Reaction Shots: A 'Message In A Bottle' Epilogue
by Jennifer Ferris
Disclaimer: The toys belong to Paramount. I'll return them. Feel free to archive, but please keep my name and disclaimer (such as it is) attached. Comments and criticism to kevas@aol.com.
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Sickbay was strangely quiet, after the camaraderie and excited voices and hubbub of astrometrics. Captain Janeway walked toward the doctor's office, feeling almost an intruder. "Hello?"
Silence. Janeway frowned. Surely he hadn't deactivated--"Computer, activate emergency medi--"
"I'm here, Captain." The doctor's familiar, acerbic voice, a little subdued this evening. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you have a few minutes? I wanted to talk to you."
He looked around at the quiet sickbay. "No crew emergencies. I'm sure there'll be a few hangovers in the morning, but-- so far so good." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure we could both use a quiet evening."
"Do you mind if we sit down? It's been quite a day."
"Not at all." The doctor led the way to his office and settled back in his chair, contemplating the ceiling. "You don't know the half of it."
She tilted her head at him. "That's partly what I wanted to talk to you about."
He brought his gaze back down. "A...'debriefing', Captain?"
"No, not really. Not tonight. I just wondered how you were feeling."
"Hmm. This would probably be an appropriate time to remind you that I'm a hologram and don't have 'feelings'. I don't think I have the energy, though. Even for me, it's been a very...long day."
A sympathetic shrug from Janeway. "I'd like to hear about it. Unofficially, I mean." As the doctor hesitated, she prompted, "It must have been difficult getting through to Starfleet Command."
"Yes. I...we had quite a time."
"'We'?"
"I haven't told you much about the new, improved EMH model they had on the Prometheus, have I."
Janeway shook her head. "No, not much."
The hologram laughed shortly. "New and improved. He wanted to run back into the data bank and hide as soon as he found out what was going on."
"Ah," Janeway smiled. "So even fellow holograms are a trial to you."
"To say the..." But the doctor stopped himself. "Actually...for someone not even field-tested, he did remarkably..." His voice grew subdued. "And I didn't even tell him."
He was obviously talking to himself. But he glanced across the desk and shrugged at the captain. "He was...uncertain as to what role he was expected to play in the event of -- well, in the events we encountered. And he acquitted himself with remarkable fortitude, all things considered. And I didn't even have a chance to thank him."
"Why not?"
"You should read my log, Captain. I'm sure I covered all the highlights."
"I did," she frowned. "But you were...remarkably succinct. 'I came, I saw, I conquered'. So to speak."
"In point of fact, that pretty much covers it. But then, of course, there was the debriefing. As a creature of Starfleet, I expect you're familiar with the phenomenon. The crisis lasted a few hours. The debriefing took twice as long. And at that, they were rushing. I believe you had something to do with that," he peered over his brows at the captain.
Janeway shrugged. "If so, I'm glad. Probably it helps to be a mystery. By now, it must have seemed they were hearing from ghosts."
"Very much so. There was...considerable skepticism when I told them where I had come from."
"But they believed you, in the end."
"Of course," the doctor's eyes twinkled at her. "I'm a hologram. I'm not programmed to lie."
"Ah."
"But with the pressure of time...they were afraid if they didn't send me back through the relay quickly, my signal would degrade too much to be successfully reintegrated. There wasn't much time for anything. Certainly not for me to speak with my counterpart on the Prometheus."
"And it wasn't considered important anyway," Janeway said softly. "After all, you're just a hologram."
"Quite so."
"And so not only were you not allowed to speak to your friend," she hesitated, "but you didn't even know if you'd make it back. Or if you'd...disappear, along the way."
"Captain," he admonished her sternly, "that could be said about both parts of my journey."
She leaned forward and touched his sleeve. "I'm very aware of that, Doctor. I don't take it lightly when I ask a member of my crew to volunteer for a mission that could well be...fatal."
"You could have reconstructed my matrix, of course," he said, a little huffily.
"Perhaps. But it wouldn't have been you. I knew that, Doctor," she said quietly. "But there was no time. I had to ask."
"I suppose you did," he said moodily, staring around at the sickbay as if he'd never seen it before. "Certainly the crew seems to be beside itself at the thought of contact with the Alpha Quadrant. I've heard some...fascinating conversations this evening. Or perhaps I should say overheard. And if I might add, Captain, not all of them were thrilled about the possibilities."
Janeway looked up, startled. "No? May I ask who you--"
"You may not," he said severely. "I may eavesdrop, but I am the very soul of discretion. I will say that some of the less enthusiastic comments came from one or two former members of the Maquis."
"Ah. Well, you can't blame them," Kathryn mused aloud. "They don't know what they'll face when they get back." She frowned. "Still. They ought to know I'll do everything I can...and that's quite a lot, I assure you, Doctor...to make sure my entire crew is well-received."
"Hmm," he agreed. "It could be a bit sticky otherwise. Since half your senior officers might be considered suspect."
She agreed, half-frowning, half-laughing, when the Doctor spoke again. "Including your...chief medical officer."
Her eyes flashed at that. "Doctor?"
"As a matter of fact, I might contend that your CMO is the most expendable member of your crew."
"Doctor, I thought we'd been through this. I had no choice. I'm sorry. But--"
"No, no, captain, I'm not referring to your attitude, which I consider sensible and even commendable. After all, you've never asked me to do anything which you haven't demonstrated a sometimes...unfortunate...tendency to do, yourself. No. I'm referring to Starfleet Command."
She drew her breath in sharply. "Ah. And since my chief medical officer is, after all,'merely a hologram'..."
"Precisely. I think I must tell you that, given Starfleet's attitude, I myself am somewhat apprehensive about returning to the Alpha Quadrant."
Kathryn stood up, crossing her arms over her chest and gazing thoughtfully around the room before she turned back to her CMO. There was a wry, somehow painful smile on her face. "Don't worry too much, please. For one thing, whatever gossip you've heard, the chances of us getting back to the Alpha Quadrant anytime soon are...extremely remote."
"Oh? I'd heard quite the--"
"You're a medical man, Doctor. Surely you recognize 'wishful thinking' when you hear it. But more to the point. As long as I am in command of this vessel, Doctor, no one...no one...will download you, or tamper with your programming, or be permitted to harm you in any way. We'll get your status clarified. I promise you that."
He was uncharacteristically silent for a full minute. "I...appreciate that, Captain. May I say, I hope your command is a...long and happy one."
"Well," Janeway said, after a long moment, "when you put it that way...so do I."
* * * * *
Samantha Wildman was trying to comfort and scold her daughter at the same time. She wasn't doing as well as she hoped. Naomi was still sniffling. "You know you're not supposed to eavesdrop," Samantha smiled. "It isn't polite."
The girl's chin fell toward her chest. "Uh huh."
"Hey, don't feel so bad." Wildman tapped the tip of Naomi's nose. The child looked up tearfully. "It's okay, baby," Wildman shook her head a little. "It kind of scares you, doesn't it."
"Danny said we could be home any time, tomorrow, next week," Naomi whispered.
"Honey, he's just wishing. You know. Like when we blow out a candle. You remember that one."
"Then it's not true?
"Naomi...you don't really want to get home, do you."
"Um..." Naomi hung her head again, not answering.
"Why should you," Wildman mused. "You've never seen it. This room is home." She pulled her daughter onto her lap, soothing. "Sweetie...don't worry about it. Whether we get back to the Alpha Quadrant or not. We'll always be home for each other. I promise."
Naomi hugged her mother, then looked up. "What about Neelix?"
She's never seen her father, Wildman thought. He's not real. Neelix...is real. "Yes, baby," she murmured. "Neelix too."
******
"I looked for you at dinner." Tom Paris spoke softly as he slid onto the bar stood next to the chief engineer. "You weren't hungry?"
B'Elanna Torres shook her head, once. Carefully. "No."
"Let's see. You didn't feel like eating. Couple drinks sounded better, huh?" He nodded at the empty glasses set on the bar in front of Torres.
"Yep." She glared defiantly at him. "A couple drinks sounded just fine. Maybe more than a couple." There were five empty glasses on the bar. Torres traced her fingers idly on the rim of the sixth.
Tom touched her wrist, concerned. "What is it?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Oh. That." He shrugged, idly twirling an empty glass in his fingers.
"Same thing everybody is thinking about right now." B'Elanna leaned over a bit, propping her head on one fist, elbow planted on the bar. "Aren't you?"
He shrugged again. "Sure. I guess so."
"And?" She lifted her chin, her defiance clear.
"I don't know, B'Elanna," Paris said slowly. "It's hard not to, well, think about what'll happen."
She laughed, a short, humorless bark. "Yeah."
He let out a breath. "Come on. It might not be so bad. It might be great."
"I'm sure it will," she nodded seriously. "It'll be wonderful. For...a lot of people."
He leaned over, nudging her. "Hey. Look at the bright side."
"The bright side."
They eyed each other in silence for a moment. Finally she shook her head. "I've been trying. But then I start thinking and I look around and..." A choked laugh. "Do you suppose they'll let me keep anything? My files? My research?"
He sighed. "All right. No illusions, huh?"
Torres was suddenly more sober than she wanted to be. "I'll never have this again. We were criminals, Tom. They'll never let me near an engine room."
Paris grasped B'Elanna's hand in his fist and brought it to his lips. "I know. You think I haven't thought of that? After all we've done out here...after all we've been through." A rueful laugh. "If I'm lucky I'll be driving a bus. If they'll even let me stay in Starfleet." He looked directly at her. "If I even want to stay in Starfleet."
She nodded. "For most people it'll be great. But let's not kid ourselves, all right?"
"All right." He put a hand on her chin, turned her face toward him. "You and me, B'Elanna."
Eyes glittering, Torres nodded fiercely. At least they'd be able to salvage something out of the mess they'd made of their lives, back home. She laughed once, shortly. 'Home'.
*****
Alpha shift was over, dinner had been consumed, and Tuvok had followed a hunch -- well, subliminal data subconsciously integrated -- to the Astrometrics lab. It was normally manned at this hour only by an ensign on station-keeping, collating input. But Seven of Nine was there. She was working feverishly, as if her discovery of this morning could be repeated if only she looked hard enough.
They had begun a conversation, and he had finally convinced her that, Borg implants or no, she required rest as did any human. They were walking together, now, toward her regeneration unit in Cargo Bay Two. Tuvok slowed his pace as they neared the chamber. "I will admit to some...concern...with regard to today's actions," he said soberly.
"In what respect?" Seven turned to face him.
"There are...several areas. First: the aliens who seem to regard the network you discovered as their property."
"Whether they created it, or have merely assumed custody, was irrelevant." Seven looked prepared to argue. "We needed that relay. They wanted to prevent our using it."
"I am not questioning our need, Seven. I merely state that we may not have yet paid the full price for our actions. There is a saying: 'Possession is nine-tenths of the law'."
"I do not recognize that reference."
"A common terran assumption. In this case, it implies that the aliens will be...spurred to some action after our use of the relay. We do not know their strength."
"You believe I was wrong to take action on the bridge."
"My opinion is of no consequence. I expect the Captain will have more to say to you on the subject," Tuvok said mildly. "In any case, if these aliens are strong enough, or determined enough, to take action against us, we will soon find that out. Speculation would be pointless. No. At the moment, I address another concern: I refer to the consequences of Starfleet finally being made aware that Voyager is in the Delta Quadrant."
"Starfleet knowledge of our existence can have little consequence," Seven frowned. "We still cannot reach them. The crew seems...happy to have their whereabouts known, but that is all."
They stopped outside Cargo Two. Tuvok turned to the human. "You should not underestimate the power of a 'morale boost'. However, that was not my point. For the first time since our arrival in the Delta Quadrant, Starfleet knows we are alive. They know we are here."
"I have accessed the Borg database in my memory. My recollections of Starfleet are of an organization that is...inefficient," Seven hesitated, obviously trying to use the 'tact' concerning which she had so recently been reprimanded.
Tuvok almost smiled. "The Borg may have insufficient data. Starfleet has many flaws. It is nonetheless a formidable organization. Now they know the Voyager survives, they will be determined to retrieve us." Seven remained obviously doubtful.
"You are not usually obtuse," he said sharply. "Surely you have considered that Starfleet may well find a way reach us. Should we return to the Alpha Quadrant at any time soon, your own life will be severely affected."
"Why?" Seven narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Why me, in particular?" she clarified.
She is a student. She has much left to learn. And to teach, Tuvok reminded himself. "Seven of Nine. You are a human who was assimilated by the Borg at a young age. Your entire life since, until recent events, was spent as an active member of the Borg. Have you not considered that Starfleet will want to question you? Extensively, I would assume."
She shrugged. "I will answer their questions..." she offered, her attitude clearly stating, 'and that will be that'.
He was tempted to smile at her naivete. For all her knowledge, Seven was a child still. "Then, in that event, I ask that you remember two things."
"Yes?"
"One. Exercise extreme...patience in dealing with Starfleet. They will be thorough, repetitive, and will seem to be dense and ignorant. This will likely be a pretense."
"Very well. I will remember. And the second?"
"Ah. I would remind you of a quote from the text of Prixen. 'We are in the arms of family. We do not stand alone.'"
He watched her, and saw that she did not yet understand. But she would remember.
*****
Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay paused outside Janeway's quarters. "Come on in for a minute. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."
"Okay."
Once inside Janeway sighed deeply, her fatigue showing. "On second thought, help yourself, please, Chakotay. All of a sudden I'm tired." She settled back onto the couch. "Strange day."
"I don't really want the coffee anyway. Yes. It has been."
She slid sideways a little to make room for him on the couch. "I can't even sort out my feelings."
He smiled gently at her. "It's hard not to hope, isn't it?"
"Hmm," she said noncommittally. Her eyes raked over him. "Don't think I didn't notice what you did today."
Chakotay looked down for an instant, then lifted his eyes to Janeway's. "What did I do?"
"'My cousin in Ohio'?" she quoted. "What was that supposed to be."
"Oh. You should have seen your face," he smiled, with seeming irrelevance.
She glanced over. "Why?"
"You looked like a little girl, just for a minute. The day before Christmas. I didn't want to burst the bubble."
"I'm not a little girl, Chakotay."
He laughed softly. "All right. Reprimand noted."
"--Do you?"
"What."
"Have a cousin in Ohio."
His eyes were untroubled. "No, Captain."
Janeway shook her head slowly. "Tell me something."
He smiled. "All right."
"Do you really want to get home?"
"Sure."
"Would you please stop being so polite. If that's even what it is. Do. You. Want. To. Get. Home."
Chakotay stood up, restless suddenly. "It's...going to be difficult in some ways, you know. If it should happen soon."
Janeway nodded. "I know. But you realize I'll do everything I can."
"Of course. The question is, will that be enough." He shook his head. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not doubting you, Kathryn, either your intentions or your...determination."
"But--"
Chakotay shrugged. "I'm just being realistic."
"I know," Kathryn nodded. "I'm not naive, Chakotay. After all, I was sent to retrieve a band of hardened terrorists." They exchanged a smile before her eyes grew thoughtful again. "Of course, if you think about it...it's been years. We have no idea what we'll be facing. Any of us."
"That's true. There could be...any number of changes." Chakotay looked directly at her.
She didn't evade the unspoken question. Exactly. "I know that. There are changes." She shrugged, trying to change the subject. "For all of us."
Chakotay stood up and moved toward the replicator. "I think I'll get something after all. Do you want some coffee?"
"What I'd really like is a drink."
He got a cup of tea for himself and a cognac for Janeway. As he placed her glass on the table, she touched his arm. "Chakotay?"
"Hmm?"
"You didn't answer my question."
He hid his smile. "Which question was that?"
"Do you want to get home?"
Chakotay's gaze was warm and direct. "I am home, Kathryn."
FIN
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