Fade to Black

Kathryn Janeway personal log.

If someone were to ask me what I most feared on behalf of my crew, I'm not sure what I would have answered. The Borg Collective, perhaps, now - certainly not all Borg, for our Seven has been a fine addition to our little family. Once, the Vidiians - theirs was an oddly cruel tyranny.

What I wouldn't have thought of is exactly what has happened.

Plague.

It started far too innocently. Naomi Wildman and her mother appeared in Sickbay. Naomi complained of a headache, but the Doctor couldn't find a cause. Right now the child is in a coma, and fading fast. Ensign Wildman is headed that way. For her, it'll probably be a relief.

The virus - when the Doctor finally isolated it - turns out to be a particularly nasty little variation on the theme. It attacks the nervous system. Poor Naomi. She's just a child, still developing. The Doctor tells me that while he holds out hope for the rest of us... Naomi is to all purposes already dead.

I haven't let myself... feel, I suppose, since. It hurts too much. So far half the crew has been affected. Everyone has been tested. Almost all of us have been infected.

The Doctor, of course, is immune. Seven, too, is unaffected, but like the Doctor, she didn't travel to the planet where we picked up this disease. Everyone else in the entire damn crew took a shore leave rotation. The Doctor is working frantically to see if he can find a cure, or if Seven's nanoprobes are somehow protecting her from contracting the disease. And if so, if they can be adapted to save the crew.

End log.

Seven of Nine, daily log.

A disease has infected Voyager.

Had this happened a year ago, I do not think that it would have so strongly affected me. However, this crew matters to me, and so...

I don't know how to help. I do not wish to see Voyager die.

Naomi Wildman is dying. She was my friend. However, tests show that all higher brain function has ceased. It disturbs me to think that her life should be terminated so easily. As a Borg I knew that the weak and damaged should be destroyed. As a human, I can feel only anger that Naomi is dying.

Chief Medical Officer's log.

More cases of this virus are being reported every hour. Twenty-four crewmembers have slipped into comas. Naomi Wildman is dead. I do not yet know whether she is only the first of them all to be claimed by the virus. So far, I have made no progress towards a cure.

Seven of Nine entered the bridge and crossed immediately to the helm. She nodded to the fairly-vigorous Tuvok but avoided looking at Captain Janeway and the unhealthy pallor of her skin. No-one else was left on the bridge.

"Report, Seven," Janeway ordered. Seven didn't look around.

"Engineering is secure. 92 percent of the crew is now unable to perform its duties. The Doctor anticipates that most of those who have lapsed into coma will be dead within hours." Each word she said tonelessly. "He has made no progress on a cure." A tear trickled down her cheek. "You should go to Sickbay, captain."

Janeway shook her head. "The Doctor has enough patients, Seven." She rose weakly from her chair and walked across the deck to rest her hand on Seven's shoulder. "If I'm going to die, by God I'm going to die here."

Seven nodded, and didn't look up. Without another word she adjusted Voyager's course, and Janeway's hand fell from her shoulder as she stood again. "I should return to Engineering, captain," she said.

"Wait." Janeway closed her eyes briefly against the pain Seven knew she was experiencing. "Come into my ready room, Seven. I need to talk to you."

Seven walked at normal pace to Janeway's ready room, and had to force down a shudder as she realised how slowly the captain followed. Once she had crossed the distance, Janeway slumped to a couch. "Please, Seven, sit."

Hesitantly, Seven sat beside her. Janeway took her hand.

"Seven, I know this is hard on you. And... for as long as I can... I'd like to try and help you."

Seven trembled. "The crew is dying, captain. I am powerless to prevent it."

"Your job, Seven, is to keep this ship running while the Doctor finds a cure. Nothing more. And you are performing that task more than adequately."

Seven looked at her. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered.

Janeway squeezed her hand. "I'll always be with you in spirit, Seven. Even if..."

"Don't say it." Her voice was stark, and Janeway felt her pain more keenly than that of the sickness destroying her own body.

"We'll find a way, Seven."

"Yes, captain. And now I must return to Engineering."

Janeway watched as Seven gathered her self-control around her like a protective blanket and left the ready room, and sighed.

Kathryn Janeway personal log.

I'm worried about what will happen to Seven of Nine - and our EMH - if I and the rest of the crew of Voyager don't survive this. The death toll has reached thirteen, Neelix among them. He simply collapsed in the mess hall. The Doctor thinks it may have had a different effect on Talaxian physiology.

I'm encoding this log to be accessible by Seven of Nine upon my death. No melodramatic last words of a dying captain - just a goodbye.

Seven, I don't tell you this often enough, but you're a good officer. You've been a valuable addition to this crew, and what's more than that - you've been a good friend. We may have had our conflicts in the past, but I am proud to have had the chance to know you.

I'd like to think - and I'll certainly hope - that somehow, eventually, you'll make it home. Voyager won't be easy to take care of with just the two of you, but I have faith that you will manage for as long as you need to.

Good luck, Seven. My thoughts are with you.

Love, Kathryn.

Seven of Nine, daily log.

The crew of Voyager is no longer functioning. Other than the Doctor and myself, only Tuvok and Captain Janeway still live. While Tuvok, as a Vulcan, seems more resistant to the disease, Captain Janeway appears simply to be refusing to die. The Doctor holds little hope for her.

He appears to have been unable to process the deaths of the crew and his own failure to prevent them. His matrix is beginning to lose cohesion. I cannot repair him. Nor can I function alone.

I frequently visit Captain Janeway in Sickbay. Her vital signs are faltering, I know, and she can not survive much longer. I find myself... grieving. No other death has diminished me as much as I feel hers will. She has been my friend and mentor, but these words are insufficient.

Chief Medical Officer's log.

.........................................................................

Seven noted without surprise that the Doctor was missing. "Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram."

"That program is not functional."

"Cancel command." Seven walked across to where the corpse of Kathryn Janeway lay. The staring eyes offended her, and she gently closed them.

There. She could almost believe the captain was merely sleeping.

The ex-drone was exhausted with grief, and could feel only regret, now, that she could not follow her last wishes. "I cannot function alone," she whispered to the cold, pale face.

The ship's heading was set and confirmed, and all she had to do was wait. Her eyes and attention were locked on the captain, the blue giant star fast approaching all but forgotten.

The computer beeped for her attention. "Warning. Shield failure in sixty seconds."

"Warning. Shield failure in forty-five seconds."

"Warning. Shield failure in thirty seconds."

"Warning. Shield failure in fifteen seconds."

"Warning. Shield failure in ten seconds."

"Shields have failed."

"Warning. Hull temperature at critical."

"Warning. Structural integrity ha~~.............

- end -