it again."
They held their breath as Captain Janeway slowly materialized before them. Her left sleeve was torn and soaked with blood. She was screaming loudly. Shaking uncontrollably, she collapsed. Tom rushed over to examine her.
Moments later Crewman Jarvis rematerialized. Her body hit the floor like a rock, with a sickening thud.
Harry hurried over, feeling her neck for a pulse.
Stunned, he looked towards B'Elanna. "She's…" He swallowed hard. "Dead."
"Transport them to sick bay. Now!" Paris said.
XXXXX
Lying on her side on a biobed, Kathryn was curled up in a protective ball, clutching her knees to her chest, trying to shield herself from the bombardment of sights and sounds. Garbled voices filled the air. It sounded as if they were traveling through a viscous fluid. Her head ached and the lighting felt far too bright. The room temperature seemed to rapidly fluctuate between boiling and freezing. Trembling then sweating in response, she was unable to adequately regulate her core temperature.
The voices kept droning. She had no idea who these beings were or what they wanted. Were they trying to help her? Or had they caused this nauseating condition?
When she felt something grab her, she was terrified. She screamed. And then she couldn't stop.
Feeling a sudden prick on her neck, her body relaxed. Then everything faded to black.
XXXXX
Chakotay nervously paced about sick bay, his eyes fixed upon the motionless body of Kathryn Janeway. The Doctor had already repaired a nasty phaser wound on her upper arm. He shuddered, thinking that shot had been dangerously close to her heart. Even though he and Kathryn had been drifting apart, he'd been badly shaken, seeing her covered with blood.
He didn't fully understand his reaction. Only a few weeks ago, he'd witnessed Kathryn's recovery after brief assimilation by the Borg. Her bald head, grey skin, and mechanical attachments had been disturbing, yet he'd taken it in stride. The captain had always been adventurous, willing to take on risks if it would help her crew.
Still, his gut irrationally insisted that these circumstances were different. Perhaps the insidious manner of Crewman Jarvis' death was prompting this. Although the woman's physical appearance hadn't changed, her internal organs had been poorly reassembled.
A flood of emotions surfaced within him. Feelings for Kathryn that he thought had disappeared. Apparently, they'd only been dormant.
He chided himself, feeling foolish. Whatever his feelings were for Kathryn, everything would go back to business as usual once she recovered. He was only setting himself up for disappointment if he indulged in these emotions.
He hated that he was having trouble leaving sick bay. He'd pace back and forth. Periodically he'd furtively grasp her hand and squeeze it or place a hand on her chest to ensure that she was breathing. Or brush a stray tendril of hair away from her face with his fingertips.
She'd become frantic upon regaining consciousness, so they'd sedated her. Unconscious for several hours now, the Doctor continued to perform scans and run tests, attempting to learn more about her condition.
While her outward appearance had been restored, his preliminary examination indicated that areas of her brain had been impacted, though at this point, specific details were impossible to discern. The injury could've occurred during the Hodarti attack. Or resulted from the ion storm interfering with the transporter and subsequently, the re-materialization sequence.
When the Doctor approached him, eyeing him critically, he felt self-conscious, unable to make excuses for lingering by her side any longer. He'd already overstayed his welcome. Besides, as acting captain, he had responsibilities to attend to. He just hated leaving her in this state.
"Any updates?"
"As I've mentioned several times," The Doctor's irritation was barely concealed. "I won't know the exact nature of her condition until she's awake. My scans detect extensive damage to her memory engrams and brain processing. These types of injuries can be tricky. Sometimes with rest and medication, they will improve on their own. Thankfully her autonomous processes such as respiration and heart regulation are intact."
"Notify me the minute she regains consciousness. I expect a full update at our briefing."
"Will do."
Stepping into the corridor, Chakotay ran into B'Elanna. He was surprised to see her up so late. Her eyes were red with dark shadows beneath them.
"I'm working on a method to use the Captain's stored transporter patterns to better reintegrate her."
"That would be premature." And a possibility that he wasn't ready to accept. "At this point we don't know the cause or extent of her injuries. Hopefully with rest, the Doctor says her condition may improve on its own, and we won't need to resort to such measures."
If he said it enough, he could convince himself. He continued to remind himself that they'd been through far worse in the past. There was no reason to believe they couldn't figure this out.
"I know. I'm working on the details so it will be ready, if needed."
He assured her. "Even if that's the case, it would be a while before we'd implement it." Then he realized it wouldn't hurt to be prepared for the possibility, to cover all the bases. "Get some rest and resume working on it in the morning. Have Seven assist you."
Changing the subject, she stepped closer to him. Averting her eyes, she said, "I'm sorry…I thought I could… If I hadn't been so stubborn. If I only hadn't insisted-"
He didn't want to deal with this. He was already uncomfortable, trying to suppress his irrational fears along with those feelings for Kathryn that had crept up. Yet, B'Elanna was his friend, and she was struggling. Rather than barely reigning in her Klingon temper, she was somber. Guilt was clearly eating at her.
He gently touched her forearm and squeezed it. "Look, if you hadn't taken the risk of transporting her, most likely she would've been killed by the Hodarti. If that phaser had been aimed an inch or two closer-" His voice trailed off.
Although they were both disturbed by the death of Crewman Jarvis, mentioning her at this junction would only add salt to the wound.
"Don't do this. It's counterproductive. You did your best and that's all anyone could expect. Get some rest so you can think clearly in the morning. Do I need to make that an order?"
The ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. "No, sir."
"We'll figure this out."
XXXXX
(Two days later)
Chakotay spoke softly to Kathryn as she stirred. "Can you hear me?"
The Doctor reported that she'd been drifting in and out of consciousness.
He gently touched her hand. When she opened her eyes, her pupils flitted about wildly, and she started breathing heavily. She jerked her fingers away from his, as if the contact stung her. Then she curled up, more tightly, in a defensive ball, hiding her face against her knees.
"Kathryn?"
Chakotay sighed and rubbed his temples. He was dead tired but had been unable to rest. Voyager had been on red alert for the past twenty-four hours in an altercation with a decided unfriendly group of aliens. Probably friends of the Hodarti. Turning to face the Doctor, he asked, "Are you seeing any improvement?"
Despite the seemingly permanent knot of tension residing in his stomach, Chakotay strove to remain optimistic.
"No." The Doctor intently studied the reading on his tricorder. "While there's been some decrease in tissue inflammation, her system is not responding well. She's still in trauma mode. The fact that she's not reacting appropriately to stimuli shows there are major processing issues. At this point, she neither recognizes us nor understands what we're saying."
"This isn't just a concussion." Chakotay sighed, acknowledging that they were most likely dealing with the worst-case scenario.
"No," the Doctor somberly added. "I've confirmed that the tissue damage is at the microscopic level."
He gestured towards a screen which displayed two color-coded scans. "The scan on the right is the captain's brain from a few months ago, the one on the left is from today. The red colored areas indicate neuron damage."
Chakotay exhaled slowly as he intently scrutinized the screen, seeing far more angry red areas than he desired. "This doesn't look promising."
"I agree. As I've mentioned, it's a miracle that the autonomous functions such as nerve impulses and respiration weren't affected. Crewman Jarvis wasn't as fortunate."
"What treatment options does she have?"
"Reassembling multiple complex neurons and those intricate network connections is currently beyond the realm of even my extensive medical expertise."
"Is it worth pursuing B'Elanna's suggestion? Using the Captain's stored transporter patterns as a basis to reintegrate her properly?"
The Doctor considered it. "There's no guarantee it would work. But we have to do something. Commander, she can't survive like this. The massive stress on her body systems is already wearing her down. Today her body stopped processing nutrients properly. She has days or weeks at most before she starves. And we don't know what other systems this massive amount of stress might compromise over time."
"Let's get input from the senior staff to determine our best options."
XXX
After the Doctor briefly summarized the Captain's situation, Chakotay addressed the staff, who were seated about the conference table.
"Where are we with solutions?"
B'Elanna was quick to explain. "Currently, we're assuming that the ion storm interfered with the process of reintegration. Think of it like a jigsaw puzzle. Transporter technology works by dematerializing a person into thousands of tiny pieces, then reassembling them at another location. All the pieces are captured by the beam, in this case, they're just assembled incorrectly."
Everyone in the room was fully aware of the alternative possibility. That pieces of Captain Janeway could've been permanently lost or destroyed during transport due to the ion storm interference. If that were true, they would never be able to fully restore her.
It didn't merit discussion.
"The goal is to use Captain Janeway's previous pattern from the buffer to serve as a template to guide the process."
"Doc, aren't there medical options? Isn't it possible to synthetically replace or repair the damaged neurons?" Tom asked. "Hasn't that been done before?"
The Doctor smiled briefly, impressed that the pilot was aware of this. Apparently, he'd learned something while working in sick bay. "Yes, it has. But only for a highly localized phenomenon. With so much damage and so many complex interconnecting areas, I wouldn't recommend it."
"What about using Seven's nanoprobes?" Harry asked. "Didn't we use them to resurrect Neelix a few years ago? Couldn't we program them to repair the damaged areas?"
"The situation is not the same. There was tissue repair and reinitialization for Neelix. Similar programming for every cell. The damage the Captain has incurred is too complex. We couldn't effectively program the nanoprobes." The Doctor answered.
"What about a mind meld?" Tom asked, looking towards Tuvok.
"That would be ill advised. While I can interpret thoughts in that state, maybe even plant helpful suggestions, I cannot perform physiologic repairs." Tuvok somberly explained.
"Tuvok could also become trapped with the mire of her mind." The Doctor explained.
Harry shuddered.
"B'Elanna, how much time do you and Seven need to finish developing your approach?" Chakotay asked.
As tired as they all were, there was a growing sense of urgency. In her weakened state, they weren't certain how long Janeway could function before deteriorating more. Her system could only endure so much stress before incurring additional damage.
"We'll have something to test in a few hours." B'Elanna tilted her chin towards Seven, who nodded in agreement.
"Is this advisable? Could we damage her more?" Chakotay asked the Doctor.
"There are no guarantees. But, as we've discussed, we have to do something. The Captain won't survive in her current state."
XXXXXX
(Four days later)
Her head was throbbing. So much pain. Yet she recognized the shapes around her as people. When they spoke, she could understand their words, though many concepts were totally foreign to her.
She had no idea who these people were. They continued to talk to her as if she knew them. Much to her displeasure, the balding man continued to poke and prod her. That was getting old. The severe blonde woman with the form fitting clothing and odd attachment near her eye had stared at her as if she were some exotic specimen. Kathryn hadn't been able to comprehend a word that she'd said. She preferred the man with the kind brown eyes and unusual markings on his forehead who visited often, sometimes simply sitting quietly beside her, holding her hand.
The crippling pain in her head was debilitating. It dominated her world, occupying every waking moment. The balding man gave her shots, but they didn't do much. She fought to remain still to avoid triggering additional waves of pain.
A colorful short man with spotted skin brought her a variety of foods which she didn't touch. She wasn't the least bit hungry, despite their insistence that she needed to eat. She only relented when the kind brown eyed man persisted, feeding her chocolate pudding one spoonful at a time.
XXXX
(A week later)
Seated behind the desk, Chakotay surveyed the captain's ready room. He hated using it as his own but proximity to the bridge was essential for the acting captain.
The chimes indicated that someone was outside.
"Enter."
When Tuvok entered, Chakotay rose from his chair. The two men walked over to sit on the couch by the viewport.
"Have you spoken with B'Elanna and Seven?" Chakotay asked.
"I have."
"What are your thoughts?"
While Kathryn was finally taking in food and able to speak using simple words after their reintegration attempt, she was far from restored. B'Elanna suggested that the composition of the ion storm may have been different than they'd anticipated. And the actual makeup of the planet's atmosphere could be relevant as well. Returning to the Hodarti home world to collect post storm residue and atmospheric samples could yield valuable clues regarding the specific nature of those particles and enable them to design a more specific integration pattern to use to repair the captain. While Kathryn herself might have retained those particles within her body, probing would be far too invasive and excruciatingly painful.
"Scientifically, it is sound. However, there are many factors to consider. I must advise you there are inherent dangers."
Chakotay nodded, anticipating what he was going to say.
"In addition to losing time due to substantial backtracking, the Hodarti are a hostile race. Since they've revealed their true nature to us, they will not be receptive to our return. It could be perceived as an attack. Their weapons, while not as powerful as ours, could cause formidable damage. We also don't know how many allies these aliens have in this region. We've already had an encounter with one of them."
"I agree." Chakotay rubbed his temples. He hadn't been sleeping well. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Kathryn in her current state.
"We've tried the procedure. There's no guarantee a second time will produce improvements, even with these additional tweaks."
Chakotay swallowed hard, trying to mask the emotions that threatened to emerge. While he understood the Vulcan's point, he wasn't ready to surrender.
"Tuvok, although she's out of danger, she's barely existing. She's in so much pain she can't focus on anything else. That is no way to live."
"It is…difficult."
"After all she's sacrificed for this crew over the years, if there's any chance that this can help, we owe it to her." Chakotay's eyes bore into Tuvok's, almost daring the Vulcan to claim he was letting his emotions dictate his actions.
And maybe he was.
Tuvok's response surprised him.
"I agree."
XXXX
(Two weeks later)
"How are you feeling?" The balding man asked Kathryn.
She tentatively sat up on the biobed, pleasantly surprised that the all-encompassing pain had dissipated. Though her temples still pulsed, rather than agonizing, it was more of a background throbbing.
"Better. Where am I?" For the first time since her accident, she cautiously examined her surroundings.
"This is the starship Voyager. You're in sick bay."
She nodded, although she wasn't fully understanding.
"You've gone through a second transporter reintegration procedure. I'm giving you more analgesics to reduce the swelling and the headache. Now I'm performing more tests to assess your condition."
She pulled back from him. "I don't want to."
To her annoyance, he ignored her protests, continuing to wave a thin probe with flashing lights about her.
"Do you know your name?"
"Captain Janeway?" She remembered them calling her that, though she didn't feel attached to that name.
Do you know the year?"
"No."
Anxiety was rising within her. Shouldn't she know this?
"Do you know who I am?"
She assumed he was a doctor, but his name wasn't coming to her mind. When she bit her lip and didn't respond, he rapidly provided an answer. "I'm the ship's EMH – Emergency medical hologram."
"Oh"
"Other than excessive cerebral swelling, your autonomous systems have been fully restored and are functioning properly."
He seemed quite pleased with that statement. Should she be as well? He continued to scan and prod her, sometimes frowning as he intently studied his instrument. Occasionally he'd ask questions.
"What color is this?" He pointed to part of his uniform.
"Blue and black."
"Good. Can you describe a Fourier function?"
"What?"
"Hey!"
The man with the kind brown eyes and forehead tattoo was joining them.
"How are you?" he asked, as he stood beside her.
She smiled. She loved that he looked right at her and didn't treat her as if she were a bug on the stage of a microscope.
"Better."
He grinned widely. "Less pain?"
"Yes, definitely."
"Commander, she's undeniably made progress. But she's still…not herself."
Chakotay squeezed her hand as he replied. "But this is a significant improvement. Good news."