Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager is owned and horded by Paramount. The author of this story has not and will not make any profit from it.

Authors Note: Yeah, yeah...yeah. It seems generic now. If you've read voyager fan fiction, you've probably read Tom fiction. This is simply another reincarnation of a "Poor, Poor Tom Paris" story I started back in 2000 at the popularity peak of such fics. We just couldn't get enough of him back then, what happened? Oh yes, and if something trivial makes the story hard to read or enjoy such as formatting, sentence structure and such, please tell me so I can fix it.

Summary: Captain Janeway doesn't get around to assigning Tom his new position as fast in my story, as she did in the pilot episode. Maybe she hadn't drank enough coffee, perhaps she had indigestion...but for some reason she's a bit slower on the uptake in my story. The results are catastrophic for Tom.

Warnings: No SLASH yet. May contain SLASH later. I haven't decided. If you don't like slash, better just not get into the story;)

Dominos and Deities

Chapter one

"Temporary Solutions"

Life was strange. Tom was convinced that whoever was pulling the strings had a significant cruel streak and was probably bullied as a child. He also floated the notions that this puppeteer had a morbid sense of humor and a flair for the dramatic. How could there be any other possible explanation for his current situation Tom challenged.

Tom chuckled to himself as he mentally explored his present situation. What dominos had to be placed just right for him to land 70 years from everything he knew, with a crew divided on everything but their opinion of him? Forget dominos, it had to be one helluva experiment of some unnamed deity. But he told himself he could handle it, he would survive. He always survived.

Then again, the fact that he had just created an elaborate theory of dominos and deities to escape the cruel irony of circumstance was not lost on his since of humor, and he laughed at himself.

Tom was heading to holodeck 2. The captain had heard that Tom was skilled in holodeck programming. Probably information gleamed from one of his fathers many rants to his first officer, back when she was under his command.

Janeway admired his father "The almighty Admiral Paris" and he was unsure of what she thought of Tom Paris, Starfleet reject and manqué flunky. Tom physically shook his emotions from the ruts he some times couldn't stop them from circling in. He thought of the scene he and Janeway played out a few minutes earlier.

0935; 9 hours since the array was destroyed; Captains Ready Room

Tom walked into Captain Janeways ready room. Elbows propped on her desk, each hand gently grasping one side of a coffee cup so large it covered half her face while she was sipping, eyes closed.

Tom wasn't sure if he should make a noise or just leave her with her coffee. But she knew he was there and asked him to take a seat before she opened her eyes. She sat down her coffee, smiled pleasantly and asked "Would you like something to drink Mr. Paris?"

Tom shook his head no. His mind was pre-occupied with questions that discouraged any attempts at food or drink.

She leaned back in her chair, and began to confess his situation to him. As if he didn't already understand it perfectly.

"Mr. Paris, we are stranded 70 years from home. This ship is now home to 153 crewmen divided by a war taking place 70,000 light years from our current position. A war in which you have been a party to each side. I'm sure you understand the implications."

Tom simply purse his lips into a shape that could not accurately be described as a smile or a smirk, but something in between.

The Captain found Toms cool attitude antagonizing and let it taint her next statement more then she would have preferred. "I am determined to do what ever I must to get us home Mr. Paris."

Toms shoulders became stiff, his lips parted letting an audible gulp of air into his lungs and he blinked more then once. This was it, Tom knew this was the part where she told him she was leaving him behind at the first hospitable planet they came across.

For a nanosecond, all the bravado Thomas Eugene Paris had walked into her ready room full of, melted leaving small traces of fear and panic. The Captain realized Tom had read her statement more deeply then she had intended him to, and instantly rephrased with even stronger emphasis. "I am determined to do what ever I must to get us home Mr. Paris, and while you position has not yet been determined, you are a part of Voyagers crew."

Captain Janeway left those words to hang in Toms ears a while before she began again. Tom now understood two things. First she had decided to keep the maqui on ship and two, she was going to put him in the brig for his "own" protection. Toms shell snapped back into place, and he stared at Captain Janeway with a cool stoicism that combined with sleep deprivation frustrated her. She leaned back in her chair and teepeed her fingers under her chin.

"Until the maqui situation has been resolved, you will be confined to quarters."

Tom became even quieter then he had been, his breathing froze and his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward in his chair and tried hard to keep the panic from his voice as he slowly said "Captain Janeway, you can't. It's not right." He knew he had a stronger case then a plea of wrong vs. right, but his mind was already being overwhelmed with the concept of a life sentence to his quarters. Walls or bars, bed vs. cot, rations or meals, a prison is a prison no matter the details.

Although Tom Paris was hard to read, Captain Janeway sensed the change in his demeanor again, and did not misread his fear like he convinced so many others to. She had been up 2 days straight and had lost count of her coffee consumption hours ago. With out much thought, but good intent she tried to calm Tom.

"Your right Tom. And I don't like the idea anymore then you do. I am willing to give you an alternative if you want it."

Tom let out his breath and slowly asked "What alternative?"

"Frankly, it's not an alternative but a tweak of the original. You will spend 8 hours a day on the holodeck program I am assigning to you as a project. You will be allowed to eat your meals in the meal hall. You will not be required to be escorted by security to and from your destinations and I will receive no misconduct reports on you. These are not guidelines but terms of a contract. You break any of them once, and these privileges will be stripped and accompanied with a period of confinement in the brig. Understood Mr. Paris?"

It was harsh. However, Tom was still a convict and these were only temporary living conditions. When she had decided how to incorporate the maqui crew and worked out a course of action, she would figure something else out for Tom. For now he would simply have to endure his situation according to her "crew triage".

Tom was silent. He could only wonder if this would be her attitude towards him for the next 70 years, and if he would live with a collar until he was an old man. He began to hate her. "What kind of program?"

Janeway became serious, as if this program was an important matter. "Mr. Paris, all the crew aboard voyager, will in some way, be neighbors for what might be a long time to come. I would like them to have a place to go, that will ease the differences, break some fences and open up the lines of communication. Something that is not culturally bound. I want it for the entire crew. Something to help bring them together and just relax."

Tom stood and mocked the captain in a salute, and said "Understood captain."

Janeway hardened a bit and said "Dismissed." with her eyes closed.

Tom was uncertain of the Captains feelings towards him. Why would she have him build a holodeck program when he could be flying voyager? He was the best pilot on the ship and she knew it, why was he stuck in the holodeck building something they would both pretend was important? She had let him pilot while they were under attack, and he thought he had proved his capability. Tom was only growing more annoyed and suspicious with each new thought.

Tom pushed it all out of his mind. He was on a mission. He was going to create a holodeck program that would suit all the ships captives. In fact he already had an idea, and he began making plans so involved he wouldn't have any energy or thought to spare for what might become of him in the future.

Tom was lost in creative programming as he strolled down the halls. He didn't notice the 3 fleeters heading his way. They saw him though, and not a commanding officer in site. Tom was slammed into the wall so hard he thought he might have lost a few brain cells. It took him a few seconds for his mind to catch up to what had just happened.

He heard a muttered "You should really be more careful Paris. Walls get damaged that way." But by the time his eyes cleared, they were gone.

Tom wasn't on the floor. They only shoved him into a wall. Hard. He leaned against the wall for a few seconds to regain his balance, and then continued to the holodeck. He wouldn't report it. Hell, reporting it would just cause more problems then it would solve and might get him confined to the original prison plan Janeway had devised.

Tom knew the fleeters didn't have any use for him, but he hadn't expected such a brazen assault. Whispering and indirect insult was the fleet way, physical attacks were more maqui in nature. Guess the two crews were more alike then either would ever admit. And again Tom found amusement. He was careful not to lose his self in thought again though. Apparently that was as dangerous on Voyager as it was in Auckland.

I know it starts out slow, but it does pick up! If you decide not to continue, please leave a review telling me why. I'm trying to improve my writting, but can't do it without others opinions.