Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters belong to Paramount, who has done even sillier things to them than this. No copyright infringement is intended.

Story Notes: Written in response to a spoiler/rumor for the (aptly named) episode "Human Error."

Dedication: For the 1001 bunch.
 
 

IN HIS IMAGE

"And God created Man in His image. Then, a few thousand years later, Man turned around and created holograms in his."--- Dr. L. Zimmerman (apocryphal)

The command team emerged from the Ready Room, the first officer's face a thundercloud. The captain, in contrast, looked ready to burst out laughing.

"Open shipwide speakers," ordered Janeway as she settled herself into her chair. At a nod from Harry at Ops she began: "Attention all hands. I am sorry to disturb you, but a situation--" here she glanced at Chakotay who made a quick emphatic gesture "--a very serious situation has been brought to my attention.

"As you are all aware, according to Starfleet regulation 401-555B, which governs the use of holodecks and holoprograms aboard starships, it is illegal to make a holoimage of an individual without consent. This rule applies to images of fellow officers, and it should go without saying, to superior officers as well."

She paused, and glanced over at Chakotay, who folded his arms and looked even grimmer than before.

"Specifically, I have been notified that someone onboard this vessel has made a holographic version of our first officer, Commander Chakotay. I am not going to go into specifics, but I will say that at this point we are not as interested in punishing the offender as we are in putting a stop to the offense. Perhaps it was an honest mistake, and the perpetrator was unaware that such actions are illegal."

Chakotay made a small noise in his throat that sounded very much like a cross between "Humph!" and a snort.

Janeway hastily went on, "To that end, we have placed a receptacle outside of the Mess Hall. The individual--" In an undertone she muttered, "No, I am not going to use the word criminal." She resumed in her normal voice, "The individual responsible has until the end of the shift to turn it in, no questions asked."

She motioned for the channel to be closed and turned to her XO. "Are you satisfied, Commander?"

"It's a start," he admitted grudgingly.


At the beginning of the next shift, Janeway, Chakotay and Tuvok headed toward the Mess Hall and halted outside the door. Janeway pointed toward the bin. "Would you care to do the honors, Tuvok?"

The Vulcan security chief reached inside and then stopped. He opened the top of the receptacle and peered in curiously. Straightening up, he said, "It would appear, Captain, that we have a problem."

"What? There's no holodisc inside?"

"Negative," Tuvok replied. "There is no single disc in the receptacle." He paused. "There are five."


Back in the Ready Room, Janeway and Chakotay prepared to review the security surveillance tapes of the corridors surrounding the Mess Hall.

"OK, these tapes start from the time frame beginning two minutes after I made my announcement. Tuvok figures it would have taken at least that long for the guilty party to retrieve the disc from his or her quarters and get to the Mess Hall. Unless, of course," she gave him a sidelong glance, "You think it may have been Neelix."

Chakotay winced. "No, no, two minutes is fine."

For several minutes they sat watching the empty corridor. Finally, a figure appeared.

"Aha!" yelled Chakotay. Then, "Oh, it's just Samantha Wildman on her way down the hall."

"It doesn't look like she's stopping," agreed Janeway.

One minute later, the Delaney sisters approached. They paused at the door, then one entered while the other remained standing outside. As soon as her sister disappeared from view, she reached inside her jacket, made a quick dropping motion over the receptacle, and hastily entered the Mess Hall herself.

"Aha!" yelled Chakotay again. "Which one was that? Megan? Jenny?"

"I never could tell them apart," answered Janeway. "And anyway, we said no questions asked, remember?"

"You said that," grumbled Chakotay, but he returned his attention to the viewer.

For a long time there was no further progress. Several individuals could be seen walking in or out of the Mess Hall. While some of them glanced curiously at the bin, none of them seemed inclined to make a deposit.

Then within the space of five minutes, two more discs were dropped off.

"There goes Seven," Janeway said.

"Well, we knew about her," Chakotay answered. "What I want to know is, who else---" His words were cut off when the grainy image cleared. "B'Elanna?!"

Janeway shook her head. "Don't ask me." But their surprise was nothing compared to the shock they felt when the next figure furtively approached. It was Tom Paris.

"I really don't want to know," Janeway said weakly. She got herself a restorative cup of coffee and sipped it gratefully. "So how many have we got so far?"

"Four."

"Just one more then."

It wasn't until the last three minutes of the tape that the final perpetrator--Naomi Wildman--made an appearance. "Well, that's that," the captain sighed. She rubbed her eyes wearily. "Now we can go back to our regular---" she stopped. "What?"

Chakotay looked at her and shook his head. "We're not quite finished yet, Captain."

"What do you mean? Five discs were returned, which means---"

"There's one more." He held out his hand. "Come on, Kathryn, hand it over."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said huffily, but not quite meeting his eyes.

"I'm waiting."

With a sigh, she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a disc. "Here."

He pocketed it and turned to go. Just before the door, he stopped and faced her again. "You know, Captain, there's an old saying among my people that may interest you."

"Yes, Commander?"

"'Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby.'" He grinned and beat a hasty retreat.

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered to the closed door.
 

FINIS
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