Disclaimer: ST: Voyager is property of CBS/Paramount. I'm just playing in their wonderful playground.
AN: Thank you to Rhonda for beta'ng this for me.
AN2: The dialogue at the beginning is from the episode Course: Oblivion.
"Range?"
Tom glanced down at his console, his fingers flying over the button, "Five million kilometers."
"Try hailing again." Janeway ordered, walking about the bridge.
"No response," Tuvok replied.
"Captain," Harry called out, "I've found the source of the distress call. It's coming from a vessel."
"Can you identify it?" Chakotay asked.
Kim's brow furrowed as he tried to make out the information that his scan was picking up. "No, the readings are erratic. Looks like they've taken heavy damage."
" Four hundred thousand kilometers." Paris announced.
Kathryn sat down and opened the console before her, "Drop to impulse. Are the rescue teams ready? Bridge to Sickbay, stand by for casualties. "
"In visual range."
"Onscreen."
The viewscreen panned out to reveal an empty space before them. There were no ships present only a thick cloud of what looked like interstellar dust and debris.
"Where's the ship?"
"No sign of it," Kim replied.
"That debris. That couldn't be all that's left," Chakotay said horror filling his voice at the lives lost in this brutal quadrant. So far, they had been lucky in their journey but how long would their streak last? How did they know that one day that this end wouldn't be their destiny? He turned to Kathryn, seeing the all her hidden fears for her crew revealed in that split second before she concealed it.
"I'm detecting residual deuterium, anti-neutrons, traces of dichromates. If it was a vessel, it isn't anymore." Tuvok replied, his unemotional tone, causing some of the crew to flinch.
"Scan for life signs, escape pods." Kathryn ordered, even though something within her was positive that they would find none.
"None." Tuvok reported.
"Make a note in the ship's record. We received a distress call at oh nine hundred hours, arrived at the vessel's last known co-ordinates at twenty one twenty. The ship was destroyed, cause unknown." Kathryn said quietly.
Was this one day going to happen to them? Would one of her decision lead to her ship and crew becoming nothing more than discarded dust, their lives wiped clean from history with no one aware of their existence and their accomplishments in life?
"Captain, I've found something. It's damaged but sensor show that it's a signal beacon."
"Beam it aboard, Harry and work on finding any intact messages," Kathryn ordered. "I expect a report in one hour."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I wasn't able to retrieve a lot from the beacon. It was too heavily damaged but I was able to access to three logs and a few images," Harry said in a quiet voice. "One message is from the Captain and the other two of the messages are personal. There's one for Tom and another on for you, Captain. All the others are too badly fragmented and distorted. With some time, I might be able to clear them up a little but at the moment, it just doesn't look feasible."
"Who are the messages from?" Chakotay asked.
"They're brief logs from our counterparts." Harry replied, looking down at the briefing room table, remembering the sight of those familiar faces and the pain that radiated from them to reach over the comm and sear into the person listening to them.
"Counterparts?" Kathryn asked, turning sharply to face him.
"Our clones from the Demon planet."
Kathryn leaned back, her eyes closing. Another Voyager gone just like the incident with the Vidiians a few years ago. "Let's hear the Captain's message, Harry."
"I've cleared up the resolution as much as possible but it's still badly fragmented." Harry stated, transmitting the information to the console.
The screen crackled and scrambled before the image of Kathryn Janeway filled the screen. Her face weary and devastated, a streak of dirt marred her pale flesh, drawing ones eyes to the sunken features of her cheeks. Her once vibrant eyes, dull and lifeless, her face etched with grim lines.
Chakotay gazed at the defeated image that filled the screen and barely held back a gasp at the gaunt figure that emerged from the viewscreen. Her face seemed to be melting and shifting, pulling at her flesh and stretching out her skin, only to seconds later start to bunch and conceal her eyes. Every few seconds, it would glow in a grayish hue before stilling once again. She looked as if the weight of the world had been placed on her and that for once, she had faltered under its unmerciful grasp.
Harry sat beside her, looking stoically forward, his eyes far older and jaded than theirs. His uniform stained with soot, sweat and slivery blood. Seven was behind them, no longer standing at perfect attention but bowed over slightly and clinging to the small railing to hold up her trembling frame.
Where was his counterpart? Where were Tom and B'Elanna? Spirits, so few of us left. His heart ached for this Kathryn as he saw how empty her bridge had become. He looked towards his Kathryn and his breath caught at the realization of what this log represented to her.
This had been Kathryn's nightmare. The one that had beat at her in the darkest of night, tearing down her strength and smothering the woman she had once been. Her crew dead, while Voyager's destruction looming around her and the heart wrenching knowledge that she had failed them.
One hundred and fifty-two deaths and their blood smeared on her hands.
Guilt, remorse and loss. Kathryn's constant companions since her decision to save the Ocampan's seven years ago.
Chakotay saw her quickly inhaled breath and the tightening of her jaw as she looked on her counterpart.
Kathryn watched as her face constricted and moved, appearing to have something living beneath the pale surface.
"…we've download our…in the…that we would not be for… These are…words of a brave… If you find…oyager, please pass…memories. Don't… die… forgotten.
…way, out."
The ready room was silent, mourning for a crew that they had given life to and that they once again encountered in its final echoes of death.
"Harry, you mentioned two other messages."
Harry passed one padd to Tom and another to the Captain. "These are personal messages from their Tom and Captain. They meant for it to only be seen by the person that it was addressed too."
"Did you manage to retrieve anything else?"
"A few images." Harry replied walking towards the monitor and accessing what remained of 152 lives that had been whittled down to only half a dozen images.
A picture of B'Elanna and Tom filled the screen. Their arms wrapped around each other, their hands clasped and the sparkle of golden bands on their fingers. Even though they were surrounded by their friends and family, they looked at no one else. As if in the light of their love, everyone had faded away. Unconditional love and devotion shone from them.
Tom and B'Elanna shifted uncomfortably in their seats, feeling everyone's eyes lock on them before shifting back to stare at their counterparts. They hadn't discussed their relationship with anyone yet. They had been keeping it under quiet, wanting to keep it special between them without outside interferences butting in and making the sly comments.
Tom's hand slid under the table and squeezed B'Elanna's letting her know it was all right. He looked at his Captain, wary of her reaction to their relationship but she only nodded and smiled, giving him her approval.
Next, a picture of Naomi tugging a laughing Kathryn forward towards a brightly lit birthday cake, as the senior staff stood in the background clapping and cheering. Followed by one of them hugging, while Kathryn ignored a large dollop of whipped topping on her nose and tickled Naomi, while Naomi sat giggling in her arms, her tiny fingers coated with the white topping. In the distance, Sam stood watching the scene, hands over her eyes and face flushed brightly at the antics of her daughter. The crew that had been captured in the picture was smiling widely. It was a moment where Kathryn was not their captain but a cherished member of their large family and a loving aunt to her youngest charge.
The senior staff looked about the room, refusing to look at their Captain as they all saw the yearning on Kathryn's face as she held the child closely to her chest, her arms wrapped protectively around Naomi, and a wistful smile forever captured, yet never seen from her counterpart.
Chakotay watched the scene, everything within him hungering for the time when his dreams would be realized. Seeing Kathryn with a child in her arms, brought back every hope and dream that he had pushed aside to honour her request but now, here was the proof that Kathryn wished for the same thing. He had seen what she had struggled to hide and his was damned if he was going to ignore it this time. His gaze locked with hers, unwavering until she skittishly looked away from the renewed promise that she saw.
Kathryn fought against the overwhelming sensation to run. She steeled herself, readying herself for the confrontation that would no doubt take place before this day ended between them. They would either be starting a new phase in their lives or picking up the pieces of a destroyed friendship because she knew that Chakotay wouldn't back down until he had broken through the barriers that she had erected between them.
She looked forward, trying to ignoring him and his silent declaration.
Another image and they all chuckled as the Doctor appeared wearing a dark scowl and a garbed as a pirate, with skintight black pants and a billowing white shirt. A brightly colored sash hung around his hips and trailed down his left thigh. Tucked into the sash was a gleaming silver sword. His right arm was wrapped protectively around Seven, who was dressed in a rich burgundy, silk gown, edged in delicate lace and pearls. The gown hugged her petite frame, clinging to her petite waist and then flaring out at the hips, a feisty blonde damsel. She peered coquettishly over her fan at the Doctor, her lips pursed in a small pout as let her hand resting on the hilt of his sword suggestively…
A picture of Harry kissing Tal Celes underneath mistletoe appeared next, both of them blushing and giddy. Happiness radiating from them, oblivious to the fact that they were being stared at by Harren and Telfer, who bore stunned and shocked expressions…
Memories, birthdays, gatherings.
Image, after image appeared, each one growing more degraded until only the barest of outline of bodies could be seen.
An eclectic array of moments that were mere fragments of what had been left of their counterparts.
B'Elanna and Tom walked silently down the corridor to their quarters, both lost in thought after what had been revealed in the morning briefing. Clenched in Tom's hand was the data stream with a message to him from Demon planet's Tom.
'Did he really want to hear it?' He tensed. 'Was he prepared to deal with whatever his counterpart had to say about him?'
"Tom," B'Elanna called out, pulling him from his racing thoughts, "Would you want me to stay?"
"You don't mind?" Tom murmured, looking down at the padd as if it was a foreign entity.
B'Elanna rolled her eyes and lightly punched his shoulder.
"Ouch!" Tom replied, snaking an arm about her waist and pulling her snugly to his side. "What was that for?"
"For forgetting," B'Elanna growled playfully, nipping him gently along his jaw and wiggling out of his loose hold.
"Alright, I'll behave." Amusement gleamed in his eyes and he tugged her back, dipping her. He laughed, "But wouldn't you rather I be bad? I can be really bad if you want."
B'Elanna smiled up at him, content to be in his embrace and confident that he would keep her safe. "You had better not drop me, Ace. Or you'll be seeing how bad I can be."
"Promise?" Tom asked playfully, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously while he pulled her up and looked at her with anticipation.
"Maybe later, after you read your letter, Paris. Come on." She replied, dragging him forward.
Sitting close together, Tom began to feel uneasy about what was about to be said to him. His hand reached down and grasped B'Elanna's, his thumb brushing over her fingers agitatedly. Her other hand covered his, stilling his movements and calming him.
Tom looked at his clone, seeing the tiredness and despair that weighed down the other man. His hair scruffy, his face covered with stubble and soot. His body was a mass of rolling eddies, far worse than the Captain's had been. His eyes were lifeless and dull, as if he was merely a shell waiting for the end. His clothes were dirty and stained, as if he could care less about his appearance but a bright flash of gold shone brightly in the dim quarters. Cleaned and polished, a sharp contrast to the rest of him.
"Begin message," Tom ordered.
Tom Paris' Personal Log
Tom,
If you're reading this, it means that at least some small part
of this crew has survived, I hope that this isn't all that remains
of us, because what I have say shouldn't go any farther than
whoever accesses the encrypted file and yourself.
I have your memories, Tom. I know that you've always thought
that you were worthless and undeserving of someone. We can
thank Admiral Paris for that one.
How the hell could you live with him and not have issues with
trusting someone? Always having to prove that you were worthy of
being a Paris and always failing to meet his expectations. Until the
day we proved that he had been right all along.
Tom Paris: the hot shot, the cocky ace pilot, the Starfleet and Maquis
traitor, the convict. Not much going for us there. We were useless,
motivated only by what we wanted, needed, desired. We had to prove
to them all that we were exactly what everyone whispered behind our
backs.
Drinking, gambling and an endless trail of women. That was what we
were before Janeway rescued us from prison. We had a second
chance the minute we became stuck in the other side of the universe.
Why go through all this, when you already know? Because I want to
remind you of who you were at some point in the not so distant past and I
want to tell you about us.
You know who I'm talking about, Tom.
B'Elanna, feisty, hot tempered and sexy! If you haven't made your
move, what the hell are you waiting for? She's perfect for you. Don't
get me wrong, you'll have lots of moments where you're ready to
throw in the towel and walk away. Both of us have a temper, even under
that easygoing attitude that you like to hide behind.
You're a bit of a prankster and stubborn. B'Elanna is the only one that
can keep you firmly grounded. Her kisses have as much impact as her
swift right hook on us when we get some harebrained idea, which we
get plenty of.
We flirted…we kissed…and I fell for her, Tom. Hard. Anything that she
wanted, I would want to give her. But, she didn't want anything, except me.
She really looked at me, saw beneath the lies and fake smiles, and still
wanted to be with me. No conditions, just acceptance. You never got that
before from anyone and it was empowering but scary at the same time. I
kept thinking I would mess it up, and that she'd walk away. Just like everyone
else had but that stubborn Klingon temper refused to give up on me.
We got married in the mess hall. Surprised that I took the plunge?
She looked beautiful, Tom. Full dress uniform, that jacket hugged her
curves, and made me lose my breath as she walked towards me.
The Captain had given her a bouquet of flowers made of lilies, rose,
jasmine and baby's breath blossoms but they paled when compared to
her. Her lips curled in a small smile and her eyes looked at me as if
I was the only man in the room. Whatever doubts I had disappeared
When I took her from Chakotay, our hands entwinedwith each other.
Each of us holding on to the other, eager to say our vows.
We had decided on plain, gold bands. Hers thin and delicate, mine
a little thicker. I stood in front of our friends and promised that I
would love, honor and cherish her for all time. My voice almost cracked
as I made my promise to her, and my hand trembled as I slid her band on.
My wife.
I raised her hand to my lips, brushing over the band that had made me
more than what I had once been.
Do you know what I felt at that moment?
Content. For once in my life, I was complete and happy. I was living out my
Dreams of a family and a home of my own. But it was a dream that quickly
became my worst nightmare.
She died, Tom.
As I was planning the beginning of our lives, she had been slowly dying.
Tom stilled the image, the harsh sound of his breathing pounding in his ears. The grief of his counterpart almost unbearable to watch. Tom felt his chest tightening at the thought of losing his B'Elanna. She had come into his life and made him a better person, made him have a reason for living other than being a hotshot pilot or Admiral Paris's son.
He clung to her, needing to feel her heartbeat and the steady rhythm of her breath on his cheek as he held her. In the distance, he heard her voice reassuring him that everything was all right.
He took a shuddering breath, "Computer resume," Tom ordered in a low voice.
I had just finished planning our honeymoon, somewhere warm. Just like
she would have liked … You know how she hates the cold.
We had been ready to leave for one week of bliss on the holodeck when
the problems started.
I walked into our quarters and found her on the floor, shivering and ill.
Her undershirt drenched with her sweat, her teeth chattering from the cold
but her body burning with fever. She hated being sick even more than feeling
cold. I had to drag her to Sickbay, my ears ringing with her words.
She said some very creative curses and punishments on that long
walk.
I thought she had a simple virus, one that the Doc could easily cure and then
we'd be heading off for some r and r. Sandy beaches, warm tropical nights
and long walks in the moonlight. A perfect honeymoon setting.
We had just got into sickbay when she collapsed. I laid her on the biobed and
Stepped back, letting the Doc run his scans. She looked so pale and weak.
Even her threat to maim me lacked her usual fire. Her voice was so weak…
I had to bend down to listen and heard her struggling to breath. I looked
Into her eyes and tried to deny what was happening.
She was fading fast; I could see it in her eyes. I was losing her. One second
she was fighting to live for us and then the next she was gone.
Our life together…
Our dreams…
Our future…
Gone.
But that wasn't the worst thing that happened. What could be worse? I
proved what a complete unfeeling bastard I was to everyone.
When I found out what we were, I turned to Harry and I denied her.
I denied her being my wife and the other half of my soul. Denied
that she had made me a better man.
I made it seem that all she was to me was nothing more than a
lose collection of silvery liquid that had accidentally come to life, that
we were just a freak of nature that never had been meant to be alive.
What we are killed her flesh, but I had murdered her memory.
The jaded, harsh, cocky, old Tom Paris was back. You know what
I'm talking about. If you look through your memories, you can see that bastard
lurking beneath the surface, just waiting to take over if you're not careful.
I screwed everything up again, not a surprise really.
Tom Paris, Voyager's resident fuck up.
Why am I telling you all of this?
It's so you don't mess up like me, Tom. Stop the act and just go to her.
B'Elanna's as terrified as you are. Take that chance. Let her in.
You won't regret it, I never did. Even as I pushed her away, deep inside
I never regretted a day that I spent with her.
Treat her well. You both deserve the happiness that was taken from us.
I'll be dead soon, and contrary to Admiral Paris' fears it's not in some seedy
bar or alien prison after a bar brawl. It's going to be in our bed, wrapped up
in a thick blanket that still smells like her.
Days...hours…minutes. Does it really matter?
I've been dead since the moment she took her last breath.
End Log
His voice had dropped to a mere whisper by the end of the log, as if he was no longer speaking to Tom but to himself.
B'Elanna had never seen the haunted look on her Tom's face and she could only hope that she never would. "He really loved her," B'Elanna murmured, breaking the thick silence that had permeated the small quarters. She leaned further into his embrace and looked at the slouched figure in the monitor.
"Yes, he did," Tom replied softly, his arms tightening and pulling her closer. Resting his cheek on her soft hair, breathing in her essence. "As much as I love you," he whispered. "I don't ever want-"
B'Elanna turned and looked into eyes that cried out with the knowledge of having lost her to death and then betrayed her by turning away from everything that they had meant to each other, even if he hadn't been the one that had done it.
"Shh," B'Elanna soothed him, brushing away the lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. "I know."
His frame shook at her acceptance of him, the layers melting away and stripping the façade that he had worn for the majority of his life and leaving behind the real man.
The End