Disclaimer: Star Trek
Voyager and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No
copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: A response to Alara's Series
Shift Challenge
In Luck Time
By Rocky
Janeway strode rapidly down the corridor, then broke into a run as she
rounded the corner and saw the security officers clustered outside
Tuvok's quarters.
"Where is he?" she demanded.
Immediately the door opened and two guards emerged, half-supporting,
half-carrying Tuvok between them. The Vulcan's eyes were wide open, but
he did not seem aware of his surroundings. His face was drawn into a
rictus of pain and his hands were clenched rigidly at his sides.
"Commander, can you hear me?" Janeway leaned closer. "Tuvok?"
There was no response.
"Take him to Sickbay," Janeway said, then turned to an obviously shaken
Neelix who was leaning against the wall. "What happened here?"
"I don't really know," Neelix said, drawing a trembling hand across his
forehead and then smoothing his whiskers down, almost as if reassuring
himself they were still there. "I noticed Tuvok hadn't been to the Mess
Hall for a couple of days, and his replicator rations hadn't been in
use, either. So I thought I'd bring him a little something to eat."
"Go on."
"I showed up this evening with a bowl of plomeek soup. At first, he didn't
want to open the door, but when I insisted I wasn't going anywhere
until he did—" Neelix took a deep breath. "He threw it at me! Actually
threw it at my head!"
Janeway became aware for the first time of the metal bowl lying on the
floor in a rapidly congealing puddle of orange liquid. There was a
matching stain on the wall.
"What could possibly be wrong with Tuvok?" Neelix cried. "I've never
seen him like this before! Never!"
"I don't know," Janeway said grimly. "But I intend to find out."
The Doctor straightened up from the biobed as the Captain approached.
"What's the status of your patient, Doctor?"
"I've given Commander Tuvok a sedative and he's resting peacefully. He
should remain unconscious for another hour or so."
"Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"Yes, I do. Hormone levels, neurotransmitters—it's the Pon Farr,
Captain."
Janeway bit her lip and sighed. "I was afraid of that. Is there
anything you can do for him?"
"Not I, Captain," the Doctor answered and gave her a meaningful look.
"No, Captain!" Chakotay said heatedly, struggling to control himself.
"There's got to be another way."
Janeway paused in her work and looked up at her first officer, who had
placed both hands on her desk. "Chakotay," she said patiently, while
moving a PADD out from under his fingers. "We've gone through this
already. Tuvok is in the throes of Pon Farr, and unless something is
done—and done soon—we're going to lose him."
"But there must be some other way!"
"There isn't. We're 40,000 light years away from Vulcan. And he's too
far into it for meditation to do any good."
"Can't the Doctor come up with a medical treatment?"
Janeway shook her head. "No. There are no known chemical inhibitors
that can reverse the process without killing him."
"What about a holographic mate?"
"You know how well that worked for Ensign Vorik," Janeway said, rolling
her eyes. "Chakotay, the drive to mate, to join with another being, is
not just a physical urge but a mental one as well."
The mention of Vorik gave Chakotay another idea. "Well, can't we just
have B'Elanna beat the tar out of him?"
"Not in her present condition, no."
"Right, I forgot she was pregnant," Chakotay muttered. "Well, can't
someone else mate with Tuvok? Why does it have to be you?"
"Tuvok is my oldest friend on board this vessel," Janeway reminded him.
"We've served together for many years. I can't just let him die."
"There has to be someone else," Chakotay said stubbornly. "What about
Seven?"
"She's still a virgin, Chakotay. It wouldn't be right."
"No, I suppose not," Chakotay said. "But I still have to say, Captain,
I don't approve of your decision."
"I'd do the same for any member of my crew." Janeway rose from her
seat. "I didn't call you in here for a debate, Commander. My mind is
made up."
"Yes, I can see that," Chakotay said bitingly.
She ignored his tone. "I just wanted to apprise you of the fact that
I'm going to be off-duty—and out of contact--for the next several days,
and to go over a few things with you in case anything serious occurs
during my absence." She laid her hand on his arm and gave him a smile.
"Though I know I'm leaving the ship in good hands. I have every
confidence in you, Chakotay."
Chakotay nodded, pathetically grateful for the bone she tossed him.
"I'll do my best, Captain."
Three days later, Chakotay watched in astonishment as Tuvok literally
bounced on to the bridge for Alpha Shift, greeting everyone he passed
with, "Live long and prosper!"
"He seems to have recovered from his case of the flu in a pretty
chipper mood," Tom muttered from the helm.
Chakotay silently agreed. He waited with bated breath to see what shape
the Captain would be in.
He didn't have to wait long. "Good morning," Janeway said breezily as
she made her way to her seat.
Chakotay studied her carefully. Aside from some bags under her eyes,
Janeway looked none the worse for wear from her ordeal. In fact, she
seemed a lot more relaxed than she had been for some time.
"I take it your 'project' was concluded successfully?" he couldn't help
asking.
"Oh, yes," Janeway said with a smile. "Quite successfully, indeed."
Chakotay sighed and turned back to his monitor.
The Doctor reacted with astonishment. "But Commander, why would you
want me to do that?"
"Just answer my question," Chakotay said firmly. "Can you or can't you?"
"Of course I can," the Doctor said. "It's a simple operation, after
all. But you still haven't explained why you want me to 'bob' your
ears."
FINIS
Back to Rocky's Road
email the author