Title: Second Time Around
Category: TV Shows » StarTrek: Voyager
Author: Dee474
Language: English, Rating: Rated: K+
Section 3
Alpha Quadrant. Changed Timeline. May 1 – May 5, 2367.
Starting Point of the changed Timeline.
It begins with Tom waking up at Starfleet Academy and discovering that he is in the past. It follows his crisis filled journey to Starbase 220 where he is to supposed to meet up with the Enterprise.
Originally Chapters 11 -17
Wait a minute!
Starfleet Academy, May 1, 2367
The alarm ringing shrilly in his ears startled Tom from his restless sleep. With a muffled curse, he leapt from his bed and turned to retrieve his uniform from his closet. Except, it wasn't there.
The closet that is.
Blinking several times in disbelief, Tom turned around in a circle, taking in his surroundings. He appeared to be in his old dorm room at the academy.
"Ha-Ha, very funny," he growled, "Harry Kim, you are so in for it, now. This means war! Computer, end simulation." When nothing happened, Tom varied his request, "Computer, state my location." No voice replied. Tom frowned again, only now noticing the distinct lack of movement beneath his feet that was always present when on a ship in space. Tom could always feel it, even on the holodeck; even though most others weren't that sensitive. Upon this realisation, his brain also quickly registered the lack of background engine noise.
Okay, so I'm not on the holodeck, I'm not even on Voyager. Or any kind of ship at all. Tom gulped. What on earth is going on?
A sudden beeping from the computer terminal on his desk broke the silence. Walking over, Tom noticed that a message was waiting for him. Opening it, he saw the stardate: 44617.2 (May 1, 2367 6:10am). The day my orders for the Exeter came through.
Tom took a deep breath. Opening the missive he saw that his assumption had been correct. Curious. Very curious, he thought to himself.
"Well, this is an interesting turn of events," he said out loud. I wonder if I am still dreaming, just imagining this, or maybe I've been kidnapped by aliens again. Tom considered the possibilities carefully. Maybe it's just an elaborate trick or a temporary side trip into an alternate reality.
Except, hadn't he been wishing, just last night, for the opportunity to reinvent himself?
Quite a coincidence, his logic taunted back. And so very convenient.
His more emotional side immediately argued back. Even if it isn't real, so what? Who was he to knock a gift horse in the mouth? Why not make the most of this opportunity while I have it?
Aren't you a little old to be believing in Fairy Godmothers? His logic argued back even more ruthlessly.
Tom wavered for a moment but then, staring again at the comm-message, made his decision. Maybe it was a big coincidence. And convenient. But he didn't care. Just supposing this is the real deal? A bona fida opportunity to make my life over? I'd be a fool not to take it. No matter how small the probability, I have to act on it!
But, what to do about it all? How was he to change it? Last time, he had gone storming into the Admiral's office for a confrontation. All that that had achieved was the Admiral declaring that it was obvious that he wasn't Enterprise material since he was acting like a spoilt child. I need to do things differently this time.
Tom spent a fruitless ten minutes pacing around. Every idea he had, he immediately discarded. Yeah, different … I need to take a completely different route. Don't think Admiral's son, think Starfleet Officer…. "Yes, that's it!"
Quickly, Tom accessed the comm. channel. "Priority comm. to Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Enterprise," he began.
Dear Sir, I appreciated the opportunity I received last week when you asked me to interview for the position of Conn. Officer, Beta Shift. I have, just now, received my posting to the Exeter, rather than the Enterprise. While I appreciate that there is stiff competition for a position on Starfleet's flagship, I am disappointed that I was not chosen for this position. As I stated in my interview, I am very keen to serve on the Enterprise in any capacity, and am willing to take a lesser position, even relief or shuttle pilot, if that is possible. I would appreciate any feedback you can give me regarding my application and ask that I be kept in mind for any other positions currently available. Failing that, I would be honoured to be also considered for any future piloting positions that may come up.
Thanking you once again for your positive consideration of this application.
Yours Sincerely,
Thomas Eugene Paris. Graduating 4th Year Cadet. Captain Nova Squad.
With a grin, Tom sent off the missive. He knew full well that the only reason he had not gotten the posting back in his real life was his father's interference. Tom frowned as he remembered the life he had apparently just escaped from. After more years than he cared to remember of being the butt of everyone's ire for being 'the Admiral's son', even after being disowned and disinherited, he had had enough. This time round things were going to be different!
Political language
… is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.
George Orwell
USS Enterprise, May 1, 2367
Captain Picard was in the middle of reading the morning reports when the priority comm. message came through. The Captain read it with a frown before verifying his own information regarding the matter. That done, he requested a private and secure comm. link to Admiral Necheyev.
"Admiral, sorry to disturb you at this early hour, but there seems to have been a misunderstanding at Starfleet Personnel and Procurement. I trust it can be cleared up before we leave space dock."
Admiral Necheyev frowned. "Personnel and Procurement really isn't my area Jean-Luc, as you well know, so what's the real reason for this call?"
"Actually, it's about Admiral Paris' son, Tom. I assume you know who I'm talking about?
"Yes, of course," said Necheyev, "Thomas Eugene Paris, Owen's youngest child. He's certainly made a name for himself at the academy. No-one could miss his record-breaking flying times, or his skill at leading Nova Squad the last four years. Rumour has it, you have been head-hunting him."
"I most certainly have, and I distinctly remember making my application with P&P to acquire his services as my Beta Shift Conn Officer. I was informed last week that Mr Paris had turned down my offer in favour of the Chief Conn position on the Exeter. Inexplicably, I've just received a missive from Mr Paris, requesting feedback on why he was NOT chosen for the position, and requesting any other post that I might be willing to offer, even relief shuttle pilot..."
"I see," said Necheyev. "If you could forward those letters - from both Ensign Paris, and P&P - to me, I will certainly get somebody to look into this blunder for you. Necheyev out."
Picard leaned back. He had met the elder Paris, several times. Hard not to when you served with the man's brother for so many years. And he was pretty sure where the 'blunder' had originated.
Still, young Tom Paris had shown initiative and creative lateral thinking in his dealing with the issue and had acted like a professional junior officer - rather than just running to daddy to complain like a typical Admiral's brat would. This proactive action was just the kind of thing that his dear friend Cole would have done, back in the day.
Cole Paris had been his chief Conn. Officer on the Stargazer. Always a keen observer of people, Picard had quietly noted over the years how often people underestimated Cole because of his mild, easy-going and 'flyboy' persona. Jean Luc wasn't one of those people. Apparently, his initial assessment that Tom Paris was more like his uncle than his father was right on track.
Jean-Luc nodded decisively to himself as he turned his thoughts again to Tom Paris' message. "Definitely, a young man worth cultivating, even if he is somewhat cocky with it." He stated out loud to himself. Still, who wasn't cocky when they first started out? He chuckled softly under his breath, before hailing his First Officer.
A.N.
Tom's uncle, Cole Paris, really did serve on the Stargazer under Captain Jean-Luc Picard. …although, I only ever read one of the Stargazer books (at least ten years ago) so I might have taken some artistic license in my portrayal of the friendship between Cole and Jean-Luc.
Hard Choices
Starfleet Academy, May 4, 2367.
Tom finished his coffee and stood up to leave. Automatically, his eyes flicked around the room. Half way through the sweep he saw her; the last person that he would have expected to see right here, right now, in this universe.
"B'Elanna." Her name whispered across his lips even as a gigantic smile washed across his face. Well don't just stand there, the snarky voice in his head said. Go over there and introduce yourself. Dumping his used cup carelessly in the recycler, he began to stride over to her table.
Half way across the room Tom froze as he saw Maxwell Burke slide into the booth table to sit across from B'Elanna. He watched in stunned horror as the man leaned across and kissed her, thoroughly. "Guess she's already dating Maxwell in this reality," he muttered disconsolately to himself.
Now what do I do?
Tom shakily made his way to another seat and collapsed down onto it. What are you doing? His heart cried as it began beating fast in his chest. Run right over there and take her in your arms. Tell her that she's amazing. Beg her to forget him and give you a chance…." Tom nodded to himself.
But then that other rational, logical voice spoke up. And then what? You ship out in an hour. Hardly enough time to say hello, let alone make a lasting impression. And long-distance relationships never work out anyway. Tom groaned. Remembering how long it had taken for her to take him seriously in his other life, he hesitated. Why bother? Even after I persuaded her that I was serious, she still ended up choosing him. This is your new start remember. Feeling, utterly dejected, Tom returned to his room to finish packing.
Alone in his dorm room, Tom found himself walking angrily around the room arguing with himself.
"It's better this way. Right now, she doesn't even know I exist. No matter what, I simply must make this Enterprise posting work out for me. Maybe, I'll get lucky and not end up in the Delta Quadrant after all…In any case, I probably deserve to be alone. Maybe it's my punishment, no matter what universe I'm in."
But that hasn't happened yet. It's a clean slate. I should have at least tried.
"This is my second chance to make things right. To make sure that Caldik Prime never happens.
I love B'Elanna. She is the other half of my soul.
"But can I justify the loss of three of my best friends, just to have her?"
No! I can't.
"I've got to be strong and walk this out."
Heck, who am I fooling? The whole reason I'm even having this conversation with myself is because she had just dumped me for Burke back on Voyager. My life was a mess in that life, and I didn't end up with the girl because of it anyway.
Tom angrily punched the wall, thankful that the three people he had been sharing quarters with had already shipped out for their assignments. Fortunately, the pain registered in his brain, and he forced himself to calm down somewhat. Depressed, Tom began to wallow in self-pity, but then realising what he was doing, made himself stop. New beginning, remember.
Once more, his optimistic nature kicked in. He thought about some of the things that B'Elanna had shared about her Starfleet Academy Life. He smiled as the new thoughts began to overtake him, "On the other hand, Burke did dump her after he graduated in that other life. There's nothing to say it won't happen in this life. So maybe, I can have my cake and eat it too. If I make the Enterprise posting work, I can always find another way to meet her."
Feeling relaxed and somewhat confident once more, Tom grinned. Time to rewrite my past. Picking up his duffel bag, he practically sauntered through the exit.
Good intentions
It started with very good intentions … Sharon Ellis
Starfleet Headquarters, May 6, 2367
Alynna Necheyev smiled coolly as she looked towards the man coming into her office. Gracefully she stood and extended her hand. "Owen, thank you for coming to see me on such short notice."
Admiral Owen Paris nodded briskly back. "Your missive was quite vague, Alynna. Is there a problem?"
"I'm afraid so." Admiral Necheyev graciously indicated that he should take a seat. While he did so, Alynna studied the man who had been her first, and some would say only, real love. Time had not treated him kindly. Although well hidden, the ravages of his incarceration as a Cardassian POW had indelibly left their mark. As had the bad business with the Orion Syndicate when Tom had been a child.
She stiffened her spine with resolution. Owen would be the first person to say that there was no room for personal favouritism in Starfleet. And while she would have preferred to be having this conversation with just about anyone else, she did not make Admiral by being soft or avoiding the hard jobs. She got down to business.
"It's about your son, Thomas."
Owen Paris frowned in irritation. What now?
"Really Alynna, wouldn't this conversation be more appropriate to have on Friday at the End of Semester Staff Ball?"
"Unfortunately, Owen, in this instance, it would not. Six days ago, I answered a comm. call from Jean-Luc Picard. There had been a mistake made in Recruiting that he wanted followed up." Alynna passed a padd to Owen to look at. "Imagine my surprise when the mistake turned out to be a deliberate countermanding order by one of the Admirals currently stationed at the Academy."
Owen said nothing.
"Why Owen? Why would you interfere like that?"
Owen frowned at his fellow Admiral in disbelief. "Why? You should know why. You know how I feel about favouritism."
"Your son was offered a position on the Flagship, straight out of the Academy. How could you take that away from him?"
"Positions need to be earned, not handed out on a silver platter. What good would it possibly do for Tom's future to be given a position just because he's my son. The Caldik Prime position was legitimate, a position that was offered to Tom as the successful graduating Captain of the Nova Squadron."
"You make it sound like your son asked Captain Picard for the Enterprise position as a personal favour."
"And you don't? People wait for years to be offered a position on the Federation's Flagship. Tom shouldn't be offered it just because he's a Paris."
"It seems that Tom took his failure to secure a posting on the Enterprise personally. He requested feedback."
"Feedback?"
Alynna rose from her seat imperiously holding out a hand to prevent any further comments. With icy anger she spat out, "Tom was the first 2nd year Cadet in the last 50 years to make Captain of the Nova Squad. He broke almost every piloting record in the academy, and several graduate piloting records as well. Even Cole didn't manage that. Of course, he asked for feedback. Jean Luc personally – personally Owen – asked Tom to interview for that position. If the Captain of the Flagship approached me to interview for a position, and then I didn't get it, I would have sought feedback too."
Owen's mouth opened and shut in disbelief, but Alynna was angry and kept talking.
"Jean-Luc Picard saw Tom's potential. He wasn't the only one. However, since it wasn't exactly a secret, except to you apparently, that he intended head hunting Tom for the Enterprise, hardly anyone else bothered making an offer. Tom's good enough to have been offered the Enterprise Chief Conn straight out of the academy - if it had been available. It wasn't, so Jean-Luc offered him the next best thing. He should have been the primary Beta Shift Conn. Officer. He deserved to be."
Uncharacteristically, she slammed her fist down on the desk. "Instead, because of your interference that position has already been filled, and he's going to be spending the next few years relief piloting until another opportunity comes up. His career has been seriously negatively impacted."
Slamming down the padd, Owen Paris rose angrily to his feet with a roared, "What!"
"That's right." Alynna said sharply. "Two days ago, Tom shipped out to join the Enterprise as a tertiary relief pilot."
"That isn't possible. I sent his acceptance to Caldik Prime."
"And Tom rescinded it when Jean-Luc took him up on his request for a position, any other position, on the Enterprise."
Owen scowled. "But his career? Relief piloting, hell piloting in any manifestation, isn't a career. It's a dead-end trip to nowhere. Tom's brilliant enough to make Captain by 30. Why didn't he just go straight to command track like I suggested." Angrily, Owen stormed around the room, muttering ferociously to himself as he did so.
Alynna looked at Owen sadly. "Captain Jean-Luc Picard would disagree with you, Owen. As would his First Officer, Will Riker. Both of them started out as pilots. The only reason they're still in their current positions is because they too have turned down advancement positions in order to continue to serve on the Enterprise. In any case, it simply wasn't your decision to make."
Owen opened his mouth. Again, Alynna held up her hand. "I'm sorry, Owen. Favouritism is not sanctioned in Starfleet. Neither is personal negative bias, no matter how well intentioned. Effective immediately, you are released from the advancement review process for Thomas Eugene Paris."
Owen froze, his face white with shock. "You're reprimanding me?" His voice was a harsh whisper.
Alynna stiffened even straighter. "This will not be entered into your personal file as an official reprimand. However, I suggest you take the warning seriously. Don't use official channels to guide your sons' career again. Either of them." If possible, Owen's face went even whiter. I can't believe she said that in an official briefing. Yes, Nick is my biological son. Yes, I've admitted it privately. But, not officially. Never officially.
Alynna's eyes flickered briefly, as they filled with compassion. "I'm sorry, Owen. That's the way it is going to have to be." Owen flinched as he saw the uncommon show of feeling. He swallowed back the hurt, knowing that Alynna hated dealing with the softer side of her nature as much as he did. It had been one of the primary reasons they'd broken up. He too stiffened his spine, finding refuge once more in protocol. "Aye, Sir," he replied.
Alynna hesitated, but it had all been said. Too many times. "Dismissed," she curtly ordered.
Owen nodded in response. With nothing left to say, he quickly departed, poker face intact.
I really am sorry, Owen, Alynna thought quietly. But if you were honest with yourself you would admit that it was the only choice possible. In the circumstances.
Owen strode quickly to the turbolift, determined to put the last fifteen minutes behind him. Ruthlessly, he dismissed Tom from his thoughts. Right now, he had bigger problems. Julia will be annoyed when she finds out. She won't like how this is going to affect Nick. And I'm late for the welcome home dinner party. Not good. Not good, at all. Especially since Nick's going to be there.
STA Season 2 Teaser
USS Desiree. Enroute to Caldik Prime, Via starbase 220.
May 6, 2367. 7pm.
Tom groaned as he regained consciousness.
"Ahh, you're awake."
The unfamiliar voice had Tom sitting up faster than was wise and the room spun. "Aargh, stop the merry-go-round. I want to get off." A hypospray was pressed against his neck and blackness rose to greet him as he lost consciousness once more.
Two hours later, the Doctor gave his report to the Captain. "There was some serious swelling and bleeding on the brain due to being struck with a projectile flying at full velocity. It was touch and go for a moment. However, due to an amazing piece of surgery on my part, nothing that couldn't be corrected. In fact, apart from a trifling case of temporary amnesia, Ensign Paris is fit to return to limited duty with supervision."
"You don't think the amnesia is going to be a problem?"
"Not at all. I expect his memory to fully return in the next few days. In any event his cognitive abilities have not been impaired.
"Thank you, Doctor. Please have Ensign Paris report to the Bridge as soon as he is dressed."
The way we were
A.N. Chapter title taken from the song performed by Barbara Streisand
May 4, 2367
USS Desiree, enroute to Caldik Prime (via Starbase 220 to rendezvous with the Enterprise)
"Only you, Paris." Charlie punched his friend Tom gently on the arm. "Our last two days together before going our separate ways and you get yourself almost killed on the holodeck."
"Just count yourself lucky that seeing your ugly mug helped me regain some of my memories. Lucky for you we've been friends since high school otherwise I wouldn't bother." Tom returned the favour and punched Charlie in the arm. Charlie shoved him. Tom got up and advanced toward his friend.
"What are you idiots doing?"
Guiltily, both men looked to the door where Charlie's girlfriend Odile was glowering angrily. "Tom is only three hours out of major brain surgery and you're both fighting?"
"A most illogical choice of activities."
As Charlie hurried to make his excuses, Tom racked his brain to put a name to face as the most beautiful Vulcan he had ever met walked into the room behind Odile. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"No, you do not. I am Vorinna, Odile's cabinmate for this journey."
"Oh! Well in that case, I'm pleased to meet you." Tom smiled his most brilliant smile toward the Vulcan.
"Odile informs me that you were injured in the incident earlier when the holodeck malfunctioned and the safeties failed."
"Yep, that was me."
"But you have your memories back now?"
"Not really. It's very patchy. I remember my early childhood, and certain events like becoming friends with Charlie and Odile. But most of my life is still missing. The ship's doctor believes that I don't want to remember. I don't know why not, though. I mean, looking at my records, I've had an almost totally charmed life."
"Well never mind all that," said Odile, "It's dinner time. Tom, be a gentleman and escort Vorinna." Odile slid her arm through Charlie's arm as she spoke and then leaned over for a kiss. "Let's go. I've heard great things about the chef here on The Desiree."
Attempting to recover memories
A.N. There are two versions of this chapter.
This is the PG friendly extracted version. It may contain triggers as it references acts of torture and sexual abuse of children. Although I hope that nothing is too physically graphic, it is intended to show the extreme emotional trauma experienced by Tom as a child.
I realize that this is not a pleasant subject and it was actually very hard to write which is why it has taken me so long to publish this chapter, so please be gracious in your reviews.
The full version (T rating) will be published separately as it is much more graphic and detailed than this one.
Spoiler. This event takes place before the TNG episode, 'The Host' which was the episode that introduced the Trill species. It was during this episode that the facts surrounding the existence of the Trill symbiont was made 'public' in Starfleet.
FYI. The child version of Tom will be referred to as Tommy.
May 6, 2367
USS Desiree, enroute to Caldik Prime (via Starbase 220 to rendezvous with the Enterprise
"Are you sure, Thomas? This will be my first attempt at initiating a mind meld with a non-Vulcan. Also, I have never performed a mind meld unsupervised before.
"I'm sure. I hate not remembering my past."
"Very well, let us begin."
Vorinna guided Tom through the initial steps and soon they were in Tom's childhood. Vorinna and Tom quickly traversed the baby and toddler years.
Without warning Vorinna lost control of the meld. She and Tom now found themselves merging to become unwilling guests within the mind of a five-year-old-Tommy; sharing his thoughts and feelings but unable to influence the memory they were trapped in…..
Tommy laughed as he ducked into the abandoned building. He had the perfect hiding spot. His sisters would never find him here. Coming to the end of the corridor he opted for the left room and rushed in. He quickly realized that the room wasn't empty and skidded to a halt.
Deep green eyes pleaded with him. He gasped at the sight of his sister's classmate held restrained by a hulking, green, fat man. Instinct warred with fear. Fear won. He turned to flee.
Acute agony arced through every part of his body, paralysing it. He fell to the ground, face first. He wanted to cry out, to scream. But not even his vocal chords worked.
Helpless rage filled him as his body refused to respond to his desire to move and escape.
"Tom, come out here now!" Tommy breathed with relief as he heard his father's angry shout. Help was on the way.
The green man grabbed both Tommy and the bound teenager. "Vahr, three to beam up immediately."
The transporter beam was still initiating as Tommy's father stormed into the room. Fearful blue eyes stared into shocked grey ones. The room disappeared.
The vision reinitialized into a later memory situated approximately a week into the kidnapping. Tommy and twelve other children were caught behind a forcefield, locked into tiny stacked cages like animals. They were all faced outwards, their backs against the cage walls with barely enough room to breathe, let alone move.
So far, in the scheme of things, Tommy had been lucky. The slavers had been too busy for the last week to bother with him and the other caged children. They were fed a small amount of food and water each day but otherwise ignored. However, Tommy was no longer ignorant of the new life in store for him. Each one of them had a prime view what was happening on the other side of the forcefield.
The teenage girl who'd been kidnapped with him was dead. She and several of the older kids had tried to escape.
On the other side of the forcefield, the last of the escapees to be punished, an Andorian, was still holding onto life, his limp unconscious form being held upright by two hulking Orions. The head slaver flicked his gaze to the young med student cowering in the corner. "Fix him." The Andorian was dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes and the slavers exited the cargo hold.
Time shifted. Another day had been and gone in the vision. Vorinna tried desperately to break the meld but was unable to do so.
The cargo doors reopened. The slaver and his friends walked in. The slaver grabbed the med student by the arm and harried him over to the Andorian. "Wake him."
The slavers now changed to phase two tactics. It became less about punishment and more about turning the Andorian into a marketable asset.
"Tom, this is too much. We need to stop the meld."
Tom ignored her, frozen in the horror of his memory. Mercifully, though, the next images were quickly flicked through.
More time passed and then slowed down once more.
A Trill woman walked into the cargo bay. She nodded to the guards. The forcefield was removed. One of the cages was opened and a girl taken out. An hour later, another girl was taken.
The images sped up as the pattern was repeated. Compliant children were rewarded. The ones who fought their fate died from their injuries and were vaporized.
Then it was young Tommy being removed from the cage and time slowed once more. Stoically, he said nothing as he was showered and changed.
Tom, sharing the vision with Vorinna spoke softly. "I learnt several valuable lessons from the traders: never let your pain show, never beg, and never show your true thoughts or emotions. But I knew my dad and Starfleet would rescue me and I was determined to live long enough to be found."
They followed as Tommy was walked through a corridor.
The ship shuddered and tilted. The emergency klaxons sounded. Immediately the Trill grabbed Tommy's arm even tighter and changed direction. Tommy was herded into an escape shuttle.
Finally, the Orion slave trader who'd kidnapped Tommy entered and the door was slammed shut. The trader took the pilot seat and soon they were abandoning ship. Watching through the window, Tommy saw the main ship explode. The other escape shuttle, caught in the explosion, became a fireball and shot across the bow of their ship. The shuttle shuddered as the trader tried to avoid the fire ball, failed, and lost control of the vessel. Tommy watched in fatalistic fascination as they plunged into the atmosphere of a quickly approaching planet and the ground came to meet them.
Again, the vision jumped.
They appeared in a cave.
The Trill slave trader started screaming.
Time jumped.
Tom narrated.
"She was injured, after all. Without the proper equipment to correct the internal bleeding, it soon became obvious that the Trill host would not survive the day's end.''
Vorinna was pondering Tom's use of the word 'host'
even as the slaver with the crushed leg turned the gun on the medic, commanding him to implant his Trill girlfriend's symbiont into the Vulcan girl.
"It's considered the highest honour in Trill to be chosen as a host. This Trill murdered the Vahr symbiont's previous host and stole the symbiont for herself."
The medical student was trying to refuse to perform the operation, but the Vulcan girl agreed to become the host.
Tom once again explained. "The needs of the many. She's a diplomat's daughter, from a family of diplomats. Her grandmother was the Vulcan ambassador to Trill. She was travelling with her grandmother when their shuttle was hijacked. Right now, she's carrying her grandmother's Katra."
Vorinna was unable to hold in her shock at Tom's casual knowledge and mention of a very private Vulcan ritual.
Tom grinned knowingly at her and continued speaking.
"The Vulcan girl was hoping that the presence of her grandmother's katra would give her the edge she needed to be the dominant influence in the new joined personality. She knew that, not being a Trill, she would not survive long. But maybe it would be enough to even the odds and give me and the Andorian boy a chance to escape and be saved."
The Trill trader screamed as she was cut open and the symbiont removed.
The young Vulcan girl flinched, and Tommy grabbed her hand
while adult Tom continued his narration.
"There was no medication to ease the pain of the surgery. She had been unable to ignore her fear and the pain. I held her hand during the procedure to "help her" while she centred herself in a Vulcan trance. For a while, it seemed that everything would be fine and the operation a success. But then something went wrong. Both Vahr, that's the symbiont's name; and Ti'Raen, the Vulcan girl, knew that neither would make it. Because I was holding onto her hand the autonomous activation of the Katra transfer bond targeted me as the recipient. But it occurred simultaneously within the trill symbiont merging bond. When it happened the two rituals merged and morphed into a completely new and unique process."
As his five-year-old brain overloaded under the onslaught, Tommy passed out unconscious on the ground.
Vorinna felt overwhelmed as a cascade of Tommy's memories flashed by in rapid succession:
The death of the medic.
The near catatonic state of the Andorian boy.
Struggling to survive until the rescue.
Being rescued by an unknown alien race.
A year and a half of life spent with the aliens before being returned home.
Delivering Ti'Raen and her grandmother Ke'thia katras to the hall of memory.
Tom's memories were returning in a flood.
With a jolt, Vorinna found herself back in Tom's shared quarters on the Desiree, the mind meld abruptly terminated. She blinked as she felt autonomous mental barriers rising up, cutting off the memories and causing the mental anguish to dissipate. Tom's fingers left her face and she realised that it was Tom who had halted the mind meld, who had raised the mental barrier between them. It was Tom, an unnatural calm covering him, who moved to a standing, upright position first.
Finally, Tom started the conversation. "Are you alright?"
"I am unharmed." In fact, Vorinna was lying and was totally overwhelmed by the multiple sets of memories that had rushed through the mind meld. The knowledge that she had unknowingly tread upon a taboo subject was disquieting. The understanding of her parents' cautions regarding the use of the mind meld had come too late. Now all that was left was to minimize the damage.
"And you Tom? You are well?"
"Yes. My memories have basically returned. Thank you."
Vorinna nodded stiffly, desperately trying to maintain the illusion of Vulcan stoic calm.
Tom was hesitant as he spoke. "I believe that Vulcan tradition, and our personal safety, would best be served if we both agree to never discuss this incident again. To each other or anyone else."
Vorinna was quick to reply. "I concur. As soon as possible I will perform the Te fen Nal to erase the memory of this event. Given my intended career it would not be … appropriate for me to retain this knowledge." Vorinna looked away and then back at Tom. "It would be best if we terminate our acquaintance immediately."
"Yes. That would be the most logical course to follow in the circumstances."
"Yes." Vorinna moved to the door. "Good bye, Tom Paris. Live long and prosper."
"Peace and long life, Vorinna."
Tom waited until the murmur of voices stilled and the sound of the door shutting indicated that Vorinna had left. He exited the bathroom.
Charlie and Odile were forlornly seated on the couch, distressed by Vorinna's abrupt and silent exit. Tom retreated into his standard persona mode. "Come on, you two, I disembark in three hours. Let's go have a farewell drink together at the bar."
A.N.
I wanted to add a story spoiler and say that not all of Tom's memories have returned at this point. He just thinks they have.
FYI.
The Trill's zhian'tara ritual is roughly similar to the Vulcan fal-tor-pan ritual, since both enable the respective species to perform a synaptic pattern displacement, the transfer of what could be considered as a soul (katra, pagh, etc.).
The Te fen Nal is something that I made up, although given that mind melds can be used to erase memories, I'm sure a self-erasing-memory procedure is totally possible.