"Mr. Paris," the Starfleet officer looked down on the blond man fiddling with the engine of an old shuttle. Red at her shoulders, hands on hips, it was obvious she didn't want to be at the Auckland Penal Facility.
"Captain," the young man stated after several seconds careful scrutiny. He couldn't miss the four gold pips at her collar, nor the way she held herself.
"Join me for a walk," she requested. Both knew it to be an order.
Looking around, Tom noted the guards ignoring them. It seemed they had been briefed and he had little choice, especially with the phaser on the Captain's hip. Nodding, he placed the welder carefully in its place, before standing. Taking the time to stretch, he nimbly climbed the ladder to the higher deck, joining his compulsory companion.
Waiting until they were well away from the work area and out of the hearing rang of anyone else, Captain Janeway paused, turning to the man at her side. Analysing his body language and expression gave nothing away. Hands in the at ease position, he assumed the deportment of a consummate Starfleet Officer.
"I have new orders for you," Kathryn Janeway finally spoke, eyeing the blond. He didn't seem impressed by her rank or purpose for this visit.
"I assumed that was the reason for your sudden appearance, Ma'am," Tom responded neutrally.
"I prefer to be addressed as Captain," Kathryn stated with a hard glare.
"Yes, Ma'am," Tom responded, with just enough impudence in his tone to get the woman's back up.
"It seems someone thinks you've been cooling your heals long enough," the Captain frowned, not liking this overconfident individual. She knew his history, both public and concealed, worked with his father and now had to accept the man into her crew. Looking around the minimum-security facility, in many ways, this part of New Zealand could be considered a paradise. It was little wonder he'd been sent here, even though a traitor to the Federation. It seemed there was more to this story and Kathryn Janeway was determined to find out just what that was, over the course of their short mission. "I've been given command of a Voyager, First of the new Intrepid class. We're about to ship out to DS9 before attempting to locate a Maquis ship last seen entering the Badlands."
"Why," Tom enquired, intrigued, "is this Maquis ship so important."
"My Chief of Security, Lt. Tuvok is onboard," Kathryn offered in a quite tone. "He has failed to report for the last six days."
"And I'm coming along to aid you navigate the Badlands and find this vessel?" Tom asked.
Nodding, Capt. Janeway sighed. "You know the people and territory better than anyone Starfleet's got. Chakotay is in command of Val Jean."
"Well," Tom smiled, but the emotion didn't make his eyes, "that will make this mission interesting."
"As far as my crew are concerned, you'll be an observer," Kathryn stated.
"You may need my piloting skills," Tom grinned, "before this mission is over, Captain. I've never seen a Starship that can navigate the plasma storms."
"You haven't seen Voyager," Kathryn fired back.
"Time will tell, Ma'am," Tom offered with a chuckle, following the woman as she recommenced her stroll towards the Wardens office, posture stiff.
The release of Thomas Eugen Paris from the Penal Facility was accomplished with ease. Wishing to take nothing from his incarceration, Tom quickly replicated a Starfleet uniform and joined Capt. Janeway for the shuttle ride to McKinley Station. Her ship was waiting and ready to begin their high warp journey to DS9. Time, it seemed, was of the essence as far as Starfleet was concerned. They made the month-long journey in a little over nine days, leaving them almost a fortnight behind Val Jean's last known position. The information, coming from the Cardassian's, was suspect at best.
On the journey, Tom met and befriended a young Ensign named Harry Kim. The Operations Officer joined the crew at DS9, where a Frengi called Quark tried to fleece the newly minted officer. Even stories of Tom's checkered past from both the First and Medical Officer's didn't deter Ensign Kim. Refreshingly, Harry asked his question outright, demanding Tom answered and still chose to continue the friendship, even when Paris warned the younger man away.
Much to Lt. Com. Cavitt's displeasure, Capt. Janeway requested Mr. Paris join the Alpha shift on the bridge. Tom couldn't think of anything more boring, seated beside the Captain, keeping his mouth shut and unable to run his hands over the ship's controls. Lt. Stadi proved to be an adequate pilot, navigating the storms at the edge of the Badlands. The trouble started with the displacement wave, killing many of Voyager's senior crew and leaving the ship seventy thousand light years from home.
"What," Captain Janeway asked of the observer standing in her ready room, once the Maquis ship had been destroyed and their crew integrated into Voyager's, "am I supposed to do with you, Mr. Paris?"
"I guess," Tom smirked, "returning me to the Penal Facility is out of the question."
Allowing her eyebrow to rise formed Kathryn's only answer.
Cocking his head to one side, Tom returned the glare with one of his own. It was a battle of wills, and both knew it. The computer chimed, indicating someone else wanted the Captain's attention. However, it did not bring their animosity toward each other to any conclusion.
"Come," Kathryn's tone openly displayed her displeasure.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Captain," Chakotay felt the tension in the room. It was thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Mr. Paris, I have asked Mr. Chakotay to become my First Officer," Janeway looked at the Maquis but addressed the Observer.
"Sensible," Tom nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "Are you going to provide a body guard for me, Captain?"
"From me," grey eyes turned glacial, "the Maquis or the Starfleet crew, Mr. Paris."
"All three I should think," Tom managed an ironic smile. "The verbal abuse from the Fleeters, I've mostly ignored the last three weeks. The physical beating from disgruntled Maquis will probably result in several visits to sick bay but will die down quickly once their anger is expunged. Personally, I'm more afraid of you."
"Why is that, Mr. Paris?" Kathryn Janeway finally sighed.
"Perhaps," Chakotay, realising he was in the middle of a very personal disagreement, decided it was time to leave, "I should return to the bridge, Captain."
"I think, as Frist Office, you need to know of the history between Mr. Paris and myself," she stated.
"Our history, Kate," he supplied sarcastically. "If you'll excuse me, Ma'am, I believe you have ships business with your First Officer. I'm sure you don't want an observer present."
"I haven't dismissed you, Mr. Paris," the Captain stated, her tone hard.
"In case you've forgotten, I'm not Starfleet anymore," he spat. "You made sure of that, after Caldik Prime. So, if it's all the same to you, Captain…"
"Don't walk away from me, Lieutenant," Kathryn's gravely tone openly displayed her displeasure. "And don't pretend you ever gave up your commission. I did what any First Officer would do when I found those records and reported the inconsistencies to the Starfleet investigators."
"It was never about your duty, Kate," Tom's eyes became chips of ice. "It was more personal than that."
Chakotay, standing on the side lines comprehend the situation, more than he'd like. Tom Paris's drunken behaviour while serving with the Maquis suddenly made sense with this new information. His need to find a fight, and flying became a coping mechanism. Falsifying records was a court marshal offence, but not one that usually lead to dishonourable discharge. Yet, Tom Paris never stated he'd been discharged, but cashiered out of Starfleet.
His eyes glancing between protagonists, Chakotay could finally name the emotion radiating of both of them. Unresolved sexual tension. If he didn't miss his guess, they'd been in a relationship when the Caldik Prime incident occurred and the Captain had been the one to find the evidence of her lovers' culpability. If so, it wouldn't take long for the rest of the crew to uncover this information.
"Am I to understand that Mr. Paris," Chakotay attempted to change the subject, "never resigned nor was discharged from Starfleet?"
"No," they stated in unison. Paris added, "I chose to take an indefinite leave of absence."
"Serving with the Maquis?" Chakotay asked, afraid he'd find out Paris had been working for Starfleet Intelligence.
"Let's just say," Tom turned his attention to the Frist Officer, "I still had some friends at Starfleet Headquarters. They asked me to do them a little favour."
"But you were caught on your first mission with the Maquis?" Chakotay questioned.
Smirking, Kathryn jumped in to answer before Tom could open his mouth and give one of his impertinent responses which would further degrade the relationship between the two men. "Deliberately. Starfleet attempted to draw Mr. Paris back into the fold by passing along false information to the Cardassian's. A calculated move that had nothing to do with gathering data on the Maquis."
"That's right," Tom watched the shock cover Chakotay's face, before disappearing just a quickly. "I was a plant, as much as Tuvok. Starfleet though they could use me, then draw me back in because I'd been a good little boy and followed orders. When I refused, they charged me with being a traitor to the Federation and locked me up. Still not enough, they sent the woman I was engaged to marry to hall me out of prison and come on yet another mission. So, you see, joining the Maquis and this crew, cost me more than you could ever understand."
With that, Tom stormed out of the Ready Room. Stunned, Chakotay turned to a white-faced Kathryn Janeway. She'd sunk into her seat.
"You were engaged?" he asked.
"Two years," the Captain agreed. "I kept putting our wedding date off. Tom wasn't happy about it. Then, the accident on Caldik Prime occurred."
"Your evidence had him convicted?" Chakotay knew the answer but needed to hear it from her lips.
"Yes," she hissed. "I don't think Tom's ever forgiven me. You know, Starfleet never mattered to him, only the flying did. That's why he falsified the records. He couldn't stand the idea of being grounded. He's the best dam pilot I've ever known and the reason why I'm reinstating his rank. As Chief Conn Officer, I can finally give him back a little of the self-respect he lost because of me."
"What about your personal relationship?" questioned Chakotay.
"Some things," Kathryn stated miserably, "are unsalvageable, Mr. Chakotay. Dismissed."
"Captain?" Chakotay attempted.
"I said dismissed."