Strength Made Perfect - Chapter 5

A Star Trek: Voyager Short Story
By Adrian Hilton

The door to Holodeck Two was locked. Celes didn't find it much of an obstruction.

"Override, code Gilmore Chi Nine." The door hissed open.

The holoprogram was low on decor; a white-painted training room with bars, punchbags and sets of weights around the edge. Most of the floor was taken up with canvas matting.

Marla was in her sweats in the middle of the matting, going hammer and tongs at a faceless opponent in martial arts garb. Bare feet and hands were thudding into bodies hard enough for the sound to be heard halfway across the holodeck.

Celes raised an eyebrow. So this was Marla's kickboxing program. She'd wondered what it was like. Propping herself against the wall she watched the fight.

Marla swung a high-section kick at the side of her opponent's head. He blocked it, stepped inside and did something that knocked Marla sprawling to the ground, the wind shooting out of her with an "oof!" She rolled back to her feet and went at him again. This time he side-stepped the kick, pushed his own kick at her abdomen, then pulled it back and snapped a higher kick that caught her full in the face. Marla went down like a sack of bricks.

Celes cried out and half-limped, half-hopped over to her body. "Computer, freeze program!"

Marla's face was covered in blood, most of it coming from her nose. Now Celes could see that this clearly wasn't the first time she'd been hit; one eye was blackening up and her cheekbone sported an impressive bruise.

"Marla! Open your eyes!" Celes looked up at the control panel. "Computer, what's the safety lock status?"

"Holodeck safeties are off," reported the computer.

"Oh, you silly, silly girl." Celes gently wiped off the worst of the blood with her jacket sleeve. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Wrstfgl...?" Marla opened her eyes, sneezed and cried out in pain, clutching at her nose.

"Stay right there; I'll get a regenerator." Celes pulled a convenient medkit off the wall and returned to her stunned friend. The regenerator had thoughtfully been placed right at the top of the kit; Celes powered it up and started waving it over what had been Marla's nose.

"What're you doing here?" Marla asked with difficulty.

"I was coming to say hi," said Celes tartly, "but it seems that I've just got an field promotion to a nursing position." The worst of the damage was starting to fade. Celes changed the regenerator focus to Marla's eye. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me why you're trying so hard to get your head kicked in? I mean, I'm only your best friend."

"How long have you got?" asked Marla, half-sitting and wincing as the stars cleared from around her head.

Celes checked Marla's chronometer. "About two minutes to get back to Sickbay before the Doc notices I'm missing." She pressed the regenerator into Marla's hand. "Fix the rest yourself. I've got to go. But promise me that you won't do this again until we've talked."

"I promise."

"I'll see you later." Celes limped out.

The vent cover was jammed. Celes wrestled with it, swearing steadily. Then she heard the voices of the Doctor and Tom Paris coming along the corridor.

Desperation gave her new strength. The cover came off with a 'ping', Celes grabbed the case from inside, jammed the cover back on and dove through the Sickbay doors. Once inside she dropped the case by the Captain's bed, hopped up onto her own bed and pulled a blanket over her.

"Celes!" hissed Kathryn. "Jacket!"

For a moment she had no idea what the Captain meant. Then it clicked. She struggled out of Tom's jacket and pitched it onto a handy chair.

Just in time; the doors reopened to admit the Voyager medics mid-dispute.

"I'm telling you Doc, they're getting it on."

"Come now, Mr. Paris." The Doctor unloaded his medkit and started downloading data from his PADD. "Your hypothesis is based on the flimsiest of evidence."

"You think? Hey, Captain, Celes." The women nodded at Tom. "Well, two Sickbay shifts says that my hypothesis matches up with the data in that PADD."

The Doctor frowned as the processed data started to come up on the main console. "That's odd. It looks like the virus has spread from the landing party to Ops."

"Really?" There was a smirk on Tom's face. "It's droplet-borne, right?"

"As far as we know," said the Doctor cautiously.

"Try comparison of the protein sequences to give you an epidemiological history," suggested Tom.

A pause. "It appears that Ensign Kim caught it from... but they aren't even in the same area of the ship. How did he manage that?" The Doctor glared at Tom. "Enjoy your free time, Mr. Paris."

Tom laughed, grabbed his jacket and left. Celes tried very hard not to think about what would happen when he looked at the sleeves.

The Doctor retreated to his office, allowing Celes and Kathryn to talk in quiet voices.

"Thank you Celes, you're a life saver. Any problems?" Kathryn asked.

"No, ma'am. Chief Torres was real helpful." Celes decided not to pass on the Chief's imprecations.

"Anyhow, I owe you one."

Celes saw the opportunity. "Can I take that now?"

Kathryn sat up straighter and eyed her carefully. "Maybe. What do you have in mind?"

"Can I leave Astrometrics?"

Kathryn didn't answer this immediately. She reached into her cryo-case, pulled out a bag of coffee and a cafetière, filled one with the other and placed them in the replicator.

"One litre of water, 80°C." The replicator chirped, filling the container with water that mixed in with the coffee grounds and started brewing. That done, she turned back to Celes.

"What would you do instead?"

Celes had this one figured out. "Tom's wasted in Sickbay, ma'am. I'd be happy to be the Doctor's assistant full-time and let Tom revert to being an emergency medic."

Kathryn's eyebrow rose. "I see. Tom would like that arrangement, I grant you, but what makes you think that you'd like working in Sickbay any more than Astrometrics?"

She shrugged. "I can't do the Astrometrics work, Captain. Seven knows that, you know that and I know that. Sickbay -- at worst, there are any number of minor jobs sorting out the stores and drugs which the Doctor hates doing. And my biology and xenobiology marks at the Academy were middling good, so there's hope that I can learn to be useful in treatments."

"The odds are that it wouldn't be particularly exciting, Celes," warned Kathryn. She depressed the plunger and poured out two mugs of steaming brown nectar. "Coffee?"

"Oh, thank you." Celes sipped appreciatively at the brew while the Captain concealed the pot behind a stack of PADDs. "I accept that, Captain. But I'd like to be allowed to try it."

Kathryn chewed her knuckle thoughtfully for a while. "All right. I'll ask Chakotay and Seven, and if they're fine with it then we'll move you."

"And the Doctor?"

"The Doctor will do what he's told," said Kathryn firmly. A small grin twitched the corners of her mouth. "But between you and me, I don't think he'll object to seeing less of Tom."

Later that shift Celes was released by the Doctor with strict instructions to return in the morning for further treatment. Kathryn wasn't alone long, though; Chakotay stuck his head in for an impromptu visit.

"How's the resident invalid?" he asked cheerfully.

"Grouchy from coffee withdrawal," she grumped. "Can't you tell the Doctor to up my ration before I hurt someone?"

Chakotay's nose twitched. A long arm reached behind the PADDs and carefully extracted a cafetière, empty but for sodden coffee grounds.

"Try that on someone without a sense of smell," he advised. Kathryn grinned engagingly.

"Any ice cream?"

"Sorry," Chakotay apologised. "Just a couple of PADDs."

"Ice cream is better at saying: get well soon," she whined.

"PADD number one has the complete works of Hermann Melville; PADD number two is the complete text of your monthly report to Starfleet, needing only a thumbprint."

"Forget anything I ever said about ice cream." She thumbed the second PADD and handed it back. "Except coffee ice cream. That's still welcome."

Chakotay smiled. "Got time for a talk?"

"Pull up a chair." She put the first PADD on her reading pile. "What's new?"

"I took your advice."

"That's new," she teased. "How'd it go?"

"We need to find Marla Gilmore a new position outside Security. And would you like your ship back, Captain?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said slyly. "You seem to be looking after it pretty well."

"I'm not the Captain that you are," he replied. "I can lead, but I can't inspire. I can order a crewman to clean the plasma conduits, but I can't make them do it with a song in their heart. I can battle a Borg sphere, but I can't make the Borg Queen fear the very mention of my name. The ship needs her Captain back."

Kathryn had the grace to blush, but found a reply.

"Without my first officer, I'd have no joy in doing any of those things."

She looked hard at him. "You'd obey my every order?"

"Aye, Captain."

She reached out to him. "In five minutes I want to be in my ready room with the biggest pot of coffee you can find, and five minutes after that I want Celes, Marla, Seven, Tuvok and the Doctor in front of me."

"Your uniform?" said Chakotay with trepidation, swinging her up into his arms.

"My pips are the only uniform I need. Send Naomi to get them."

"Yes, Captain. And after that?"

"After that? I want to spend a night in my own bed. And I don't want the Doctor throwing any 'if's or 'but's at me."

"Consider it done. He won't be happy." Kathryn glared at him, and he pressed on. "Just an observation. I can't conceive of it making the slightest difference to your intentions."

"Right."

Chakotay's observation was proven accurate two seconds later when the Doctor came out of his office as if chased by a rabid targ. "Captain! Commander! Where are you going?"

"To my ready room, Doctor," said Kathryn firmly.

"Impossible. You're in no state to resume work," insisted the irate Doctor.

"After that," said Kathryn, "I'm going to my bedroom where I'm going to sleep undisturbed for ten hours. Because if I'm woken by one more aria then I'm afraid I may do considerable damage to Sickbay's systems. Up to and including its software."

The Doctor saw that he was on the losing end of the argument. "Very well. I'm only the chief medical officer. What do I know?" He glared at Chakotay. "But I must insist that the Captain not be left alone overnight. Her physical state is still fragile."

"I'm sorry Doctor, but..." Chakotay was cut off mid-sentence by the Captain. "Your advice is noted, Doctor. I promise to have someone keep an eye on me." She nodded at Chakotay. "Let's move, Commander, you've only got three of those minutes left."

They proceeded down the corridor in silence for a few seconds. "Tell me Kathryn," said Chakotay finally, "who and what exactly did you have in mind?"

Kathryn just grinned at him. "Two minutes and thirty seconds, Commander."

Seven led Marla through Astrometrics. "Your first task is the analysis of the nebula through which we must pass in two days." She passed over a PADD. "Familiarise yourself with the sensor readings."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I need a preliminary report identifying all major hazards by the end of your shift."

Marla gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

"It is not necessary to call me 'ma'am'. 'Seven' will suffice."

"Yes, Seven."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, Seven. Why did you agree to take me on?"

Seven stopped and eyed her new recruit. "Your record suggests competence in numerical analysis, which this department needs." She paused. "But your question was not about your abilities, correct?"

Marla nodded.

"This crew gave me a second chance by taking me back from the Collective. It would not be right to refuse you a second chance."

"I won't disappoint you, Seven," she promised.

Tuvok's quarters were quiet and dark. Tuvok himself was meditating, staring out of his window at the infinite blackness. In front of him bobbed the flame of the candle which he had long ago lit for Kes.

The quiet chime of the doorbell broke his reverie.

"Come."

Crewman Gilmore walked in as if she were treading on eggshells. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Commander. Is this a bad time? Were you doing something important?"

Tuvok's basic respect for accuracy compelled him to reply. "I was meditating. But this time is no worse than any other. How may I be of assistance, Crewman?"

Crewman Gilmore shifted her weight from foot to foot, a mannerism Tuvok had often observed in her. He had hypothesised that it denoted discomfort, but lacked confirming or contradicting evidence.

"Why did you let me go?" she blurted out.

"You are referring to your transfer to Astrometrics? The Commander requested the transfer, and Seven of Nine was willing to accept you. There was no logical reason to oppose you leaving Security."

"But you don't want me to go," Marla pressed on. "You don't think I can be trusted."

"You are correct," said Tuvok blandly. "I believe that it is not in the interest of ship security to allow you wider access to the ship's systems."

"So why did you agree?" Marla's frustration and confusion finally tumbled out.

Tuvok poured himself some tea from the pot, slowly and precisely filling the cup. It gave him time to frame the answer.

"The most simple answer to the question you asked is: because the Commander asked me to. But there is a deeper question beyond that which you asked. I shall attempt to explain, for I feel that it may have value. Tea?"

Marla shook her head impatiently, but Tuvok gestured for her to sit.

"Why did you come here this evening?" he asked.

"I wanted to know why you had changed your mind!" Wasn't it obvious?

"My mind has not been changed. So you now have what you wanted. Is that not enough?"

"No!" Marla caught herself. "No, Commander, it isn't enough. I thought I understood you, having worked under you for a year, but I don't understand at all what you did today."

Tuvok nodded, as if she had paid him a compliment.

"A student may surpass his teacher in knowledge, though the teacher towers over the student in wisdom. A warrior may wield a fiercer sword than his emperor, yet accept the emperor as his leader in battle. There is a natural order to things which the wise respect."

He turned around a holophoto on the table between them. A Vulcan family gazed up at Marla.

"I am less than whole without my family. Had I desire as do humans, I would say that there was nothing I desired more than to return to them. Yet alone I could never return from this Quadrant, and alone I could not long command this ship. The Captain and the Commander are the ones to take us home. Without the Captain to drive the crew and the Commander to hold the crew together, the ship would fall apart."

He looked steadily at Marla. "Have you found what were you seeking?"

Marla met his gaze. The dark Vulcan eyes seemed to be piercing straight into her mind.

"Uh, yes, thank you Commander." She jumped to her feet, fumbled a salute and made for the door.

"Crewman!"

Marla halted, hand on the door lock. Busted.

"A quest for understanding is to be respected. Should you wish to search further, my door is open to you."

"Yes sir," Marla nodded, taking her leave with impressive speed.

On to Chapter 6

Back to Chapter 4