Chapter Text
Captain’s log, supplemental: We have successfully navigated around Krenim space. While I am glad that we were warned to stay away from the disputed area and have successfully avoided unnecessary conflict, I find myself ready to hear some good news. We are nearing the territories of the Famzani. By all accounts, they are a peaceful people, but they maintain strict border policies. I am hopeful we will gain access to their space and make up for the time we have lost. With only a week until we face Famzani border security, I have tasked Seven-of-Nine and Ensign Harry Kim with plotting our journey and discovering more about this alien race.
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Seven pointed at the screen in front of her. “Presuming we cannot gain permission to enter into species six-nine-two-four’s space, the shortest route will take an approximate two years, eight months, and 14 days longer than the shortest path through their territory.”
“Approximate?”
“Yes, Commander. I cannot take into account variables that I am unaware of, variables that we will no doubt encounter in our journey around species six-nine-two-four’s boundary should we fail to gain their trust.”
“Thank you, Seven,” the Captain said, cutting off the younger woman’s response to her first officer’s tongue-in-cheek comment before turning her attention to Harry. “Mr Kim?”
The operations officer cleared his throat before explaining that the Famzani are a culture heavily based on family structure. “They put family and children above everything else. If we want to travel through their space, we’re going to have to prove that we put the same value on family as they do.”
Janeway nodded, a small smile of relief pulling at her lips. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Voyager is a family, and we are travelling back to the Alpha Quadrant to be with our families.”
“I’m sorry, Captain, but from the information we have gathered, the Famzani wouldn’t count Voyager as being a family. They especially revere the bond between child and parents. The only child we have aboard is Naomi. They would expect to see a larger number of couples and children.” Harry looked down for a second, willing the blush that was warming his cheeks to fade. “The Famzani would also expect the commanding officers to have their children travelling with them.”
Janeway pressed small circles into her forehead. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. She looked around the briefing room table, pausing to take in each beloved face. She would not relegate them to another three years in space if she could help it, not if they could devise a solution. One that would admittedly require a significant amount of deception. She suddenly had the overwhelming desire to throw something heavy. Why couldn’t they be honest? Why couldn’t they be accepted and embraced by the cultures that they encountered?
“Captain.”
Janeway turned to look at Commander Chakotay. He was trying to hide his concern, but over the years, she’d become as familiar with the lines on his face as she was with the words of Dante. He was worried.
“If we are to prove to the Famzani that we are a multigenerational ship and have embraced family like they have in their culture, we have to demonstrate that we have children on board. But we can’t risk Naomi’s safety, even if it’s just a matter of showing the officials over the viewscreen that we do have a child with us. We need to come up with a plan that demonstrates our adherence to the values of family that doesn’t involve her.” He paused, seeking clarification. “You do want to find a way to cut through the Famzani space?”
Janeway nodded and turned to the others. “Ideas?”
“Why don’t we use one of the youngest crewmen?” Paris suggested.
“Explain.”
“The Doc could make them look a little younger. That way, when we encounter the Famzani, you can say they’re your kid.”
Kathryn felt her stomach lurch but fought to keep her face neutral.
Beside her, Chakotay nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Your idea has merit, Tom.” He turned to look at Ensign Kim. “What do you say, Harry? Want to be the Captain’s son?”
Harry opened and closed his mouth, unable to produce any coherent sounds.
The Doctor spoke up while Harry continued to flounder. “I can do it.”
The room turned to stare incredulously at the balding man.
“No offence, Doctor,” said B’Elanna, “but have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“No, no. I can change my interface – make myself look like a child, but still have all the knowledge of a Starfleet officer. We are only talking about a brief appearance to prove that children are onboard Voyager, after all.”
Kathryn and Chakotay looked uncomfortably at each other.
B’Elanna appeared thoughtful. She ran a hand across her chin before turning to the Captain. “It could work.”
Pursing her lips, Janeway nodded. “Okay, do it. But Doctor?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“You’ve got a trial period. As we finish our approach toward Famzani space, you need to prove that you can pass as a child, that you won’t call the Commander or I by our names or ranks, and,” she paused, pinning the holographic man down with her eyes, “in case they ask, you need to have a suitable name on hand.”
The Doctor blanched. “Yes, Captain.”
When the meeting had adjourned, the Commander turned to Janeway. “You’re including me in this?”
“You think I’m going to do this by myself? No such luck, Commander. If the Doctor has to call me, ‘Mom,’ then you can be sure he’s going to call you, ‘Dad,’ as well. Besides, it’ll look better to the Famzani if we both have kids, and we only have one holographic doctor.”
Patting his arm, she left the room. Chakotay chuckled to himself and shook his head before following her out onto the bridge.
Later, when he handed her a coffee in her ready room, he said, “Kathryn, this is a terrible idea.”
“You’re probably right, but we have to give him a chance. While he’s working that out, maybe we’ll come up with a better solution.”
Chakotay smiled softly at her, his mind turning to other things. “Join me for dinner?” He asked.
Sipping her favourite beverage, Kathryn smiled. She placed the cup down on her desk and nodded. “My quarters. I’ll provide the drinks; you make the food.”
Chakotay chuckled and held out his hand for her to shake. She rolled her eyes and reached for his hand with her own.
“It’s a deal.”
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B’Elanna made the final touch to the interface parameters of the Doctor’s programme. “You ready?” She asked.
Beside her, the Doctor fisted his hands nervously before nodding.
Torres flashed him a smile and pressed the button. She watched as the middle-aged medical examiner shimmered and shifted in shape, shrinking until his head was equal with her stomach. As quickly as it had begun, the Doctor solidified, once again appearing human.
The Doctor looked up at her through bright eyes. “Everything is so big!” He squeaked. A small hand flew to his throat. “Something’s wrong with my voice!”
B’Elanna chuckled. “Nothing’s wrong with your voice. You just sound like a little kid.”
The Doctor frowned.
“Are you going to take a look?”
Together, they moved to the other side of sickbay towards the mirror they had set up earlier. Entranced, the Doctor moved closer, examining himself in the reflective surface. His brown eyes peeked out from behind shaggy dark hair as they flicked from one feature to another. Raising his hand, he carefully touched the scattering of freckles that spotted his face, standing out against softly tanned skin that suggested he’d been playing outside all summer. His fingers then moved to tug lightly at the thick mop that adorned his head. He grinned, small teeth flashing white in the light.
“What do you think?”
The Doctor turned around and eyed the young woman thoughtfully. “Perfectly adequate. I make a fine boy, wouldn’t you say?”
Torres laughed and ruffled the Doctor’s hair. He screwed up his face.
“I’ll see you later, Doctor. Call if you need help reaching a shelf!”
The holographic doctor poked his tongue out at B’Elanna’s retreating form. Realising what he’d just done, he giggled to himself. He would have fun with this. Spinning on his heel, he turned back to assess his sickbay as he hummed softly.
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The senior staff were chatting amicably amongst themselves when the Doctor strolled in. On seeing the small form of a pre-pubescent schoolboy, everyone struggled to contain their grins.
“Doctor! You look wonderful,” exclaimed Neelix.
The Doctor beamed up at him and moved toward his seat.
The giggles and smirks the crew were valiantly trying to suppress could no longer be contained as the Doctor tried to scramble up onto the seat. After a few tries, he managed to haul himself up and join the others at the table. His frown deepened when he realised that he couldn’t see the others clearly, hindered as he was by his height.
Shuffling himself around, he pulled his legs up underneath him and sat on his knees. Now able to see, he placed his hands on the smooth surface in front of him, waiting expectantly for the briefing to commence.
“I’m glad you could join us, Doctor. I see you and Lieutenant Torres were successful.”
“Yes, it was a relatively simple process.”
Janeway glanced away, failing to hide her smile at the adorable nature of his new vocal subroutines. Beside her, Chakotay ducked his head, his dimples creasing his cheeks.
Lifting his chin defiantly, the Doctor folded his hands together and asked, “Well, are we going to begin?”
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B’Elanna was only half listening to Tom and Harry’s conversation as she ate her dinner. Her eyes flicked up from the padd in her hand to scan the mess hall before returning to her engineering report. She’d only got a few sentences further when Tom’s voice rose in excitement as he described his shift in sickbay.
“…so I asked him why he doesn’t wear a lab coat when he’s doing experiments.” Tom grinned at Harry before taking a bite of his food. Around his mouthful, Paris continued, “His frown was so adorable! I don’t think I’m ever going to take him seriously again.” He swallowed. “Anyway, the Doc tells me that he does. So, I’m like, ‘Then why aren’t you wearing it now?’ Of course, he huffed and puffed but didn’t say anything. I thought he’d decided to ignore me, so I finished doing the inventory.”
Tom held out his spoon and pointed it at Harry while he chuckled to himself. “Guess what I saw when I turned around?”
Before Kim could guess, B’Elanna interrupted. “Hurry up, Tom. Some of us would like to eat in peace.”
“Aw, come on, B’Elanna. It’s a good story!”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, “tell us.”
“He had the coat on!” Paris laughed, his shoulders shaking as he hunched over.
Harry frowned. “I don’t get it.”
Tom struggled to catch his breath and explained, “The coat wasn’t programmed for his new body. He looked like he was drowning in it. Every two seconds, he was pushing up the sleeves and dragging them through his samples!”
Torres rolled her eyes and turned her back on the two men. There had to be an empty spot in the mess hall. She usually enjoyed spending time with her two friends, but tonight she had work to catch up on, and it wasn’t going to get done next to Tom and Harry. She was about to rise and stand when she saw the Doctor trot into the room. She frowned. What was he doing here?
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“Doctor! We don’t see you here often!” Neelix exclaimed as he watched the EMH move toward him.
Little hands gripped the edge of the bench as the Doctor rose on his toes to look over it. “I have a problem!”
“Come in here. I know I’ve got a stool somewhere,” Neelix said as he bustled about the galley looking for the stool he was saving for when Naomi was bigger. The Talaxian was sure the little girl would love helping out in the kitchen.
Once the Doctor was situated and watching Neelix stir the large pot of bubbling blue liquid, the chef asked him, “What’s the problem? How can I help?”
“You’re imaginative. The Captain requires me to choose my own name. I can’t do it! Every time I think I’ve got the right one, I decide I don’t like it. I’ve come to request that you choose one for me.”
Neelix stopped stirring the soup and contemplated the small body beside him. Dozens of names clamoured for attention in his mind, demanding to be the one that was chosen, but he brushed them aside. Patting the Doctor on the shoulder, he smiled sadly at him.
“No, I can’t,” he said.
The Doctor spluttered, his voice morphing into a pleading whine. “But you have to!”
“You can come up with your own name.” Neelix’s smile broadened into a happy one. “It’s only temporary after all! If you don’t like it, you can change it or go back to ‘Doctor’.”
“Temporary?”
Neelix nodded and stirred his thick blue soup once more. “The name is just for this mission, isn’t it?”
The EMH grinned. Jumping off the stool, he thanked the Delta Quadrant native as he rushed out of the mess hall.
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Seven-of-Nine walked in to see her mentor, in his new small form, standing on a three-step stool as he ran a dermal regenerator over a patient’s arm. He looked up from his work and flashed her a smile.
“Seven! Take a seat. I’m almost done. I won’t be a moment.”
Seven watched the Doctor as he gave some last-minute advice to the engineer before turning his attention to her. He was still the same old Doctor, but something seemed different about him now that he was freckle-faced and shaggy-haired. It was odd to see him as a child. She didn’t understand it.
The Doctor pulled her out of her contemplation as he tried to leap up onto the biobed she was sitting on. He placed his palms on the bed’s surface and jumped only to find himself laying face down on the material that covered its surface, his legs and feet kicking empty air as he tried to pull the rest of his body onto the bed.
Staring at him in bewilderment, Seven reached out and grabbed the back of his uniform, helping him to swing his legs up and behind him. Once his whole body was in one place, the EMH wiggled around, getting to his knees and brushing back his hair.
“Thank you, Seven,” he said before shuffling closer and running a diagnostic tool over her optical implant.
As he worked, the former-Borg sat in silence until a question invaded her mind. “What is it like to be a child, Doctor?”
The medical officer paused what he was doing and looked at her curiously. “You would know better than I, Seven. I only look like a child. I’m not a child, nor have I ever been.”
Seven’s eyes flicked down to where her hands were clasped in her lap. “I was young when I was assimilated, Doctor,” she said in an unusual moment of vulnerability. “There is not much I remember about that time.”
Moving to sit beside her and dangle his legs over the edge of the bed, the Doctor’s lips bunched together sadly. “You’re right. Neither of us got to experience a childhood. One day we just opened our eyes in this sickbay and were expected to be experienced adults.”
When Seven didn’t respond, the Doctor tried to steer the conversation onto safer waters. Unfortunately, the only thing on his mind was one question: What was he going to call himself when he met with the Captain and Commander later that day?
“If you could have any name, what would it be?” He asked eventually.
Seven looked at him quizzically. “My designation is Seven-of-Nine. There is no need for me to alter this.”
“No, I mean, if you could choose any name, what would you choose?”
“I do not understand the reasoning behind this question.”
The Doctor smiled sheepishly. “I still haven’t picked a name yet.”
“And you thought you would take mine?”
“No! No. I was curious to hear what you would choose and why, but I wouldn’t have taken your name, Seven.”
Seven thought for a moment, her eyes looking unseeing before her. “The series your hologram programme belongs to has a model number, does it not? Is that not your designation?”
“I can’t choose a number for a name!”
Pushing herself off the bed, Seven glanced at him, hurt hiding in the depths of her eyes.
“Of course, it suits you,” the Doctor scrambled to say. “Perhaps I should give it some thought.”
The young woman nodded brusquely and strode out of the room.
The Doctor swallowed a groan. Only a few more hours, and he’d have to present a name to the people who would be masquerading as his parents. He almost wished a medical emergency would come up so that he could avoid telling them he had nothing. And now he’d upset Seven. Could his day get any worse?
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“Don’t you find it just a little bit odd to see the Doctor running around the ship in a child’s body?” Chakotay asked as he and the Captain walked the corridors toward the holodeck. They had decided to kill two birds with one stone and check the school holodeck programme Tom, Harry, and Seven had been working on while giving the Doctor a final test of his new interface. Chakotay was particularly interested in seeing if the EMH could go the whole time without mentioning ranks or names.
“I was a little surprised when I first saw him treating one of the engineers’ wounds, but I think he’s managing quite well.” Janeway shrugged before continuing, “And soon enough, Naomi will be running around. We might as well get used to a child in the corridors now.”
“I wonder if more will join her,” Chakotay mused to himself.
Janeway was saved from responding when the Doctor waved to them from his position next to holodeck two.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” he said.
Kathryn stumbled as the words left the Doctor’s mouth. Shooting out a hand to steady her, Chakotay glanced down to assure himself that she was okay.
Despite the awkwardness and shock of the EMH addressing them as mom and dad, their time together was successful. The newest holodeck programme boasted a bustling schoolroom filled with children of various ages and species and an adjoining nursery for infants and those not ready for formal schooling. After checking in with Kim and Tuvok to confirm that sensors would read the holographic forms as living beings, Janeway and Chakotay signed off on the success of their subordinates’ collaboration.
“That leaves just one more detail to sort out,” said Janeway.
“What’s that?” Chakotay asked with a cheeky smile.
“The small matter of someone’s name,” she smiled back.
The Doctor’s eyes bugged open. He twisted his hands together in front of him.
“Have you decided on a name?” asked the Captain.
The EMH nodded. Clearing his throat, he said with as much conviction as he could muster, “Mark Neo Janeway.”
Chakotay felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and time itself had stopped. Rousing himself out of his state of shock, he turned to look at Kathryn. Her face was as cold and impassive as marble. A flare of pain and horror shot through his body. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, pull her to himself, and reassure her that it was okay to cry, okay to mourn. Despite the lack of emotion on her face, or perhaps because of it, he could tell that her heart was shattering.
The air rushed back into the room when after an inordinate amount of time, Kathryn sucked in a large breath. Without a second glance at either of them, she called for the arch and left the holodeck in the fastest pace short of running she could muster.
Two pairs of dark eyes watched her leave.
“Was it something I said?” The Doctor squeaked, his young voice carrying the hurt more than his adult form would. “I don’t have to say ‘Janeway’. I thought it would help the Famzani believe that I am her son. I can change it.”
Chakotay looked down at the Doctor sadly. “I’m sorry,” he said, “But I don’t think this is going to work.”
“But…”
The Commander shook his head. “Perhaps it’s for the best if we find a different solution.” Patting his companion’s small shoulder, Chakotay took his leave and went in search of his distraught friend. On his way, he contacted Paris.
“Tom, we need another solution.”
“What happened?” The pilot asked.
“It’s a long story. I need to you find an alternative to the Doctor’s plan. Use whoever you need to make it happen.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Tom?”
“Yes?”
“Make sure you involve the Doctor in the planning. He’s going to take this hard, so make sure he’s included in whatever process you come up with.”
“Aye, Commander.”