Voyager's Chief Medical Officer hummed as he worked, which was deeply integrated into his subroutines at this point and started automatically whenever he was alone (and often enough when he was treating a patient, he had to admit). By no means did it indicate that he was happy, on the contrary, he was highly dissatisfied with the lack of progress in his research. That the doctors at Starfleet Medical had no better luck was no consolation at all. Had he been human he might have been too discouraged to continue, but so he plowed on tirelessly in his effort to save his Captain's life.
When the hiss from the sickbay doors alerted him to a possible patient, for a nanosecond several thoughts crossed his holographic mind somewhere in the computer core. First, he hoped for a mundane injury, a sprained ankle, broken wrist or a minor tension headache, just something he could cure fast and simple and where the patient was suffering only mild inconveniences. Then again, Lieutenant Paris or, in fact, most of the crew could treat those kinds of ailments and would do so with secretly obtained medkits he officially knew nothing about. No, he rather wished for a complicated case where he would heroically bring the patient back from the very brink of death and only his talent, his knowledge and his ingenuity would save his patient's life. Immediately, he felt ashamed. He would never wish for any of his crewmates to be in this kind of predicament, only to show off his medical prowess, however much he longed for success. Or maybe he would prefer no emergency at all instead, everybody being healthy and happy and him being free to pursue his many hobbies. Ah, yes, he would enjoy that very much!
But just for said nanosecond he entertained these very human thoughts. The time told him who that potential patient probably was, for the Captain kept her appointments quite regularly these days. He only yearned to be able to give her good news, that they had finally found a cure. If this illness had brought one good thing it was the deepened friendship between them and yet it made it even harder to see the health of his friend deteriorating in front of his very eyes.
As expected, it was the Captain he greeted when he exited his office and still the sight of her alarmed him. She looked worse than yesterday! The Doctor locked the sickbay doors to grant her the privacy she needed and hurried over to assist his captain to the nearest biobed. "Captain, you look terrible," he stated in a concerned voice as he gently helped her to lay down.
"Why and a fine morning to you, too", Captain Janeway retorted wryly.
"Is it? A fine morning?", asked the EMH and started to scan her with a medical tricorder. A groan was her only response.
"So, my observation skills weren't too far off, then?"
That got him a chuckle in reply. "No, right on spot as always, Doctor ."
Voyager's CMO concentrated on the readings of his tricorder and frowned. "Captain, I thought we were past this", he chided her softly.
Her blue eyes met his in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"When did you last eat?", he asked her with raised eyebrows.
"Yesterday evening", she replied. "But I couldn't keep anything down. This new medication just doesn't agree with me. First, it made me sleep through most of the day and then it kept me awake half the night being sick."
"Do you still feel nauseous?"
"Yes", she confirmed.
"That is odd. As the dose wears out, the side effects should lessen significantly as well. Nevertheless, I can help you there." The Doctor released the contents of a hypospray into her bloodstream and smiled when she sighed in relief. "But Captain, why didn't you call me?", he wondered.
Captain Janeway averted her eyes. "I forgot."
"Hm." He got hold of the hand scanner and started a more focused scan of her head.
"Doctor, what are you doing?"
"I am scanning your brain. Either this virus has finally started to attack your brain or my acoustic subroutines are malfunctioning for I clearly heard you telling me just now, that you forgot that I am on call 24/7 or that there exist such simple things as antiemetics."
She batted his hand away. "My brain is fine, as is your hearing", she grumbled.
"Then why, pray tell, did you forget to call me?"
His captain sighed. "I told Chakotay, yesterday. He didn't take it well." She warily rubbed her forehead.
"And you what, decided to punish yourself?" At her silence he looked at her disbelievingly. "Captain?"
"No", she whispered. "At least not consciously."
He let it slide and prepared another hypospray. "Vitamins and other nutrients. You sure need them", he said at her questioning look.
When she started to rise after he had administered the nutritional supplements, he held her back. "Let me take a blood sample, first."
"You are afraid that the virus is mutating?"
"After four months in one single human host, of course it is mutating. The virus has adapted to your human physiology and is getting more aggressive."
"I know that, Doctor. But is the virus getting more transmittable? Is the crew in danger?", she asked anxiously.
"It has shown mutations that would make it easier to transmit, though they were, so far, always coupled with mutations on other parts of the genome which render it inert. To date, it is still only transmittable via blood infusion. Therefore, unless we have an infestation of mosquitoes or other blood-sucking vermin, the crew should be quite safe", he assured her.
She shuddered. "Don't put such pictures into my head!"
"Apologies, Captain." He looked at his earlier scan again and pondered its readings. "Hmm. Would you switch to the surgical bed? I'd like to take more detailed scans."
"What is it, Doctor?"
"Just a suspicion, Captain. I'll tell you, when I know more." At least it wasn't too hard for a hologram to keep the worry out of his voice.
He could tell that she was nervous when she settled down once more, this time on the bed in the surgical bay. "It won't take long", he promised. "Are you planning to tell the senior staff during the meeting this morning?"
"Yes. Let's just hope that they won't react as badly as Chakotay did." She grimaced.
"Well, you know my opinion."
"Oh, I know! It is my own stupid pride that got me to this place."
"I never said that", he admonished her gently. "And I am sure that Commander Chakotay will feel differently now that he had a night to sleep on it." He then decided to change the topic in order to make her more comfortable. "Have you joined the betting pool?", he asked.
"Which betting pool? Oh, the one Harry started. Yes, I placed my bet." She laughed softly. "That baby is as stubborn as her mother. How many false alarms were there?"
"Three, so far."
"Have you placed a bet? Although, you might have an advantage over the rest of us."
"Only marginally. I'll know when it is the real deal, but that's all." He started to study the output on his monitor intently, which she noticed.
"Doctor?"
"In a moment", he said absentmindedly. So they waited in silence for the scan to be completed. It wasn't long until the Doctor addressed his captain with a solemn face. "Well there is good news: you were right. The virus has not attacked your brain, as yet. But I'm afraid that is not true for the rest of your inner organs, your heart above all. We need to schedule surgery to repair the damage and it's urgent, since the damage is more extensive than I anticipated. This virus continues to surprise me and not in a good way. I am sorry."
"It's okay, Doctor. I know that you are doing all you can." She sat up and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
The EMH hung his head. "I just wish I could do more."
"We are battling a tricky foe. But didn't we just have a similar surgery three weeks ago?"
"Yes. And then the damage had been minor. It shouldn't have advanced this quickly. I'm sorry, Captain, but I don't see any way around it: you'll need a heart transplant and possibly other organs as well. Repair surgery only buys us some time, but at the rate the virus is attacking, it may only be two weeks, three at best. I've already grown the needed organs from your stem cells and put them in stasis. They are ready. We only need to…"
Captain Janeway held up her hand. "Hold your horses, Doctor. Organ transplant, and a heart transplant especially, are invasive and risky surgeries, even at our day and age. What are the odds that I even survive them while I am still ill? As long as we don't have a cure, what good would it even do? How much time would that buy us? A month, six weeks? That is not good enough!"
"It may be enough time to find that cure", the Doctor pointed out.
"And what should I do in the meantime, wait in my quarters like a prisoner for his judgment day? Spent the remainder of my days in sickbay? What if we don't find a cure in time, which is likely, will we do the surgery again and again until I finally don't survive? What if the virus does start to attack my brain? You can't transplant that!"
"I know that it is less than ideal but it is the only option I see."
"There is another", she said quietly.
He looked at her perplexed. "There is?"
"The answer is simple: let nature run its course."
"Captain, no!", he cried with a pleading voice.
"Doctor, I am dancing dangerously close to a black hole as it is. Today, tomorrow I'll cross the Schwarzschild radius and I have no clue what awaits me there. When I give up my captaincy what will be left? A woman fighting for her life? I am not sure I know how to be that. I'll have officially exceeded the measure of my usefulness and that is… I don't know how I can cope with that. So, please, don't prolong my suffering."
"Captain, I'd never want to do that!" He looked at her aghast. "And if that is your wish, I respect it. Of course, I do. But please, please don't give up. There is still hope." And in a gesture of comfort he put his hand on her thigh.
"And hope dies last." She smiled wanly at him, then patted his hand. "You are right. I won't give up hope, not yet. Schedule that repair surgery for this afternoon, but no transplants!" She hopped from the bed.
The Doctor smiled back at her. "This bed is reserved just for you at 1600h. But wait, where are you going?"
"I am still the Captain, am I not? There is work to be done."
"Not without your medicine." He waved with a hypospray.
"If it is the new medication, then no", the Captain protested. "I told you it doesn't work for me."
"You can't go without, either."
"The old regimen worked."
"Barely. I've waited till the last moment to switch to the stronger medication, even past the point I was comfortable with. There is no going back. It is no longer managing your pain on an adequate level. A pain that would put too much stress on your weakened heart. Captain, in your condition that could be potentially life threatening!", he exclaimed emphatically.
"And I said 'no'!" She glared at him.
"Too bad! I am the chief medical officer and this isn't a recommendation, Captain." He stared right back.
It was the Captain who broke eye contact first and sighed. "A compromise then? If you could administer the dose in the evenings along with the antiemetics it might actually help me sleep through the night. Isn't this what the doctor ordered?" She smiled disarmingly. "And until tonight we make due with the old regimen."
The EMH shook his head. "I really shouldn't do this, but it might be the solution for today. I have to calculate the correct dosage, however." He moved to a monitor and started his calculations while Captain Janeway waited patiently. Once he was sure of the right dosage he pressed the hypospray to her neck, which she dutifully tilted for easier access.
"There you go, but please call me if the pain becomes too much or you feel off in any way", he implored her.
"Of course. I'll see you at the senior staff meeting, Doctor."
Had he been human he might have punched something, the bed maybe, on account of the unfairness of it all. Since he was just a hologram, he only shot one worried glance at his Captain's retreating form before he went back to his office and his research. Maybe, maybe he will have a breakthrough, today. Who knows, the day had just begun.