Today's Special by Darrel W. Beach May, 1997 Chapter 6 Tom awoke feeling much more himself, except for the incredible aching in the pit of his stomach and the awful, gluey film lining his mouth. "Ah, you're awake. Feeling better, Mr. Paris?" The Doctor sounded almost cheerful. "Bleaugh, maybe with a glass of water I would," he answered, his voice still rough-edged. Out of nowhere Kes appeared with a glass. The Doctor ran his tricorder over the lieutenant. "Well, the good news is that you appear to have made a complete recovery." "Yeah? What's the bad news?" "You get to help us look after 147 soon-to-be garvola addicts suffering withdrawals ten times worse than what you experienced." Startled, Tom propped himself up on the bed. "Garvola addicts?" "Yes, Tom - addicts," Kes explained. "We found out that the crew is experiencing a physiological dependency on the herb. If it hadn't been for you the ship would be facing a major crisis right now." The memory of the Addie he encountered in prison flashed through his mind again. Shaking it off, he sat up and saw Commander Chakotay lying on a biobed across the room. "Hey, what's he doing here?" "Commander Chakotay activated my program earlier this morning concerned for his health, so it was necessary to inform him of the situation. He agreed to stay here to overcome the withdrawal symptoms as you did. Fortunately he should make a quick recovery, enough that he can assist us as well." "Great, we could use all the help we can get. So, when does rush hour begin?" Neelix stared out at the huge line-up stretching out past the mess hall entrance. It was a pretty ugly sight. Everyone looked like they had picked a fight with a shuttlecraft and lost, and their tempers seemed to match their appearance. People bumped and jostled to get a better position in line, then started pushing and shoving each other as tempers flared. Several fist fights were narrowly avoided. It didn't help that most of them had shown up for breakfast ten minutes early, each hoping to get a jump on the competition. He wasn't looking forward to their reactions when they discovered the garvola was all gone. He had prepared his famous Jibbalian seven-spice omelette, but if what The Doctor said was true, his shipmates would care less if he had used seven spices or seven hundred - what they really wanted was garvola. He began sweating bullets as he watched the first few patrons dig in. The reaction was almost identical. Lt. Carey's face screwed up in disgust as he chewed before he grabbed his napkin and spit them out. Infuriated, he grabbed his tray and stalked back to the counter, followed closely from behind by the other diners. "Neelix, this is utter garbage." "Hey, back of the line, buddy," cussed one the officers waiting to be served. "But it's the same seven-spice omelette I always make," the Talaxian placated. "Well, obviously you need to change your recipe. Why don't you put some of that garvola in it?" "I - I can't," Neelix withered. "I'm all out. Our entire supply was used up. I'm sorry." Everyone within earshot of the remark turned white. "What - what do you mean you're out? That's not possible." "I assure you it is possible, Mr. Carey. There's not a speck of garvola remaining." "No, it can't be true," he cried desperately. "You just want to keep it all to yourself." Neelix grew excited as the engineer and several others started making their way into the kitchen. "No, I swear to you, we are all out of garvola. I wouldn't lie to you!" His words went unheeded as the crewmen began ransacking the galley. Carey was visibly upset when he couldn't find Neelix's stash; his hands were shaking even harder as he grabbed the Talaxian by the collar. "Where'd you hide it, Neelix? Tell me!" "Lieutenant Carey! What on earth are you doing?" Carey froze at the admonishing tone of the captain's voice, then just as suddenly he released his grip on the Talaxian and stood at attention. "Captain, this isn't what it seems." "Really? Unless you were assisting Neelix in straightening his shirt, I suggest you tell me exactly what it was you were doing." "Well, you see, captain, Neelix claims that he's completely run out of garvola." Janeway looked alarmed. "That can't be right. Neelix, you assured me that we stocked up on enough garvola to last us at least six weeks. What happened?" Neelix shrugged helplessly. "I miscalculated?" Janeway was about as convinced of the lie as Neelix himself was. "I think we should take a trip to the cargo bay, what do you think, Neelix?" "You're just wasting your time, Captain. You won't find anything there." Janeway suddenly smiled sweetly. "Neelix, where are you keeping the garvola?" "I'm sorry, captain. As I've already explained, it's all gone." The sweet smile disappeared. "Neelix, I don't want to have to do this, but if you won't tell me where you're storing the garvola voluntarily I'll have to resort to other measures to get you to talk. Now, where are you keeping the garvola." Neelix only shook his head sadly at the captain. "Fine," she bit off, angered by his response. "Let's see how you like Vulcan mind-melds. Lieutenant Tuvok, please report to the mess hall at once." She waited for his acknowledgement, but was rewarded only with silence. She tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Tuvok, please respond." When he failed to answer, she grew irritated. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Tuvok." "Lieutenant Tuvok is in his quarters," the computer blandly replied. "Come on, Neelix; we're going to make a house call," she stated, seizing the Talaxian by the cuff of his jacket. First she would get the information she needed, then she would reprimand the chief security officer for his negligent behaviour. He'd have to be dying to justify ignoring her, even more so now that her headache was getting worse. Reaching the entrance to Tuvok's quarters, the captain angrily slapped at the door panel. When the doors did not open she used her command code to override the door lock. This time the doors offered no resistance. She roughly shoved Neelix through the open doorway and followed him in. The room was unoccupied, leaving Janeway with two possible scenarios. "Computer, did Lieutenant Tuvok leave his quarters since I last asked for his location?" "Negative." The remaining option made Janeway even more irritable - the computer's response meant that the Vulcan was most likely still in his bed chamber. The thought of her chief security officer still asleep made her head pound so hard her eyes lost focus. With a full head of steam she tramped into his bedroom. "Lieutenant, you'd better have a good explanation for -" The unmoving form on the bed greeted her with peaceful silence. Unfortunately it only bolstered her anger, the captain now convinced that the Vulcan was sleeping on the job. "Mr. Tuvok!" Her shout bounced off of the bulkhead but the Vulcan didn't even stir. She walked up to his bedside and tried to shake him awake. "Mr. Tuvok, wake up." There was still no response. The captain was no longer upset: she was afraid. "Tuvok?" She pressed her fingers up against his carotid artery to check his pulse but she couldn't find any. The true horror of what was before her slowly surfaced in her consciousness. "Oh my god. He's dead." Her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor. She blacked out before she was even aware of it. For the next four days *Voyager* hung dead in space - Commander Chakotay thought it best to shut down the ship's main power and propulsion systems to minimize power consumption. It also seemed prudent considering that there was no one able to run the ship at the time either. Shortly after the captain's black out the rest of the crew began to succumb to the effects of withdrawal. Within the span of two hours every single officer still affected by the garvola was physically incapacitated. An internal sensor sweep easily located the stricken crewmen. Most of them were assembled in the mess hall or along a passage headed for the food storage cargo bay; of the rest, many were localized in the main duty areas like the bridge. The Vulcan officers, however, were found unconscious in their own quarters. The Doctor hypothesized that the Vulcans had either consciously or unconsciously realized the poisonous effects of the herb and had taken self-corrective actions to counter them. Subsequent tricorder scans confirmed his hypothesis and predicted their return to health in the following forty-eight to seventy-two hours. While The Doctor replicated an appropriate quantity of sedative to administer to the afflicted crewmen, the holodecks were programmed to recreate medical infirmaries large enough to accommodate them. It would be a close measure trying to fit nearly fifty people per holodeck, but The Doctor could easily visit each area without worrying about his mobile holographic emitter. It would also be easier to keep the crew from hurting themselves. Chakotay, Paris, Neelix and Kes then spent the next several hours manually transporting the addicts to the infirmaries. It wound up being a very rough four days for everyone involved. Chakotay had some experience as a medical technician - he occasionally found himself in emergency medical situations as a member of the Maquis - but he felt overwhelmed by the current circumstances. Tom struggled with his emotions and his past as he looked after his sick shipmates. Neelix constantly agonized over the whole ordeal, feeling completely responsible for nearly killing the whole crew even though he couldn't have anticipated it. Kes empathized with the stricken crew as her Ocampa heritage dictated and with the others as well, sensing how difficult it was for each of them. The Doctor, being the busiest of all, demonstrated an intense strength and determination to work the crew back into health. And then there were the patients themselves. The four crewmen were not prepared for what they witnessed. The recovering addicts experienced an assortment of symptoms: severe stomach and muscle cramps, convulsions, pains in limb joints, headaches, pupil dilation, high fever, intense hallucinations, delirium tremens, and paranoia. It would have been possible to relieve many of the symptoms if the population had been fairly small, but with 147 people there was just too much demand on the raw stock material. The most they could afford were the nutrition supplements and appetite suppressants. It was a decision The Doctor found very difficult to accept. It was a difficult decision for all of them when they heard the screams of fear and the sobs of pain. Captain Janeway gradually awoke, not familiar with the room she found herself in. She hadn't really been sure of anything, only that she had been through hell a hundred times over for God knows how long. She'd had horrible nightmares: of the Vidiians capturing her crew and subjecting them to unspeakable experiments despite her efforts to fight and escape; of watching helplessly as Cyssperia destroyed her ship one piece at a time; of drifting through a soundless void; of watching idly as her friends around her withered and died, and many others. The light stung her eyes and she blinked hard, trying to focus. She tried to sit up and noticed right away how weak she felt, but with another effort she managed to get up. Her surroundings resembled a large medical chamber with several occupied beds, those occupants she recognized as members of her crew. The room's architecture definitely resembled the Federation style, so she was unsure if they had been abducted. She tried to speak but couldn't manage more than a coughing fit. This caught the attention of someone at the other side of the room. It was Commander Chakotay. Immediately he reached for his commbadge and signalled someone. A few seconds later The Doctor appeared at her side. "Captain, I'm glad to see you're finally awake. Please lie down and don't try to talk yet." He looked over at Chakotay. "Commander, please bring the captain some water to drink." The Doctor grabbed a tricorder and passed it over the Captain while they waited for the water. "By the looks of it, captain, you've completely recovered. Congratulations." The first officer arrived with the water. Janeway took the glass and took a few cautious sips. Once her throat felt normal she attempted to speak. "What happened?" she croaked. "It's a very long story," the commander replied. "But to give you the short version, the crew literally got hooked on Neelix's garvola. If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Paris we might not be talking right now." "I look forward to hearing the long version, commander." "Captain, you're free to leave at any time," The Doctor instructed. "Please try to keep your activity light for the next few days, get plenty of rest and maintain a regular diet three times a day. I suggest you go directly to the mess hall; I understand Mr. Neelix has prepared a get-well meal." "Thank you, Doctor." With the commander's help she got up and stretched her legs while he explained in full exactly what occurred. She felt foolish for not heeding Lt. Paris' warning before, now that they had fully realized the terrible consequences of the garvola. The herb had clouded her judgement but she still felt responsible for not taking full precautions, and for that she owed him an apology. Tom rushed about Holodeck 1 to greet his patients as they woke up from their long rest. It was such a rewarding feeling to see them recovered, knowing he had done his part to save them. Miraculously the scans showed a 100% recovery; there would be no outward signs of their addiction, as if they had never been introduced to garvola only a week ago. "Mr. Paris, I need a word with you." Seeing the captain walking in with her usual sense of purpose and confidence was a welcome sight. "Captain, I'm glad to see you're feeling better." He wanted to give her a warm reassuring hug but knew she wouldn't approve of such behaviour. "The feeling is definitely mutual," she replied smiling. "Tom, I want to apologize for not listening to you when you tried to warn me about the garvola. I know I wasn't myself at the time, but I still had the responsibility of protecting my crew, whether I thought there's a risk or not. I'm sorry." He was at a loss for words. "Uh, thank you, captain." "Mr. Paris, you are needed over here." The familiar deep voice made Janeway's hair stand on end. It couldn't be him, could it?