"24601"
By Monika Reichelt (monika@fantastikspiele.de)
Stardate 200201.18
Synopsis:
Some kind of AU; As dreaded for so long Wesley Crusher actually appears on
Voyager during the late 7th Season and might be able to help them
get home.
But before he has to set some things straight with Tom Paris...
Author's note:
This whole story is based solely on the fact that the photo on Admiral Paris'
desk in "Pathfinder" showed Nick Locarno, and the assumption that Nick is
actually Tom.
I thought it might be interesting to see things that way and finally finish
what began in "The First Duty".
Oh, and English is not my native language (I'm German), so
please have mercy...
Thanks to Christian Erdmann for helping me find the conclusion
and to Katrin, Jacen and Anika for their support.
Disclaimer:
Star Trek: Voyager and Star Trek: The Next Generation and all their
characters belong to Paramount Pictures, a Viacom company.
"Les Misérables" was composed by Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg
and is probably owned by them and/or the appropriate record company (which I
do not know).
This story is not intended as any violation to any existing copyrights and
licenses.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Seven of Nine opened her eyes as the regeneration cycle ended and the little
lights that indicated the current mode of the Borg alcove flicked back to
normal.
She stepped out into the cargo bay, which was as well-lit and tidy as it
always was, and paused a moment to check the exact time.
She had set her alcove to end the cycle a little earlier than usual and now
had half an hour of spare time left before her shift was due.
She could still not believe what she was about to do right now - and, even
worse, that she actually enjoyed doing it.
Otherwise she was sure that Tom Paris could not have persuaded her, try as
he might, and he was usually really good at that.
So in this case it seemed as if the Doctor was right, that this interest
had truly turned into a hobby.
Seven straightened her back as she addressed the ship's computer.
"Computer, seal the entrance of Cargo Bay 2. No access to it for anybody
during the next 20 minutes."
The computer confirmed, and she swallowed once.
"Now run soundfile 'LM 1-4', instrumental only."
She waited for the computer to carry out her command and the music to start,
then began singing.
"I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth
living..."
***
"That's strange.", Harry Kim mused, keeping his eyes fixed on the console in
front of him.
He raised his voice.
"Captain, I'm registering some sort of energy field, 80.000 km off our
tarboard hull. I swear it hasn't been there a minute ago."
Captain Janeway rose from her chair and took a few steps toward the main
screen.
"Put it on screen, Ensign."
The picture changed from the drifting stars before them to a small globe- like
object, glowing intensely and seemingly moving toward them.
"A comet?", Tom Paris presumed.
"Unlikely.", Tuvok interrupted, before Harry Kim could give any sort of
reply. "It looks more like some kind of subspace disturbance. I strongly
suggest defensive measures."
"Whatever it is, it's coming closer.", Harry announced, and the Captain
decided to intervene.
"Could it be a ship?"
Harry checked the readings again.
"No, Captain, definitely not." He seemed perplexed. "It's organic! I don't
know how..."
"Try to hail it."
He did so.
"No response. And it's still moving towards us."
"Red alert. Full shields. Tom, get us away from here."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The conn officer went to work and the strange object fell back, but their
relief was short-lived.
"It's keeping up."
"Still coming closer." Harry's voice was tense. "20.000 km and closing,
18.000..."
Tom was abruptly changing course several times.
"I can't shake it!"
"It's almost here. Impact in 10 seconds."
Janeway went hastily back to her seat, while Harry counted down the seconds.
When he reached zero they all grabbed whatever hold was in their reach...
And nothing happened - except for a young man who suddenly appeared out of
thin air.
He seemed to be human and in his late twenties or early thirties, with short
dark hair and a youthful face dominated by large brown eyes.
It all happened in the same fraction of a second: Tuvok announcing an
intruder alert and ordering a security team to the bridge, the stranger
greeting the Captain and beginning an explanation, and Tom turning around in
his chair, staring at the intruder and stammering a slack-jawed and
disbelieving
"WESLEY???!!!"
Wesley Crusher had obviously not noticed him before.
"Nick? What are you doing here? I thought they had kicked you out!"
Janeway looked somewhere betweem angry and surprised and her gaze alternated
between Tom and Wesley as she addressed both of them: "You know each other?"
"Yes.", Wesley admitted, suddenly looking tired, while Tom nodded grudgily.
"Then would you both please join me in my Ready Room?", Janeway suggested,
gesturing towards the door.
"Tuvok, you have the bridge."
She sat down behind her desk, looking inquisitively at their visitor.
"So, you said, you were coming from where, Mr. ..."
"Crusher, Wesley Crusher. I was born on Earth and spent my youth on the USS
Enterprise NCC 1701-D, commanded by Captain Picard.
I studied at the Starfleet Academy. We were members of the same flight
squadron."
He nodded in Tom's direction.
Janeway had her eyes fixed on him.
"Are you human?"
Wesley hesitated for a second.
"Originally yes. A few years ago I met the Traveller, a partly energetic
alien being capable of travelling through space all by his own and
possessing great knowledge about drive systems and interstellar travel.
He bestowed some of his abilities upon me.
I came here because I was curious about what a Federation vessel was doing
this far out in the Delta Quadrant and I wanted to ask if I might be of any
help."
Tom snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Both Wesley and the Captain turned to face him.
Wesley continued, talking to Janeway, but watching Tom.
"I apologize for not announcing my arrival beforehand, Captain. I'm
afraid I don't have any means of communication while travelling.
I only wish I had known sooner that Nick was aboard your ship."
"My name's Tom.", Paris corrected, and stepped closer.
"I attended the academy under the name of Nick Locarno.", he explained to
Janeway's questioning look,
"It was my father's idea. He didn't want the teachers to be biased, because
I was a member of the oh-so-famous Paris family."
He snorted again.
"So we decided to let me study using an alias. I wasn't allowed to tell
anybody. The teachers and my fellow students were supposed to learn the
truth upon my graduation,",
he shot a sideward glance at Wesley,
"which I didn't get to experience."
His voice had a surly undertone to it.
"I assume, Mr. Crusher, you were present at the infamous accident?"
"As I said, Captain, we were both members of Nova Squad at that time.
He was in command of it."
"I think I'm beginning to remember now. Weren't you the one to
finally tell the truth to the jury?"
"Yeah, he was.", Tom growled, "Right after the sentence had been pronounced,
Mr. Perfect Starfleet Officer To Be had to stand up and spoil it all."
"Because what we were doing was wrong!", Wesley erupted.
"What we had done before had been wrong in the first place. Someone had to
say something about it!"
"I know that, too! But you could have done it a little bit sooner, couldn't
you? Oh, I forgot. You always had to be that one righteous soldier who
stabbed his treacherous comrades in the back."
A sarcastic grin appeared around the corners of Tom's mouth.
"That's not true, and you know itt!", Wesley shot back. "I was just doing
what my conscience told me."
"Your conscience or your precious Captain Picard?"
"Tom, that's enough!", Janeway intervened, putting all the authority she
could muster into her voice.
She let the silence settle for a moment.
"Mr. Crusher, I am indeed grateful to you, and I gladly accept your offer to
help Voyager get home - if you are still inclined to help us."
He nodded slowly.
"I'm calling in a Senior Staff meeting at 1900 today in which we will
discuss the exact means of this help.
In the meantime I'd like you to familiarize with Voyager and the crew.
I'm going to have your quarters prepared right away."
She sighed and turned to face Tom.
"As for you, Mr. Paris, I suggest you settle this dispute once and for all,
for the sake of our safe homecoming. Mr. Crusher is our guest and to be
treated as one. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am.", he said, his voice barely audible.
Janeway decided to leave it at that.
"All right then. Dismissed."
***
"Without him the world around me changes. The trees are bare and everywhere
the streets are full of strangers. I love him, but every day I'm learning..."
B'Elanna's singing was interrupted by the door of the quarters
she shared with Tom opening and her husband storming in and slumping himself
into the nearest armchair.
She could see at first glance that he was as far as possible
from being in a good mood.
She left the music to itself and went closer to where he sat
silently brooding, looking at nothing in particular.
"You're in the mood for telling me what's happened?" she said as softly as
she could manage.
This was one of the few occasions when he was apparently as likely to explode
as she usually was.
"He's here."
"Who?"
"Wesley Crusher." He was still not looking up at her.
B'Elanna didn't understand.
"Tom, who is Wesley Crusher, and why is he here?"
He finally turned to face her, still looking angry, but as far as she could
tell fortunately not at her.
"Wesley Crusher was one of the cadets in Nova Squad, the one who told the
truth about the accident, which led to my exclusion from the academy.
You two must have been in the same year.", he added after a brief pause.
She thought hard, but obviously could not fit him in.
"I don't know. I left early, you know. And I wasn't really good at making
friends. It might be."
She made a vague gesture.
"Anyway, what is he doing here?"
Tom snorted.
"He has become some kind of superhero, who can travel through space all by
himself, and he 'wondered what we were doing here and if he might be of any
help'. Pah! As if this precocious litte know-it-all hadn't already saved the
galaxy often enough..."
B'Elanna looked at him with the most serious expression.
"You're not saying he's capable of bringing us home, are you?!"
"Of course he is!"
Tom stood and started pacing the room.
"He's the best engineer I've ever encountered - okay, the second best."
He managed a small smile in her direction.
"In any case he's brilliant. If anyone can bring us home, he can."
"Then what's wrong with that? Why are you so angry at him?"
"Because he... he..." Tom was searching for the right words. "I don't think
he wants to do it for us. He was never the altruistic type. Everything he
did served the purpose of improving his own well-being or impressing someone.
I don't want to leave Voyager at his hands. He's already ruined my life once,
I will not let him do it again! Nor will I let him ruin yours."
"So you don't trust him."
He stepped directly in front of her, so close that his hips brushed her
well-rounded belly. His eyes blazed.
"And with very good reason! He's going to stab you all in the
back, like he did with me and Sito and Hazar. If all goes well, it will be
his achievement, and his alone. If it doesn't work, it will be your fault.
He'll be a victim of circumstances, he had only meant to help, and look how
they've repaid him. Poor little boy!"
He took a step back and exhaled slowly.
B'Elanna suddenly understood that there was more to it all than just
jealousy or a misunderstanding.
"What did he do to you?", she asked softly.
The anger in Tom's face had changed to disappointment and exhaustion.
"You know about the accident and the hearing?"
She tilted her head. "Not in your words."
She felt that he had to let it out. That there was something he had been
carrying with him for far too long now.
She sat down in the armchair, trying to find a comfortable position.
Now that the estimated date of birth was drawing nearer she found it
increasingly difficult to remain in one position for a longer period of time.
And she didn't want to distract him by constantly shifting.
She wasn't really the patient listener anyway, but listening was the least
she could do for him now.
Tom walked up and down the room, trying to find a good start.
"Well... I knew that the maneuver we were going to do was banned, because
it was extremely difficult and dangerous and people had died doing it.
But I also knew that we were the best pilots the academy had had in decades,
that we could do it, and that it would be a great highlight at my
graduation.
So I persuaded the others to give it a try... and Josh died.
We agreed on keeping the exact circumstances of the accident secret lest
they exclude us all from the academy.
Sure we felt terrible and guilty. And we knew that the picture of his
exploding ship was going to haunt us for the rest of our lives. But it had
been an accident. We hadn't meant to kill him.
And we thought that seeing these pictures would be enough punishment to
last a lifetime.
We weren't wrong about that. I still see them frequently."
He looked out of the window for a long moment.
"They came up with evidence. A space-telescope had picked up our ships trying
the maneuver, and they found out that Wesley had opened his ship's plasma
vent, so he could ignite the plasma for the star explosion. Still we kept to
our story and they couldn't prove us guilty. All we would have gotten was a
note in our files. And when they had just closed the case and we were about
to leave, Wesley stood up and told them everything."
He crouched beside the armchair, his head at the same level as hers.
"You know, I wasn't that innocent myself. I was arrogant, reckless and
irresponsible. And I know that what we have done was wrong, as well as I
knew it back then. But I have never ever let my comrades down or willingly
disappointed somebody I thought a friend!
Never!
I have even taken everything on myself and said that I had
tricked them into doing it, so they could still attend the academy.
Wesley obviously didn't care. He didn't talk or write to me afterwards.
The others did, by the way.
And now he's here..."
B'Elanna reached out and stroked his shoulder.
"Tom, you've changed so much since then. Don't you think he has, too?
It has been ten years, after all."
He shook his head.
"It didn't look like it. But you can see for yourself.
There's a senior staff meeting at 1900 tonight, in which Mr. Crusher will
explain his solutions to our little dilemma."
The bitterness was back in his voice.
"You know I'm on your side, don't you?"
Tom nodded before he knew it. Of course he did. She would never let him down,
just as he would never let her.
She continued: "If he's as gifted as you say, this might be our one chance
to finally make it home, so we should at least see what he has to offer.
And he won't be able to destroy what we've been building for ourselves."
There was a hint of the warrior showing, the very strength he wished he
could himself muster right now.
She pulled him into her arms, and he could feel his daughter's heartbeat
inside her.
She was right. There were some things even Wesley Crusher could not take
from them.
***
"NO WAY!"
Everybody in the Briefing Room turned to face Tom as he commented on Wesley
Crusher's latest suggestion.
"I'm not going to try Warp 10 again! Maybe the ship can take it, but it
causes mutations in the lifeforms inside it. Believe me, that's not pleasant
at all."
A brief glance at Captain Janeway confirmed that she was of exactly the same
opinion and was no more inclined to continue on this subject than he was.
It was an occurrence they'd both rather forget.
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Paris on this, Mr. Crusher. Any other
suggestions?"
A definite change of topic.
"Ahm, well, ... ", Wesley studied his PADD, "A second possibility worth
examining is also one I found in the ship's log. The coaxial warp drive."
Tom groaned and leaned over to his wife.
"What's all this? A test how much embarassment I can take? I only hope he
doesn't come up with Alice.", he whispered.
To his relief Harry had already begun to answer Wesley.
"It sounded promising at first, but it was only a prototype. Even after Tom
had built in a - what was it called?"
"Carburettor"
"Yes, even after that the system kept overcharging, which made using it very
risky. Besides Steth's ship was only about a twentieth of Voyager's size and
mass. Even the enlarged version of the engine wouldn't have been efficient
enough. Moreover the risk would have exponentiated."
He sighed. "Believe us, we've tried, but it didn't work."
Wesley seemed to start running out of ideas, much to Tom's enjoyment.
"Then there's still the Quantum Slipstream Drive. I wonder why you didn't
pursue that any further."
Now it was Seven's turn.
"There was a phase variance of .42. It dissolved the slipstream. The ship
would have been destroyed."
"Additionally you need benamite crystals as a base.", B'Elanna supported the
former Borg's argumentation.
Wesley looked nonplussed. "If that's your problem, it can be easily solved.
I have some experience in creating and regenerating similar crystals."
Janeway leaned forward.
"And you believe you can create these crystals in a reasonable time?"
"About two or three days, I'd estimate."
B'Elanna stared at him. "It takes months to do it!"
"As I said, I have my methods."
"There is still the phase variance to compensate.", Seven reminded them.
"Right. I'd like to have a look at that. Maybe I can find something you
overlooked."
Tom rolled his eyes, and B'Elanna had a hard time restraining herself.
Did this guy believe she had gotten her position just because of her good
looks?!
It definitely looked like Tom had been right about their guest.
The Captain however seemed to approve.
"Then you'd best go to work as soon as possible. Lieutenant Torres, Ensign
Kim, Seven, you assist him. This has top priority. I want to be informed of
any progress. Dismissed."
As they headed out of the room, Janeway called Paris back.
"No, Captain, I have not talked to him yet.", he told her before she could
say anything.
"That's not what I wanted to say, though you shouldn't delay that. And keep
B'Elanna out of it."
He shrugged.
"We live together and she wanted to know. What should I have told her?"
"Tom, I want the crew to support Mr. Crusher in any way possible. I have no
need for a medical emergency in Engineering. Did I make myself clear?"
"Yes, captain."
"Anyway, what I wanted to talk about is our rehersals. I think that under
the current circumstances we should cancel them."
Tom started to protest immediately.
"But Captain! Harry's birthday is just four days ahead and we've been
rehearsing for weeks. I have finally programmed the complete scenery and all
the extras. He's going to turn thirty only once in his life!"
He hesitated and examined her inquisitively.
"You don't like your role, do you? Captain, you've been doing great so far.
I've never seen a better Madame Thenardier than yourself. You have the
perfect voice for it.
Or don't you like Neelix as your husband? You should have told me when we
started it all. I would have found somebody else... After all I fear
nobody's going to eat in the mess hall any more after they have listened
to 'Master of the House'. So maybe it wasn't such a good idea anyway."
She held up her hands defensively.
"There is a high probability Harry will celebrate his birthday at home.
And I am sure the rest of us will be preoccupied with other things but
musicals at that time. Furthermore I need everybody available to build and
operate the slipstream drive if Mr. Crusher is successful. We can sing and
dance when this is over.
Besides, coming home would be a much better birthday present than our
performance, don't you think?"
"I understand." He didn't seem convinced, though.
"But if - just if - Wesley wasn't successful, and we had to cancel our
slipstream flight again, then you wouldn't object to performing."
She sighed.
"If it came down to that I wouldn't."
Then, realizing what she had just said, she straightened and turned fully
into 'the Captain'.
"This is NO permission for sabotage!"
"I wouldn't dream of it.", Tom blurted out, but immediately corrected
himself.
"No, honestly, Captain, I promise I will not do anything to hinder his
efforts."
Janeway didn't really know how to react.
A few years ago an answer like this would have led to a close watch on him
and security precautions - at least to make sure he wasn't up to one of his
infamous pranks.
But not only had he evolved into one of the most trustworthy and reliable
officers on her ship during those last years, in addition his wife was
working at this important project, and she was pregnant.
Janeway knew that the mere thought of B'Elanna being in any danger was
driving Tom mad.
No, sabotaging this posed a risk he would never be going to take.
"I'll count on that.", she finally answered.
He exhaled slowly.
"I'd like to go and tell the others now, if I may."
The Captain just nodded.
***
The next morning Harry Kim entered Engineering, an expression of utmost
concern on his face.
He headed directly towards Voyager's chief engineer.
"B'Elanna, do you have a minute?"
"Sure.", she replied, handing a PADD to the ensign who had been assisting
her, then turned to face Harry. She immediately realized that something was
troubling him.
"What's wrong?"
He lowered his voice.
"I'm worried about Tom. I've just met him in the turbolift. He looked like
he'd been run over by one of his cars. Repeatedly. He said that he just
hadn't slept well, but there must be more to it. I asked him to join us
here, and he declined and said he'd rather help the Doctor. He even seemed
to be looking forward to it!"
She took a quick look around, then dragged him into an unoccupied corner.
Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
"I know. He has been this way since this Wesley Crusher appeared. I don't
think he slept at all last night. Just kept rolling from side to side."
Her voice was barely audible now.
"He even cried when he thought I was asleep. It's eating at him from the
inside, Harry. Whatever happened back then must have hurt him more than
anyone thought - including him."
"But what can we do to help him?"
Harry looked even more worried than he had before, and B'Elanna couldn't
help squeezing his arm in sympathy. He really was a friend.
"Not much, I'm afraid.", she had to admit.
"As far as I can tell this is between him and Crusher and they have to solve
it on their own. All we can do is to get them to talk to each other."
"Doesn't look like they want to."
"That's the point. We have to make them, but I haven't had a good idea yet.
If you come up with something - anything! - let me know."
"A problem I should know of?"
Wesley Crusher had approached without either of them noticing.
"Well...", Harry began.
"I just gave him some additional details on the procedure.", B'Elanna
stepped in. She passed her friend an encouraging glance.
"Come on, Starfleet, let's get to work."
***
B'Elanna pressed both hands against her back for support and closed her eyes.
It didn't help much, though, and in addition her feet were aching almost as
much as her back did. They had been working for hours now, and she
desperately needed a break...
It was amazing how soft she had become.
A few years ago she had spent whole nights in Engineering when an
important project was at hand, completely ignoring any bodily needs.
More than once the Captain did actually have to order her to sleep.
Those days were irrevocably gone now.
Now there was not only her but also somebody else she had to take care of...
"Lieutenant Torres, the pressure is rising again. Try to-"
Before she could react the console in front of her beeped alarmingly, and
the inside of the newly altered warp core changed its colour, steam hissing
from several small breaches.
"Computer, stop simulation.", Wesley's voice intervened again, and the
upcoming explosion was stopped in its tracks.
"What are you doing?! It would have worked this time. If you hadn't
abandoned your station, we'd-"
He started to move towards her.
When B'Elanna turned to meet him, the other engineers precauciously took
cover.
"No more than the two dozen simulations before. We've all been working for
at least six or seven hours now and haven't made any significant progress.
I don't think I'm the only one who's tired and hungry. Besides my back and
my feet are killing me.", she shouted at him, then caught herself and
changed to a more pleasant tone.
He was their guest after all.
"We'll have a break and continue in about an hour or so.", she suggested
and heard approving murmurs from the other engineers.
Crusher obviously didn't like the idea.
"We've almost done it. It's only one more simulation and we're finished."
"You said exactly that about two hours ago.", she insisted.
"We'll have this break now."
He shook his head. "I always thought you Klingons were a tougher lot."
That hit a weak spot.
Her right hand had formed a fist and come up half way before she even
realized it. She stopped for a second, and then the idea hit her. Now or
never. There wouldn't be any better opportunity.
She smiled and slammed her fist into Wesley Crusher's chin.
***
The doors to Sickbay opened with the familiar hiss as Ensign Nishimura
carried the barely conscious Wesley Crusher inside.
The latter's lower face was swollen and a big bruise spread over his chin.
The Doctor immediately directed his new patient to one of the empty biobeds.
"What happened?", he asked as he started scanning.
"Lieutenant Torres hit him after he had objected to a break and insulted her.
He fell to the floor and was unconsious for a few minutes.", Nishimura
reported.
"What took you so long, Dear?", Tom Paris whispered under his breath,
rushing dutifully to the Doctor's side. He was not going to miss any of the
details.
After all B'Elanna had endured Wesley's presence for more than seven hours
before losing her temper, which meant that either the control techniques
she had learned from Tuvok finally showed some effect, or that Wesley
Crusher had indeed become more bearable than he had thought possible.
Whatever the case, he wanted to know.
The doctor had finished his examination.
"A dislocated jaw, a haemorrhage and a slight concussion. Thank you for
bringing him here, Ensign, I will take it from here."
Nishimura nodded and left.
"How should I have known she was that sensitive?", Wesley Crusher complained
indistinctly, while his jaw was set back into place.
"I remember you telling me there was a Klingon on the Enterprise."
Tom handed the Doctor the Skin Regenerator.
"One could believe you might have some experience."
"Lieutenant Torres suffers from a biochemical imbalance due to her
pregnancy, which may cause unexpected mood swings. I'm sure there was no
hostile intent behind this.", the Doctor stated, warily watching his
assistant, who was trying his best to look innocent.
Wesley apparently didn't notice this.
"But she smiled when she hit me. I'm sure she enjoyed it!", he protested.
'Well, who wouldn't?', Tom thought, but kept it to himself.
The Doctor's gaze on him intensified before he turned to his patient again.
"Mr. Crusher, I have restored your jaw and dissolved the bruise. You should
be able to eat and speak normally. Since your head suffered some damage as
well, I suggest you stay here and rest for a few hours before going back to
work. Unfortunately I have a very delicate experiment to take care of.
Mr. Paris, may I trust you not to damage him any further?"
"Absolutely, Doc."
Tom vigorously sat down on the nearest biobed while the Doctor retreated
into his office.
Slowly the details of this little plot became apparent to him.
He shook his head.
"Clever girl, my B'Elanna, don't you think?"
Wesley slowly rolled over to face him.
"What do you mean... just a moment! YOUR B'Elanna?"
Tom was taken aback.
"Don't tell me you didn't know." He raised his hand so that the other could
see the wedding ring at his finger and laughed in disbelief.
"Must be the first time news like that has not traveled at warp speed."
Wesley was still gathering the facts.
"That means the baby..."
"Is our first daughter due to be born in about six weeks time. Thank you
very much, I'll pass your congratulations on to B'Elanna."
He jumped to his feet.
"Okay, now that my wife has managed to bring us together in one room, we
might as well get down to business."
He placed himself at the foot end of the biobed.
"So tell me: Why are you really here, except for showing off again, giving
me nightmares and making my life miserable once more?"
Crusher tried to sit up but had to stop halfway. He decided to rest on his
elbows.
"Listen, Nick,..."
"Tom!"
"Whatever. I truly came here to help. If my being here causes you nightmares,
it might be because you still haven't truly confessed to your big mistake."
"MY mistake? Like you've never been a member of Nova Squad!"
"At least I had the courage to talk."
Wesley took a breath.
"And you still blame me for it."
"No, I don't."
Tom leaned forward, shoring up his hands on either side of the bed.
"I know that someone had to talk. That we shouldn't have done what we did.
But I blame you for the time when you talked, after it was all over!
And I blame you for killing our friendship and my trust in you!"
"Why didn't YOU do it then?"
Tom thought about it for a moment.
"As you said, I didn't have the courage. I was a coward back then, the most
reckless coward in the galaxy, if that's at all possible. There were so many
goals I had to reach, so many people I wanted to please. Don't know. I
didn't want to disappoint anyone, I guess."
He sat down.
"You know, after you had confessed it felt as if a weight had been lifted
from me. Somehow I could think much clearer then."
Tom stopped again, letting his thoughts drift back to that fateful day ten
years ago.
The uproar after Wesley had spoken; his own reaction to that shifting between
the urge to kill the other, despair and relief; the questioning later that
day in which he had taken all the blame on himself, allowing the others to
continue their studies.
And above all else the overwhelming feeling of finally having made a point,
of having some air to breathe.
It had not been what he had planned for his life. But right then he had
realized that he had not planned anything at all - at least not himself.
And although it had not been a pleasant experience, it had been a necessary
step. He had been freed from the pressure of his family's expectations and
had caught a first brief glimpse of what it was like to be himself.
He looked at Wesley.
"I may not like it, but I guess I have to thank you."
Now that the words were spoken they seemed trashy, a bit silly even, though
they were undoubtably true.
He caught himself.
"Nevertheless I can't approve of the way you broke up the team.
I would have understood if you had told everything before the jury had come
up with a sentence, but the way you did it, it was just plain mean."
Wesley finally managed to sit up.
"That wasn't my intention. Duty demanded that I speak. I couldn't let
injustice triumph..."
"You sound like your Captain Picard.", Tom snapped.
Wesley shut up, taken by surprise.
Tom continued: "It's because he was there, isn't it? One final chance to
impress your former Captain before he decided not to like you any more.
Of course, that's worth throwing away a long-term friendship!"
"He knew the truth. He would have turned us in anyway. I had to keep him
from doing that!"
"But not in the way you did it! Not by spitting us in the face!"
Tom slowly tried to calm down.
"When I asked you to join Nova Squad, I knew it would be difficult.
I knew that you were some kind of a prodigy and that you hadn't had many
friends of your age before.
Even so I thought you might have some honour and loyalty since you had
served on such a popular ship, and that comradeship would mean something
to you.
Obviously I was mistaken."
"You've already told me that.", Wesley replied matter-of-factly.
"So? Well, I wouldn't have to repeat it if you'd tried to change that
somehow. But you never listen to anybody but yourself, do you?!"
They both sat in silence for a few minutes.
Apparently the last blow had struck, but Wesley didn't seem inclined to
admit it.
Instead he let himself fall back on the biobed, staring at the ceiling.
Finally Tom couldn't resist the urge to rub some more salt into the other's
wounds any longer.
"If you really do think that friendship is this unimportant, maybe you
should remember who it was, that allowed your sorry litte ass to go on
sitting on academy chairs.
At least Sito and Hazar showed a little gratitude - not that I had
expected any.
But in contrast to you they knew what our team was about. And they seemed
to be happy about their ongoing careers.
I bet they both have great posts on important ships now."
He couldn't help feeling a little smug.
"Sito is dead.", Wesley said dryly.
That caught Tom off-guard.
"What?! How?"
"She served on the Enterprise.", Wesley explained.
"Hence I know, because my mother's still stationed there.
They had a mission of bringing a Cardassian who had sold information to the
Federation back to his people.
Since Sito was Bajoran she was asked to act as his captive, so he could
pose as a bounty hunter. She agreed and ended up shot by some Cardassians."
Another uncomfortable silence began to stretch between them.
"I'm sorry.", Tom whispered.
"Me too. There was nothing anybody could have done. Simply an accident."
There was no way of telling to which occasion Wesley actually referred, not
that one of them would have wanted to know.
"Looks like there's only one of us left, who's never been out of Starfleet.
We're truly the pride of the academy."
Tom tried to grin as he stood up and checked the time.
"I think I should just leave you now. The Doctor said you should rest.
Besides my shift ended 15 minutes ago."
He prepared to leave.
"Tom?"
He turned around.
"Since the helm is also affected by our work, I'd like you to join us in
Engineering - if you want to."
"I'll see what I can do."
He headed for the door.
"If I speak, I am condemned.
If I stay silent I am damned...
Who am I? Can I conceal myself forevermore, pretend I'm not the man I was
before?
And must my name until I die be no more than an alibi? Must I lie?
How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again? ..."
The Doctor's experiment was apparently finished, because the hologram had
started singing in his office, and Tom Paris couldn't help wondering if this
was a song or an innuendo.
***
"You wanted to see me, Captain?"
B'Elanna Torres entered the Captain's Ready Room, a pile of PADDs in her
hand.
"I was just going to give you the reports on today's work anyway."
Janeway took the PADDs and put them down onto her desk without so much as
looking at them.
"Lieutenant, I am most displeased with your recent behaviour.", she stated
without preamble.
"Captain, please let me explain..."
"I thought we had overcome this.", Janeway continued, completely ignoring
the Chief Engineer's protest.
"You cannot simply attack our guest because you disagree with his
decisions! You have shown so much progress since we began our journey.
And now look at this! I cannot express how disappointed I am in you."
"Captain, I didn't lose control! I wanted to help Tom..."
"Even worse, Lieutenant. You know your action will get you court-martialed,
don't you? And I had thought you knew better than to carry out somebody
else's attempts of vengeance - even your husband's."
Janeway looked more than grim.
B'Elanna took a deep breath.
"Captain, it's not what you think! I wanted them to talk to each other!"
"By knocking out Mr. Crusher in front of the entire engineering staff!"
"Well, yes. I remembered that Tom was working in Sickbay at that time, and
since they both took pains avoiding each other I thought it was the best
chance to make them meet."
Now that the truth was out, it sounded even more ridiculous than she had
expected. Maybe her plan wasn't as brilliant as it had seemed.
Anyway now it couldn't be changed anymore.
"I do apologize for my actions, Captain. And I promise, I'm going to talk
to Mr. Crusher immediately. If you want to officialy accuse me for this,
so be it. But I couldn't bear the thought of Tom slowly perishing."
Janeway leaned back in her chair, contemplating the situation.
From B'Elanna's point of view the story sounded a lot different - if she
was telling the truth.
Then again, what was true for Tom Paris definitely also applied to his wife.
None of them could stand watching the other suffer in any way.
And even though B'Elannas solution of the problem decidedly lacked
subtlety, it certainly made up for that in effectiveness.
Janeway smiled to herself.
One of B'Elanna's most prominent traits was that she always came straight
to the point.
She heaved a sigh.
"Okay, B'Elanna, I'm going to refrain from any consequences of this time..."
The Chief Engineer relaxed visibly. "Thank you, Captain."
"... if you immediately explain your behaviour to Mr. Crusher and sincerely
apologize. And I don't want to get word of any similar incident again. Ever."
"Understood."
***
"Torres to Bridge: We're ready to go."
"Acknowledged."
Janeway sat down in the Captain's chair.
"Everybody cross your fingers. Mr. Paris, engage."
Tom held his breath as he touched the console and the ship accelerated,
hoping it would work this time.
There was more more at stake than his own life now...
At least in the simulations everything had been running perfectly. They had
obviously found the last error and removed it.
They could even do without a shuttle paving the way for Voyager.
Both B'Elanna and Wesley had been surprised by Tom's appearance in
Engineering last afternoon, but it had turned out that one more brain and
one more opinion were indeed beneficial to the project.
He and Wesley had not really become friends again, but they had both shown
enough professionalism to be able to work together without going for the
other's throat.
One small step...
"Captain, all ratings are within normal range. The slipstream is holding.",
announced Harry Kim.
"Seems like you've solved the problem once and for all.", the Captain stated
approvingly.
During their last try the trouble had started at about this point of time.
This time it didn't. And it stayed this way.
At least for another five minutes.
"Captain I notice turbulences in the slipstream. They're getting worse. It
might dissolve altogether."
"Oh no, not again!"
"Mr. Kim, try to compensate."
"I'm trying, Captain. - No success!"
"Bridge to Engineering!"
"We're working on it, Captain, but we haven't found the source yet."
B'Elanna's voice sounded frantic as she moved from one console to the other
as fast as she could, wishing the heavy baby inside her to Grethor for the
moment.
"Wes, have you found something?"
They had to stop this! This mustn't be the end. Oh, please...
Wesley Crusher studied some displays.
"The generator itself is working perfectly. Looks like there's a problem
with the emitters..."
A red warning light started flashing.
"Something's overheating!"
He looked at the Chief Engineer, and the idea hit them simultanously.
"The gelpacks! They're breaking down.It's too hot for them!"
"Can we circumvent them?"
B'Elanna shook her head.
"Too many of them. They're all over the ship."
We have to cool them down - or the core itself."
Wesley darted towards the warp core, jumping over the railing and touching
the outside of the core with both hands.
"What are you doing?!"
He heard B'Elanna shout after him, then welcomed the trance.
"Captain, the slipstream is normalizing."
Harry sounded most relieved.
"Great work, B'Elanna! What have you done?"
"It wasn't me, Captain. Mr. Crusher has just touched the warp core and is
obviously cooling it down, to let the gel packs get back on line."
"Excuse me? He's TOUCHING it?"
"I can't explain it captain. It's nothing technical..." Her voice trailed
off.
"B'Elanna, everything alright?"
"He's disappearing! Engineering to Sickbay: Doctor, come over immediately.
We have an emergency!"
Tom stirred. Not Wesley, too!
As much as he had come to despise the young man over the last decade, he
wasn't sure if he could stand yet another death of a former friend.
The Doctor had his tricorder pointed at Wesley Crusher and shook his head.
"I have not seen anything like this before. Like he is changing to pure
energy and back to flesh and bone constantly. I don't know how to treat him,
Lieutenant. I'm not sure if I should treat him at all."
"What do you mean?"
"It appears to be a natural condition. He is partly energetic."
"But he's getting weaker, isn't he?"
In fact the timespans in which Wesley had a human shape were constantly
shortening.
"I cannot tell, Lieutenant. I have never encountered such a lifeform before."
The Doctor sounded truly frustrated now.
"Lieutenant Torres, the slipstream generator is being shut down."
"What?!"
"We're leaving the slipstream - in a controlled way."
Tom Paris couldn't believe it.
"Somebody has shut down the generator."
"Mr. Crusher, maybe?", the Captain asked.
"I don't know, but we are back to normal space."
As if to emphasize his words the main viewscreen once again showed the usual
moving stars.
"Engineering to Bridge!" The Doctor's voice this time.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Mr. Crusher has just left us, and he has seemingly steered the ship back
into still waters - if I may say so."
"Is he dead?" Tom could hardly suppress his panic.
"No, Mr. Paris, he has just slipped into an energetic state of being.
He is not dead."
Janeway went over to Harry Kim.
"How far has he brought us?"
"Almost 5.000 light years.", Harry beamed.
"Well, that has been quite a shortcut.", Janeway agreed, smiling.
"Let's make the most of it. Restore our old warp core and then resume course.
Thank you, Mr. Crusher."
Tom's console beeped and a short message appeared, containing only seven
letters:
"IMOKBYE"
"Show-off!", the helmsman commented, but it didn't sound angry.
***
It had been a wonderful performance so far.
Holodeck 1 had been transformed partly into 19th century Paris, which kept
changing constantly as the different scenes went by, and partly into mounting
rows of comfortable chairs in which almost the complete crew of Voyager were
seated right now.
Right in the middle of the front row sat newly-promoted Lieutenant Harry Kim
who clearly enjoyed both of his birthday presents.
Though they had unfortunately still not made it back home yet, the morale
was at its peak, as was the quality of the performance the Senior Staff
put on "stage".
In retrospect Captain Janeway was glad that she had allowed this musical to
take place.
There had been quite a bit of discussion about some of the contents and
especially the cast.
What had bothered her most had been the thought of Chakotay portraying
Enjolras, the leader of the rebellion.
Though she had wholeheartedly agreed that their First Officer was the obvious
choice and that she could trust him enough not to take this role too
seriously, there had still been the risk that some of the former Maquis
might.
He had finally assured her to put the proper amount of irony into his
interpretation, and they had additionally decided to tone down the situation
by letting his Starfleet uniform act as the "red and black" flag of the
revolution.
It had caused just the laughter they had expected.
But while this problem had been satisfactorily solved, another matter had
come to her attention: the true reason why Tom Paris had chosen this musical.
During the time of their rehearsals she had not realized it, and Tom, being
busy with directing and creating their surroundings, had probably not even
realized it himself.
Now she had seen him during the first act, sitting on his heels and staring
into nowhere, while the Doctor portrayed the newly-released convict Jean
Valjean on stage.
He had absentmindedly massaged his right ankle, the very spot where some
years ago he had worn the metal clasp of a convict himself, and mouthed
every word the Doctor sung.
He had not even stopped when he felt the Captain's eyes on him, instead he
had looked straight at her and if anything intensified his talking along
with the music.
"Yet why did I allow this man to touch my soul and teach me love?
He treated me like any other.
He gave me his trust, he called me brother.
My life he claims for god above. Can such things be?
For I have come to hate the world, this world that always hated me.
Take an eye for an eye, turn your heart into stone.
This is all that I've lived for, this is all I have known.
One word from him and I'd be back beneath the lash, upon the rack.
Instead, he offers me my freedom.
I feel my shame inside me like a knife.
He told me that I have a soul. How does he know?
What spirit comes to move my life? Is there another way to go?"
She had suddenly understood that he was referring to himself at this moment,
and to her, though she was obviously not a "man".
And she realized that for the first time she saw him without any of the
protective masks he usually wore.
This was neither Lieutenant Paris, nor the big mouthed-jester, not even
the loving husband and father-to-be.
This was just Tom, as raw and vulnerable as could be, talking about his
own life gone wrong and its eventual turn for the better in the words of
the character Valjean, and allowing her a glimpse at the abyss of his soul
and some emotional scars yet to heal.
She had had to hold on to the wall to steady herself.
During all the years he had been aboard Voyager now, he had never been this
open, at least not to her.
As much as he had changed, adapted, shown and proven his worth time and
again, some parts of him he had still kept to himself - until now.
This performance of theirs was not just a musical - to him it was an almost
frighteningly cathartic experience.
She felt very honoured to be the first one who knew.
Something must have happened to him during the past few days, something
that had melted the last few icy spots of bitterness and cynism, and she
had the indistinct feeling that this process had not even come to an end
yet.
Still she had sent him a smile across the stage, one that she hoped showed
her gratitude and how proud she was of him.
One that was met by its twin when it reached its destination.
Tom Paris had felt like this before. Once. Briefly.
On the day ten years ago when Wesley Crusher - no, the truth that had to be
told - had caused his studies at the Starfleet Academy to end.
The feeling of lightness, of being able to soar, although an important and
difficult step had yet to be taken before he could truly lift off.
Javert was on stage now, well, actually it was Tuvok.
To Tom the Vulcan was the perfect impersonation of the inspector, which
had been one of the main reasons for him to try this project at all.
Tuvok had also been the hardest one to persuade. He had finally agreed to
see his role as a philosophical quest to understand the motifs of this
"human Vulcan" that Javert was.
Judging by his performance he had perfectly succeeded.
"... It was my right to die as well.
Instead I live, but live in hell.
And my thoughts fly apart. Can this man be believed?
Shall his sins be forgiven, shall his crimes be reprieved?"
Tuvok/Javert posed the very questions Tom had asked himself over and over
again during the last few days.
Could anyone ever forgive him for what he had done? Could Josh?
Would he ever have been punished enough?
Worse still, was his current happiness on Voyager meant to last?
Would it all be gone if he closed his eyes for too long?
"Come on, Marius, time to go."
Something brushed his shoulder, and Tom looked up to see that it was
B'Elanna, still dressed in her costume as Eponine, which she would need
once more for the finale.
Giving that role to her had not been an easy decision. After all his
character, Marius, was in love with another girl, Cosette, and didn't know
that Eponine secretly adored him. And singing love songs for another woman
but his own wife had felt awkward at first.
A strange experience regarding his reputation...
However she had insisted in playing Eponine, reasoning that in this case
she would have two love songs and the relationship did much more resemble
the one they had themselves had before... well...
He smiled and turned his attention to the stage.
Lost in thought he would have forgotten his most important scene, if she
had not been his "alarm clock" - again.
Tom kissed her softly, then took a deep breath and stepped into the
limelight as the music started.
"There's a grief that can't be spoken, there's a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables now my friends are dead and gone."
It all melted together now: The musical, his life, the events he so much
wished had never happened.
Not one, but two of his comrades, friends, were dead now, and although
only one of these deaths was originally his fault, the other did not weigh
any lighter on his soul.
He could not help wondering if Sito would still be alive now if the accident
at the Academy had not happened. If she had also felt an urge to put herself
into danger and risk her own life, just to make some kind of amends for
their mistake, like he had.
It was an uncomfortable thought.
"Oh, my friends, my friends, forgive me, that I live and you are gone.
There's a grief that can't be spoken, there's a pain goes on and on..."
Sometimes he had wished that he had died in Josh's place. He had been the
leader of their squad, he had been responsible for talking them into trying
this dangerous - deadly! - maneuver. They had put their trust in him and he
had failed them.
Why had fate decided that someone else should die for his shortcomings and
let him live to face the miserable ruins of his life?
"Oh, my friends, my friends, don't ask me what your sacrifice was for!
Empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will sing no more..."
Except for the sole fact that this much was needed to finally change his
course in life, to let him see what he had missed before, to give him the
chance for a new start. One that would let him - and him alone! - choose
the way he wanted to go and when he wanted to do so.
If it had taken this much to turn him into the man he was supposed to be,
he was determined to live up to this, to show the world, the galaxy, the
universe what he was capable of if left to his own decisions.
And his one decision was to give his new family all the love that he could.
Eventually all the grief and guilt he had harboured for so long took over,
tore down the dams behind which he had kept them and flowed through and
out of him, not to return, though the memories would remain, to always
remaind him what he had lost and gained.
Leaving his mind open to see the full scope of the future that lay before
him.
For the first time in his life Tom Paris cried in public.
And he didn't mind.
- The End -
By Monika Reichelt (monika@fantastikspiele.de)
Stardate 200201.18
Synopsis:
Some kind of AU; As dreaded for so long Wesley Crusher actually appears on
Voyager during the late 7th Season and might be able to help them
get home.
But before he has to set some things straight with Tom Paris...
Author's note:
This whole story is based solely on the fact that the photo on Admiral Paris'
desk in "Pathfinder" showed Nick Locarno, and the assumption that Nick is
actually Tom.
I thought it might be interesting to see things that way and finally finish
what began in "The First Duty".
Oh, and English is not my native language (I'm German), so
please have mercy...
Thanks to Christian Erdmann for helping me find the conclusion
and to Katrin, Jacen and Anika for their support.
Disclaimer:
Star Trek: Voyager and Star Trek: The Next Generation and all their
characters belong to Paramount Pictures, a Viacom company.
"Les Misérables" was composed by Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg
and is probably owned by them and/or the appropriate record company (which I
do not know).
This story is not intended as any violation to any existing copyrights and
licenses.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Seven of Nine opened her eyes as the regeneration cycle ended and the little
lights that indicated the current mode of the Borg alcove flicked back to
normal.
She stepped out into the cargo bay, which was as well-lit and tidy as it
always was, and paused a moment to check the exact time.
She had set her alcove to end the cycle a little earlier than usual and now
had half an hour of spare time left before her shift was due.
She could still not believe what she was about to do right now - and, even
worse, that she actually enjoyed doing it.
Otherwise she was sure that Tom Paris could not have persuaded her, try as
he might, and he was usually really good at that.
So in this case it seemed as if the Doctor was right, that this interest
had truly turned into a hobby.
Seven straightened her back as she addressed the ship's computer.
"Computer, seal the entrance of Cargo Bay 2. No access to it for anybody
during the next 20 minutes."
The computer confirmed, and she swallowed once.
"Now run soundfile 'LM 1-4', instrumental only."
She waited for the computer to carry out her command and the music to start,
then began singing.
"I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth
living..."
***
"That's strange.", Harry Kim mused, keeping his eyes fixed on the console in
front of him.
He raised his voice.
"Captain, I'm registering some sort of energy field, 80.000 km off our
tarboard hull. I swear it hasn't been there a minute ago."
Captain Janeway rose from her chair and took a few steps toward the main
screen.
"Put it on screen, Ensign."
The picture changed from the drifting stars before them to a small globe- like
object, glowing intensely and seemingly moving toward them.
"A comet?", Tom Paris presumed.
"Unlikely.", Tuvok interrupted, before Harry Kim could give any sort of
reply. "It looks more like some kind of subspace disturbance. I strongly
suggest defensive measures."
"Whatever it is, it's coming closer.", Harry announced, and the Captain
decided to intervene.
"Could it be a ship?"
Harry checked the readings again.
"No, Captain, definitely not." He seemed perplexed. "It's organic! I don't
know how..."
"Try to hail it."
He did so.
"No response. And it's still moving towards us."
"Red alert. Full shields. Tom, get us away from here."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The conn officer went to work and the strange object fell back, but their
relief was short-lived.
"It's keeping up."
"Still coming closer." Harry's voice was tense. "20.000 km and closing,
18.000..."
Tom was abruptly changing course several times.
"I can't shake it!"
"It's almost here. Impact in 10 seconds."
Janeway went hastily back to her seat, while Harry counted down the seconds.
When he reached zero they all grabbed whatever hold was in their reach...
And nothing happened - except for a young man who suddenly appeared out of
thin air.
He seemed to be human and in his late twenties or early thirties, with short
dark hair and a youthful face dominated by large brown eyes.
It all happened in the same fraction of a second: Tuvok announcing an
intruder alert and ordering a security team to the bridge, the stranger
greeting the Captain and beginning an explanation, and Tom turning around in
his chair, staring at the intruder and stammering a slack-jawed and
disbelieving
"WESLEY???!!!"
Wesley Crusher had obviously not noticed him before.
"Nick? What are you doing here? I thought they had kicked you out!"
Janeway looked somewhere betweem angry and surprised and her gaze alternated
between Tom and Wesley as she addressed both of them: "You know each other?"
"Yes.", Wesley admitted, suddenly looking tired, while Tom nodded grudgily.
"Then would you both please join me in my Ready Room?", Janeway suggested,
gesturing towards the door.
"Tuvok, you have the bridge."
She sat down behind her desk, looking inquisitively at their visitor.
"So, you said, you were coming from where, Mr. ..."
"Crusher, Wesley Crusher. I was born on Earth and spent my youth on the USS
Enterprise NCC 1701-D, commanded by Captain Picard.
I studied at the Starfleet Academy. We were members of the same flight
squadron."
He nodded in Tom's direction.
Janeway had her eyes fixed on him.
"Are you human?"
Wesley hesitated for a second.
"Originally yes. A few years ago I met the Traveller, a partly energetic
alien being capable of travelling through space all by his own and
possessing great knowledge about drive systems and interstellar travel.
He bestowed some of his abilities upon me.
I came here because I was curious about what a Federation vessel was doing
this far out in the Delta Quadrant and I wanted to ask if I might be of any
help."
Tom snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Both Wesley and the Captain turned to face him.
Wesley continued, talking to Janeway, but watching Tom.
"I apologize for not announcing my arrival beforehand, Captain. I'm
afraid I don't have any means of communication while travelling.
I only wish I had known sooner that Nick was aboard your ship."
"My name's Tom.", Paris corrected, and stepped closer.
"I attended the academy under the name of Nick Locarno.", he explained to
Janeway's questioning look,
"It was my father's idea. He didn't want the teachers to be biased, because
I was a member of the oh-so-famous Paris family."
He snorted again.
"So we decided to let me study using an alias. I wasn't allowed to tell
anybody. The teachers and my fellow students were supposed to learn the
truth upon my graduation,",
he shot a sideward glance at Wesley,
"which I didn't get to experience."
His voice had a surly undertone to it.
"I assume, Mr. Crusher, you were present at the infamous accident?"
"As I said, Captain, we were both members of Nova Squad at that time.
He was in command of it."
"I think I'm beginning to remember now. Weren't you the one to
finally tell the truth to the jury?"
"Yeah, he was.", Tom growled, "Right after the sentence had been pronounced,
Mr. Perfect Starfleet Officer To Be had to stand up and spoil it all."
"Because what we were doing was wrong!", Wesley erupted.
"What we had done before had been wrong in the first place. Someone had to
say something about it!"
"I know that, too! But you could have done it a little bit sooner, couldn't
you? Oh, I forgot. You always had to be that one righteous soldier who
stabbed his treacherous comrades in the back."
A sarcastic grin appeared around the corners of Tom's mouth.
"That's not true, and you know itt!", Wesley shot back. "I was just doing
what my conscience told me."
"Your conscience or your precious Captain Picard?"
"Tom, that's enough!", Janeway intervened, putting all the authority she
could muster into her voice.
She let the silence settle for a moment.
"Mr. Crusher, I am indeed grateful to you, and I gladly accept your offer to
help Voyager get home - if you are still inclined to help us."
He nodded slowly.
"I'm calling in a Senior Staff meeting at 1900 today in which we will
discuss the exact means of this help.
In the meantime I'd like you to familiarize with Voyager and the crew.
I'm going to have your quarters prepared right away."
She sighed and turned to face Tom.
"As for you, Mr. Paris, I suggest you settle this dispute once and for all,
for the sake of our safe homecoming. Mr. Crusher is our guest and to be
treated as one. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am.", he said, his voice barely audible.
Janeway decided to leave it at that.
"All right then. Dismissed."
***
"Without him the world around me changes. The trees are bare and everywhere
the streets are full of strangers. I love him, but every day I'm learning..."
B'Elanna's singing was interrupted by the door of the quarters
she shared with Tom opening and her husband storming in and slumping himself
into the nearest armchair.
She could see at first glance that he was as far as possible
from being in a good mood.
She left the music to itself and went closer to where he sat
silently brooding, looking at nothing in particular.
"You're in the mood for telling me what's happened?" she said as softly as
she could manage.
This was one of the few occasions when he was apparently as likely to explode
as she usually was.
"He's here."
"Who?"
"Wesley Crusher." He was still not looking up at her.
B'Elanna didn't understand.
"Tom, who is Wesley Crusher, and why is he here?"
He finally turned to face her, still looking angry, but as far as she could
tell fortunately not at her.
"Wesley Crusher was one of the cadets in Nova Squad, the one who told the
truth about the accident, which led to my exclusion from the academy.
You two must have been in the same year.", he added after a brief pause.
She thought hard, but obviously could not fit him in.
"I don't know. I left early, you know. And I wasn't really good at making
friends. It might be."
She made a vague gesture.
"Anyway, what is he doing here?"
Tom snorted.
"He has become some kind of superhero, who can travel through space all by
himself, and he 'wondered what we were doing here and if he might be of any
help'. Pah! As if this precocious litte know-it-all hadn't already saved the
galaxy often enough..."
B'Elanna looked at him with the most serious expression.
"You're not saying he's capable of bringing us home, are you?!"
"Of course he is!"
Tom stood and started pacing the room.
"He's the best engineer I've ever encountered - okay, the second best."
He managed a small smile in her direction.
"In any case he's brilliant. If anyone can bring us home, he can."
"Then what's wrong with that? Why are you so angry at him?"
"Because he... he..." Tom was searching for the right words. "I don't think
he wants to do it for us. He was never the altruistic type. Everything he
did served the purpose of improving his own well-being or impressing someone.
I don't want to leave Voyager at his hands. He's already ruined my life once,
I will not let him do it again! Nor will I let him ruin yours."
"So you don't trust him."
He stepped directly in front of her, so close that his hips brushed her
well-rounded belly. His eyes blazed.
"And with very good reason! He's going to stab you all in the
back, like he did with me and Sito and Hazar. If all goes well, it will be
his achievement, and his alone. If it doesn't work, it will be your fault.
He'll be a victim of circumstances, he had only meant to help, and look how
they've repaid him. Poor little boy!"
He took a step back and exhaled slowly.
B'Elanna suddenly understood that there was more to it all than just
jealousy or a misunderstanding.
"What did he do to you?", she asked softly.
The anger in Tom's face had changed to disappointment and exhaustion.
"You know about the accident and the hearing?"
She tilted her head. "Not in your words."
She felt that he had to let it out. That there was something he had been
carrying with him for far too long now.
She sat down in the armchair, trying to find a comfortable position.
Now that the estimated date of birth was drawing nearer she found it
increasingly difficult to remain in one position for a longer period of time.
And she didn't want to distract him by constantly shifting.
She wasn't really the patient listener anyway, but listening was the least
she could do for him now.
Tom walked up and down the room, trying to find a good start.
"Well... I knew that the maneuver we were going to do was banned, because
it was extremely difficult and dangerous and people had died doing it.
But I also knew that we were the best pilots the academy had had in decades,
that we could do it, and that it would be a great highlight at my
graduation.
So I persuaded the others to give it a try... and Josh died.
We agreed on keeping the exact circumstances of the accident secret lest
they exclude us all from the academy.
Sure we felt terrible and guilty. And we knew that the picture of his
exploding ship was going to haunt us for the rest of our lives. But it had
been an accident. We hadn't meant to kill him.
And we thought that seeing these pictures would be enough punishment to
last a lifetime.
We weren't wrong about that. I still see them frequently."
He looked out of the window for a long moment.
"They came up with evidence. A space-telescope had picked up our ships trying
the maneuver, and they found out that Wesley had opened his ship's plasma
vent, so he could ignite the plasma for the star explosion. Still we kept to
our story and they couldn't prove us guilty. All we would have gotten was a
note in our files. And when they had just closed the case and we were about
to leave, Wesley stood up and told them everything."
He crouched beside the armchair, his head at the same level as hers.
"You know, I wasn't that innocent myself. I was arrogant, reckless and
irresponsible. And I know that what we have done was wrong, as well as I
knew it back then. But I have never ever let my comrades down or willingly
disappointed somebody I thought a friend!
Never!
I have even taken everything on myself and said that I had
tricked them into doing it, so they could still attend the academy.
Wesley obviously didn't care. He didn't talk or write to me afterwards.
The others did, by the way.
And now he's here..."
B'Elanna reached out and stroked his shoulder.
"Tom, you've changed so much since then. Don't you think he has, too?
It has been ten years, after all."
He shook his head.
"It didn't look like it. But you can see for yourself.
There's a senior staff meeting at 1900 tonight, in which Mr. Crusher will
explain his solutions to our little dilemma."
The bitterness was back in his voice.
"You know I'm on your side, don't you?"
Tom nodded before he knew it. Of course he did. She would never let him down,
just as he would never let her.
She continued: "If he's as gifted as you say, this might be our one chance
to finally make it home, so we should at least see what he has to offer.
And he won't be able to destroy what we've been building for ourselves."
There was a hint of the warrior showing, the very strength he wished he
could himself muster right now.
She pulled him into her arms, and he could feel his daughter's heartbeat
inside her.
She was right. There were some things even Wesley Crusher could not take
from them.
***
"NO WAY!"
Everybody in the Briefing Room turned to face Tom as he commented on Wesley
Crusher's latest suggestion.
"I'm not going to try Warp 10 again! Maybe the ship can take it, but it
causes mutations in the lifeforms inside it. Believe me, that's not pleasant
at all."
A brief glance at Captain Janeway confirmed that she was of exactly the same
opinion and was no more inclined to continue on this subject than he was.
It was an occurrence they'd both rather forget.
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Paris on this, Mr. Crusher. Any other
suggestions?"
A definite change of topic.
"Ahm, well, ... ", Wesley studied his PADD, "A second possibility worth
examining is also one I found in the ship's log. The coaxial warp drive."
Tom groaned and leaned over to his wife.
"What's all this? A test how much embarassment I can take? I only hope he
doesn't come up with Alice.", he whispered.
To his relief Harry had already begun to answer Wesley.
"It sounded promising at first, but it was only a prototype. Even after Tom
had built in a - what was it called?"
"Carburettor"
"Yes, even after that the system kept overcharging, which made using it very
risky. Besides Steth's ship was only about a twentieth of Voyager's size and
mass. Even the enlarged version of the engine wouldn't have been efficient
enough. Moreover the risk would have exponentiated."
He sighed. "Believe us, we've tried, but it didn't work."
Wesley seemed to start running out of ideas, much to Tom's enjoyment.
"Then there's still the Quantum Slipstream Drive. I wonder why you didn't
pursue that any further."
Now it was Seven's turn.
"There was a phase variance of .42. It dissolved the slipstream. The ship
would have been destroyed."
"Additionally you need benamite crystals as a base.", B'Elanna supported the
former Borg's argumentation.
Wesley looked nonplussed. "If that's your problem, it can be easily solved.
I have some experience in creating and regenerating similar crystals."
Janeway leaned forward.
"And you believe you can create these crystals in a reasonable time?"
"About two or three days, I'd estimate."
B'Elanna stared at him. "It takes months to do it!"
"As I said, I have my methods."
"There is still the phase variance to compensate.", Seven reminded them.
"Right. I'd like to have a look at that. Maybe I can find something you
overlooked."
Tom rolled his eyes, and B'Elanna had a hard time restraining herself.
Did this guy believe she had gotten her position just because of her good
looks?!
It definitely looked like Tom had been right about their guest.
The Captain however seemed to approve.
"Then you'd best go to work as soon as possible. Lieutenant Torres, Ensign
Kim, Seven, you assist him. This has top priority. I want to be informed of
any progress. Dismissed."
As they headed out of the room, Janeway called Paris back.
"No, Captain, I have not talked to him yet.", he told her before she could
say anything.
"That's not what I wanted to say, though you shouldn't delay that. And keep
B'Elanna out of it."
He shrugged.
"We live together and she wanted to know. What should I have told her?"
"Tom, I want the crew to support Mr. Crusher in any way possible. I have no
need for a medical emergency in Engineering. Did I make myself clear?"
"Yes, captain."
"Anyway, what I wanted to talk about is our rehersals. I think that under
the current circumstances we should cancel them."
Tom started to protest immediately.
"But Captain! Harry's birthday is just four days ahead and we've been
rehearsing for weeks. I have finally programmed the complete scenery and all
the extras. He's going to turn thirty only once in his life!"
He hesitated and examined her inquisitively.
"You don't like your role, do you? Captain, you've been doing great so far.
I've never seen a better Madame Thenardier than yourself. You have the
perfect voice for it.
Or don't you like Neelix as your husband? You should have told me when we
started it all. I would have found somebody else... After all I fear
nobody's going to eat in the mess hall any more after they have listened
to 'Master of the House'. So maybe it wasn't such a good idea anyway."
She held up her hands defensively.
"There is a high probability Harry will celebrate his birthday at home.
And I am sure the rest of us will be preoccupied with other things but
musicals at that time. Furthermore I need everybody available to build and
operate the slipstream drive if Mr. Crusher is successful. We can sing and
dance when this is over.
Besides, coming home would be a much better birthday present than our
performance, don't you think?"
"I understand." He didn't seem convinced, though.
"But if - just if - Wesley wasn't successful, and we had to cancel our
slipstream flight again, then you wouldn't object to performing."
She sighed.
"If it came down to that I wouldn't."
Then, realizing what she had just said, she straightened and turned fully
into 'the Captain'.
"This is NO permission for sabotage!"
"I wouldn't dream of it.", Tom blurted out, but immediately corrected
himself.
"No, honestly, Captain, I promise I will not do anything to hinder his
efforts."
Janeway didn't really know how to react.
A few years ago an answer like this would have led to a close watch on him
and security precautions - at least to make sure he wasn't up to one of his
infamous pranks.
But not only had he evolved into one of the most trustworthy and reliable
officers on her ship during those last years, in addition his wife was
working at this important project, and she was pregnant.
Janeway knew that the mere thought of B'Elanna being in any danger was
driving Tom mad.
No, sabotaging this posed a risk he would never be going to take.
"I'll count on that.", she finally answered.
He exhaled slowly.
"I'd like to go and tell the others now, if I may."
The Captain just nodded.
***
The next morning Harry Kim entered Engineering, an expression of utmost
concern on his face.
He headed directly towards Voyager's chief engineer.
"B'Elanna, do you have a minute?"
"Sure.", she replied, handing a PADD to the ensign who had been assisting
her, then turned to face Harry. She immediately realized that something was
troubling him.
"What's wrong?"
He lowered his voice.
"I'm worried about Tom. I've just met him in the turbolift. He looked like
he'd been run over by one of his cars. Repeatedly. He said that he just
hadn't slept well, but there must be more to it. I asked him to join us
here, and he declined and said he'd rather help the Doctor. He even seemed
to be looking forward to it!"
She took a quick look around, then dragged him into an unoccupied corner.
Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
"I know. He has been this way since this Wesley Crusher appeared. I don't
think he slept at all last night. Just kept rolling from side to side."
Her voice was barely audible now.
"He even cried when he thought I was asleep. It's eating at him from the
inside, Harry. Whatever happened back then must have hurt him more than
anyone thought - including him."
"But what can we do to help him?"
Harry looked even more worried than he had before, and B'Elanna couldn't
help squeezing his arm in sympathy. He really was a friend.
"Not much, I'm afraid.", she had to admit.
"As far as I can tell this is between him and Crusher and they have to solve
it on their own. All we can do is to get them to talk to each other."
"Doesn't look like they want to."
"That's the point. We have to make them, but I haven't had a good idea yet.
If you come up with something - anything! - let me know."
"A problem I should know of?"
Wesley Crusher had approached without either of them noticing.
"Well...", Harry began.
"I just gave him some additional details on the procedure.", B'Elanna
stepped in. She passed her friend an encouraging glance.
"Come on, Starfleet, let's get to work."
***
B'Elanna pressed both hands against her back for support and closed her eyes.
It didn't help much, though, and in addition her feet were aching almost as
much as her back did. They had been working for hours now, and she
desperately needed a break...
It was amazing how soft she had become.
A few years ago she had spent whole nights in Engineering when an
important project was at hand, completely ignoring any bodily needs.
More than once the Captain did actually have to order her to sleep.
Those days were irrevocably gone now.
Now there was not only her but also somebody else she had to take care of...
"Lieutenant Torres, the pressure is rising again. Try to-"
Before she could react the console in front of her beeped alarmingly, and
the inside of the newly altered warp core changed its colour, steam hissing
from several small breaches.
"Computer, stop simulation.", Wesley's voice intervened again, and the
upcoming explosion was stopped in its tracks.
"What are you doing?! It would have worked this time. If you hadn't
abandoned your station, we'd-"
He started to move towards her.
When B'Elanna turned to meet him, the other engineers precauciously took
cover.
"No more than the two dozen simulations before. We've all been working for
at least six or seven hours now and haven't made any significant progress.
I don't think I'm the only one who's tired and hungry. Besides my back and
my feet are killing me.", she shouted at him, then caught herself and
changed to a more pleasant tone.
He was their guest after all.
"We'll have a break and continue in about an hour or so.", she suggested
and heard approving murmurs from the other engineers.
Crusher obviously didn't like the idea.
"We've almost done it. It's only one more simulation and we're finished."
"You said exactly that about two hours ago.", she insisted.
"We'll have this break now."
He shook his head. "I always thought you Klingons were a tougher lot."
That hit a weak spot.
Her right hand had formed a fist and come up half way before she even
realized it. She stopped for a second, and then the idea hit her. Now or
never. There wouldn't be any better opportunity.
She smiled and slammed her fist into Wesley Crusher's chin.
***
The doors to Sickbay opened with the familiar hiss as Ensign Nishimura
carried the barely conscious Wesley Crusher inside.
The latter's lower face was swollen and a big bruise spread over his chin.
The Doctor immediately directed his new patient to one of the empty biobeds.
"What happened?", he asked as he started scanning.
"Lieutenant Torres hit him after he had objected to a break and insulted her.
He fell to the floor and was unconsious for a few minutes.", Nishimura
reported.
"What took you so long, Dear?", Tom Paris whispered under his breath,
rushing dutifully to the Doctor's side. He was not going to miss any of the
details.
After all B'Elanna had endured Wesley's presence for more than seven hours
before losing her temper, which meant that either the control techniques
she had learned from Tuvok finally showed some effect, or that Wesley
Crusher had indeed become more bearable than he had thought possible.
Whatever the case, he wanted to know.
The doctor had finished his examination.
"A dislocated jaw, a haemorrhage and a slight concussion. Thank you for
bringing him here, Ensign, I will take it from here."
Nishimura nodded and left.
"How should I have known she was that sensitive?", Wesley Crusher complained
indistinctly, while his jaw was set back into place.
"I remember you telling me there was a Klingon on the Enterprise."
Tom handed the Doctor the Skin Regenerator.
"One could believe you might have some experience."
"Lieutenant Torres suffers from a biochemical imbalance due to her
pregnancy, which may cause unexpected mood swings. I'm sure there was no
hostile intent behind this.", the Doctor stated, warily watching his
assistant, who was trying his best to look innocent.
Wesley apparently didn't notice this.
"But she smiled when she hit me. I'm sure she enjoyed it!", he protested.
'Well, who wouldn't?', Tom thought, but kept it to himself.
The Doctor's gaze on him intensified before he turned to his patient again.
"Mr. Crusher, I have restored your jaw and dissolved the bruise. You should
be able to eat and speak normally. Since your head suffered some damage as
well, I suggest you stay here and rest for a few hours before going back to
work. Unfortunately I have a very delicate experiment to take care of.
Mr. Paris, may I trust you not to damage him any further?"
"Absolutely, Doc."
Tom vigorously sat down on the nearest biobed while the Doctor retreated
into his office.
Slowly the details of this little plot became apparent to him.
He shook his head.
"Clever girl, my B'Elanna, don't you think?"
Wesley slowly rolled over to face him.
"What do you mean... just a moment! YOUR B'Elanna?"
Tom was taken aback.
"Don't tell me you didn't know." He raised his hand so that the other could
see the wedding ring at his finger and laughed in disbelief.
"Must be the first time news like that has not traveled at warp speed."
Wesley was still gathering the facts.
"That means the baby..."
"Is our first daughter due to be born in about six weeks time. Thank you
very much, I'll pass your congratulations on to B'Elanna."
He jumped to his feet.
"Okay, now that my wife has managed to bring us together in one room, we
might as well get down to business."
He placed himself at the foot end of the biobed.
"So tell me: Why are you really here, except for showing off again, giving
me nightmares and making my life miserable once more?"
Crusher tried to sit up but had to stop halfway. He decided to rest on his
elbows.
"Listen, Nick,..."
"Tom!"
"Whatever. I truly came here to help. If my being here causes you nightmares,
it might be because you still haven't truly confessed to your big mistake."
"MY mistake? Like you've never been a member of Nova Squad!"
"At least I had the courage to talk."
Wesley took a breath.
"And you still blame me for it."
"No, I don't."
Tom leaned forward, shoring up his hands on either side of the bed.
"I know that someone had to talk. That we shouldn't have done what we did.
But I blame you for the time when you talked, after it was all over!
And I blame you for killing our friendship and my trust in you!"
"Why didn't YOU do it then?"
Tom thought about it for a moment.
"As you said, I didn't have the courage. I was a coward back then, the most
reckless coward in the galaxy, if that's at all possible. There were so many
goals I had to reach, so many people I wanted to please. Don't know. I
didn't want to disappoint anyone, I guess."
He sat down.
"You know, after you had confessed it felt as if a weight had been lifted
from me. Somehow I could think much clearer then."
Tom stopped again, letting his thoughts drift back to that fateful day ten
years ago.
The uproar after Wesley had spoken; his own reaction to that shifting between
the urge to kill the other, despair and relief; the questioning later that
day in which he had taken all the blame on himself, allowing the others to
continue their studies.
And above all else the overwhelming feeling of finally having made a point,
of having some air to breathe.
It had not been what he had planned for his life. But right then he had
realized that he had not planned anything at all - at least not himself.
And although it had not been a pleasant experience, it had been a necessary
step. He had been freed from the pressure of his family's expectations and
had caught a first brief glimpse of what it was like to be himself.
He looked at Wesley.
"I may not like it, but I guess I have to thank you."
Now that the words were spoken they seemed trashy, a bit silly even, though
they were undoubtably true.
He caught himself.
"Nevertheless I can't approve of the way you broke up the team.
I would have understood if you had told everything before the jury had come
up with a sentence, but the way you did it, it was just plain mean."
Wesley finally managed to sit up.
"That wasn't my intention. Duty demanded that I speak. I couldn't let
injustice triumph..."
"You sound like your Captain Picard.", Tom snapped.
Wesley shut up, taken by surprise.
Tom continued: "It's because he was there, isn't it? One final chance to
impress your former Captain before he decided not to like you any more.
Of course, that's worth throwing away a long-term friendship!"
"He knew the truth. He would have turned us in anyway. I had to keep him
from doing that!"
"But not in the way you did it! Not by spitting us in the face!"
Tom slowly tried to calm down.
"When I asked you to join Nova Squad, I knew it would be difficult.
I knew that you were some kind of a prodigy and that you hadn't had many
friends of your age before.
Even so I thought you might have some honour and loyalty since you had
served on such a popular ship, and that comradeship would mean something
to you.
Obviously I was mistaken."
"You've already told me that.", Wesley replied matter-of-factly.
"So? Well, I wouldn't have to repeat it if you'd tried to change that
somehow. But you never listen to anybody but yourself, do you?!"
They both sat in silence for a few minutes.
Apparently the last blow had struck, but Wesley didn't seem inclined to
admit it.
Instead he let himself fall back on the biobed, staring at the ceiling.
Finally Tom couldn't resist the urge to rub some more salt into the other's
wounds any longer.
"If you really do think that friendship is this unimportant, maybe you
should remember who it was, that allowed your sorry litte ass to go on
sitting on academy chairs.
At least Sito and Hazar showed a little gratitude - not that I had
expected any.
But in contrast to you they knew what our team was about. And they seemed
to be happy about their ongoing careers.
I bet they both have great posts on important ships now."
He couldn't help feeling a little smug.
"Sito is dead.", Wesley said dryly.
That caught Tom off-guard.
"What?! How?"
"She served on the Enterprise.", Wesley explained.
"Hence I know, because my mother's still stationed there.
They had a mission of bringing a Cardassian who had sold information to the
Federation back to his people.
Since Sito was Bajoran she was asked to act as his captive, so he could
pose as a bounty hunter. She agreed and ended up shot by some Cardassians."
Another uncomfortable silence began to stretch between them.
"I'm sorry.", Tom whispered.
"Me too. There was nothing anybody could have done. Simply an accident."
There was no way of telling to which occasion Wesley actually referred, not
that one of them would have wanted to know.
"Looks like there's only one of us left, who's never been out of Starfleet.
We're truly the pride of the academy."
Tom tried to grin as he stood up and checked the time.
"I think I should just leave you now. The Doctor said you should rest.
Besides my shift ended 15 minutes ago."
He prepared to leave.
"Tom?"
He turned around.
"Since the helm is also affected by our work, I'd like you to join us in
Engineering - if you want to."
"I'll see what I can do."
He headed for the door.
"If I speak, I am condemned.
If I stay silent I am damned...
Who am I? Can I conceal myself forevermore, pretend I'm not the man I was
before?
And must my name until I die be no more than an alibi? Must I lie?
How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again? ..."
The Doctor's experiment was apparently finished, because the hologram had
started singing in his office, and Tom Paris couldn't help wondering if this
was a song or an innuendo.
***
"You wanted to see me, Captain?"
B'Elanna Torres entered the Captain's Ready Room, a pile of PADDs in her
hand.
"I was just going to give you the reports on today's work anyway."
Janeway took the PADDs and put them down onto her desk without so much as
looking at them.
"Lieutenant, I am most displeased with your recent behaviour.", she stated
without preamble.
"Captain, please let me explain..."
"I thought we had overcome this.", Janeway continued, completely ignoring
the Chief Engineer's protest.
"You cannot simply attack our guest because you disagree with his
decisions! You have shown so much progress since we began our journey.
And now look at this! I cannot express how disappointed I am in you."
"Captain, I didn't lose control! I wanted to help Tom..."
"Even worse, Lieutenant. You know your action will get you court-martialed,
don't you? And I had thought you knew better than to carry out somebody
else's attempts of vengeance - even your husband's."
Janeway looked more than grim.
B'Elanna took a deep breath.
"Captain, it's not what you think! I wanted them to talk to each other!"
"By knocking out Mr. Crusher in front of the entire engineering staff!"
"Well, yes. I remembered that Tom was working in Sickbay at that time, and
since they both took pains avoiding each other I thought it was the best
chance to make them meet."
Now that the truth was out, it sounded even more ridiculous than she had
expected. Maybe her plan wasn't as brilliant as it had seemed.
Anyway now it couldn't be changed anymore.
"I do apologize for my actions, Captain. And I promise, I'm going to talk
to Mr. Crusher immediately. If you want to officialy accuse me for this,
so be it. But I couldn't bear the thought of Tom slowly perishing."
Janeway leaned back in her chair, contemplating the situation.
From B'Elanna's point of view the story sounded a lot different - if she
was telling the truth.
Then again, what was true for Tom Paris definitely also applied to his wife.
None of them could stand watching the other suffer in any way.
And even though B'Elannas solution of the problem decidedly lacked
subtlety, it certainly made up for that in effectiveness.
Janeway smiled to herself.
One of B'Elanna's most prominent traits was that she always came straight
to the point.
She heaved a sigh.
"Okay, B'Elanna, I'm going to refrain from any consequences of this time..."
The Chief Engineer relaxed visibly. "Thank you, Captain."
"... if you immediately explain your behaviour to Mr. Crusher and sincerely
apologize. And I don't want to get word of any similar incident again. Ever."
"Understood."
***
"Torres to Bridge: We're ready to go."
"Acknowledged."
Janeway sat down in the Captain's chair.
"Everybody cross your fingers. Mr. Paris, engage."
Tom held his breath as he touched the console and the ship accelerated,
hoping it would work this time.
There was more more at stake than his own life now...
At least in the simulations everything had been running perfectly. They had
obviously found the last error and removed it.
They could even do without a shuttle paving the way for Voyager.
Both B'Elanna and Wesley had been surprised by Tom's appearance in
Engineering last afternoon, but it had turned out that one more brain and
one more opinion were indeed beneficial to the project.
He and Wesley had not really become friends again, but they had both shown
enough professionalism to be able to work together without going for the
other's throat.
One small step...
"Captain, all ratings are within normal range. The slipstream is holding.",
announced Harry Kim.
"Seems like you've solved the problem once and for all.", the Captain stated
approvingly.
During their last try the trouble had started at about this point of time.
This time it didn't. And it stayed this way.
At least for another five minutes.
"Captain I notice turbulences in the slipstream. They're getting worse. It
might dissolve altogether."
"Oh no, not again!"
"Mr. Kim, try to compensate."
"I'm trying, Captain. - No success!"
"Bridge to Engineering!"
"We're working on it, Captain, but we haven't found the source yet."
B'Elanna's voice sounded frantic as she moved from one console to the other
as fast as she could, wishing the heavy baby inside her to Grethor for the
moment.
"Wes, have you found something?"
They had to stop this! This mustn't be the end. Oh, please...
Wesley Crusher studied some displays.
"The generator itself is working perfectly. Looks like there's a problem
with the emitters..."
A red warning light started flashing.
"Something's overheating!"
He looked at the Chief Engineer, and the idea hit them simultanously.
"The gelpacks! They're breaking down.It's too hot for them!"
"Can we circumvent them?"
B'Elanna shook her head.
"Too many of them. They're all over the ship."
We have to cool them down - or the core itself."
Wesley darted towards the warp core, jumping over the railing and touching
the outside of the core with both hands.
"What are you doing?!"
He heard B'Elanna shout after him, then welcomed the trance.
"Captain, the slipstream is normalizing."
Harry sounded most relieved.
"Great work, B'Elanna! What have you done?"
"It wasn't me, Captain. Mr. Crusher has just touched the warp core and is
obviously cooling it down, to let the gel packs get back on line."
"Excuse me? He's TOUCHING it?"
"I can't explain it captain. It's nothing technical..." Her voice trailed
off.
"B'Elanna, everything alright?"
"He's disappearing! Engineering to Sickbay: Doctor, come over immediately.
We have an emergency!"
Tom stirred. Not Wesley, too!
As much as he had come to despise the young man over the last decade, he
wasn't sure if he could stand yet another death of a former friend.
The Doctor had his tricorder pointed at Wesley Crusher and shook his head.
"I have not seen anything like this before. Like he is changing to pure
energy and back to flesh and bone constantly. I don't know how to treat him,
Lieutenant. I'm not sure if I should treat him at all."
"What do you mean?"
"It appears to be a natural condition. He is partly energetic."
"But he's getting weaker, isn't he?"
In fact the timespans in which Wesley had a human shape were constantly
shortening.
"I cannot tell, Lieutenant. I have never encountered such a lifeform before."
The Doctor sounded truly frustrated now.
"Lieutenant Torres, the slipstream generator is being shut down."
"What?!"
"We're leaving the slipstream - in a controlled way."
Tom Paris couldn't believe it.
"Somebody has shut down the generator."
"Mr. Crusher, maybe?", the Captain asked.
"I don't know, but we are back to normal space."
As if to emphasize his words the main viewscreen once again showed the usual
moving stars.
"Engineering to Bridge!" The Doctor's voice this time.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Mr. Crusher has just left us, and he has seemingly steered the ship back
into still waters - if I may say so."
"Is he dead?" Tom could hardly suppress his panic.
"No, Mr. Paris, he has just slipped into an energetic state of being.
He is not dead."
Janeway went over to Harry Kim.
"How far has he brought us?"
"Almost 5.000 light years.", Harry beamed.
"Well, that has been quite a shortcut.", Janeway agreed, smiling.
"Let's make the most of it. Restore our old warp core and then resume course.
Thank you, Mr. Crusher."
Tom's console beeped and a short message appeared, containing only seven
letters:
"IMOKBYE"
"Show-off!", the helmsman commented, but it didn't sound angry.
***
It had been a wonderful performance so far.
Holodeck 1 had been transformed partly into 19th century Paris, which kept
changing constantly as the different scenes went by, and partly into mounting
rows of comfortable chairs in which almost the complete crew of Voyager were
seated right now.
Right in the middle of the front row sat newly-promoted Lieutenant Harry Kim
who clearly enjoyed both of his birthday presents.
Though they had unfortunately still not made it back home yet, the morale
was at its peak, as was the quality of the performance the Senior Staff
put on "stage".
In retrospect Captain Janeway was glad that she had allowed this musical to
take place.
There had been quite a bit of discussion about some of the contents and
especially the cast.
What had bothered her most had been the thought of Chakotay portraying
Enjolras, the leader of the rebellion.
Though she had wholeheartedly agreed that their First Officer was the obvious
choice and that she could trust him enough not to take this role too
seriously, there had still been the risk that some of the former Maquis
might.
He had finally assured her to put the proper amount of irony into his
interpretation, and they had additionally decided to tone down the situation
by letting his Starfleet uniform act as the "red and black" flag of the
revolution.
It had caused just the laughter they had expected.
But while this problem had been satisfactorily solved, another matter had
come to her attention: the true reason why Tom Paris had chosen this musical.
During the time of their rehearsals she had not realized it, and Tom, being
busy with directing and creating their surroundings, had probably not even
realized it himself.
Now she had seen him during the first act, sitting on his heels and staring
into nowhere, while the Doctor portrayed the newly-released convict Jean
Valjean on stage.
He had absentmindedly massaged his right ankle, the very spot where some
years ago he had worn the metal clasp of a convict himself, and mouthed
every word the Doctor sung.
He had not even stopped when he felt the Captain's eyes on him, instead he
had looked straight at her and if anything intensified his talking along
with the music.
"Yet why did I allow this man to touch my soul and teach me love?
He treated me like any other.
He gave me his trust, he called me brother.
My life he claims for god above. Can such things be?
For I have come to hate the world, this world that always hated me.
Take an eye for an eye, turn your heart into stone.
This is all that I've lived for, this is all I have known.
One word from him and I'd be back beneath the lash, upon the rack.
Instead, he offers me my freedom.
I feel my shame inside me like a knife.
He told me that I have a soul. How does he know?
What spirit comes to move my life? Is there another way to go?"
She had suddenly understood that he was referring to himself at this moment,
and to her, though she was obviously not a "man".
And she realized that for the first time she saw him without any of the
protective masks he usually wore.
This was neither Lieutenant Paris, nor the big mouthed-jester, not even
the loving husband and father-to-be.
This was just Tom, as raw and vulnerable as could be, talking about his
own life gone wrong and its eventual turn for the better in the words of
the character Valjean, and allowing her a glimpse at the abyss of his soul
and some emotional scars yet to heal.
She had had to hold on to the wall to steady herself.
During all the years he had been aboard Voyager now, he had never been this
open, at least not to her.
As much as he had changed, adapted, shown and proven his worth time and
again, some parts of him he had still kept to himself - until now.
This performance of theirs was not just a musical - to him it was an almost
frighteningly cathartic experience.
She felt very honoured to be the first one who knew.
Something must have happened to him during the past few days, something
that had melted the last few icy spots of bitterness and cynism, and she
had the indistinct feeling that this process had not even come to an end
yet.
Still she had sent him a smile across the stage, one that she hoped showed
her gratitude and how proud she was of him.
One that was met by its twin when it reached its destination.
Tom Paris had felt like this before. Once. Briefly.
On the day ten years ago when Wesley Crusher - no, the truth that had to be
told - had caused his studies at the Starfleet Academy to end.
The feeling of lightness, of being able to soar, although an important and
difficult step had yet to be taken before he could truly lift off.
Javert was on stage now, well, actually it was Tuvok.
To Tom the Vulcan was the perfect impersonation of the inspector, which
had been one of the main reasons for him to try this project at all.
Tuvok had also been the hardest one to persuade. He had finally agreed to
see his role as a philosophical quest to understand the motifs of this
"human Vulcan" that Javert was.
Judging by his performance he had perfectly succeeded.
"... It was my right to die as well.
Instead I live, but live in hell.
And my thoughts fly apart. Can this man be believed?
Shall his sins be forgiven, shall his crimes be reprieved?"
Tuvok/Javert posed the very questions Tom had asked himself over and over
again during the last few days.
Could anyone ever forgive him for what he had done? Could Josh?
Would he ever have been punished enough?
Worse still, was his current happiness on Voyager meant to last?
Would it all be gone if he closed his eyes for too long?
"Come on, Marius, time to go."
Something brushed his shoulder, and Tom looked up to see that it was
B'Elanna, still dressed in her costume as Eponine, which she would need
once more for the finale.
Giving that role to her had not been an easy decision. After all his
character, Marius, was in love with another girl, Cosette, and didn't know
that Eponine secretly adored him. And singing love songs for another woman
but his own wife had felt awkward at first.
A strange experience regarding his reputation...
However she had insisted in playing Eponine, reasoning that in this case
she would have two love songs and the relationship did much more resemble
the one they had themselves had before... well...
He smiled and turned his attention to the stage.
Lost in thought he would have forgotten his most important scene, if she
had not been his "alarm clock" - again.
Tom kissed her softly, then took a deep breath and stepped into the
limelight as the music started.
"There's a grief that can't be spoken, there's a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables now my friends are dead and gone."
It all melted together now: The musical, his life, the events he so much
wished had never happened.
Not one, but two of his comrades, friends, were dead now, and although
only one of these deaths was originally his fault, the other did not weigh
any lighter on his soul.
He could not help wondering if Sito would still be alive now if the accident
at the Academy had not happened. If she had also felt an urge to put herself
into danger and risk her own life, just to make some kind of amends for
their mistake, like he had.
It was an uncomfortable thought.
"Oh, my friends, my friends, forgive me, that I live and you are gone.
There's a grief that can't be spoken, there's a pain goes on and on..."
Sometimes he had wished that he had died in Josh's place. He had been the
leader of their squad, he had been responsible for talking them into trying
this dangerous - deadly! - maneuver. They had put their trust in him and he
had failed them.
Why had fate decided that someone else should die for his shortcomings and
let him live to face the miserable ruins of his life?
"Oh, my friends, my friends, don't ask me what your sacrifice was for!
Empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will sing no more..."
Except for the sole fact that this much was needed to finally change his
course in life, to let him see what he had missed before, to give him the
chance for a new start. One that would let him - and him alone! - choose
the way he wanted to go and when he wanted to do so.
If it had taken this much to turn him into the man he was supposed to be,
he was determined to live up to this, to show the world, the galaxy, the
universe what he was capable of if left to his own decisions.
And his one decision was to give his new family all the love that he could.
Eventually all the grief and guilt he had harboured for so long took over,
tore down the dams behind which he had kept them and flowed through and
out of him, not to return, though the memories would remain, to always
remaind him what he had lost and gained.
Leaving his mind open to see the full scope of the future that lay before
him.
For the first time in his life Tom Paris cried in public.
And he didn't mind.
- The End -