Stardate 48319.1
Part Twelve: Back to the Array.
AN: I've almost finished writing this story and will be posting the rest of the chapters over the next two weeks. I'm not sure what you'll think of this section, I've plumbed the depths of Tom's insecurities and offered alternative explanations for the decision in his life which brought him to this point. I hope I haven't tortured him too much. Then again, I see Tom Paris as a very hurt and tortured soul. I'm thinking of writing several short stories about meeting B'Elanna, Caldik Prime and their marriage. Let me know if you want the history.
Beep, beep, beep.
The incessant sound broke into his sleep and wouldn't stop. Warm and sleeping peacefully for the first time in several nights, Tom managed to rouse himself from the comfortable bed. He felt the mattress dip beside him as B'Elanna woke in her usual fashion, immediately and on high alert. A smile covered his face, remembering other mornings, then reality and that annoying sound intruded on his daydream.
Even though they'd been expecting the tricorder's alarm, it came in the early hours of the city's night. Disgruntled with their progress in the Caretaker's transporter receiving room last evening, the couple returned to their small apartment discouraged. Changing, they headed for the courtyard to share one of the Ocampan's nutritious meals replacements. Both tired and on edge, there was little to do but wait and even less to talk about. They were in a holding pattern.
Four nights spent on the couch had taken its tole on Tom's emotional psyche. He eyed the sofa warily when they returned to their quarters. Understanding the next day might change the basis of their relationship forever, it had been B'Elanna who suggested Tom join her in the bed. Accepting the offer, he didn't need to be told to keep his hands to himself. Any kind of intimacy wouldn't be appreciated, nor would it be appropriate if they had to go their separate ways in the very near future. The thought kept both awake and battling their insecurities, just when they'd rekindled the attraction that brought them together in the first place.
"First time I get to share a bed with my wife in over a year," Tom groaned, leaving the rest of the suggestive sentence hanging. That wife wouldn't appreciate his sense of humour at this hour. Nor would she appreciate the biological arousal that visited most men on waking. Hiding beneath the covers, Tom waited for her retort which was sure to kill his ardour.
"Don't count on it happening again, any time soon," B'Elanna responded automatically, already half way across the room. Taking the tricorder from the table, she analysed the data. A surprised expression entered her eyes. "Voyager and Val Jean were in orbit nearly fifteen hours ago. Captain Janeway acknowledged receiving your messing and has accepted our plan. Both ships have set a course back to the array. Come on Tom, we have work to finish if we're gong to make this timeline."
"Why the delay in the signal?" He asked, scratching his head and moving slowly.
"It might have had something to do with the data stream taking up so much of the computing power. The response from the terminal in the Journal room decreased the minute the array realigned. Come on Flyboy, we don't have any time to lose," B'Elanna threw the long over-shirt the Ocampan's wore at her husband. In the past he'd slept naked, they both had, when sharing a bed. Ignoring the possibilities surrounding that thought, B'Elanna explained, "the Caretaker might shut down the transporter network once he's done sending data and we could be trapped here."
That got his attention. It didn't take long for them to gather their packs and head back to the room down the corridor. Pulling the tricorder to pieces, B'Elanna found the component she wanted.
"What are you going to do with that," Tom asked, intrigued.
"This," she smiled up from the open console beneath the station he'd been working at yesterday, "is going to cause the feed back loop. I've been thinking about the system all night and the solution just came to me. I'm not sure how long we're going to have before this technology senses the intrusion, so we're going to have to be ready to transport the minute I get the device hooked up."
"You want to go now?" He asked, attempting to hide is shock. "We got at least five hours to wait on that array before Voyager and Val Jean will be in transporter range."
"If the technology is the same as here," B'Elanna's voice echoed from her current location, "I'm hoping to find a way to get us home."
Time to poke around in the Caretaker's computer system, Tom should have realised the engineer in his wife wouldn't be happy unless she could get at least some of the data back to their ships.
Suddenly any shred of hope died. Thomas Eugene Paris's throat closed over as the lump inside threatened to strangle him. Had she been watching, B'Elanna would have seen her husband deflate before her eyes. Returning to the Alpha quadrant seemed to be the fastest way to kill every one of his dreams, dreams that had slowly been reemerging the longer they spent together. Swallowing hard, fingers shaking, he lent on the panel before him as reality rudely intruded.
"I'm setting the coordinates," he offered, his voice strangely subdued. The light in his clear blue eyes faded and Tom Paris became a shadow of his former self. He felt the mental blood draining from his mind, and his body closing down behind it.
"Done," B'Elanna announced, rising from the floor and bouncing toward the transporter pad.
"I'm going to energise from here," Tom managed, refusing to make eye contact and let her see his intentions.
"You'd better move quick, Tom," B'Elanna responded automatically. It took several seconds to understand his body language and the reason for his unusual behaviour. Growling, she stepped on the transporter pad and declared, "I'm not leaving you behind."
Smirking sadly, he finally allowed his eyes to rest on her. This was the moment of truth and he couldn't let it pass with out telling her how he felt. "Would it be so bad," he offered in a soft tone, his eyes pools of misery. "All your problems would be solved, B'El. You could move on with your life and, you know, this place is not so bad."
"Don't you do this," B'Elanna shouted, marching off the platform and facing him with very little space between them, "not now. I'm not going to be shoved into another life pod and told you love me, not knowing what happened to you for months."
"What do you want from me, B'Elanna," Tom's desperation suddenly welled into an uncontrollable fury at the universe. "I can't do this again. I can't. It almost broke me last time. My only conciliation was knowing I saved your life, that you were out there somewhere. I was stuck in a mental straight jacket for the first three months of my incarceration, medicated so I wouldn't do anything stupid. Every mistake I ever made came back to haunt me each time I closed my eyes. What do I have to look forward to, but more of the same, if I step on that transporter pad?"
Shocked didn't begin to describe B'Elanna's reaction. "I don't know," she offered in a humble tone, unable to look at him. The expression had been heartbreaking. The one emotion that trumped all the others was her love for him. She'd never stopped. For the first time it quashed the fear of abandonment, his and hers both, held her anger dead in it's tracts and filled that lonely place she'd ignored in her heart for so long. Finding the courage with a deep breath and exhalation, B'Elanna Torres made the only declaration she could. "I can't promise you anything, Tom. I don't know what the future holds. All you can do is take a leap of faith with me and hope, because I love you too, we can conquer everything else together."
"What if its not enough," Tom's voice was hoarse with emotion. He knew what those words cost her. Abandonment was B'Elanna's biggest fear and here he was, about to abandon her once again, even if it was for all the right reasons.
Holding out her hand, she felt vulnerable, exposed in a way she'd never let herself be. She could see the understanding in her husbands eyes. "Then I'll have to have enough for both of us," B'Elanna stated.
Nodding, Tom found it within himself to encompass her smaller digits in his. It wasn't nearly enough contact. Pulling B'Elanna in, he embraced her, one hand tightening around her waist, the other at the back of her neck. Their foreheads touched as he breathed hard, attempting to keep his emotions under control.
"We have to go," B'Elanna tried to sound comforting, but time was their enemy.
"I know," Tom sighed, untangling himself with reluctance.
Grabbing her hand, his look stated they'd do this together or die trying. Gathering his courage, Tom located the transporter control, engaging it with a single, smooth motion. They made it to the pad just as the whine of the demolecularisation beam commenced. Capturing the pair, their organic structure transferred into the buffer on the station. They reappeared in the front yard of a white washed, twentieth century farm house.
"We're on the array," B'Elanna stated. "I remember this place."
Nodding, Tom led the way to the barn he knew was around the back. It had been subtly altered. Going to the back wall, his hands explored and found a panel that looked out of place among the hay and animals. It's flashing lights and uniform grey colour stated a purpose other than decoration.
"This is where the Caretaker kept you and the other Maquis," Tom remembered the exact moment the door opened. B'Elanna had almost been within touching distance. "It has to be a medical laboratory of some kind. If we can get beyond this room, maybe you can access the computer system and find out why the Caretaker abducts people and what the test are for," Tom spoke clearly, although anyone who knew him understood the lack of emotion demonstrated his continuing vulnerability.
Ignoring her rapidly beating heart, and the unbidden images that assaulted her, B'Elanna took a look at the panel. Muttering under her breath, she wished for a tricorder or some tools to work with. Placing her hand against the scanner, more out of hope, a door making up the back wall of the barn suddenly opened. Shocked, Tom and B'Elanna glanced at each other before approaching the long hallway.
Silently they walked down the corridor, alcoves capable of holding a being on each side lay dormant. Memories of their pain and suffering were accepted with a simple contact of one's hand in the others. As was the acknowledgement that whatever the Caretaker was looking for, he'd found in them.
"Why?" B'Elanna asked. "Why do you think he did it?"
Shuddering, Tom had been considering the same question. He didn't like the direction his thoughts travelled. Yet the growing bank of evidence was leading to one indisputable conclusion, the Caretaker had their DNA. What he might do with a married couples DNA, given they refused to copulate while in the Ocampan City, didn't need to much consideration.
"Maybe we'll never know," eyes bright and sparkling with suppressed anger, Tom answered his wife in a soothing tone. "I'm more concerned about how easily we've managed to return to the array and why we've been granted access into the stations inner workings."
"Next door we come to," B'Elanna sighed, "see if you can open it."
Giving his wife an incredulous look, Tom wondered if she had come to the same theory. It didn't take long. Approaching the end of the hall, another panel hung on the wall. This time Tom placed his hand against the cool glass. The door opened immediately. The white room beyond was featureless, until they stepped inside.
On a whim, B'Elanna called, "computer, where are we."
"You are in the extraction chamber," the neutral voice stated.
"Can you show us a schematic of the array," Tom asked, hoping the system would accept his input as easily as B'Elanna's.
A door opened to the left. "Please proceed to the main memory core data retrieval room."
Wordlessly they stared at each other. Agreement in their gaze, Tom and B'Elanna stepped into the unknown. Door after door slid aside as they approached, requesting they take the designated path to their chosen destination. If either thought to question the computer further, neither voiced the idea.
"You have reached your destination," the voice stated. "Array schematics able to be accessed by Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres are displayed."
"What do you mean schematics able to be accessed?" B'Elanna demanded.
"Life support systems for bipedal humanoids is limited to the designated areas," it answered.
"Are the energy collectors malfunctioning?" Torres asked, her engineering mind looking at this problem from a technical prospective. B'Elanna noticed the understanding in Tom's expression. If the array had become damaged, perhaps it was no longer capable of collecting dark matter.
"Negative," came the frustratingly short answer.
"I don't understand," B'Elanna tried again, holding back her frustration. "Why is over three quarters of the array closed to us if energy isn't an issue."
"Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres are granted access to the following areas," the computer insisted.
Intrigued, Tom asked, "can you open up another terminal with spacial data for one hundred thousand kilometres surrounding this array."
"Tom," B'Elanna questioned his reasoning with the tone of her voice, as the computer complied with Paris's request.
"Just a hunch," he managed an ironic smile, turning towards the ball of space that appeared. "I think Voyager and Val Jean are within sensor range. Here," he pointed to two small craft approaching the station at a rapid rate. "The areas we are allowed access too, they're in the middle of the array, keeping us safe if there's an attack."
"The approaching vessels are Kazon raiders," the computer stated.
"An interactive system," B'Elanna frowned. "I should have known. The computer on the Ocampa world is modelled off this unit. Computer, why were Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres separated from their shipmates and sent to the Ocampan City?"
"Access to that information is denied," the voice sounded slightly annoyed.
"Looks like you struct a nerve," Tom's smile finally became genuine, until his own theory killed any hope of teasing B'Elanna. "Let's try this from a different angle. Will the Caretaker send us back to the Ocampan City?"
"The probability approaches zero," the computer answered.
"So, we're prisoners on the array," he persisted.
"You are honoured guests."
"That sounds familiar," B'Elanna folded her arms across her chest and frowned. "At least we've made it from the planet to the array. All right then, were is the transporter room?"
"The transporter system is now inoperative," answered the computer.
"Can we send a sub space message to our ship?" Tom asked.
"Access denied."
B'Elanna sent him a look that said, what now?
"We're not going to find anything out from here," Tom considered their next move carefully. "If Voyager sends an away team, their likely to beam into the location with the farm holo program. I think were better off going to that location and waiting for our people. Computer," he requested as an after thought, "can we access your files from anywhere on the array."
"Yes."
"Please lead us back to the holosuite and relay the spacial data to the porch of the house. Oh, a glass of lemonade and some of those cookies wouldn't go astray!"
Rolling her eyes, B'Elanna had trouble believing this was the same man who almost sacrificed himself an hour ago. Taking her hand before she could pull away, Tom led them back down the endless corridors and through empty rooms. Sure enough, Aunt Adah was waiting for them, just as she had been on their first appearance.
"Come on, now," she greeted cheerfully. "I have a pitcher of lemonade and some sugar cookies all laid out. Your room's been aired and is ready and waiting. I'm sure you'll want to rest before dinner. The neighbours are coming to welcome you home."
"Thank you," Tom's polite smiled didn't reach his eyes. Whispering into B'Elanna's ear, he requested, "just go along with it."
Growling low in her throat, his wife demonstrated her dissatisfaction in the only way possible. Pulling her hand away from his grasp, B'Elanna threw herself into the nearest seat. Becoming defensive, her body language told Tom to stay clear unless he wanted to bear the consequences.
"You married a feisty one," Aunt Adah commented with a chuckle. "Keeps life interesting, I dare say."
Even Tom wouldn't touch that with a barge pole. Sighing, he took a seat at the opposite end of the table. Looking out at the view, he wondered how long they'd have to wait for Voyager to rescue them.
