• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

It wasn't enough. Fewer than thirty meters from salvation, the Doctor felt something hit him from behind. Sprawling forward, he cried out in instinctive panic. "Computer-terminate program!"

The next thing he knew, he was standing in an empty holodeck. The abendaar were gone. So were the Phaelonians.

He had failed to finish the program, he noted with regret. Or, perhaps more accurately, the program had succeeded in finishing him. And yet, he had been so close ...

Disgruntled, disappointed, the Doctor exited the holodeck. Yet another holiday experience had proven troublesome for him. Clearly, he told himself as he emerged into the corridor, he would have to rethink his approach.

JANEWAY SAT ACROSS THE BRIEFING ROOM TABLE FROM Lumas, flanked by Neelix and Tuvok. All she could think of was that the Caatati looked worse in person than on Voyager's viewscreen.

"Your transporter technology is amazing," Lumas told her.

"Only if you've never seen it before," the captain assured him. "But then," she said gently, "you didn't ask to see me to discuss technology."

The Caatati smiled a wan smile. "No," he agreed. "I didn't." He lowered his eyes, as if he had suddenly found some interesting detail in the surface of the table. "It is not easy for me to speak of this, Captain Janeway."

"Which is why you wished to speak in private," said the captain. "I understand."

Lumas took a breath and let it out. "There are over

two hundred people on our three ships alone," he began. "Every one of them suffers from malnourishment, to one degree or another."

"It must be difficult," Neelix observed.

"It is," said the Caatati. "But it's been hardest on the children. Every parent sacrifices for his or her child, but even so, there's not enough food. If you could hear the crying of the babies…" He shook his head. "You would have as much trouble sleeping at night as I do."

"Have you considered relocation to a planet?"

asked Tuvok. "One, perhaps, where you could grow your own food?"

Lumas gave him a withering look. "You speak as though such planets are easily found, Lieutenant. Believe me, they're not. And those that exist have already been claimed."

"Perhaps their occupants would be willing to share their resources with you," the Vulcan suggested reasonably. "In the same way that we shared our resources with Rahmin."

"You'd be surprised," said Lumas, "to find how unwelcome people can be when they've fallen on hard times. Because we have nothing of value, we're treated like vagrants ... even criminals."

"We're not unsympathetic," Janeway told him. "But Voyager isn't an entire planet-it's just a ship. We have limited supplies. We can't possibly provide enough for all your people."

Lumas looked around at the briefing room. He ran his fingers over the flawless surface of the table.

"Forgive me," he said, "but from my perspective, Captain, you live in the midst of luxury. You don't suffer from debilitating diseases. You have many energy sources, not to mention transporters and replicators. And your crew is wellfed." The Cataati leaned forward. "Apparently, keeping your bellies full is more important to you than helping those less fortunate."

Suddenly, his tone had become bitter. His mildmannered request had become an accusation. Janeway found she didn't care for the transformation.

"Wait just a second," Neelix interjected. "That's decidedly unfair. Captain Janeway is the most generous person you could ever hope to meet." He held his hands out in an appeal for reason. "But if we were to give supplies to everyone who asked ... we wouldn't have anything left."

Lumas's anger seemed to drain away. He shook his head in despair. "Of course not," he agreed. "It was unfair of me to suggest otherwise. You're just trying to survive ... as we are."

Janeway frowned. Then she turned to her chief cook and morale officer. "Neelix, how much food can we spare?"

The Talaxian shrugged. "We could provide each ship with several hundred kilogtams. It would alleviate their problem