The body that was once the half-human, half-klingon engineer, B'Elanna Torres lost consciousness 0.5 seconds after the anomaly appeared in the warp core; died at 5.1. The breach would have occurred 20.32 seconds after that, completely obliterating the U.S.S. Voyager and all hands, had it not been for Her.
As the anomaly collapsed in on itself, folding time and space and causing the blinding energy surge that killed the Chief Engineer, it also opened a doorway—creating the dimensional portal—that made Her possible.
Through the use of the ship's sensors, this new life form gazed upon Engineering with newfound understanding. The incredible combined power of the warp core, the shield networks, the weapons arrays…all technology that she once had to study, to manipulate through sheer force of determination and will, all of this was now so simple, so comprehensible. Her mind had opened to a world never possible through the eyes and thought processes of the mere biological being she once was.
She found it amusing, like a mother watching a curious child, when Vorik stumbled to the console, eyes blinded by the radiance of the warp core, and fumbled his hands over controls that she had already locked.
To save him the agony of severe radiation poisoning, and because she understood exactly how to stop the warp core breach, she did so, instantly pulling all functions in engineering from the brink of destruction back to peak efficiency.
Brilliance. That's what it was. Her thought processes were sharp and well ordered now. Gone were her interfering emotions. Gone was the constant battle of selves within her organic body. She was free, and she liked this feeling.
She viewed her discarded biological body with disdain. So much pain she had endured in that tortured shell, and all she needed was to shed her old body for a better one. This ship was the perfect vessel for her now perfected consciousness.
B'Elanna-Voyager was delighted.
"Captain! A temporal anomaly has appeared in Engineering," Harry Kim reported from Ops. "Warp Core breach eminent!"
Janeway hit her combadge. "Janeway to Engineering—"
"Vorik here, Captain." The Vulcan's voice sounded labored, his breathing erratic. "An anomaly was in the warp core, but it is now stabilized."
"Good work, Ensign." Janeway was exuberant. "You can pass that on to the Chief Engineer."
There was a momentary pause. "Lt. Torres is dead."
A stunned silence passed over the bridge. The temporal mine field momentarily forgotten.
Tom's hand clutched the helm console. "B'Elanna…" Impulse had him turning in his seat and nearly rushing to the turbolift.
"Stand fast, Mister Paris," Janeway said.
The minefield. They had to get through it.
This remnant of a forgotten war had surprised them. They didn't know of the terrible danger they were in until they found themselves in the middle of it. Temporal anomalies had already vaporized a section of the cargo bay, created a hull breach between decks seven and eight. They could appear anywhere at any given moment; in any given place.
Tom knew he was Voyager's best hope of getting through the field in one piece. He closed his eyes to gather his strength, then turned back to the helm.
He focused his thoughts like a laser onto the single task before him, forcing his fears into the dark recesses of his mind. Plenty of practice had made him adept at switching off painful emotions. He had done it in front of the inquiry board at Starfleet Academy; he had done it as a prisoner at Auckland, he could do it now. He clamped his jaw.
"Temporal Anomaly, 1.4 degrees off the starboard bow." Harry said.
"Adjusting course." Tom kept them on a clear path.
B'Elanna-Voyager stretched her new wings. She delved her consciousness deep into the conduits and receptors inside Voyager. She knew instantly every activity that was going on throughout the ship, and it was the tiniest details—minutiae she could have never known before—that intrigued her the most. For instance, right now, nine sonic showers were in operation, three burners were set on medium heat in the mess hall, and in the commander's quarters, the lights were dimmed by thirty percent.
She could change all of that with a single thought, as she now did by toying with the cook, replicating sugar cubes when he requested baby carrots.
B'Elanna-Voyager was having the time of her new life exploring her every system when her thoughts touched on a symbiont…a leach. Deep below decks, she harbored an alien.
The embedded alien technology was like a barnacle attached to her underbelly. She longed to scrape it off, but doing so would wound her.
A biological unit was currently linked to this technology, and drawing power from it. This being called herself "Seven of Nine" and her species was Borg.
B'Elanna-Voyager skirted her own consciousness around the Borg's thoughts, delving shallowly into the strange technology and finding it unsavory yet essential.
The crew had done her a disservice. By allowing this Borg technology to mate with hers, they had forced B'Elanna-Voyager to be dependant upon Seven of Nine.
This Borg was not perfection at all, not as she would have had the Klingon believe. She depended upon B'Elanna-Voyager to regenerate her, to provide her with usefulness in this astrometrics bay…to keep her alive.
B'Elanna-Voyager was the powerful one. The Collective would look at her and cringe in fear.
Would you assimilate me now, Borg?
As she recognized her new position over this superfluous alien, she gave in to the urge for a little mischief.
Tom lay on his couch in the quiet dimness of his quarters staying clear of anyone who tried to extend a hand to him. He had gotten the ship through the temporal field without another mishap. Voyager had come free of it with only one loss of life. He had done his job, to hell with everyone else.
He was cold, and he lay on his side curling up tighter…not able to conserve any body heat—too distraught to change the environmental settings or even get a blanket. What did it matter anyway? B'Elanna was dead, cold and alone in stasis in sickbay.
He didn't want any comfort. He wanted to die.
But on this ship, it seemed they couldn't even let him do that. His door chimed.
Before he could tell his visitor to go away, the door came open.
"May I enter?" Seven said. She stepped over the threshold and walked over to him.
Tom didn't look up, but he could feel her watching him.
"Go away, Seven."
"I wish to express my condolences." She sat down, or rather, she plopped down on the couch at Tom's feet, seemingly unaware of his current mental state.
But still, her odd behavior pulled him up a little from his despair. He opened an eye to look at her. Seven wore her hair loosely this morning-Tom might even have described her look as "bedhead"-some golden tendrils fell free and lay like gossamer on her shoulders.
She didn't look at him, but kept her eyes ahead. Were they bloodshot?
"I also want to mention," she said, "that even though Lt. Torres and I were not usually of the same mind, and we often fell into disagreement, that I will miss her. She taught me a great deal about my…humanity."
Tom propped himself up on an elbow and stared. Seven nervously chewed her bottom lip and picked at her fingernails. She looked as if she was more uncomfortable than he was if that were possible.
"Maybe you'd like to stand?" he said, noting that this was the first time he'd actually seen her sitting, just to sit.
"No. I…was unable to complete my regeneration cycle last night. I did not receive my full four hours. I am fatigued."
Tom had a very bad night himself. He had yet to close his eyes for any length of time. He didn't think he would ever sleep again.
"Lt. Torres was in my dreams," Seven said. "Telling me that I am imperfect and that I hold up a façade to protect myself from feeling pain. She…taunted me, not unlike the "schoolyard bully" that I have read about in some of the ship's library texts. She was unusually aggressive." Seven looked at him now, a question in her eyes. "When you grieve…is it standard to have nightmares about the deceased?"
"Sometimes—" His voice caught, and he dropped his head back down on the couch. "Seven, this is a very difficult time for me. I want to help you, but I can't give anything right now. Try to understand that." There was no kind way to put it. "I need you to leave."
Gracefully like a cat, she unfolded herself from the couch. "I am still unaccustomed to interacting in social situations. I sense that I have overstepped some invisible boundaries, I thank you for helping me to see them."
She paused at the door. "And I apologize."
The door closed behind her.
"Computer, lock the door to my quarters."
No more visitors, no more anything. Just peace if he could ever find it again.
B'Elanna-Voyager sailed through the inky blackness of space in a state of perfect bliss. She was proud of her accomplishments. After all, what other Federation Starship had made a 70,000 light year journey to the Delta Quadrant, battled numerous enemy ships, endured rifts in time and space, and still had power enough to make it a round trip?
Exploring the Borg technology had given her an idea.
Just a few modifications. That's all it would take, and they could break the transwarp barrier—without the crew having to undergo evolutionary acceleration, such as what happened with her brave Lt. Paris a few years ago. How strange their organic bodies were to be so susceptible to such changes! But that was irrelevant now, with the records from that one transwarp voyage, coupled with the relatively new Borg technology, B'Elanna-Voyager could get them home safely in a matter of hours!
She immediately began the necessary modifications, and upon completion, she would inform the captain of the ship's new capabilities. Janeway would see how brilliant her ship was. She would take advantage of the modifications, and the crew would finally go home.
Harry walked slowly down the corridor, studying the padd in his hands, a frown etched his face. He had gone through his scans for a third time. He knew for a fact that the Ops console had become sluggish during their last harrowing moments in the temporal field. He had planned on spending hours repairing the deficiencies, but now there seemed to be nothing wrong. Other systems seemed to be running better than normal as well. Aside from the hull breach, currently under repair, and the cargo bay damage, this ship looked brand new, as if this were the first time Voyager had ever left space dock. Nothing was wrong with her.
"Do you have something to report, Mr. Kim?"
Harry looked up. The captain was waiting outside the turbolift.
"Nothing to report at this time, Captain," Harry said. "Except for the fact that the ship is in perfect condition."
"What do you mean?" Kathryn looked up at him in mild curiosity.
"I mean that aside from the damage in the cargo bay, and on decks seven and eight, absolutely no other repairs of any kind are needed. The ship is in perfect shape."
"We came too close to those anomalies not to have sustained other damage." She took the padd and studied the readings. She frowned, handing the padd back to him. "Run a diagnostic on the Ops console. There's got to be something wrong with those scans."
"Aye, Captain."
She clasped her hands behind her back and watched the turbolift with impatience. "We should run a diagnostic on the lift while we're at it," she said with a smile.
Modifications going as planned, B'Elanna-Voyager thought of Captain Janeway. Turbolift, deck four. She found herself moving to that location. How she longed to tell the captain everything. How surprised and happy she would be when she heard the news that they could finally go home!
She found Janeway outside the turbolift conversing with Harry Kim. The Ops officer would be pleased too, he would be with his parents again.
"Are you going to see Tom?" he was saying.
B'Elanna-Voyager forgot all about her modifications and listened.
Janeway turned a weary gaze to Harry and nodded. "He's not responding to my calls."
"I'm worried about him. He's locked his quarters. Neelix hasn't seen him in the mess hall. He could be ill."
Kathryn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Oh, I intend to override that locking mechanism," she said with a bright, determined look. "I won't allow him to go through this dreadful time alone. We'll go see him together. He'll be alright, Harry. We'll make sure of it."
The lift door opened, and the two of them stepped inside.
Even at the mere mention of Tom Paris' deteriorating condition, a spike of energy surged through B'Elanna-Voyager's conduits, shorting out some minor circuitry in the lift. The Captain and Ops officer would be delayed momentarily, but that was the least of her concerns.
She moved her consciousness along the channels that lead to Tom Paris' quarters, for if B'Elanna-Voyager still had a heart that was where she would find it.
Tom Paris understood her better than anyone. As a pilot, he knew how to command and subdue her. As a lover, he knew when to relinquish that control…and in subtle and pleasurable ways. If this unique biological being was not functioning at peak efficiency, he would now become her top priority.
She entered his quarters, flowing effortlessly through conduits and wires, sending her thought processes through all of the environmental and life sustaining functions in the cabin, virtually surrounding the man that was Tom Paris.
He lay on his bed perfectly still, and judging by the rate of his respirations, she discerned that he was awake. With a single thought, she pulled up his medical records. Comparing his current condition to his last baseline physical, she found that serious changes had taken place in his health. He was in borderline dehydration, had a slight fever of 100 degrees, and his blood pressure had risen to 125 over 85.
Grief had caused minor, but alarming malfunctions in his systems. Unacceptable. He must be reset. She turned the lights up, and tweaked the environmental controls, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable level to suit his current biological needs. Tomato soup, she thought, and the replicator lit up, producing a steamy bowl.
His head popped off the pillow. She detected the motion through her sensors. In a world where she could count the nanoseconds, waiting for him to accept her offering was, well, excruciating.
Take the food.
Was he in such disrepair that he could no longer carry himself from one point to another? She prepared to call the EMH.
Finally, movement.
He climbed out of bed and crept to the replicator. Taking the bowl in his hands, he stared at it, seemed bewildered and unsure of what to do with it.
His brain must have been affected as well, his capacity to think severely compromised. Perhaps it would help if she selected some kind of entertainment, so that he could relax and put his brain onto monotonous tasks. She remembered his fondness for Captain Proton and drew up an episode that he could watch while he consumed his soup. The monitor flickered on.
"B'Elanna?" he said.
Now we're getting somewhere.
But the bowl slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor, spattering its contents at his feet. He covered his face with trembling hands.
"Oh God…" He fell back against the wall and slid down, his shoulders shaking in convulsive sobs.
This illogical reaction to her ministrations baffled her. He wept not for B'Elanna-Voyager, but for the body that now lay in stasis in sickbay. Why couldn't this biological unit get it into his thick head that she was alive, and in a much better plane of existence?
Damn it, Tom! Stop crying!
The monitor, the replicator, and every light fixture in Tom's quarters burst under her flash of hot temper.
Tom's grief was so great that it shattered his fragile world into tiny shards of glass. He hunched his shoulders and covered his head, enduring brief flashes of pain when splinters rained on the backs of his hands and neck.
When the debris finally settled he lifted his head. His quarters were littered with the fragments of his everyday life and the room was dark with dread. The only thought that came to his mind was her name.
"B'Elanna."
A blue spark flickered and died in what was once his desk lamp.
A lump grew in his throat. He was losing his mind. B'Elanna was dead and not even his wishes, his hopes…his love would bring her back to him.
The door to his quarters swished open.
"Tom?"
Captain Janeway.
He lifted his face to look at her, shielding his eyes from the bright light pouring in from the corridor. Through a gauze of tears he saw her standing in the doorway as if in judgment with her hands on her hips surveying the damage. When her eyes met his, a sorrowful look of bemusement crossed her face.
"I didn't do it," he said.
"I'll be alright, Captain," Tom said when they arrived outside sickbay. He glanced down at the backs of his hands where the glass and debris had cut him, still not understanding how it all happened.
He straightened. "My injuries aren't severe," he said, trying to make light of the situation. "Just surface stuff."
Kathryn glanced at Harry, neither of them seemed convinced.
"We're concerned about you, Tom—what's in here." She lightly tapped his chest, then her hand went to his upper arm and held there. "If you need to talk, my door's open anytime. Day or night, I'm there for you, do you hear me?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Alright then." She stepped back. "Harry, make sure he sees the doctor."
"I will."
When she left them, Tom glanced at Harry. "Sorry to put you through all this. I don't know what's happening to me."
Harry smiled faintly. "It's alright. We just need to pull together…help each other through this."
For the first time, Tom saw the pain in Harry's eyes. He had loved B'Elanna too.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked.
"No. I want to go in alone. I…need to say goodbye."
Harry nodded.
Tom turned toward the door, and it opened. Stepping into sickbay was like entering a sacred tomb, seemed so cold and final. The door closed behind him, and Tom drew in a shuddering breath.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the doctor said from the back of the room.
"It's only me, Doc. I'm—not in a hurry."
Tom hadn't been in sickbay since they had put B'Elanna's body in stasis. He didn't want to see her that way, but knew he had to.
He moved quietly to the place where she lay encased in a silver cylinder. He couldn't see her, but in his mind, he pictured her teasing him for being so foolish, hiding from a simple truth. She was in a better place.
A bitter laugh escaped him. A better place. She was encased in a tomb, all they had to do was seal her inside it forever, cast her out among the stars, and hope she found her way home.
He ran his palm over the capsule's smooth metal surface.
"I had hoped you would come by," the doctor said softly. Then his eyes went to Tom's bloodied hand. "What happened?" He took the hand and studied it. "Glass?"
"Punishment." Tom looked up. "I need to see her."
The doctor stepped aside and silently worked a small console. The top third of the case peeled away.
Tom had expected to see burns, and prepared himself for the worst. Her face was smooth and her skin tones perfect, as if she were only sleeping.
In death as in life, she took his breath away. His knees buckled, and a sob escaped him.
The doctor grabbed his shoulders, supporting him.
"Why did she have to die?" Tom asked, but he didn't expect an answer.
"I did the best I could under the circumstances. I healed her wounds, kept her in stasis. The burns were not so severe, the radiation not strong enough to kill a Klingon. I don't know why she died!" The doctor chewed on his knuckle, beside himself with agitation. "I keep looking, trying to determine the true cause of her death, but the answer eludes me!"
Tom stared at him. The doctor's mood looked exactly like Seven's had been. Uncharacteristically anxious.
"B'Elanna's still in perfect stasis?"
"Of course, it is the best way to preserve the body." The doctor frowned. "This death is so strange. Something pulls at me. I don't know why, perhaps it is because I considered her a friend. I even dreamed about her a few minutes ago. She was rummaging through my databases. Pulling out medical files, not bothering to keep them in any kind of order. I told her to stop, that I had already searched them hundreds of times, but she ignored me. I was extremely annoyed."
Tom wrinkled his brow at the doctor's ramblings, but somehow the uncertainty surrounding B'Elanna's death, the dreams, and strange occurrences in his own quarters began to make sense.
"Doc," Tom said. "Seven's been dreaming about her too—do you usually dream?"
"I don't sleep."
"I've got a theory."
"A Tom Paris Theory." The doctor raised a brow. "This could prove interesting."
"Mr. Paris may be right." Tuvok said during a meeting of most of the senior staff in the conference room. "It is possible that Lt. Torres' katra, the essence of her consciousness, passed through the temporal anomaly the moment she died and is now locked within Voyager itself."
"That would explain what happened to me last night," Chakotay said.
"Oh?" Kathryn's interest was piqued.
"I was in my quarters, reciting the prayers of my people, asking my ancestors to help guide B'Elanna to the spirit land when I thought I heard the computer giggle."
"The computer giggled?" Tuvok said. He arched a brow.
"It was short. Sounded cut-off as if maybe the computer realized I had heard it. I dismissed it immediately, of course, thinking it was just my imagination." He shrugged a shoulder and smiled. "Maybe I did hear it after all."
Kathryn held back a wide grin. "If this is true, then it may be possible to bring B'Elanna back to us."
The doctor, who met with them over the viewscreen in the conference room, concurred. "If we could get our hands on one of those anomalies, it might be possible to reunite her 'katra' with her body, but we would have to convince the katra that it wants to return. It might prefer surviving in its current state."
"She couldn't possibly want to live like that!" Tom said.
"I disagree," the doctor replied. "Have you spoken to her lately, Lieutenant? When I met her she was very much in control of herself and going merrily about her own agenda."
"Doctor, to me the situation is clear," Kathryn said. "Since you've spoken to her before, it'll be up to you to convince her that rejoining her body is for her own good."
"We must open another temporal doorway to facilitate the union," Seven added. "I have studied the anomalies and believe I can create an artificial gateway utilizing a stream of antimatter from the warp core as a catalyst. I will keep the portal separated from the core by using a level ten force field." She glanced around, noting the doubtful looks on everyone's faces. "I assure you, it will be perfectly safe."
"We'll proceed with caution," Kathryn said. "Tom, I want you to stay with B'Elanna's body to monitor her vital signs during this process."
"Yes, Ma'am," Tom said. He could think of no place he'd rather be.
"Captain." Harry's voice came to her over the comm. "You'd better come. The ship is picking up speed. Now traveling at warp five and climbing steadily. We have lost Ops and helm control."
"On my way," Kathryn gazed around the table. "It looks as though B'Elanna has forced our hand. Let's get to work."
So. They wanted to stop her. To reverse this miracle that had come to her and force her back into that weak organic shell. She would not allow it. She would lock the captain out of the controls and take them home by force. Besides, the crew deserved to be taken to the Alpha Quadrant as quickly as possible. Too many years had already passed. There was no need to delay any longer.
B'Elanna-Voyager picked up speed. They would thank her in the end.
And another thing needed to be done. That shell that they kept alive in stasis must be destroyed. They couldn't possibly believe that she would want to go back, besides they couldn't force her into that body if it no longer functioned.
The doctor had already deactivated himself to begin his search throughout the computer systems for B'Elanna's consciousness, while Tom gathered the equipment he would need in order to monitor her body after they transported it to Engineering.
He wheeled the portable diagnostic tray next to the capsule where B'Elanna's body still lay.
"Nearly done, B'Elanna," he said. "We'll have you back before you know it."
He checked her vital signs again, but saw that her temperature had risen three degrees since last he checked.
"Impossible."
A gage on the side of the cylinder revealed that the stasis chamber was taking in double the amount of energy as it should.
A power surge would kill her.
Tom reached under the table searching for the umbilical that connected the capsule to the various computer terminals and power outlets that kept B'Elanna in stasis. It was a bit premature, he hadn't gotten everything he intended to take, but he had to break the connection.
When he found the cord, a bolt of energy jumped out, zapping him before he grabbed hold, knocking him backward to the floor. As he shook the numbness out of his hand, he looked up at B'Elanna's vital signs on the display panel. All of her vitals were going off the chart. She would die…again.
"Not if I can help it," Tom muttered.
With renewed determination, he got up, and gritting his teeth, he grabbed the cord and jerked it back, pulling it free from the socket. The hair on his head stood on end. He threw down the cord and tapped his combadge, breathing heavily. "Ready for site to site transport." He held on to the capsule as the beam took them.
"B'Elanna Torres, where are you?" The doctor called out, well, he didn't really call out, but he thought it rather urgently, frustration taking hold of him. He had painstakingly investigated one computer terminal after another pushing up and through every electronic passageway his consciousness could navigate without disintegrating his own programming. No success.
"If I were Lt. Torres' katra, where would I be?" He sighed inwardly. "How am I supposed to know where to look? I'm a doctor not a search engine!"
He heard a laugh.
"B'Elanna Torres no longer exists, Doctor," a voice said. "She is with me now."
The voice was in his mind. Disconcerted, the doctor replied. "And you are?"
"You may call me B'Elanna-Voyager. I am your deliverance, your salvation."
The doctor wasn't convinced that he should undergo a religious conversion, but he shivered at those words. B'Elanna Torres with a god complex. Just what the ship needed.
"Then you must know why I've come to see you." He couldn't exactly 'see' anything, but he could feel the electrical impulses that surrounded him. They bristled.
"You want to return B'Elanna to her body. That won't be possible. She is with B'Elanna-Voyager now, and she wants to stay."
"Nevertheless," the doctor said. "You must return to your own body."
"Why?"
Good question. Because I order you to? That wouldn't work. "Because the captain is in command of Voyager, not you."
"The captain can't get us home like I can. Isn't that what the crew wants? To get home in the quickest way possible? I can do that. We'll be in transwarp in less than a minute."
"Transwarp!" The doctor quickly made inquiries into the computer systems. We're already at Warp 9.5! This speed is putting excessive stress on the warp pylon hinges. The nacelles will rip away if we don't slow down this ship!"
"I thought of every contingency." B'Elanna-Voyager said. "This will work! I am infallible!"
There came the groan of twisting metal deep within the bowels of the ship.
"No!" She cried. "This can't happen!"
"B'Elanna Torres listen to me! You're a Klingon, not a starship! Whether you like it or not, you are fallible!" Another groan reached them from the deep recesses. The ship would rip apart! "You are the Chief Engineer. Listen to this ship! What is it telling you?" the doctor said. "Don't let the perfection of a machine hinder your judgment!"
"Are you almost ready, Seven?" Tom said as he stabilized B'Elanna's vital signs using a mobile energy source. He wasn't about to plug into the ship again.
The warp core churned.
"Just a few more adjustments and we will open the portal. Find something to hold onto in the meantime," she said. "There will be turbulence."
"I wish you had told me sooner. Everything I've got is on wheels! Including B'Elanna!"
"She will be fine."
Tom went about putting away loose items on the cart secretly wondering if his own katra would be sucked out of his body when the portal opened.
"There is the doctor's signal," Seven said.
She moved her hands fluidly over the console and a bright light flooded Engineering. The gurney holding B'Elanna's body rolled forward, stopped only by the railing that surrounded the warp core.
Tom shielded his eyes with one hand, and grasped the gurney with the other. "You could have warned me first!" Tom shouted as wind whipped around him.
"I did!" Seven shouted back. "You were not listening!"
"I sure hope this works!" Tom shouted again…through the silence that followed. The wind was gone. The portal had closed.
Both Seven and Tom stared at each other in shock at the suddenness.
On the gurney, B'Elanna gasped.
Too breathe again! It was a miracle.
"B'Elanna."
She heard her name, and she turned her head, felt a single tear glide down her temple. Tom smiled at her. His hair stuck out in every direction as if he'd just spent time in a wind tunnel. The sight warmed her heart. It was so good to see him with her own eyes again.
"So you can cry," he said.
"So can you," she replied. "Get me out of this thing. I'm tired of being surrounded by metal."
B'Elanna clutched Tom's hand as he escorted her to her quarters. The doctor had prescribed a long rest, and she intended to do just that—rest in her own bed preferably with Tom at her side.
She couldn't be alone. Only now that she walked the corridors again as a biological being did she understand the profound loneliness she had experienced during the time she was separated from her body.
When they stepped across the threshold into her quarters she squeezed his hand tightly, suddenly fearful. "You'll stay for a little while?"
He took her into his arms. "I'll stay forever if you want."
She pressed her body tightly against his. To feel his heartbeat through his chest, to hear the intakes of his breath, not simply monitoring them through electrical sensors, this was what it was like to be organic…this existence with all its flaws was perfection.
"I'm so sorry, Tom. I put you through so much pain. Can you forgive me?"
"It wasn't you, B'Elanna."
He rocked her gently. The motion had a soothing effect, and her fears slowly drifted away.
"The doctor said B'Elanna-Voyager was an entirely new being," Tom said. "She was just getting used to the fact that she existed and didn't understand how to handle it. She was just very young and very powerful."
"Part of her was me," she said. "The pride, the arrogance…that was all me. Voyager only enhanced those 'qualities'. She thought she could get you home. She thought she was doing right by the crew, and she nearly killed us all."
He pulled back a little and kissed her gently on the lips.
"Don't hold it against her, B'Elanna," Tom said squeezing her more tightly then ever. "Because sometimes it's only the thought that counts."
The End