I am determined to start this story again (no pun intended). Sorry about that - I promise I won't start it again and I will stick to what I have written here no matter how bad it is... I'm probably going to regret that. Also, be advised: I have no real plan here and I apologise for not being better organised about this all. But hey - it's all writing practice - right?
With that little warning/apology out of the way, lets begin Again again!
Again – Chapter 1 – Escapade.
Running.
Run faster.
Two men and a woman race down the corridors in bids for freedom. Their hopes suddenly dissipate when a familiar noise bursts out of non-existence.
BUZZZZ!
Forcefields fly up around them at the intersection of two corridors. They spin around to stare at each other - someone has to be a traitor and each knows it is not themselves.
"Which of you told them!" The woman shouts.
"Personally, I think it's Max." The blonde haired man retorts.
"You're quick to point fingers, Paris!" Max growls.
"You're not denying it." Paris counted.
The two men consider each other for a second and then together, slowly, turn to face the woman. Her face contorts.
"What?" She spits.
"Come on, Seska. It was you're bright idea. You've got to take some responsibility." Tom Paris offers. Max makes a non-committed noise.
Seska's eyes narrow as she considers the two men. "Whose side are you on, Max?"
Max's head jerks for a moment, seemingly offended. "Mine." He says simply.
"Well, that clears that up. For a moment I thought we were all one happy family." Paris comments. "How wrong can a guy be?"
From all directions, Voyager's security personnel surround them. Their freedom dives into the vents recycling the ships air. Their escapade is over.
Two days later.
Tom Paris is laying flat on his back with lights from the platform underneath him flickering gently as he stares resigned at the ceiling of the cargo bay. Blood soaked clothes cover his battered body. Voyager starts to tremble - her enemies are closing their nets.
This must end... This cannot go on... Whatever price has to be paid, I shall pay.
A voice answers his thoughts. 'Are you sure?'
Yes.
As the cargo bay threatens to surrender its sanctuary, Tom drowns in misery.
How did it ever come to this?
He closes his eyes and a whisper of silence echoes around the room as the white flag of defeat is raised.