Today's Special

by Darrel W. Beach
May, 1997


Chapter 7

	Glancing around the lieutenant, Captain Janeway saw the Vulcan 
security officer standing over a groggy Ensign Kim.  "Tuvok."
	The Vulcan, upon hearing his name, looked straight at her.  
"Captain."
	She walked over to him, a wide-eyed expression on her face.  "How 
can this be?  Tuvok, I - I thought you were dead."
	"An illogical assumption, captain: I did not ingest a large enough 
quantity of garvola to cause death."
	"But I saw you, Tuvok.  I couldn't find a pulse."
	"Mr. Neelix informed me of what transpired five days ago when you 
attempted to confront me in my quarters.  When I discovered I was ill I put 
myself into a hypnotic state to fight off the garvola sickness, resulting 
in a slowing down of my autonomic functions.  Even despite your 
garvola-induced condition, your perceptions could have led you to believe 
that I was deceased."
	She stood there before him in silence.  Of course, she knew and 
understood Vulcan physiology and the process of the healing trance.  Why 
hadn't she thought of that when she was in Tuvok's quarters?  "Well, I'm 
glad it was just a figment of my imagination.  I don't know how I'd get by 
without your counsel."  Her stomach growled, breaking up the intimacy of 
the moment.  Janeway turned red with embarrassment.
	"Perhaps you should visit the mess hall, captain," the Vulcan 
politely suggested.
	"Perhaps I will.  Thank you, Lieutenant."  She slunk out of the 
holodeck, still embarrassed.
	A subdued silence filled the mess hall when Janeway entered, 
obviously a result of the crew's uncertainty to what had happened, still 
trying to sort everything out.  Janeway quietly paced over to Neelix, who 
busied himself behind a long table spread with several fruit juices and 
bowls filled with Jell-O and applesauce.
	"Captain!  It's so good to see you up and about again!" cheered the 
Talaxian.  Everyone in the room turned their attention to them - seeing the 
captain was like drawing from a well of confidence.
	"It's good to see you too, Neelix.  I hope you haven't been too 
hard on yourself through all of this.  From what I understand, there was no 
way you could have known how it would have affected us."
	The Talaxian squirmed uncomfortably.  "Well, I've been trying not 
to let it get to me, captain.  It hasn't been easy."
	"It's going to be an adjustment for all of us, but we'll find a way 
to deal with it.  Now, where is this get-well meal The Doctor mentioned?"
	"You're standing in front of it, actually.  The Doctor specifically 
stated that it will take your digestive systems a little while to right 
themselves and so to make a few selections that will be easier on your 
stomachs.  Lieutenant Paris helped me with the menu," he remarked, picking 
up a green mass.  "Lime Jell-O, captain?"

	<Captain's log, supplemental:  After five days adrift, the Voyager 
has resumed her course back home.  Most of the crew is still shaken by the 
recent garvola incident but operations are slowly returning to normal.  The 
Doctor has already filed an official medical report on this incident 
outlining the exact nature of the herb plant and its effects on the crew, 
but as commanding officer I feel obligated to comment on the social impact 
the garvola has had.
	<The ramifications concerning the consumption of garvola are at the 
least very disturbing.  While under its influence, I allowed my impaired 
judgement to sway my decision to address the concerns brought to me by 
Lieutenant Paris.  If left unchecked the consequences for my crew would 
have been fatal.  In this regard I cannot dispute the decision of our chief 
medical officer to not inform me of his solution to the problem, as I 
probably would not have permitted him to continue in my impaired state.  As 
such, I have made note in the service records of Lieutenant Paris, Mr. 
Neelix and the Emergency Medical Holographic program for exemplary 
performance under adverse conditions.>

	The captain discontinued the log and sat back in her chair, angrily 
reflecting upon her words and the decisions that had resulted in this 
crisis.  She was angry at herself for not recognizing Tuvok's healing 
trance, for not considering that he could have been in trouble when she 
first tried to contact him in the mess hall, for even dismissing Lt. Paris' 
explanation of a potential threat to her vessel and crew that very first 
day.  She had failed in her responsibilities as commanding officer of 
*Voyager* to protect her ship from harm.
	Or had she?  She stopped and really thought about it for a moment.  
As a starship captain, one strives to impress the values of loyalty, duty, 
dedication and teamwork upon her subordinate officers.  To put the security 
of the ship and the lives of your fellow crewmates before your own life is 
a goal sought by all captains.  So shouldn't the actions by Tom Paris, 
Neelix, and The Doctor be a sufficient demonstration of this?  They 
protected the ship from harm when the captain was physically and mentally 
incapable of doing so.  Perhaps she shouldn't be so hard on herself after 
all.
	
	Tom strolled into the mess hall in good spirits.  "Hi, Neelix."
	"Good afternoon, lieutenant," Neelix chirped from behind the 
kitchen counter.  "Isn't it a most wonderful day today?"
	"Well, we haven't been faced with any life-threatening situations 
yet, so I suppose I'd have to agree with you," Tom returned.  "What about 
you, Neelix; how are you holding up?"
	"Oh, I'm getting by just fine now," he chatted.  "Kes has really 
been helping me through this, bless her kind heart.  Plus I've been working 
on some new recipes to get myself going again, only this time I've checked 
with the Doctor to make sure all of the ingredients are safe.  Would it be 
all right if I asked you for an unbiased opinion?"
	"I, uh -"  *Uh-oh.  I need to find an excuse, fast.*  Out of the 
corner of his eye he noticed Harry walking into the mess hall and right 
toward him.  "Normally I'd love to, Neelix, but I just came in for a quick 
bite.  Harry and I have pressing matters to attend to," he lied, raising 
his voice so Harry would hear.  He hoped the ensign would catch on.  "Isn't 
that right, Harry?"
	"What?  I'm came here to eat lunch, Tom."  So much for that.  The 
pilot wanted to strangle him right then.
	"Good for you, Mr. Kim; there's nothing so important that you can't 
enjoy a hot, home-made meal.  Now I can get your opinion, too.  Don't 
worry, Mr. Paris, it won't take up too much of your time."
	Harry just then realized what his friend was trying to communicate. 
All he could do was smile lamely as Tom glared coldly at him while walking 
into the galley.
	"Don't be afraid to give me your honest evaluation," the Talaxian 
issued as he handed each of them a big serving spoon filled with a thick 
greenish sauce speckled with orange and yellow flecks.
	Tentatively Tom raised the spoon to his mouth and sampled.  The 
only thought that occurred to him was that the garvola must have dulled his 
taste buds.  That had to be it - it was the only explanation he wanted to 
accept.

End