DISCLAIMER: No profit is intended in the writing of this story. Star Trek:
Voyager and its characters are the property of Paramount and Viacom. "It Was
Your Blood" is the property of Azteca.
NOTE: This was originally written as a spoof ending to "It Was Your Blood" by Azteca, though it’s not necessary to have read that story first. If you wish to however it can be found on Perfect Misfits.
WARNING: Contains homosexual attraction between women and ‘Human Error’ spoilers.
Thanks to Meagan for her work as beta reader.
It Was Your Blood (Part Spoof)
They were on New Earth, stranded there for the rest of their lives, yet Kathryn still wouldn’t drop that damned Starfleet persona. "We have to define some parameters about this relationship," she was saying.
Chakotay put down the headboard he was carving. "I don't know about parameters, but there's an old story among my people..." His voice trailed off as the short captain pulled out a very long list.
"Parameter Number One," said Janeway, fixing him with a stern glare. "You will worship me as a Goddess..."
"Chief Medical Officer to Commander Chakotay."
"Wha__" grunted Chakotay, sitting up in bed. The commander had been experiencing terrible nightmares ever since he’d given his dream catcher to Seven of Nine. He rubbed his bleary eyes, smearing his tattoo all over his forehead in the process. "What is it, Doctor?"
"Please report to Holodeck One," said Doc’s voice over the comm system. He sounded annoyingly perky for this time of the morning. "I have new evidence regarding the assault on Seven of Nine."
"Why the holodeck? What evidence?"
"Turn up and all will be revealed. Chief Medical Officer, out!"
Muttering darkly about the reprogramming of subroutines, Chakotay dressed quickly and left for the holodeck. He ran into the captain on the way. Either Kathryn had changed her hairstyle again or she’d also been woken up too early.
"I’ve been summoned," said Janeway, rolling her eyes. "By the Doctor no less. Holodeck One."
"Me too. Apparently it’s something to do with the attack on Seven of Nine."
"It’ll have to be good to contradict this report by Tuvok," said Janeway, waving a padd. "It doesn’t look good for B’Elanna."
They had some difficulty locating Holodeck One, as it kept changing decks due to Paramount inconsistency. When they did eventually find it there was a further surprise. Instead of a recreation of Cargo Bay Two where the crime had taken place, they found themselves inside a sitting room from England’s late Victorian era. Every one of Voyager’s senior officers was already seated, except for Seven of Nine of course, who was still in Sickbay. Their faces revealed the strain caused by the traumatic events of the past few days.
"What’s this about, Doctor?" asked Janeway, eyeing the silver tea set with distaste. With no coffee it was no wonder the British had lost their Empire.
The Doctor was dressed in a smoking jacket appropriate to his surroundings.
"Now that we are ALL present," said the Doctor snootily. "As you are aware, Seven of Nine was viciously attacked by a brutal and cowardly assailant whilst regenerating. In order to help establish the culprit’s identity, I came up with the brilliant idea of creating a holographic program of Starfleet’s greatest detective."
"That is hardly nec__" Tuvok began, when the door behind him opened and a tall figure dressed in a deerstalker hat and cape strode into the room. His pale skin and yellow eyes revealed him to be an artificial entity.
"Identify yourself!" demanded Janeway. "Who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?"
"Elementary, my good woman," replied the android, earning himself the Glare of Death in response. "My name is Lieutenant Commander Data. I am here due to my extensive experience as a consulting detective. I solved the mystery of how the Moriarty program was able to exit the holodeck in ‘Ship in a Bottle’, brought the time villain Berlinghoff Rasmussen to justice, and answered the vexing question about whether Tasha Yar preferred guys or girls. I am a certified expert in criminal investigation and the sex life of the Borg." He removed a pipe and filled it full of tobacco.
"To inhale nicotine substances when they will have no effect on you is not logical," observed Tuvok.
"Indubitably my dear Vulcan," replied Data, blowing smoke in Lieutenant Paris’ face (for some reason the Doctor had insisted he do that). The android began to pace up and down with deliberate steps. "In a case like this we should first eliminate the usual suspects. Which leads me to my first question." Data turned abruptly, pointing his pipe at Tuvok like a weapon. "Did the butler do it?"
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "The transporter chief has an alibi."
"Mmmm," pondered Data. He clicked his teeth on the pipe stem and wrinkled his brow. "Then perhaps Seven of Nine was attacked by a one-armed man!"
"Unlikely, as the only individual with an artificial limb on Voyager is Seven herself."
"What about a mysterious, seductive, murderous femme fatale with a hidden past?"
"Seska died several years ago."
"How about a woman with an evil twin sister?"
"The Delaney Sisters have alibis as well. They were on Holodeck Two."
"Doing what, exactly?"
"They were playing the Twin Mistresses of Evil," said Tuvok. "These illogical suppositions are a waste of time. Lieutenant Torres is the obvious suspect for this crime."
"WHAT? YOU POINTY-EARED PETAQ!" roared B’Elanna. "I love Seven! I would never do anything to harm her, not even in an angst fanfic!"
"Indisputably, my dear Klingon," said Data in support. He raised a magnifying glass and began studying Neelix, wondering if his unusual hairstyle was an example of ‘visual humour’.
"This sudden declaration of love for Seven is both illogical and highly suspicious," said Tuvok, ignoring the android. "Lieutenant Torres, you have a long history of antagonism with the former drone. You were in the cargo bay while Seven of Nine was regenerating. And you have a motive. Seven has been hogging all your screen time. You have tried to compensate by stripping down to a sweaty tank top but as the Borg’s breasts are much larger than yours these efforts are doomed to failure. So you took the next logical option. Murder." With a dramatic flair appropriate to such denouements, the Vulcan removed a black glove from a stasis chamber. "I found this bloody glove in the airponics bay. It was your blood, Lieutenant Torres."
The other officers gasped in shock. Realising what was happening, the holodeck computer quickly played some appropriately dramatic music.
"I’ve been set up," protested B’Elanna. "It was planted there!"
"That is an illogical statement," replied Tuvok. "Gloves are not planted in the airponics bay. Only vegetables."
"Suppository, my dear Vulcan," was Data’s calm response. "Leaving aside the matter of the glove for the moment, my investigation of the holodeck records shows that there were other possible motives for the attempted murder. Computer, commence ‘Human Error’ flashback!"
Holograms of Seven of Nine and Commander Chakotay appeared, both dressed in yummy civilian clothes. Romantic music swelled as, to the horror of everyone, they flew into each other’s arms.
"Oh Chuckles," cried Seven. "I realised that we have so much in common. We both have funny-shaped things on our foreheads, we both think facial expressions are irrelevant, and...er...that’s it."
The jaw of every single Voyager officer hit the floor in shock.
"Oh Chakotay, how could you?" wailed Janeway.
"There must be...neutronic gradients in the vicinity...I am feeling...rather nauseous," groaned Tuvok, holding his stomach.
"But I...never even liked her...I never wanted her on board...in the first place," moaned the real Chakotay. He turned pale and sunk slowly to the ground at the sight of the Borg sucking on his digit.
"Turn it off, you’re killing them!" shouted the Doctor as his pattern began to break down in photonic disgust. The other Voyager crewmembers were writhing about on the floor in a manner that would have made the actors from The Original Series proud.
"Computer, deactivate ‘Human Error’," said Data, the only one unaffected by the horrible sight. Everyone staggered to their feet.
"Don’t EVER do that again!" gasped Neelix. He looked rather worse for wear, all covered in strange spots.
"Do you take it as incontrovertible," asked an unperturbed Data. "That this holodeck recreation also gives the Captain a motive for assaulting Seven of Nine?" Everyone gasped in shock at this blasphemy against Voyager’s divine ruler.
"Why would Captain Janeway assault Seven with a blunt object?" replied Tuvok, leaping to the defense of his long-time friend. "When she could have killed Seven quickly and silently with her Glare of Death?"
"Inaudibly, my dear Vulcan," agreed Data, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe stem.
"Mr Paris also had a motive," chimed in the Doctor. "What with B’Elanna being in love with Seven!"
"Complementary, my dear Doctor."
"But I didn’t even know about it!" protested the handsome lieutenant. "Besides, I wouldn’t have minded if they’d let me watch."
"Inconceivably, my dear Paris."
"If Lieutenant Torres’ declarations of love are to be believed, this also gives her a motive," said Tuvok.
Data spat out the remains of his pipe stem. "So we do, in fact, have several suspects amongst the Voyager crew. Therefore, and I quote: ‘We must fall back on the old axiom, that when you have eliminated the controversial, whatever remains, however full of technobabble, must be a Star Trek script’."
Data paused for dramatic effect.
"The culprit is...Commander Tuvok!"
Tuvok’s sole response to this grievous charge was to raise his eyebrow again. "That is not logical. As a Vulcan I do not experience either anger or jealousy. I could not have had any incentive to commit the crime."
"But," said Data. "You are NOT Vulcan." The android leaped forward and with his great strength picked Tuvok up by the ears.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGH!" screamed Tuvok as his auricles were stretched to twice their normal length.
"So that’s how he got those things," said Neelix in wonder.
But the little Talaxian was wrong. To the amazement of the others, Tuvok’s ears ripped off!...to reveal a pair of perfectly normal human ears underneath.
"Tuvok!" cried Captain Janeway. "What happened to your ears?"
"That is not Lieutenant Commander Tuvok!" said Data. "He is one of the terrorists who tried to steal the trilithium residue from the Enterprise-D in ‘Starship Mine’. He also fits the description of an individual who was seen on the bridge of the Enterprise-C when Captain James T. Kirk mysteriously disappeared."
"But as an android you have a perfect memory," said B’Elanna, her forehead ridges emphasising her frown. "Why didn’t you reveal this earlier?"
"I had to wait for a suitably dramatic moment in the plot. Besides, according to my records this individual was supposed to have been killed. Captain Picard stunned him with a hypospray and he was subsequently killed by the baryon sweep."
"Yes but you didn’t SEE me die, did you?" said ‘Tuvok’, giving an extremely un-Vulcan-like sneer. "I woke up in time to escape the sweep, and infiltrated Voyager in order to steal its advanced technology."
"You’ve been working for the Maquis!" cried Lieutenant Paris. "All that mutual hostility between you and Chakotay was a front. That’s why you were so reluctant to go back and rescue them from New Earth. Chakotay wanted to be stranded on that planet with Janeway. It was the only way he could get his leg over with her."
"That’s not true!" protested Chakotay, his wooden face struggling to express some outrage at this usurious accusation.
"In actuality, my dear Paris," said Data. "Tuvok had an accomplice, but it was not Commander Chakotay. I conducted a thorough examination of the scene of the crime and discovered traces of...photonic energy. I surmise that Tuvok is working in league with an evil, twisted holographic personality acting out of sexual rivalry."
Everyone began to edge away from the Doctor.
"How can you say that?" cried the alarmed EMH.
"Rudimentary my dear Doctor," said Data as he raised his hands. "It’s because the hologram in question is standing behind you pointing a phaser rifle at my head."
Everyone spun round. Standing by the holodeck doors was an evil-looking Cardassian woman armed with a compression phaser rifle. The Doctor’s mobile emitter was on her shoulder and an ‘H’ was stuck on her forehead.
"You don’t think a minor thing like death could stop me, did you?" snarled Seska. "I always think ahead. So in the event I was killed I had Tuvok create a hologram of myself. That Maquis mutiny exercise was just to explain my presence on the database. Needless to say, as is always the case in these situations, the holodeck safeties are off, communications are dead, Level Ten forcefields have been erected around our position, helm control has been compromised, Voyager’s main processor will no longer accept Janeway’s command access codes, and the replicators will only produce lukewarm coffee!"
"Well at least I know why security always sucks on this ship," said Janeway as she glared at the fake Tuvok.
"You didn’t really think a Vulcan would be best friends with an illogical, caffeine-addicted, instinct-driven short-arse like you, did you?" the imposter snapped back.
Seska gave her trademark scenery-chewing grin. "But don’t worry people, you’ll soon be arriving back at the Alpha Quadrant...through the wormhole in the Gamma Quadrant! There are Cardassian and Dominion scientists who’d love to get their hands on the latest Federation hardware, not to mention a pet Borg!"
"Then why did you attack Seven of Nine?" asked Data, knowing that for some strange reason the villain always has to reveal everything to the detective at the end.
Seska’s face went dark with rage. "Jealousy! I may be a hologram, but I still have emotions just like the Doctor. When I saw that blonde bimbo kissing Chakotay on the holodeck, it was more than I could stand. I knew that ‘let’s take off our clothes and copulate’ Borg wouldn’t settle for dinner and flirting like Janeway does!"
Data knew that their only option now was a desperate one. "Computer! Activate ‘Human Error’ flashback, and duplicate it!"
Suddenly the holodeck was filled with tens - no! - hundreds of holographic Chakotay’s, all radiating with A-koo-chee-mojo and tasting Seven’s cunni...sorry, culinary expertise, and above them all was heard the evil cackling laugh of Brannon Braga.
"AAAARRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!" cried the Voyager crew, going into immediate convulsions.
Data, the only one unaffected by the horrible sight, struggled through the mass of courting holograms and writhing Starfleet officers towards Seska. But the Cardassian agent was made of stronger stuff. Suppressing the urge to throw up she pointed her rifle at the oncoming android and prepared to blast him straight into Independence Day II.
In an instant Data realised he would not make it in time (as he also realised the answer to that annoying fractal equation that had been bugging him for the past 0.77609 of a second, added a new verse to his ‘Ode to My Cat Spot’, calculated the optimal plasma mix for Voyager’s warp engines, and dictated an extensive Last Will and Testament that among other things left his positronic brain to the Daystrom Institute, his personal effects to Geordi LaForge, and his fully functional artificial testicles to Ensign Harry Kim who, according to the Doctor, could ‘do with some balls’).
Just then the holodeck doors slid open and Seven of Nine staggered through, lurching determinably towards Seska despite her injuries. In an instant Data was forgotten. Seska swung her compression phaser rifle towards the hated Borg and let loose a blast of energy into her chest, seconds before Data politely beat the evil Cardassian spy into unconsciousness.
"Seven, no!" cried B’Elanna, scrambling over to the prostrate Borg. The others followed as soon as Data had permanently erased the ‘Human Error’ program from Voyager’s memory banks (but not, unfortunately, from the memory of hundreds of thousands of disappointed ‘shippers).
"It’s no good, she’s dying," said the Doctor, scanning the Borg with his tricorder. "If it weren’t for her previous injuries she might have had a chance. Most of the phaser blast was absorbed by her large breasts."
"Now...you know why the Collective...let me keep those...stupid things," gasped Seven.
"There’s only one thing that can save her now." Doc looked up at Janeway. "And only you can authorise it, Captain."
Janeway nodded grimly. "The reset button."
B’Elanna frowned. "What are you talking about? Computer, state purpose of the reset button."
"Voyager Reset button," announced the voice of Majel Barrett. "When the ship is severely damaged in an alien attack or a crewmember undergoes a life-changing experience, it resets everything to its normal parameters."
"So that’s how she does it," muttered Harry. He’d always wondered why he was stuck at the rank of ensign, not to mention where all those shuttles came from.
"Oh Seven," sobbed B’Elanna. "If the captain presses that button, nothing that happened in this fanfic will have any long term consequences. Oh love, our desire to have sex in turbolifts, all that will be gone."
"Love is irrelevant," said Seven, choking back her own tears. "It’s obvious that the troubles of two people aren’t worth a hill of beans in this crazy mixed up Quadrant, but darling, you’ll always have Tom Paris."
"Is that supposed to reassure me?"
"My work here is done," pronounced Data. "Now I must go. I am needed wherever people cry out for help. For instance I now have to save Captain Picard from another recycled evil clone plot in the next Star Trek movie." He vanished in a puff of photonic energy.
Janeway left the holodeck for her ready room where the reset button was located, leaving B’Elanna and Seven holding each other for one last time. Chakotay ran after her.
Gritting her teeth, Captain Janeway stepped into the turbolift. Chakotay quickly dived in after her before the doors closed. "Kathryn, I’m sorry! That Borg means nothing to me. I only did it to get more screen time."
Janeway’s eyes softened. "Oh Chuckles, it’s all my fault. If I’d come across for you none of this C/7 stuff would have happened. Over the years you’ve given me your friendship, your loyalty, your counsel. But now there’s only one thing I want from you."
"What is that, my darling?" Chakotay asked, moving deep inside her personal space.
Janeway shoved a mug at his chest.
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