"Commander Tuvok?" The Pilot of the night shift turned to look at the Vulcan who was in charge. "I'm getting various emergency calls from all over the ship." With that he tapped at the console and various voices were played back for him.
"Help! Send a security team . . . Ensign Maloney is trying to . . ." another cut in, "Lieutenant Baker here . . ." the voice was gasping for breath, "I've cornered Ensign Jones in Shuttle shoot, OH SHOOT HELP!"
"I think we have heard enough, Ensign," Tuvok's eyebrow was in danger of separating from the skin.
"Shall I send out a security team?" The Ensign never understood how Vulcans could take things so well. He was as clueless about the matter as a Cardassian was about peace.
"Ensign Maloney is currently in charge of security," The Vulcan paused. "And I believe she is . . . busy."
Just then a sweat-drenched Paris rushed out of the turbolift, grasping at the railing for support, "Computer," he waited for the computer to beep its response. "Deny access to the Bridge to Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, authorization ParisAlpha654"
"Mr. Paris," the Vulcan turned towards the man. "Where did that authorization code come from?"
"The security breach in protocol is the least of our worries, Tuvok." Tom moved forward and stopped, his hands on his legs as he leaned over trying to get some blood to his head.
"Explain yourself," the Vulcan demanded.
"B'Elanna is a little too Klingon for my peace of mind, right now," he winced. "As I was . . . running here . . . well, let's just say it's madder than a Cadet's New Year's Celebration at the Academy out there."
"We have received countless other calls, similar to your own," he stated. "We should consult the Captain on our next course of action." He was about to move forward to get a biolock on the Captain's location when he stopped due to Mr. Paris' laughter. "What is so funny?" He asked stoically.
"Currently, the Captain's main mission is to lock onto Commander Chakotay," he smirked.
"Indeed . . ." The Vulcan cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow, once again, reaching for the Alpha Quadrant.
The entire Sickbay was filling to capacity with women who were either happily restrained by their 'conquests' or sedated with a hypospray. Chakotay stepped over one, then another and finally made it to where Kathryn sat happily on the biobed hitting at the doctor as he tried to move the hypospray into place.
"CAPTAIN, will you stop that!" He stammered, dodging her hands. "Commander, she's in love with you . . . so I suggest you do something to help her," he reprimanded, at his wits end.
With that Chakotay went over and snatched the hypospray out of the doctor's hand. "Once again, I must reiterate, 'I seem to have found myself on the voyage of the damned.'" But that was all he could say as he witnessed more lunacy when Chakotay pushed the Captain back down on the biobed and kissed her with passion. Thinking Chakotay was coming under the influence of it all as well, he was about to intervene before the hiss of a hypospray stopped him. He watched as the Captain gave a small, but thoroughly satisfied sigh before falling down asleep on the biobed.
"There," Chakotay turned to the doctor, who was speechless. The Commander's cheeks were flushed a deep red and he seemed out of breath and nervous before finishing, " . . . wasn't that hard to do."
"So I see," he watched the Commander go, before pondering further.
CONTINUED IN PART 8!
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