Chapter 1: Flying Voyager

Tom Paris sat at his post on the bridge, laughing. He was pretty sure Harry Kim had just said something hilarious a moment ago.

"Forget how to read your console, Ensign?" Tom teased from across the bridge, shaking his head and chuckling. He glanced at the helm readings on his own console and made a slight manual course correction.

Paris enjoyed his time on the bridge flying the USS Voyager. He relished the thought of being the one who told the ship to keep on plugging along to the Alpha Quadrant. He'd gotten so used to flying Voyager that he often corrected slight disturbances along the course before the automated systems could. Sometimes he liked to test himself and see how many he could nab before the computer got to them.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, did you say something?" Kim said in return, a grin on his face as he studied his Ops console.

"I did," Paris replied. "I'm sorry if you can't hear me, Ensign, I'm too busy flying the ship." When Tom talked, he mostly didn't know what he was going to say until after he said it. To some people, this angered them. For example, his girlfriend, B'Elanna Torres. While most of the time she laughed at his words, there were those times when B'Elanna's testy Klingon side would give him a good dressing down. Others, like Harry, just laughed and attempted to get back at him. It never worked, of course.

"Well, well, Lieutenant, I'm not always sure when you're talking to me or the viewscreen. Of course, if you would learn some physics, you would understand how sound waves work."

Paris swiveled his chair around to look at his friend, a smile in his eyes and a comeback ready to do its damage. "Harry, you can take your physics and—"

"I do not see how this discourse is productive to our mission," Tuvok interrupted. He was looking up from his station at Security, a not-so-amused look on his angular face. Paris swiveled over to glance at the staid Vulcan. All he needs is some horns and a pitchfork to complement those ears and that attitude, Paris thought wryly. Tuvok needed to loosen up.

Paris almost let a retort slip through his teeth, but a bit of self-control made him swallow his words. Ok, so maybe the self-control wasn't all there was to it—maybe the glint of Tuvok's three full pips on his collar to Paris' meager two pips made him hesitate.

But, as he turned back to his console, Paris couldn't help but mutter, "It wouldn't kill you to laugh for once, Tuvok."

Right as he said it, he knew he'd regret it. Paris flinched as Tuvok's superior Vulcan hearing picked up the words.

"Laughter is an emotion and is therefore unproductive."

To Paris, Tuvok was just egging him on. Oh, why was holding his tongue such a challenge for Tom Paris?

"I'm sure there's a scientific paper somewhere in our databanks about the positive effects of laughter with your name on it, Tuvok."

"Curious. I would not write an article pertaining to the science of something that has no science."

Tom didn't even bother to mention he hadn't meant the paper was written by Tuvok. He was too busy voicing his retort. "Ask the Doctor, Tuvok. He would say something completely different."

"Gentlemen!" Chakotay broke in, stopping the further comments before it got too out of hand. For a moment he wondered if anyone had seen the irony with this debate. "Focus."

Chakotay didn't mind when the bridge personnel chatted. He thought this action healthy to the long and sometimes grueling hours the crew shared in the Delta Quadrant. He knew Captain Janeway felt the same. But, unfortunately, Commander Tuvok did not share these thoughts, which caused some friction amongst the bridge, especially with the impulsive and blatant Tom Paris.

Right as Tom turned back to face the viewscreen, Tuvok to his console, and an engaged bridge crew back to their work, the doors to the Captain's ready room swished open and Captain Kathryn Janeway walked onto the bridge, her new short hairstyle slimming her profile and giving her a more inviting look.

Chakotay nodded at Janeway and stood up, vacating the captain's chair and taking his usual place to her left.

"What's with all the commotion in here?" Janeway asked lightly as she claimed her rightful spot, crossing her slender legs.

"Oh, nothing, Captain. Just engaging in friendly conversation about the stellar phenomena we pass," Chakotay answered, a smile in his brown eyes. Even though he had been the captain aboard the Maquis raider Val Jean, when faced with the unusual situation and Janeway's persistent and determined personality, he had found it hardly difficult to give up command to her.

"I never considered you to be the lying type, Chakotay," Janeway said, grinning at him and relaxing under his calm gaze and the familiar curves and lines of the tribal tattoo adorning his face.

He grinned back. "A first officer lies only when he wants to spare his captain the misery of the truth."

Tom Paris had been only half listening to all this. Mostly, his thoughts were on his little debate with Tuvok. Does everything on this ship have to be so serious? We're stuck 70,000 light-years away from home; we have to allow ourselves to laugh sometime.

Janeway interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Paris, course correction. The new coordinates and information are being directed to your console," she said as her fingers glided over the small console on her armrest.

"Aye, Captain," Paris replied, coming out of his reverie and applying the coordinates. The new information required an increase in speed, and excitement at the prospect filled Paris. He was a bit of a speed-demon, he admitted, and adding some velocity to the voyage gave him a thrill.

"Oh, Tom," Janeway said, as if in afterthought. "The Doctor said since you didn't show up in sickbay yesterday, he wants you to come down and help out today."

Paris sighed. While he knew he was considered the most qualified person on the ship to take the job, that didn't give him permission to be excited about it. "Alright," he said. The captain's comment had burst his bubble. Now, when he increased the ship's speed for some reason it didn't give him much of a thrill this time.

"Now," Janeway commanded when she didn't see Tom Paris' form jump up and move to the turbolift at the idea of assisting the Doctor in sickbay.

"Yes, ma'am," Paris said, getting up from his seat at the conn. As he walked over to the turbolift, he heard Harry say, "See you later, Nurse Paris."

Tom gave a chuckling Harry Kim a dirty look as he strode into the turbolift.