AN: Juddysbuddy: It is great to see Tom and B'Elanna working together so well and beginning to get back their relationship. Apparently, they didn't really spend a lot of time together during their marriage, so they need to get to know each other better. Having to keep sex out of the equation for now might help them with that.
I couldn't have summarised it better myself. So far we've only seen what's occurring to our couple. It's time to take a look at the bigger picture.
Stardate 48314.4
Part Nine: Complications
"I have encountered no humanoid lifeforms in our exploration of the array, Captain," Tuvok stated, a tricorder still humming in his hand. Along with one of the Maquis crew members, he joined the remainder of the away team. The Vulcan's eyes constantly scanned either their surroundings or his devices readout to ensure the parties safety. "Mr. Paris and Miss Torres are not within scanning range. Therefore, I believe it is logical to conclude they may not be on the array. Also, the pulses directed at the fifth planet of a nearby star system are continuing to increase in frequency."
The same early 20th century holographic program continued to play from their last visit to the array. A white washed farmhouse took centre stage. So far Janeway and Chakotay hadn't come across any of the previous inhabitants. Walking around the building they uncovered an elderly gentleman sitting on a wooden bench, starring into the vista beyond.
"He can tell us where they are," Chakotay stated, marching over to the loan individual. He appeared to be the only character remaining from their last sojourn.
Captain Janeway became cautions. Turning to her team, both Starfleet and Maquis, she ordered, "he seems as good a place to start as any. Maintain your comm links. I don't want to lose anyone else."
Appearing somewhat content, the gentleman finally finished his introspection and looked up. "Oh, why have you come back?" He asked, a little aggravated but completely unconcerned. Only half of his attention was focused on this group. His true form was still in the laboratory, eagerly awaiting the results of his latest tests.
The Caretaker had separated the sporocystian infused blastocyst into individual cells. So far only four had survived the procedure. Currently they were undergoing rapid division. However, he felt at least half would not survive the current treatment. He only required one, and it would soon be ready for an incubation chamber. Another time cycle and his search might be complete. Of course, if two survived, it would mean his offspring would have each other for company.
"I want our people back," Janeway declared, drawing the elderly man's attention back to the present, "and I want us all to be sent home."
"Oh, well now," the old man smiled easily, examining the group before him as if specimens under a microscope, "aren't you contentious for a minor bipedal species?"
"This minor bipedal species doesn't take kindly to being abducted," Janeway returned with more than a little heat in her tone.
"Oh," the Caretaker returned his attention to his surroundings, "it was necessary."
"Where is B'Elanna?" Chakotay enquired softly. Holding in his fury, the Maquis Captain sat on the opposite wooden bench. The though of the man she might be trapped with sent arrows of regret directly to his heart. He'd always seen the half Klingon misfit as a younger and very innocent sister, and protected her accordingly.
"Tuvok, is that what you call the calm one," the Caretaker pointed to the Vulcan, "has logically concluded they are no longer here. I believe I concur with his logic."
"What," Janeway allowed her eyebrows to rise in irritation, "have you done with Paris and Torres?"
"So that is the names you use for them?" A banjo suddenly appeared in the Caretaker's arms. He strummed a discordant note from the instrument before turning his dark eyes on Janeway. "You don't have what I need. They might. No, you'll have to leave them. The individuals I have come to know as B'Elanna and Tom are safe. The Ocampa are taking good care of them."
"We can't leave B'Elanna and Paris in your care," Chakotay stated, an edge in his voice as he thought of the two together again. Conformation that the man with B'Elanna was the one that betrayed them, and her in particular, caused an irrational moment of anger. As B'Elanna's friend, he would stop at nothing to get his engineer back and away from the man who broke her heart.
Agreeing with the Maquis officer, Janeway added, "we are their commanding officers. We are entrusted with their safety. They are our responsibility. That may be a concept you don't understand."
A neurotic chuckle escaped the Caretaker. "Oh, I do understand, more than you could ever comprehend. But I have no choice. There's just not enough time left."
"Captain," Tuvok suddenly broke into the conversation, "I am receiving a spurious reading. It appears there are now traces of DNA from our crew members on board the array. I do not understand why I was unable to detect it before, unless…"
"What it is, Tuvok," Janeway looked anxious.
"Permission to…" the security officer never got to reply. His form suddenly dematerialised.
"Janeway to Voyager," the Captain hit her com badge. "Is Mr. Tuvok aboard?"
"I have been returned to the ship, Captain," came Tuvok's unemotional voice. "I believe I know why, however you and Mr. Chakotay will be trapped on the array if I were to inform you. There is a high probability the entity will cease all communications…"
"I must honour a debt that can never be repaid," the Caretaker looked up at Janeway with a pious expression, breaking her link with Tuvok, "but my search has not been going well."
"Tell us what you're looking for," she softened her voice as she sat on the bench seat beside the elderly gentleman. "Maybe we can help you find it."
"You?" He gave an almost hysterical laugh. "I've searched the galaxy with methods beyond your comprehension. No, there's nothing you can do. Or perhaps," he looked at the two remaining individuals, "I can help you go home."
Understanding completely, Janeway and Chakotay glanced at each other. "We are not leaving our people here," Kathryn stated harshly. "We all go home together."
"Have it your way," the Caretaker waved his arm. The remainder of the party disappeared in a beam of light, only to find themselves on the bridge of Voyager.
Infuriated by the entity, Captain Janeway didn't flinch so much as a muscle at the change in her surroundings. Looking around her domain, Mr. Tuvok had the crew working to maximum efficiency, even with several stations unmanned. The senior officer raised a Vulcan eyebrow, stating he was working on a theory. Proud of the way her very junior personnel preformed under the current challenges, she turned to the Maquis Captain standing beside her.
"Mr. Chakotay, I would like to speak with you in my ready room," Janeway ordered, giving Tuvok a nod. Her security chief understood the command, as did the ex-Starfleet officer. "Mr. Rollins, you have the bridge."
"Aye, Captain," the young Ensign offered.
When they were seated, Kathryn offered Chakotay a drink. He refused politely, vigilantly observing his surroundings. While waiting for Tuvok to complete his calculations, she sipped her coffee and took the man's measure.
"Thank you for humouring me, Mr. Chakotay," Janeway stalled.
The Maquis captain nodded, waiting patiently. Well aware of Starfleet protocol, and Tuvok's personality, he chose to remain silent. It didn't seem to bother Janeway, as the protagonists used the time to observe their opponent turned temporary conspirator.
"Captain, I believe we have a problem," the security officer stated the moment he walked in the room and the doors closed behind him. A nod from his superior and Tuvok knew he could speak freely. "The traces of Mr. Paris and Miss Torres's DNA uncovered on the array were replicating at a rapid rate."
"He was cloning them," Chakotay asked, a muscle in his cheek twitching.
"I believe procreating would be a better description," Tuvok answered, including the Maquis officer in his briefing. "I have analysed the results and can only conclude that the Caretaker has used gametes from Mr. Paris and Miss Torres to create a new individual. Only when the mass of organic material became sufficient did the tricorder signal the possibility of another life form on the array. I have recalculated all the variables and conclude there is a 97% chance that at least one embryo has been created. Any less than a hundred cell organism would not be adequate for detection by our current technology."
Shocked, Janeway looked to Chakotay. "Thank you Mr. Tuvok. Please return to your station."
"Captain," he hesitated only a moment, "there is more."
"What," unable to contain his anger, Chakotay shot to his feet, "more could there be. You just told us this entity had removed genetic material from my engineer and Paris to create their child. Why would he do that?"
"I believe the entity is attempting to procreate by overlaying his own life energy on the human embryo," Tuvok dropped his bombshell, "thereby creating a hybrid physical/energy being. His progeny, if you will. For some reason unknown only to the entity, it seems the unique combination of Mr. Paris and Miss Torres genetics are required to complete the process successfully."
"Why?" Kathryn asked, astonished. "I am sure you have come up with a theory, Mr. Tuvok."
"As to the identity of the physical individuals, I have not. However, the increasing rate of energy pulses from the array, the comments concerning a debit of honour and not enough time have led me to the conclusion that the Caretaker is dying. He is attempting to produce an offspring capable of continuing this debit of honour for at least another generation, possibly longer with a corporal form as his child will have the ability to breed. In such a situation, it would seem logical that Mr. Paris and Miss Torres are being kept on the planet receiving the energy pulses against their will should these attempts fail," Tuvok concluded.
"I agree," Janeway responded. "Set a course for that planet."
"Aye, Captain," Tuvok still did not move. When his superior officer raised an eyebrow, reminiscent of a Vulcan, he continued. "The energy signature of the emissions has changed. We are unable to decode the data stream that accompanies the energy pulses. I must concluded that time is of the essence and the entity is downloading the array's databanks to the Ocampa home world."
After Tuvok left the room, Janeway sighed and slumped into her seat. Watching the Maquis Captain, she asked, "something on your mind, Mr. Chakotay?"
"Why did you bring Admiral Paris's son with you on this voyage?" He demanded. "Even out in the demilitarised zone, we knew of his trial and sentence."
"I was under orders," she smiled disarmingly, now the conversation turned to the topic Janeway wanted to discuss. "I know you understand Starfleet protocol, Mr. Chakotay, or should that be ex-Lt. Commander?"
"Did the Federation really hope Paris would be able to find us after being with the Maquis for such a short time?" He snarled, still pacing the ready room. "Well, I never trusted him from the start. Only B'Elanna's feelings…"
"It seems you engineer means a great deal to Thomas Paris, and you," Janeway commented, pausing to let her meaning gather weight, "on more than a professional level."
"B'Elanna's my second in command," Chakotay answered, his tone had become deadly quiet, "and my friend. I don't want to see her hurt by that, that man again."
"I know about their relationship," Janeway sighed, heavily this time. Folding her fingers, she rested the bridge of her nose on them for a moment.
The truth, she knew more than she'd ever wanted to know. Thomas Paris had been forced to give his wife's name before she could take Tom's unusual request to Starfleet for consideration. The meeting with Admiral Paris had not gone well after Tom's demand had been granted. Janeway learnt the Admiral knew of his son's involvement with B'Elanna Torres prior to his promotion and transfer to Caldik Prime. He'd also filled Janeway in with respect to Torres history at the academy. As many of the Maquis were either Starfleet dropouts or graduates, it shouldn't have been surprising. What caused the Captain some thought was Tom's enquiry about the possibility of being assigned married quarters on Caldik Prime and a position for his civilian partner.
"Related to Starfleet brass," Chakotay watched the emotions cross the captain's face with fascination. If he opened up enough, he hoped to get more information out of the woman. "He had to know he was suspect from the moment he joined the Maquis. We though he was a spy and the incident on Caldik Prime a ruse, to gain sympathy and acceptance."
"Tom was never a plant," Janeway offered with a slight frown. "I served with his father for many years. It seemed the Admirals expectations for his son were unobtainable. If I understand correctly, Tom never really wanted to be in Starfleet." Pausing, her eyes locked on those of her foe, "nor did B'Elanna Torres. That's when the relationship started." Quirking an eyebrow she added, "you didn't know it went that far back?"
"The reason we agreed to take Tom on," Chakotay ground out, "was B'Elanna total willingness to vouch for him."
"And you trusted her," Janeway asked.
"With my life," Chakotay answered without hesitation.
"When I pulled Tom out of prison and asked him to come on this mission," Janeway observed her opposition's reactions carefully, "initially I believed everything I'd been told or read about him. Mr. Paris warned me that he didn't know enough to help on our mission and reinforced my belief in his character." Once again pausing to let her words sink in, she asked, "do you have any idea what he asked for?"
"Latunim, a reduced sentence," Chakotay guessed. He knew his was wrong the moment the word left his mouth.
"The Federation was prepared to grant the latter. But, no," she paused to give her words extra meaning in this complex situation, "he requested a full pardon for a young Maquis woman, if she were ever taken into Federation custody."
Chakotay simply glared at her. It seemed he'd misjudged Paris's feelings toward B'Elanna, which brought his actions on the Liberty into new light. Torres had tried to tell him, to tell them all, that he wasn't the man they accused him of being. Only Chakotay hadn't listened and because of his prejudice, his crew had not completely trusted Paris either. He'd put B'Elanna in a very difficult position.
"What the hell are we going to do," Kathryn allowed her words to settle before speaking again, "when we get them back on board? My crew wont accepted a Maquis and I think Tom's burnt his bridged on both sides. Not to mention getting their combined genetic material off that array. There is no way I'm leaving their child to the mercies of that entity."
"Paris has always been a trouble magnet," Chakotay closed his eyes, desperately trying to work his way through the many layers of issues.
"True," Janeway agreed sadly, "but have you noticed that's he is always the one to pay the price for his mistakes, without involving anyone else."
Astonished, Chakotay had never made the link. Probably, he thought, because of his arrogant, self serving attitude and over confidence. I never could see what B'Elanna loved about him, or accept that their was more to the cocky SOB.
"Before you leave, Mr. Chakotay," she offered in an ironic tone, "if the entity can't or won't return us the alpha quadrant, what are we going to do? I can hardly lock your crew up in the brig for the next seventy five years."
"Two craft," Chakotay knew were her Starfleet mind was going on this one, "stand a better chance of survival than one alone in an uncharted quadrant of the galaxy."
"I see we understand one another completely, Mr. Chakotay," Kathryn smiled.
"Am I dismissed, Captain," Chakotay enquired sarcastically, his own mind awhirl with thoughts he didn't want to consider.
"Yes," she stated, turning her attention the console before her.
Holding his position at the entrance to her ready room exit, Chakotay shook his head. There were in this together, whether or not they wanted to be. Torres and Paris's disappearance had just complicated matters several levels of magnitude.
"What a mess," he muttered, before transporting back to his own vessel.
