The Doctor watched as Seven took his holoemitter safely back to Earth.
"I'll feel better with it not up here." He admitted to Kim.
"I can understand that." Harry leaned forward a bit. "With all of the brass that's going to be running around here, it's going to be a mad house."
At that moment, the doors swished open to reveal Admiral Owen Paris standing in the corridor. "Good day, gentlemen." He stepped inside and looked around. "So, this is where all of those aliens were treated."
"Yes, sir." Harry pointed to the surgical bed where a forcefield could be put in place. "We had a Hirogen over there for a few days. Seven, while still Borg, was over on that biobed there. An invisible alien was over there. Actually, we had some aliens from the Demon planet masquerading as Tom and I behind that forcefield too." He paused. "Come to think of it, we had Neelix there for a few hours too.. right before he started a sing along."
The Doctor gave a snort of disgust. "That is one incident I'd prefer to not repeat."
Paris raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Do you have a data base of the information of these aliens who were treated?"
"It's been incorporated into our regular database." The Doctor stepped over to a console and tapped a few commands. "Computer, display records for Drickel of Alcawell."
Instantly, a visual representation of Drickel laying on the biobed came to the screen. Kim had never seen this alien-- he'd been getting into enough trouble on the planet. Now, he took the time to glance over the alien. Eight fingers, small pointed nose, smaller forehead, built as big and strong as a Klingon. Yep, he was normal of his people.
"You have a whole data base of this sort of thing?"
"Every alien we met. I have a visual representation and the person's name. If they were treated in sickbay, I also have information on their physiology."
"Good. Good." Paris wandered to the side. "We're going to set up more consoles over here so visitors can look up the information for themselves. We'll block off parts of sickbay and have dramas being played out. Stuff that's probably routine to you. Like saving the life of an alien."
"Restricted access on those consoles, I hope." The Doctor said. "Guests should not be able to access a patient's name. And certainly not any of my crew's records."
"Of course not any of Voyager's crew records. But we will include the alien's name. It's the best way to learn."
"By exploiting them?" The Doctor turned and jabbed a finger at his console. "Computer, display records for species Hirogen and Kazon-Ogla." As the data appeared, the Doctor continued. "Admiral, these two races here are bent on exploration. They will explore and take over. Having a circus show with them as the entertainers is not wise. When they finally do get here, they'll be angry." He glared at the admiral before muttering to Harry. "The Hirogens turned this place into one big holodeck once, now Starfleet wants to finish the task."
"You are only a hologram. You do not know what it is to run a museum and you're going to learn. Though, I can see that after being in charge of sickbay for over eight years, you've grown accustomed to having your way. I'm going to discuss it with the council to delete your program and run the EMH1 from square one. Brand new doctor who knows his duty-- provide a drama for the tourists."
The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, but the Admiral was already out the door and stalking down the corridors. Harry and the Doctor exchanged fearful glances.
"This is simply not the Lieutenant." The Doctor knocked on the forehead of Starfleet's newest hologram-- Lieutenant Tom Paris. "Hello? Lieutenant? Anyone in there? Anyone who's got anything to say?"
The Doctor turned with an exasperated look to Harry. "This hologram resembles the Lieutenant about as much as I do a Talaxian tomato." He cast a withering glance over his shoulder. "If anything, he resembles the Commander more."
Harry held back a snort of laughter. "They assure me they're working on it." He tried to comfort the Doctor.
"Computer, deactivate Paris, Lieutenant."
"Well, they need to do a better job." A light suddenly went on in the Doctor's eyes. "Ensign,..I mean Lieutenant, ..didn't you try to create a hologram of myself when you thought I was going to be lost in the message relay stations?"
"Well,..yeah....but that was....."
"A disaster. I know." At Harry's surprised glance, the Doctor added, "I do look into what files have been accessed in the medical facilities. The point is, if you could begin to create a double of each character, one that is more true to life, Starfleet would be forced to recognize your programming capabilities and allow you to create the rest of them."
"I don't know...Starfleet has pretty much taken over this whole project. They just want my face to guide people through it." Harry shifted as he tried to avoid the sticky situation. Starfleet would certainly not be pleased to learn he was counter-acting their actions. "I'd rather not get in trouble with their head people at this point."
"So, you're going to just sit by and watch them create characters like...like...like Paris!?"
Harry was never given the chance to answer as the doors to sickbay slid open and three admirals briskly strode in.
"Lieutenant Kim, I'd like you to meet Admirals Nimembeh and Baytree. Admirals, Lieutenant Kim. One of the survivors of the Voyager mission, and the tour guide for the museum." Owen Paris said taking a step towards the Doctor.
"You didn't accept that office job," Nimembeh gave a brief smile of approval as he referred to the job Harry had mentioned at his graduation ceremony, "I can see my work has paid off in you."
"Thank you, sir." Harry nodded quickly and then turned back to Paris.
"This is the hologram I mentioned." The Admiral walked slowly around the Doctor.
"I am not a piece of furniture to be put on display." The Doctor protested at their piercing gazes. "State the purpose of your being here."
"To determine if you shall remain as Voyager's chief medical officer or if we should reboot your program."
"Reboot my foot!" The Doctor angrily strode to his office, but turned around in the doorway. "I have faithfully served as Voyager's only medical officer for eight years. To reboot or delete me is to lose part of the ship. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." With a huff, the Doctor sat down at his desk and pulled his console towards him.
"Is he always like that?" Baytree asked.
Harry smiled. "Only when someone threatens his existence."
"Fine. Give this to him if you will." Paris handed Harry a padd. "See that his program is transported to holodeck seven tomorrow at 1400 hours. We're going to have a meeting with the council to debate whether he should be allowed to stay or not."
At promptly 1400 hours, the Doctor, Harry, and six other admirals met to discuss the fate of one holoprogram.
"The ship should be kept as intact as possible." Admiral Nenskiey murmured. "After all, we want to portray the journey as it was, not as we imagine it."
"That's another topic for discussion." Admiral Baytree protested. "There are those who want to make Voyager into a museum based on their imaginations of what it'd be like to be lost in space as opposed to what actually took place."
"Are you saying we should make this a museum without any excitement?" Admiral Paris demanded. "That'll sure bring the tourists in."
Harry had never seen anything like it. The six admirals spent the next ten minutes debating on what kind of a museum to have. He had always thought Starfleet was organized. But then again, even the most organized had differences of opinion once in awhile. When he thought they may finally get to the problem at hand, Admiral Levoriod stood.
"I know you want to know what will happen with your program, Doctor." Levoriod walked around the table. "I believe that all of us will be in agreement when we say that in order to portray the ship as it must be, we're going to turn off your program and integrate a newer version. This version will have your memories incorporated, but will also have another system added to make it a performer first, doctor second. This way, we'll have the added benefit of your knowledge, but the hologram will be able to complete the drama without losing his place."
"You mean Starfleet has just decided to turn my program off?" The Doctor rose indignantly.
"Yes." Admiral Paris stood up. "It will be retained in Voyager's data base, and if you're ever needed-- for instance, if a real emergency ever arose on the ship-- we could activate you."
"The decision has been made."
"I didn't get a chance to--"
"Dismissed." All six admirals turned and walked out of the door leaving Harry and the Doctor staring at one another.
"Well, of all the nerve." The Doctor fumed and then turned to Harry. "I'm still going to the wedding though."
"Are you sure I'm not routed through engineering?"
Harry checked the holoemitter once more for the Doctor. "Yep. You're rerouted through sickbay's emergency energy supply. They'd have to blow up the ship to shut you down."
"Ok. Then I am ready."
A few moments later, Harry and the Doctor materialized on the Janeway's front lawn. The green grass spread out down to the lane that ended about a mile away. Large pink blossoms drifted lazily in the breeze on the lattice fences and arcs. Crowds spilled from the house to the porch to the lawn. Everyone from Voyager had been invited, in addition to the families. And, it seemed that every inch of the lawn was nearly covered with cameras and news reporters. An admirals' wedding was apparently worthy of intergalactic coverage.
The new lieutenant turned to see Tom Paris running across the lawn at him. They collided in a bear hug and then quickly spilt apart with grins.
"How are you doing?" Tom slapped the Doctor on the back to which the hologram jumped slightly.
"I was better before you attempted to dislocate my shoulder." He answered.
"I can't dislocate your shoulder, you're a hologram."
"Unfortunately, your greetings aren't." The Doctor grumbled still rubbing his shoulder.
"What have you been up to, Tom?" Harry asked noticing that Tom was watching the guests arrive more than he was paying attention to the conversation.
"Not much of anything, really." Tom waved at Samantha Wildman and flashed a smile for a camera before turning back to the trio. "Just drifting really."
"How are you and B'Elanna?"
The older man's eyes instantly turned dark. "I don't want to talk about it. I think I see Tuvok over there. I'm going to go say hi to him." With a glare at Harry, he turned on his heel and stalked over to the Vulcan who was talking with Lieutenant Vorik.
"Sorry I asked." Harry muttered to himself.
An hour later, the Doctor stood from his white colored chair as Admiral Edward Janeway marched his daughter, Admiral Kathryn Janeway, down the aisle to her groom-- Commander Justin Tighe.
Her eyes seemed to linger on the row of senior officers more than any other row. Neelix grinned and nodded at her. His face beaming with happiness. Tuvok met her gaze straight and unwavering. Tom and Harry were next. Tom was beside an empty chair which he kept glancing at. Harry was grinning as wide as Neelix was. Seven sat beside Harry, though she kept edging away from him. Her dress was a light blue and she looked as though she felt out of place, but was pleased at the captain's marriage. The Doctor looked down at the chair directly to his right. Chakotay's. Janeway had been glancing furiously at that chair to see if it was occupied. The Doctor knew they cared for each other-- had since before New Earth. He was slightly surprised that the Commander had chosen to not attend the event.
"Do you, Commander Justin Tighe, take this woman to be your wedded wife? To have and to hold. To love and to cherish. In sickness and in health. For richer or for poorer. For better or worse. As long as you both shall live?"
Justin looked down at his bride. Kathryn's short hair rested just on her shoulders. The white veil was covering her face, but he could see down into her blue eyes pooled with tears and read the love she felt for him. "I do." He answered firmly.
"And do you, Admiral Kathryn Janeway, take this man to be your wedded husband? To have and to hold. To love and to cherish. In sickness and in health. For richer or for poorer. For better or worse. As long as you both shall live?"
Kathryn looked up into Justin's cobalt eyes. His jaw twitched slightly with emotions she saw emitting from his eyes. "I do." She answered huskily.
"The rings "Eease."
A small boy, Kathryn's nephew, stepped forward proudly. "Here they are! I knotted them on there for you so I wouldn't lose them!"
Everyone laughed gently as Justin worked to un-knot them. Determination spread over his features as he finally gave up and pulled the rings-- ribbons and all-- off the pillow.
"Repeat after me." The reverend smiled at the gold band with a white ribbon trailing from it.
Kathryn didn't hear the words as Justin slid the small band on her finger. She stared at his face, his moving lips, his teary eyes. And then moved her eyes down to their entwined hands.
"Kathryn, repeat after me."
It was her turn. She slid the gold band onto Justin's fourth finger and repeated the words the reverend told her to, but she didn't' hear them. Her eyes were locked with his still.
"Then, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may-"
The reverend shrugged with a smile as Justin and Kathryn beat him to it. Crewmembers of Voyager and family jumped up and were shouting and applauding as they continued to kiss. Finally, they broke apart to the gentle laughter of everyone around them.
"This seat taken?"
The Doctor and Seven broke off their conversation as Tom Paris set his plate down and joined them at the table.
"It is not." Seven replied taking a bite of potato salad and then wrinkling her nose. "This food is not replicated, correct?"
"Made from scratch, I heard the captain-- I mean admiral-- say." Harry took a heaping bite of the baked beans and then frowned. "I never could understand why some people refused to use replicators."
"Indeed." Tuvok took a hesitant sip of the iced tea. "Although, the beverage is not as austere to the taste buds."
Seven and Harry quickly reached for their glasses and took large gulps of the cool liquid.
The foursome looked up into the laughing eyes of Kathryn Janeway-Tighe. "Mother insisted that we have real food here. Though," She leaned down and whispered to her old shipmates with a glint in her eyes. "I did manage to sneak a whole table of replicated food in." She grinned at them. "It's at the very end of the desert buffet."
Harry's rear end nearly flew off the bench as he grabbed his plate. "No offense to your mother, Admiral, but after nearly eight years of replicated food...."
"Eight years? I would have hoped you would have tried some of my cooking in that length of time!" A plate dropped onto the table as Neelix, dressed in his usual colorful outfit, glared at Kim.
"It's ok, Mr. Kim." Neelix grinned at him suddenly and reached over to give him a quick hug. "I understand that a taste has to be developed for certain Delta Quadrant cuisine."
"Yeah." Harry mumbled and then scooted over to the buffet table of replicated food.
Kathryn squeezed herself onto the bench for a moment, her white gown taking up twice as much room as she normally would. "Has anyone seen Chakotay?" She inquired softly.
"I have not seen him nor Lieutenant Torres at this event." Tuvok replied.
The rest of the group agreed with nods of their heads and mouths full of tea.
Kathryn lowered her head and pretended to be studying the pattern on the table cloth. When she looked up, her lips were pressed together in a frown. "If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him and need to talk with him."
"I will be watching for him."
She nodded in thanks. "Well, you enjoy your meal. I've got to go greet more family and," Kathryn let out an over exaggerated sigh, "Reporters."
Everyone laughed (well, everyone except Seven and Tuvok), at her as she retreated to Justin's arm.
A long silence endured as the group continued to eat their food.
"Do you think she regrets her decision?" It was Harry who posed the question.
"Her decision?" Tuvok raised an eyebrow as he picked up the fork again.
"To marry Commander Tighe instead of Chakotay."
"The Captain is not a woman of regrets." Seven stated, meeting Harry's eyes cooly.
"I know what you mean." Tom plucked a pickle off of his plate. "She and Chakotay seemed to get along so well on the ship. It was like they were inseparable or something. When I saw that transmission, I honestly expected it was an invitation to their wedding instead of hers."
"I was not under the impression that the captain and commander were anything more than friends." Tuvok began setting his hamburger down. "Only that they created a well established command team and balanced each other well."
"Think of how well they could have balanced each other in a relationship." Tom smirked. "They were half in one without realizing it, I think."
"And what observations led to this conclusion?" Tuvok inquired.
Tom grinned out right as he wiped the butter and salt from the corn off his face. "Maybe their teasing?"
Harry nearly snorted his tea out his nose. "Like the on-going 'eloping' joke?"
"The one and only."
A small smile slipped over Seven's face. "But, if they were more than just friends, then why did the captain marry Tighe?"
"Maybe they didn't realize what the other means to them?" Neelix offered between bites of potato salad.
"I'll bet Chakotay knows" Harry jumped in. "And I'll bet that's why he didn't come."
"They would have made a better couple than her and this commander character." The Doctor stated.
"I concur." Seven stated simply. "Yet, it could be that we think like this because she and the commander were seen as a team for over eight years and they appeared to be suitably compatible for each other."
"Perhaps, something didn't work out between her and Chakotay." Neelix countered.
"Personally, I think this 'commander character' is all wrong for her." ." Tom said leaning forward to use a forkful of beans to point threateningly at Neelix. "Our first officer would have been a much better choice."
Plop-plop. Everyone did their best to hold in their laughter as-- much to the dismay of Tom Paris-- two beans slid off the end of his fork and hit the white table cloth. Splat. Plop. Splat. The rest of them fell.
Laughter bubbled out of Harry and Neelix, even Seven giggled. And Tuvok graced them all with a slight smile.
"There. That's the last subroutine." Harry picked up the microemitter and set it back in it's case. "I've got your entire program copied and hidden in the life support systems folders. Starfleet would have to open fourteen different programs to find it-- and that's if they chose the correct sublevels each time."
"Good." The Doctor looked up as Admiral Paris suddenly burst into Sickbay. "Can I help you, Admiral?"
Owen raised his chin slightly. "Computer, deactivate EMH."
Harry watched as the Doctor fizzled out of existence.
"Delete subroutines EMH1001 through EMH49K-alpha."
"Paris, Admiral Owen Q. Paris Beta-145."
Seconds ticked by. The computer whirled softly as Harry watched the display console delete the routines.