CHAPTER 5 - REPERCUSSIONS
~~~~Brandy walks through a silent town
~~~~And loves a man who's not around
Two months later...
Flying away from Palmat in her little ship, B'Elanna's hand crept
to her abdomen. She patted her growing stomach in the circular
motion she had grown accustomed to since she found out she was
carrying Tom Paris' child.
At first B'Elanna had been surprised to find this unexpected
gift. She could have sworn that she was still protected from
pregnancy.
She remembered the initial shock she felt when she received the
news from Mroki's physician. Recalling the last time she had
received her birth control booster, she realized that she had
miscalculated. It was hard to think straight, when your world
was being turned upside down with hot and cold chills that felt
so damn good!
Her being pregnant though wasn't the reason for her departure
from Palmat. True to her word, she had planned on staying on the
planet until Tom could come for her--but the Cardassian's had
changed that.
About a month ago, the spoon-heads had attacked Palmat, thinking
it was a Maquis base. For over two weeks, they fired on the
planet. When they were through, thousands of people lay dead,
and many buildings were demolished--including Mroki's bar.
In the lull that followed the attack, B'Elanna decided, for the
safety of their child, she should leave before the Cardassians
returned to finish the job they started.
That's how she came to find herself flying through this region of
space, trying to avoid the Cardassians and find the Maquis, and
hopefully Tom Paris.
B'Elanna carefully watched her sensor readings and stayed away
from the heavier traveled trading lanes. And when it was time for
her to sleep she would find an asteroid or a moon to hide behind.
On her fourth day in space, B'Elanna picked up a strong signal
that was closing fast upon her. There was no doubt about it, it
was Cardassian, and it appeared to be zeroed in on her.
Should she try and outrun it? If she did, when they caught up
with her what would they do? B'Elanna had seen Alini and some of
the other prostitutes play innocent and how they got away with
it. Perhaps, if all else failed, this one time it would work for
her. It not, the dagger she slipped into her boot, would give
her a fighting advantage. So she maintained course and waited
and prayed.
* * * * * *
"Cap'n, Cardies' are closing on our position!"
Chakotay who had been seated at the helm, covering for the
missing pilot, nodded. His fingers tapped out commands on the
console.
"I see it," The Captain replied. "Changing course to vector
three point two."
At times like this, he could cheerfully strangle Tom Paris for
running out on them, when he was suppose to bring back help.
"Tuvok, raise the shields and prepare to ready the phasers."
{Paris had better pray that I never lay eyes on him again. But
at least I found the Vulcan. He almost makes up for the loss of
the pilot--too bad his speciality is weaponry and not flying.}
"Aye, Captain."
"Gerron looked up from the sensor array. "Cap'n, I don't think
the Cardies have spotted us yet."
"Explain." Chakotay barked. His fingers still keyed in commands
to the helm.
"There's another ship, sir," the young Bajoran said. "It's very
small--a three- to four-person shuttle at the most."
"Can you determine the origin of the ship, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked
addressing the Vulcan.
Tuvok analyzed the vessel carefully before he replied. "The
vessel is constructed of various parts of other ships, sir--some
are Terran, Betazoid, Romulan, as well as others I cannot
identify without further analysis."
"Any information on the crew?"
"Sensors are identifying only one person on the ship." Gerron
piped up. He looked toward Chakotay to gauge the older man's
reaction. "A Klingon-Human hybrid female."
Chakotay eyebrows shot up, Klingon-Human hybrids were rare, but
either way it was very likely that this woman wasn't an ally of
the Cardassians.
"Time until the Cardie's catch up with her?" The Captain asked.
Tuvok answered. "At their present rate of speed, forty-two
minutes, and tw..."
"Hail her on a secure channel and raise that cloaking device,"
Chakotay ordered interrupting the Vulcan. At least Paris had
accomplished something before he left, Chakotay mused. He had
obtained a slightly used, Romulan cloaking device during a card
game on Ferenginar. Of course, the damn thing wasn't one hundred
percent compatible with the Liberty and would only work for short
periods of time.
"Sir?"
"I'm not about to leave a woman or anyone else, alone to fend for
themselves against those bastards, Geron. Even if I have to use
the cloak, the Maquis didn't sign the Treaty of Algeron. I just
hope it will stay working until we can rescue her."
Gerron nodded. "Channel open, Cap'n, audio only though."
"Small ship, this is the Liberty. You appear to be in imminent
danger."
{The Liberty? It's Tom's ship!}
B'Elanna adjusted her communication system to scramble her
message before replying. "Yes, I am. You couldn't have come at
a better time. This is the..." B'Elanna had yet to think of a
name for her ship, but now she said the first thing that crossed
her mind...Well actually the first thing she thought of was Tom,
but Tom for some reason made her think of pigs...little pink
piglets were so adorable, just like him....and pigs made her
think of... "Liberty, this is the Targ."
"Targ, do you require assistance?"
"I would greatly appreciate any help you could give me."
"Stay on course toward us and raise your shields. We'll be with
you in..." he looked over toward the Vulcan.
Tuvok supplied the answer. "Fifty-one minutes, twenty-seven
seconds..."
"Do you have weapons?" Chakotay asked.
"Some."
"Try not to use them. Your best bet is to try and stall the
Cardassians. Use your shields, but firing on them might just get
you killed. It looks they'll arrive before we do. But hold on,
we'll do everything we can to rescue you."
"Thank you, Liberty, Targ out."
Out of habit, B'Elanna activated the Targ's shields, but they
offered little, if any protection, and she readied the Targ's
weapons just in case. That was if you could call two small
phaser banks that barely had enough power between them to
replicate a cup of coffee weapons. Then she waited, she didn't
have to wait long before she was contacted.
"Unmarked vessel, this is Gul Arkaq, identify yourself, Klingon."
"This is the Targ. I'm on personal business. I have nothing of
value."
Arkaq waived away her explanation with a flick of his scaley
hand. This woman looked interesting. According to their sensor
scans she had Klingon blood flowing in her veins--while she was
not a full blooded Klingon from the image of her that was
displayed on the view screen-- she looked like she possessed a
fiery spirit. "Young lady, whether or not you have anything of
value doesn't matter to me. Be prepared to surrender when we get
within range." The look on the Cardie captain's face was
lecherous. He nodded to his communications officer to terminate
contact. Easing his long frame out of the command chair, he
stood proud and tall.
"I don't want her harmed," Arkaq informed his crew. "After we
disable her ship, beam her and her ship aboard."
The transporters still aren't functioning at full capacity," one
of the junior officers noted. Since their run-in with two Maquis
ships the day before, a repair crew had been working around the
clock trying to repair the damage. "Her shields are faltering so
we should be able to beam an away team over with no problem. But
it will take several minutes for the transporters to recharge
before we can attempt to use them again to beam anyone back. We
also can't fire on the shields any more without risk of injury to
the female."
"Then I'll lead the away team.," Gul Arkaq remarked. "You
two..." He motioned with a flip of his finger to two strong
soldiers. "..are with me. Remember, I want her alive," he
reminded his second in command just before he left the bridge.
* * * * *
The Targ's shields were weakening, and ever so surely, the
Cardie's ship was getting closer. Any moment now, they'd either
beam her aboard their ship or board hers, she mused. From her
position, seated casually on her precious trunk, one hand clasped
to her locket, and other stroking her slightly swollen abdomen,
she waited. Waited to play a game she had never played before.
Just how innocent could a half-Klingon appear to be, she
wondered. She was about to find out.
* * * * * *
As the sedative started to wear off, Tom Paris woke up. From the
look of the now familiar ceiling, he knew exactly where he was--
the infirmary. In the next moment, he remembered how he got here
this time. He'd been on a clean-up detail in the New Zealand
forests with several other members of the penal colony when he
was pushed from behind. He recalled tumbling down a steep hill,
end over end, before finally coming to stop at the bottom, thanks
to the trunk of a tree being between him and a pile of rocks.
"Mr. Paris, I see that you're awake." The perennial cheerful
voice of the colony's physician greeted the pilot.
Tom tried to move his right arm so he could pull himself up
further on the biobed, but found that it wouldn't move. "What'd
I do this time, Doc?"
The doctor circled the biobed and began to remove some of the
instruments he had used to treat the convict. "Compound fracture
of your elbow and a fractured scapula. I've immobilized your arm
while the auto-osteo regenerator* can heal you."
"Oh."
"It shouldn't be too much longer before you can leave. I've
already healed all your other injuries."
{My other injuries?!} Tom's left hand flew up to his cheek. It
was gone! His scar was no longer there! "What did you do?!" he
cried out. The guard who stood by the entrance to the infirmary
stepped closer, only returning to his post by the door after the
doctor waved him off.
"I figured while you were sedated, and since you were my only
patient for a change, I'd do a thorough job. After I healed all
your recent injuries, I took care of that bite mark on your
cheek," he explained. Holding up a mirror, Doctor Lawson let Tom
Paris take a look at his newly healed face. "You look as good as
new--maybe even better." The physician was clearly proud of his
accomplishment.
"Put it back!"
"What?"
"I said, put it back!"
"I-I can't do that. Besides, why would you want me to
intentionally scar you?"
"I really don't...not you anyway. But that particular scar had
sentimental significance."
"A scar has sentimental significance?"
"It was more than just a scar, Doc." Tom signed and ran his
fingers of his left had through his hair in frustration. "Are
you familiar with Klingon ritual?"
"Klingon? Well somewhat," Lawson admitted. "But what does that
have to do with anything? You're not Klingon."
"No, I'm not...but she is...well half is."
"She?"
"My mate. The scar was the only thing I have left to remember
her by."
"I had no idea," the doctor admitted sadly. "I'm very sorry that
she died."
"She's not dead...but being in here, I don't know when I'll ever
see her again. She doesn't even know where I am. If I have many
more accidents like this, I might not survive until my sentence
is complete."
The doctor placed the last of his instruments in the storage tray
and pulled a chair up next to the biobed. Since Tom Paris had
been sent to Auckland, he'd become a frequent visitor to the
infirmary. Sometimes the injuries were as simple as over-
exposure to the sun. Other times, the damage done to his body
was decidedly suspicious. During the short time Tom had been at
the colony, Lawson had gotten to know the young pilot and found
he liked him.
"What if I could get you to work in here?" Lawson asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I should be able to arrange with the warden to have you work
some time during the week in the infirmary. I'm always on the
lookout for someone bright to help me in here, but not many of
the inmates are interested. To be honest, most of them I
wouldn't want in here, but I've noticed on your records that
you've had some medical training at the Academy."
"I just took a couple..."
"That's more than most," the Doctor replied cutting him off in
mid-sentence. "If you're interested, I'll put in a request so
you can assist me when you aren't required to work in the motor
fleet repair bay."
Tom pursed his lips in thought, and nodded once. "I might be."
"You won't just be stocking shelves, mind you. I'd expect you to
learn on the job."
"Learn what?"
"Well we'll start with emergency medicine and anatomy and work
our way up from there."
"One of those trades I can use on the outside?
"It's part of any work program here at the penal colony."
"But, I'm a pilot," Tom argued.
"Being cross-trained as a medic couldn't hurt, Mr. Paris. Who
knows, it just might come in handy some day. Besides you get to
partake of my razor wit and musical talents. I plan the best
fiddle this side of Nashville," Lawson boasted.
Tom laughed. "Okay, Doc. You've got a deal."
Tom held out his free hand and the doctor shook it firmly.
"You've got a deal, Doc."
"Good. I'll let you know what I find out."
* * * * * *
The air sparkled above an empty area in the middle of the Targ.
B'Elanna remained calm as three Cardassians materialized.
"Welcome," B'Elanna called out when the transportation was
complete. Every fiber of her being wanted to attack them, but
for the sake of her child, she held back.
Two of the three men aimed their weapons at her. The third swung
away to check out the rear of the ship.
"You're alone." The eldest of the three remarked. It was more
of a statement that a question.
"Who did you expect to find here?"
"You can never be too sure," Gul Arkaq replied slowly.
The soldiers' eyes darted around the ship, looking for anything
that might be suspicious--weapons, another person, anything. In
one hand they held their weapon, with the other a tricorder. Gul
Arkaq waved his weapon at B'Elanna.
"If you please, my dear, please stand up, hands raised above your
head, and turn around slowly."
"Why?" She knew why.
"Don't ask so many questions, just do as you're told."
Obeying the Gul's orders, B'Elanna stood and turned around.
With his free hand the Gul felt her body--both looking for any
weapon that she might have hidden away and also so he could lay
his hands upon her. When he began to get close to B'Elanna's
dagger, the half-Klingon giggled like she had heard Mroki's girls
do.
The unexpected sound of B'Elanna laughing caused the Cardassian
to stop his exploration. He'd seen some female Klingons over the
years, had even had sex with one once--even though she was an
unwilling participant. But he'd never heard one giggle like a
human.
"Sto-stop th-that," B'Elanna sputtered. "It t-t-tickles!" {And
if you touch me again, I'll skin you alive!}
Arkaq stepped back. This woman was a puzzlement. A wonder to
behold.
"What's your name, Klingon?"
"My name?" {Kahless, she hated pretending she was so dumb and
innocent!}
"Yes, your name," Arkaq repeated trying to remain patient. He'd
never seen such a naive Klingon--what a contradiction!
"Oh, it's..." B'Elanna searched her memory frantically trying to
come up with a name that would sound as unthreatening as
possible. "It's Lanni," she said, choosing a shortened version
of her own name.
"Lanni? That doesn't sound very Klingon."
"No. it's a name my father liked. He's human."
"Lanni?" he questioned again.
B'Elanna batted her dark eyes at the Cardie captain and added a
pout. "Don't you like it?" {Damn this was sickening. When would
the Maquis show up?}
"It's lovely, just like you," Arkaq replied smoothly. "Now if
you could tell me where you were going all by yourself?"
"Um..." B'Elanna bit her lip. "I was going to Risa." It was the
first planet she could think of that wasn't embroiled in a war.
"Risa?" Nothing could have stunned the Cardie more that to learn
that any Klingon, even an half-Klingon, would be interested in
going to Risa.
B'Elanna nodded.
"You are nowhere near Risa," he informed her. Tell me again
where you are going? This time I want the truth."
"You must be mistaken," B'Elanna insisted. "I'm sure I'm
following their directions exactly. Do you mind if I call up my
map?"
The Gul nodded.
B'Elanna chewed her lower lip with apparent nervousness and
punched in code into the ship's computer. She did it with
deliberate clumsiness having to reenter the series of commands
several times before a stellar map was displayed on her computer
screen. She smiled broadly at her accomplishment.
"See there's Risa," she said pointing to a flicker of light on
the screen."
Arkaq shook his head. "What you're pointing at is the scrap pit
recovery station on Mirax 9. Risa is here." He pointed at
another area on the map, far away from her present location.
"It can't be!"
"I assure you, it is."
"Then I'm going in the wrong direction!" I'll be late. They're
expecting me to start work next week!"
This piece of news caught the Gul's interest. He knew that Risa
was referred to as the 'Pleasure Planet.' "You are going to work
there?" he questioned.
B'Elanna giggled again. {Liberty, if you don't hurry up, I'm
going to be sick and I don't mean morning sick!} "Yeah my friend,
Sissy, says that they are always looking for friendly employees,
and that they were always on the lookout for employees with a
unique ethnic background. Sissy thought my Klingon half would
somehow appeal to them." Again, B'Elanna giggled. "She also
told me that the pay was very good."
"Did your friend tell you what these employees actually are
expected to do?" He motioned to his soldiers, who had stopped to
listen to her tale, to continue their exploration.
B'Elanna shrugged and reaching up she twirled a lock of hair
around her index finger. "Just that you have to keep the
customers happy. You know--listen to their stories, keep their
glasses full, stuff like that." {The Gul seems to be buying this
act of mine. Boy can men be stupid!}
"You do know that Risa is called the 'Pleasure Planet' by the
humans?
She smiled and her head bobbed. "That's 'cuz everyone has such a
good time. Sissy told me they have these giant blue lagoon type
swimming pools. They are suppose to be nice and warm with all
sorts of colorful fish that swim in them. I like fish!" {Yeah, I
like them all right...to eat! Hurry up, Liberty. What the hell
is keeping you?}
Arkaq couldn't believe this half-Klingon was so naive. "Did she
tell you that you'd be expected to swim in those lagoons naked?"
B'Elanna's eyes widened with apparent surprise. "Naked? You
mean no clothes?"
Arkaq nodded. He was enjoying this moment. Watching people
squirm was one of his favorite pastimes.
"No! N-no!" B'Elanna looked shocked.
"Yes, my dear." The Gul reached out with one scaley finger and
casually ran it around *Lanni's* neckline. "Not a stitch of
clothing on--naked as their day of birth. I wouldn't mind seeing
it for myself someday." He continued his exploration of the
neckline. B'Elanna gritted her teeth and remembered that the
safety of her and Tom's child was at stake, and she prayed that
he wouldn't find the...too late!
"What's this?" Arkaq asked when his finger caught on the chain.
B'Elanna's hand quickly reached up to stop the Cardassian but he
had already pulled the chain out from where it had laid hidden
beneath her shirt.
"It's just a gift," she explained, trying to kep her voice light
and non-threatening.
Spying the oval-shaped locket, Arkaq attempted to pry open the
halves of the pendant.
Covering his hands with her own, B'Elanna tired to stop his
quest. If he opened the locket and activated the hologram, he'd
know that her name wasn't Lanni--and he'd find out about Tom.
The Gul's curiosity was raised by her actions. "You must have
done something remarkable to be given such a beautiful object,"
he noted. "Why don't you want me looking at it?"
B'Elanna laughed nervously. "It's just a gift," she insisted.
"It's personal.
"If you don't remove your hands, Lanni, I'll have my soldiers
remove them for you--permanently. But I'd rather not have to do
that. I have a feeling we could become friends...*good friends*.
The emphasis he placed on the last words implied he wasn't
referring to a platonic relationship.
{I'll never to your *friend* you Cardie sonfabitch! Liberty,
where the hell are you?!} B'Elanna slowly dropped her hands,
though she would have loved to have wrapped her hands around the
corded throat of the Gul and squeezed the life out of him.
"That's better. now let's see this trinket you value."
The Gul's fingernail slipped between the halves of the pendant
and opened it. Instantly, he recognized the inner workings of a
classic holo-locket.
"Someone must have cared about you a great deal to give you one
of these. It's an expensive gift."
"Gul," one of the soldiers called out.
"Can't you see that I"m busy?" Arkaq snapped.
"But, sir, I'm detecting another life sign. The signal isn't
that strong, but it's definitely there."
Gul Arkaq looked up at B'Elanna, seeing her in a new light, his
interest in the locket momentarily suspended. "Where is he
hiding, my dear.?
"There is no one on this ship but me."
"It's not male, Gul Arkaq, it's another female."
{A female? Who? What? Oh, Gods! The baby?! I'm carrying a
girl?!}
"Locate the source!" the Cardie barked, his eyes never leaving
B'Elanna's face.
The soldier nodded to his compatriot, a taller man, to brandish
his weapon so he was able to concentrate on the readout from the
tricorder. He swept the ship carefully until he swung around in
B'Elanna's direction. Instantly, the signal grew stronger.
Nearing the woman, the tricorder began to beep loudly.
"I've discovered the source," he informed his captain. The
soldier paused, trying to come to terms with the readout.
"Spit it out!"
"It's her, sir. It's inside her."
"Inside?" Eyes widened with wonder. "You're pregnant?"
B'Elanna nodded.
This woman proved to be a constant surprise. He looked forward
to getting her to his ship so he'd have more time to unravel her
mystery.
* * * * * *
"Status!" Chakotay barked.
"Closing, sir, we'll be in firing range in three point two
seconds and in transporter range in two point four," Tuvok
replied.
"Good. Gerron, when I give the word, you'll deactivate the
cloak. As soon as the ship is visible, Tuvok, you'll fire upon
the Cardie ship. I want his weapon and propulsion systems
disabled, so make your shots count. As soon as we are in range,
we'll transport her on board. Then we're outta here! I don't
want any mistakes--timing is everything if she and we are going
to get out this alive."
"Aye, sir," they replied in unison.
* * * * * *
The Gul's attention returned to the locket and his forefinger
pressed the small button to activate the hologram. Immediately,
like he had done hundreds of times before, Tom Paris appeared and
his vow of love was replayed.
"How touching," Arkaq sneered. "And how revealing. I thought
you were innocent--but I see I was wrong." Arkaq dropped the
locket in disgust at what he'd just witnessed. "You had no
intention of going to Risa. You are in search of your child's
father. I may never have seen his face, but I'd never forget the
voice. Your lover is a Maquis. He's the one responsible for
destroying my first ship!"
{Good!}
"Revenge will be mine, Lanni--or is it B'Elanna? Turn this ship
inside out!" he ordered his soldiers. The men nodded and began
to pull open drawers and turned over anything that wasn't bolted
down. "And don't forget this," Arkaq kicked the trunk.
* * * * * *
"Drop the shields on my mark, Gerron."
"Aye, sir." The young Bajoran's fingers hovered over the
controls. His focus intent on his captain.
The Captain's dark eyes surveyed the situation they were flying
into. He relied more on experience than computer readouts.
"Now!" he shouted.
Gerron dropped the cloak. Tuvok took aim and fired. First a
photon torpedo disabled the Cardassian ship's weapons and then a
well-placed series of phaser shots at such close range
effectively paralyzed the vessel.
"As soon as you get a lock on her, transport."
* * * * * *
Everyone on board the Targ turned at the sound of the Liberty's
weapons firing on the Cardassian ship.
"Status!" the Gul barked into his comm badge.
"Weapons are down and propulsion is disabled, sir. It's the
Liberty again. They were cloaked this time and knew just where
to strike!"
B'Elanna smiled, glad that the ship had finally arrived. A
familiar static began to swim around her. Knowing she was about
to be transported, she quickly wrapped her arms around her
precious trunk and both she and all her belongings were beamed
off the Targ.
* * * * * *
Nella Troka, a member of the Maquis and a Trill, ran an old
medical tricorder over Liberty's new guest. Nella was the only
person on board that had any kind of medical training. One of
her former hosts had been a medic in a Trill military group--even
though it had been seven hosts ago--Nella still was considered
the Liberty's doctor when the need arose.
"You'll be happy to know you're fine," Nella announced shutting
the tricorder off. "Both you and your baby are doing well.
Though to be safe, you should probably supplement your diet with
some prenatal nutrients."
B'Elanna who had been laying on the examining table pulled
herself up, resting on her elbows. "Are you sure there's nothing
wrong?"
"Relax. You're both doing well." Nella smiled down at her
patient.
"That's a relief. Now if you could tell me where I could find
Tom."
"Tom?" There's no one on this ship by that name."
"This is the Liberty, isn't it?"
Nella nodded.
"He's the pilot," B'Elanna explained.
"Actually there was a Tom on the ship, he was the pilot, but all
of us called him Paris--but he's gone."
"Gone?" the half-Klingon questioned, her voice raised.
Nella nodded.
B'Elanna's blood froze in her veins. "Tom can't be. If he was
dead, I'd know it...I'd feel it."
"Wait a minute," Nella cautioned holding her hands up trying to
calm the woman. "I didn't say he was dead--just gone."
With relief, B'Elanna's blood flowed again. "Then where is he?"
The Trill sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. "We
don't know. Is he the father?"
"Yes. We met on Palmat."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? About what?"
"Tom Paris is not what I'd consider a family man. You are
probably better off without him."
B'Elanna was about to tell her to go to hell when another voice
piped up. "What going on in here? What's this about Paris?"
Nella and B'Elanna looked up to see the captain of the Liberty
enter the infirmary.
"Our guest is looking for Paris," Nella explained.
Chakotay's eyes widened. "Paris? Did you tell her he's not on
board?"
Nella nodded.
Grimacing, Chakotay moved next to B'Elanna. "What did Paris
promise you for you to have risked so much to find him?"
{Just his heart.} "I need to see him," B'Elanna said instead.
Nella placed a comforting hand on B'Elanna's shoulder and
squeezed. "I'll leave you two alone. Talk to him, B'Elanna.
The Captain's a good man."
With trepidation, B'Elanna watched the medic leave the infirmary
leaving her alone with Liberty's captain.
Chakotay eyed the woman carefully, and wondered what it was that
Tom Paris possessed that women were so interested in. Every time
Liberty was in port when Paris had been on board, at least one
and usually more women hovered around the pilot seeking his
attention. Of course, the tattooed man admitted, Paris was good
looking and came from a wealthy family, but other than that, what
did the women see in him? Couldn't they tell he was just leading
them on?
This particular woman was more of a puzzle. None of the others
had flown through space alone and braved the Cardassians' wrath
to be near the pilot. Perhaps it was her heritage that made her
so determined to be with Paris. He noted her forehead crests,
and realized that they bespoke of a Klingon heritage. Maybe it
was her Klingon half that spurred her on. Paris, as far as he
was concerned, was nothing more than a womanizer and a mercenary.
Fighting for anyone to pay his bar bills. What had he done this
time to make this woman come looking for him?
The Captain motioned to a pair of mismatched chairs with a wave
of his hand. "Let's have a seat." B'Elanna nodded and both took
a seat while Chakotay chose to straddle his chair. The Captain
folded his arms across his broad chest. "Tell me why are you are
looking for Tom Paris?"
"I'm afraid that's my business," B'Elanna countered. Her dark
eyes surveyed the man before her. She didn't want to tell him
anything more than necessary.
"Not any more it isn't." The captain's voice was soft, but his
tone was all business. "I not only saved your life, but put the
lives of everyone on this ship in jeopardy to rescue you from the
Cardies. Now you're going to tell me why you risked so much to
come looking for my former pilot. I won't bother you any more
than I have to."
B'Elanna looked away from the Captain, focusing instead on the
deck in an attempt to control her emotions, before she faced him
again. "Look, I'm very grateful for all you've done for me {and
for my unborn child} but if Tom isn't here, I promise I'll leave
the ship at the next port."
"That might take sometime. We aren't scheduled to be in port for
several weeks. We've recently performed repairs to the ship, our
cargo bays are full, and our energy supplies are at peak."
"So you finally got the port nacelle's frequency stabilized?"
B'Elanna asked remembering that Tom had told her about this
problem during their fancy dinner out.
"Yes, we..." He paused. "How did you know?" Realization dawned
on Chakotay. "Are you Paris' engineer? The one from Palmat?"
"Yes, my name is B'Elanna Torres. Now can you tell me where he
is. It's important that I see him."
"You and half the female population in this sector!" Chakotay
spat. He sprang up from his seat, annoyed at B'Elanna's
persistence.
"What do you mean?"
Chakotay's head snapped in her direction. "You don't think that
you are the only woman who thinks Tom Paris is in love with them
do you?" It was cruel to be so blunt, but he had his fill with
the cocky pilot. If this woman was so stupid to fly alone
through a war zone, then it was about time she faced some home
truths.
B'Elanna felt like she'd been hit by a phaser volley. It took
her a while to gather her wits and respond. "I'm not so naive to
believe that someone as handsome and as kind as Tom Paris hasn't
had his share of women chasing him, but what we had was
different--it was special!"
"That's what they all say. Usually they approach the ship
looking for him while we are still in port. I do have to give
you credit for your ingenuity, none of the others have tried to
follow him this far." Chakotay picked up the medical tricorder
that Nella had left on a side table and for lack of anything
better to do nervously tossed the item back and forth from one
hand to the other.
"Can you at least tell me where he went if he's not on the ship?"
B'Elanna asked repeating her earlier question.
"We don't know. The ship suffered some damage during a skirmish
with a Cardie patrol vessel. Paris volunteered to take a shuttle
to Selka and bring back some help. Like an idiot, I let him go.
That's the last we saw of him or the shuttle."
"Maybe he was captured," B'Elanna offered. "Did you go look for
him?"
Chakotay stopped tossing the tricorder. "Of course we looked for
him, and didn't find anything. We didn't find anything. The
Selkan's that finally did come to our aid and told us that they
had been lucky enough to intercept a communication between two
Cardie ships. Tom Paris had fled, leaving us high and dry."
"I don't believe he'd do that," B'Elanna said defending her
missing mate.
Chakotay sighed and decided to try another tactic. "You say you
met Paris on Palmat?"
She nodded.
"We were only on that planet for a few weeks. Paris has been
with the Maquis over a year. I think I know him better than you
do."
The Klingon shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm not here to argue
that point with you. The fact remains that I...still..need to
f... B'Elanna brought one hand to her stomach and one to her
mouth. She was long overdue to eat, and when that happened she
was prone to nausea since she became pregnant. Simple morning
sickness she could handle, but possessing the Klingon famous
redundant stomachs when nausea hit, it hit hard.
"What can I get you? A bucket?" Chakotay asked, clearly
unraveled at what he was witnessing.
A nod. Not daring to open her mouth to speak.
Quickly Chakotay found an appropriately sized container and
passed it to her. Accepting the container, B'Elanna moved to the
back of the room to achieve some semblance of privacy. While she
was heaving, the Captain looked through the drawers in the
infirmary for something to counteract the nausea. Having
assisted Nella over the last year, he knew what to look for.
Hypospray in hand, he approached B'Elanna. "I promise this wont'
hurt, it should help you feel better very soon," he promised and
moved her dark locks away from the nap of her neck so he could
inject her.
With lightning reflexes B'Elanna jerked away from him.
"I'm not trying to hurt you," he reiterated.
"That may be...but it might hurt the child I'm carrying."
His jaw dropped and the hypo rattled to the floor. "You're
pregnant?"
A nod.
"Paris is the father?"
Another nod.
Nothing was ever easy, Chakotay mused.
Several weeks later...
Alone in the section of the ship for a change, B'Elanna sat
cross-legged on her bunk in what had been Tom's cabin. She
removed the necklace from around her throat and cradled the
precious locket in her hands. It was what was considered night
on the ship. Most of the crew were sound asleep or partying in
Liberty's mess hall. A skeleton crew manned the bridge, while
the Liberty took refuge in a secret pocket of protection in the
Badlands. Chakotay had explained to B'Elanna when she first
witnessed this phenomenon that it was the equivalent of an eye of
a hurricane, except this one remained stationary. The crew
called it "Sanctuary."
With a trembling finger and with tears flowing down her cheeks,
B'Elanna opened the locket and pressed the button to activate the
hologram. In silence she listened to Tom Paris' last words to
her.
"...only and always."
In the past, the words always made her feel confident and
cherished. Listening to the words tonight she wondered if things
had changed. Her life certainly had since that day on Palmat
when he left. She was now a Maquis. In fact, she'd been of so
much help during her time on board, that when the Liberty's
engineer had suffered serous injuries during a run-in with a
Starfleet ship, Chakotay had promoted her to the position of
Chief Engineer. It was a lot more fulfilling than fixing Mroki's
old broken down equipment, now she was repairing Chakotay's old
broken down equipment. Not much of a distinction when you
thought about it, but it made her feel more needed. The activity
was also keeping her busy. She found she seldom had a moment to
herself anymore.
So taking advantage of her time alone she activated her hand-held
computer terminal and began her log.
"Computer, activate log."
::::Recording::::
B'Elanna made herself comfortable, adjusting her pillow behind
her back. "Boy this has been awhile, I don't think I've entered
anything in my personal log for weeks, but I came to a conclusion
since I last made an entry. I told Chakotay that I'm committing
myself to the Maquis cause. I believe in why they are
fighting...they are brave men and women who need me...and I need
them.
"They need me to help them and I've grown to respect their
Captain. He's a good man. I know he told me that he and Tom
didn't get along very well, but I like him. I'm finding that I
seek him out for advice and I've learned that he's wise and above
all else, he's there when I need him. Perhaps deep inside I see
him as a replacement for my father--offering me those pearls of
wisdom that I never received growing up, unless you could count
my mother's admonitions to follow Klingon tradition. Snort!
"Last week Chakotay took me on something he calls a vision quest.
I'd been complaining to him about my Klingon half. I guess he
thought it would help me learn to control my temper. While I was
honored that he shared this part of his heritage with me, I had
my doubts that this quest would help..."
With one hand placed on the Akoonah, and the other clutching a
well-worn stone, B'Elanna slipped into a spiritual trance.
Opening her eyes the half-Klingon found herself in a forest.
She'd expected that, it was one of the few things Chakotay told
her to expect before she began her vision quest. Looking to her
right then left B'Elanna observed her surroundings. A variety of
tall fir trees and deciduous trees made up the forest. The new
green color on the latter trees indicated that the forest was
experiencing a spring, or maybe since this was really a state of
mind, it meant that she was in the spring of her life. Funny,
B'Elanna thought, some days it felt that she had to be in autumn
or winter. The sound of a bird screeching made her look up. A
falcon* circled overhead getting lower and lower until it finally
perched on a strong branch not far from where B'Elanna stood.
Chakotay had informed her that the first animal she spotted would
be the animal to guide her, so she took a tentative step forward.
"Hello," she began. "Are you my Spirit Guide?"
The falcon tilted its regal head to one side and seemed to
contemplate this newcomer to the forest. From within her mind,
B'Elanna heard the falcon respond.
"I am."
"Good." {Now how the hell do you talk to an animal who's suppose
to be wiser than you?}
"Is it good?" the bird questioned.
"Isn't is suppose to be?" she countered.
"Depends. Why did you come?"
Already B'Elanna felt exasperated and they hadn't even exchanged
more than a few words. She shrugged. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
"You're wrong," she insisted.
"No, I'm not," the bird stubbornly replied. "This forest is the
place for truths. You must begin by being true to yourself. Why
did you come?"
"Because Chak--"
The falcon spread its wings and flew away from her.
"Stop!" B'Elanna called out. "STOP!"
"Are you ready to speak truths?" the animal guide called out from
above.
"I...ah...yes."
"Then tell me," the falcon demanded perching on a stout branch.
"I...ah...I'm here to help control my temper. A friend suggested
that I give it a try."
"Do you come for yourself, or because of your friend's
suggestion?"
"Both maybe."
"Not good enough."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to know why you are here--the truth. What is it you
seek?" the bird questioned.
"Guess I'm not sure. I'm confused."
"Perhaps, but maybe you just can't speak the words, the falcon
suggested. "Perhaps your pride gets in the way."
B'Elanna wrapped her arms around herself and sank to the forest
floor. Looking up at the bird, her eyes shone with moisture.
"I...I suppose the real reason I'm here is to find out if he
still cares," she admitted. "I need to know if my baby's father
still loves me."
"You don't know?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be here," B'Elanna spat.
The falcon sat silent for what seemed like an eternity. Finally
the bird blinked twice and replied. "Your soul is troubled.
You are torn."
B'Elanna looked past her animal guide focusing on the forest
beyond--the wind had begun to stir the leaves on the trees. "I
am troubled. The man I love is gone and I have no way to look
for him. Someone else has befriended me. He's kind and looks
after me and the child. I'm indebted to him."
"Trust in fate," the falcon advised.
{Trust in fate?} The familiar words shook her to the core. She
needed to think and plan for the future. She had her baby to
think of. It was easy to rely upon the uncertainty of fate when
you had only yourself to be responsible for."
"I can't just trust in fate!" B'Elanna bellowed. "There's too
much at stake!"
"There's more than you know. Bow to fate!"
"Fate? FATE!!!" I'm sick to death of that word. My fate is what
I make it. My fate is for me to decide!"
"You don't know the complete truth," the falcon replied.
"I know enough. Enough to make my own decisions. My mate left
his ship. He didn't return to me. I have to rethink my future."
"Then why did you come? Why did you seek me if you are not
prepared to accept the truth?"
B'Elanna was silent in her anger except for a low growl that
emanated deep within.
"You must seek the truth!!!" the falcon demanded. "You must be
willing to become a voyager on a sea of fate!"
B'Elanna's fingers picked up a rock and hurled it at the bird
just as the falcon spread its wings and flew off the branch. The
half-Klingon narrowly missed her target. {Truth, fate...what
difference did it make?}
Chakotay ducked just in time to avoid being hit by the rock that
B'Elanna had been clutching in her hand. Never in all his years
in witnessing others venture on spirit quests, had he ever seen
anyone throw the rock.
When B'Elanna opened her eyes she looked both confused and angry.
"B'Elanna are you okay?" her captain asked. "What happened?"
She passed him the akoonah that she still held in her other hand.
"I don't think these spirit quests are for me."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I almost killed my animal guide," she explained.
B'Elanna walked out of the captain's cabin, leaving the occupant
slack-jawed and speechless.
* * *
"I wanted the spirit guide thing to work. I really did, but it
didn't. But I've resolved myself to serving on the Liberty for
the time being. Chakotay assures me that as soon as he reaches a
safe port, I can leave the ship. He knows of a few colonies who
sympathize with the Maquis. There he said he'll help me find
work and a place to live. I can repair engines and ships for the
Maquis, while at the same time making a home for myself and my
child.
"I don't know exactly when I started to think of my future with
just me and the baby, in the past Tom was always a part of the
equation. Not any more. Maybe it's self-preservation.
Chakotay, did try to find Tom, against his better judgement, but
all queries came back unknown--well, all except one. A Bolian
ship, who was friendly to the Maquis, said they had seen someone
that matched Tom's description. Some on the ship even swore it
was him--but said that the man was calling himself Nick Locarno.
This "Nick" had flown through their area of space shortly after I
had boarded the Liberty. He'd been surrounded by beautiful women
and had swindled the Bolians out of several cases of Dirumbian
ale. Sounds like too much of a coincidence. I had to finally
face the fact that what Chakotay had told me about Tom was the
truth. The truth hits hard.
"I guess that was when I found myself relying on the good captain
more and more. For a while, I thought maybe there could be
something between us, but then I had to remind myself that he has
another. One of the Bajorans on the ship--a woman named Seska--
told me that they are in a relationship. To me it seems like a
one-sided affair--she loving him, more than he loves her. But
what do I know about love affairs? I certainly haven't had much
luck myself. Tomorrow I'm going to see Nella and I'm having the
scar removed. Maybe someday I'll even be brave enough to stop
wearing the locket.
"Computer end log entry."
* * * * * *
Tom flipped open a small hand-held recording device and sat down
on his bed that had recently been stripped of its linen and began
to record.
"Well I'm packing--what little I have that is--a comb, a change
of clothes, and my shaving kit. I've said goodbye to the doctor
and tomorrow Captain Janeway is sending a shuttle to transport me
to Deep Space 9. From there I'm to board her ship. It's called
Voyager--sounds harmless.
"Just when I thought my life was going to remain unchanged--at
least for the next few years--things get turned upside down.
Just when I think that I may never see B'Elanna--I have hope in
my heart that we'll be together again.
"Yesterday, while I was working in the motor repair bay, this
determined redhead approached me. She told me her name was
Captain Kathryn Janeway and that she had once served with my
father. Like that's suppose to impress me! Fat chance! But I
was impressed that she wanted me to go with her--even if it was
with the intent of ratting out my former Maquis crewmates. I
think she thought I was offended--that I might not do it. Hell,
I would have done anything if it meant that I might be able to
find B'Elanna again. Gods, I miss her! It's been too long since
we've been together. But damn, I have to go as an observer! An
observer?!?! I told Janeway that she couldn't find a better
pilot than me. Secretly, I think she enjoyed the look of
disappointment she must have been evident on my face when she
told me I'd go as an observer or not at all. But that's okay, as
long as I'm out of this prison I might have the opportunity to
look for my mate. The next time I make a log entry, I should be
on board Janeway's ship."
"Computer end log entry."
End Chapter 5
Click here to transport to Chapter 6 - Recovery
~~~~Brandy walks through a silent town
~~~~And loves a man who's not around
Two months later...
Flying away from Palmat in her little ship, B'Elanna's hand crept
to her abdomen. She patted her growing stomach in the circular
motion she had grown accustomed to since she found out she was
carrying Tom Paris' child.
At first B'Elanna had been surprised to find this unexpected
gift. She could have sworn that she was still protected from
pregnancy.
She remembered the initial shock she felt when she received the
news from Mroki's physician. Recalling the last time she had
received her birth control booster, she realized that she had
miscalculated. It was hard to think straight, when your world
was being turned upside down with hot and cold chills that felt
so damn good!
Her being pregnant though wasn't the reason for her departure
from Palmat. True to her word, she had planned on staying on the
planet until Tom could come for her--but the Cardassian's had
changed that.
About a month ago, the spoon-heads had attacked Palmat, thinking
it was a Maquis base. For over two weeks, they fired on the
planet. When they were through, thousands of people lay dead,
and many buildings were demolished--including Mroki's bar.
In the lull that followed the attack, B'Elanna decided, for the
safety of their child, she should leave before the Cardassians
returned to finish the job they started.
That's how she came to find herself flying through this region of
space, trying to avoid the Cardassians and find the Maquis, and
hopefully Tom Paris.
B'Elanna carefully watched her sensor readings and stayed away
from the heavier traveled trading lanes. And when it was time for
her to sleep she would find an asteroid or a moon to hide behind.
On her fourth day in space, B'Elanna picked up a strong signal
that was closing fast upon her. There was no doubt about it, it
was Cardassian, and it appeared to be zeroed in on her.
Should she try and outrun it? If she did, when they caught up
with her what would they do? B'Elanna had seen Alini and some of
the other prostitutes play innocent and how they got away with
it. Perhaps, if all else failed, this one time it would work for
her. It not, the dagger she slipped into her boot, would give
her a fighting advantage. So she maintained course and waited
and prayed.
* * * * * *
"Cap'n, Cardies' are closing on our position!"
Chakotay who had been seated at the helm, covering for the
missing pilot, nodded. His fingers tapped out commands on the
console.
"I see it," The Captain replied. "Changing course to vector
three point two."
At times like this, he could cheerfully strangle Tom Paris for
running out on them, when he was suppose to bring back help.
"Tuvok, raise the shields and prepare to ready the phasers."
{Paris had better pray that I never lay eyes on him again. But
at least I found the Vulcan. He almost makes up for the loss of
the pilot--too bad his speciality is weaponry and not flying.}
"Aye, Captain."
"Gerron looked up from the sensor array. "Cap'n, I don't think
the Cardies have spotted us yet."
"Explain." Chakotay barked. His fingers still keyed in commands
to the helm.
"There's another ship, sir," the young Bajoran said. "It's very
small--a three- to four-person shuttle at the most."
"Can you determine the origin of the ship, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked
addressing the Vulcan.
Tuvok analyzed the vessel carefully before he replied. "The
vessel is constructed of various parts of other ships, sir--some
are Terran, Betazoid, Romulan, as well as others I cannot
identify without further analysis."
"Any information on the crew?"
"Sensors are identifying only one person on the ship." Gerron
piped up. He looked toward Chakotay to gauge the older man's
reaction. "A Klingon-Human hybrid female."
Chakotay eyebrows shot up, Klingon-Human hybrids were rare, but
either way it was very likely that this woman wasn't an ally of
the Cardassians.
"Time until the Cardie's catch up with her?" The Captain asked.
Tuvok answered. "At their present rate of speed, forty-two
minutes, and tw..."
"Hail her on a secure channel and raise that cloaking device,"
Chakotay ordered interrupting the Vulcan. At least Paris had
accomplished something before he left, Chakotay mused. He had
obtained a slightly used, Romulan cloaking device during a card
game on Ferenginar. Of course, the damn thing wasn't one hundred
percent compatible with the Liberty and would only work for short
periods of time.
"Sir?"
"I'm not about to leave a woman or anyone else, alone to fend for
themselves against those bastards, Geron. Even if I have to use
the cloak, the Maquis didn't sign the Treaty of Algeron. I just
hope it will stay working until we can rescue her."
Gerron nodded. "Channel open, Cap'n, audio only though."
"Small ship, this is the Liberty. You appear to be in imminent
danger."
{The Liberty? It's Tom's ship!}
B'Elanna adjusted her communication system to scramble her
message before replying. "Yes, I am. You couldn't have come at
a better time. This is the..." B'Elanna had yet to think of a
name for her ship, but now she said the first thing that crossed
her mind...Well actually the first thing she thought of was Tom,
but Tom for some reason made her think of pigs...little pink
piglets were so adorable, just like him....and pigs made her
think of... "Liberty, this is the Targ."
"Targ, do you require assistance?"
"I would greatly appreciate any help you could give me."
"Stay on course toward us and raise your shields. We'll be with
you in..." he looked over toward the Vulcan.
Tuvok supplied the answer. "Fifty-one minutes, twenty-seven
seconds..."
"Do you have weapons?" Chakotay asked.
"Some."
"Try not to use them. Your best bet is to try and stall the
Cardassians. Use your shields, but firing on them might just get
you killed. It looks they'll arrive before we do. But hold on,
we'll do everything we can to rescue you."
"Thank you, Liberty, Targ out."
Out of habit, B'Elanna activated the Targ's shields, but they
offered little, if any protection, and she readied the Targ's
weapons just in case. That was if you could call two small
phaser banks that barely had enough power between them to
replicate a cup of coffee weapons. Then she waited, she didn't
have to wait long before she was contacted.
"Unmarked vessel, this is Gul Arkaq, identify yourself, Klingon."
"This is the Targ. I'm on personal business. I have nothing of
value."
Arkaq waived away her explanation with a flick of his scaley
hand. This woman looked interesting. According to their sensor
scans she had Klingon blood flowing in her veins--while she was
not a full blooded Klingon from the image of her that was
displayed on the view screen-- she looked like she possessed a
fiery spirit. "Young lady, whether or not you have anything of
value doesn't matter to me. Be prepared to surrender when we get
within range." The look on the Cardie captain's face was
lecherous. He nodded to his communications officer to terminate
contact. Easing his long frame out of the command chair, he
stood proud and tall.
"I don't want her harmed," Arkaq informed his crew. "After we
disable her ship, beam her and her ship aboard."
The transporters still aren't functioning at full capacity," one
of the junior officers noted. Since their run-in with two Maquis
ships the day before, a repair crew had been working around the
clock trying to repair the damage. "Her shields are faltering so
we should be able to beam an away team over with no problem. But
it will take several minutes for the transporters to recharge
before we can attempt to use them again to beam anyone back. We
also can't fire on the shields any more without risk of injury to
the female."
"Then I'll lead the away team.," Gul Arkaq remarked. "You
two..." He motioned with a flip of his finger to two strong
soldiers. "..are with me. Remember, I want her alive," he
reminded his second in command just before he left the bridge.
* * * * *
The Targ's shields were weakening, and ever so surely, the
Cardie's ship was getting closer. Any moment now, they'd either
beam her aboard their ship or board hers, she mused. From her
position, seated casually on her precious trunk, one hand clasped
to her locket, and other stroking her slightly swollen abdomen,
she waited. Waited to play a game she had never played before.
Just how innocent could a half-Klingon appear to be, she
wondered. She was about to find out.
* * * * * *
As the sedative started to wear off, Tom Paris woke up. From the
look of the now familiar ceiling, he knew exactly where he was--
the infirmary. In the next moment, he remembered how he got here
this time. He'd been on a clean-up detail in the New Zealand
forests with several other members of the penal colony when he
was pushed from behind. He recalled tumbling down a steep hill,
end over end, before finally coming to stop at the bottom, thanks
to the trunk of a tree being between him and a pile of rocks.
"Mr. Paris, I see that you're awake." The perennial cheerful
voice of the colony's physician greeted the pilot.
Tom tried to move his right arm so he could pull himself up
further on the biobed, but found that it wouldn't move. "What'd
I do this time, Doc?"
The doctor circled the biobed and began to remove some of the
instruments he had used to treat the convict. "Compound fracture
of your elbow and a fractured scapula. I've immobilized your arm
while the auto-osteo regenerator* can heal you."
"Oh."
"It shouldn't be too much longer before you can leave. I've
already healed all your other injuries."
{My other injuries?!} Tom's left hand flew up to his cheek. It
was gone! His scar was no longer there! "What did you do?!" he
cried out. The guard who stood by the entrance to the infirmary
stepped closer, only returning to his post by the door after the
doctor waved him off.
"I figured while you were sedated, and since you were my only
patient for a change, I'd do a thorough job. After I healed all
your recent injuries, I took care of that bite mark on your
cheek," he explained. Holding up a mirror, Doctor Lawson let Tom
Paris take a look at his newly healed face. "You look as good as
new--maybe even better." The physician was clearly proud of his
accomplishment.
"Put it back!"
"What?"
"I said, put it back!"
"I-I can't do that. Besides, why would you want me to
intentionally scar you?"
"I really don't...not you anyway. But that particular scar had
sentimental significance."
"A scar has sentimental significance?"
"It was more than just a scar, Doc." Tom signed and ran his
fingers of his left had through his hair in frustration. "Are
you familiar with Klingon ritual?"
"Klingon? Well somewhat," Lawson admitted. "But what does that
have to do with anything? You're not Klingon."
"No, I'm not...but she is...well half is."
"She?"
"My mate. The scar was the only thing I have left to remember
her by."
"I had no idea," the doctor admitted sadly. "I'm very sorry that
she died."
"She's not dead...but being in here, I don't know when I'll ever
see her again. She doesn't even know where I am. If I have many
more accidents like this, I might not survive until my sentence
is complete."
The doctor placed the last of his instruments in the storage tray
and pulled a chair up next to the biobed. Since Tom Paris had
been sent to Auckland, he'd become a frequent visitor to the
infirmary. Sometimes the injuries were as simple as over-
exposure to the sun. Other times, the damage done to his body
was decidedly suspicious. During the short time Tom had been at
the colony, Lawson had gotten to know the young pilot and found
he liked him.
"What if I could get you to work in here?" Lawson asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I should be able to arrange with the warden to have you work
some time during the week in the infirmary. I'm always on the
lookout for someone bright to help me in here, but not many of
the inmates are interested. To be honest, most of them I
wouldn't want in here, but I've noticed on your records that
you've had some medical training at the Academy."
"I just took a couple..."
"That's more than most," the Doctor replied cutting him off in
mid-sentence. "If you're interested, I'll put in a request so
you can assist me when you aren't required to work in the motor
fleet repair bay."
Tom pursed his lips in thought, and nodded once. "I might be."
"You won't just be stocking shelves, mind you. I'd expect you to
learn on the job."
"Learn what?"
"Well we'll start with emergency medicine and anatomy and work
our way up from there."
"One of those trades I can use on the outside?
"It's part of any work program here at the penal colony."
"But, I'm a pilot," Tom argued.
"Being cross-trained as a medic couldn't hurt, Mr. Paris. Who
knows, it just might come in handy some day. Besides you get to
partake of my razor wit and musical talents. I plan the best
fiddle this side of Nashville," Lawson boasted.
Tom laughed. "Okay, Doc. You've got a deal."
Tom held out his free hand and the doctor shook it firmly.
"You've got a deal, Doc."
"Good. I'll let you know what I find out."
* * * * * *
The air sparkled above an empty area in the middle of the Targ.
B'Elanna remained calm as three Cardassians materialized.
"Welcome," B'Elanna called out when the transportation was
complete. Every fiber of her being wanted to attack them, but
for the sake of her child, she held back.
Two of the three men aimed their weapons at her. The third swung
away to check out the rear of the ship.
"You're alone." The eldest of the three remarked. It was more
of a statement that a question.
"Who did you expect to find here?"
"You can never be too sure," Gul Arkaq replied slowly.
The soldiers' eyes darted around the ship, looking for anything
that might be suspicious--weapons, another person, anything. In
one hand they held their weapon, with the other a tricorder. Gul
Arkaq waved his weapon at B'Elanna.
"If you please, my dear, please stand up, hands raised above your
head, and turn around slowly."
"Why?" She knew why.
"Don't ask so many questions, just do as you're told."
Obeying the Gul's orders, B'Elanna stood and turned around.
With his free hand the Gul felt her body--both looking for any
weapon that she might have hidden away and also so he could lay
his hands upon her. When he began to get close to B'Elanna's
dagger, the half-Klingon giggled like she had heard Mroki's girls
do.
The unexpected sound of B'Elanna laughing caused the Cardassian
to stop his exploration. He'd seen some female Klingons over the
years, had even had sex with one once--even though she was an
unwilling participant. But he'd never heard one giggle like a
human.
"Sto-stop th-that," B'Elanna sputtered. "It t-t-tickles!" {And
if you touch me again, I'll skin you alive!}
Arkaq stepped back. This woman was a puzzlement. A wonder to
behold.
"What's your name, Klingon?"
"My name?" {Kahless, she hated pretending she was so dumb and
innocent!}
"Yes, your name," Arkaq repeated trying to remain patient. He'd
never seen such a naive Klingon--what a contradiction!
"Oh, it's..." B'Elanna searched her memory frantically trying to
come up with a name that would sound as unthreatening as
possible. "It's Lanni," she said, choosing a shortened version
of her own name.
"Lanni? That doesn't sound very Klingon."
"No. it's a name my father liked. He's human."
"Lanni?" he questioned again.
B'Elanna batted her dark eyes at the Cardie captain and added a
pout. "Don't you like it?" {Damn this was sickening. When would
the Maquis show up?}
"It's lovely, just like you," Arkaq replied smoothly. "Now if
you could tell me where you were going all by yourself?"
"Um..." B'Elanna bit her lip. "I was going to Risa." It was the
first planet she could think of that wasn't embroiled in a war.
"Risa?" Nothing could have stunned the Cardie more that to learn
that any Klingon, even an half-Klingon, would be interested in
going to Risa.
B'Elanna nodded.
"You are nowhere near Risa," he informed her. Tell me again
where you are going? This time I want the truth."
"You must be mistaken," B'Elanna insisted. "I'm sure I'm
following their directions exactly. Do you mind if I call up my
map?"
The Gul nodded.
B'Elanna chewed her lower lip with apparent nervousness and
punched in code into the ship's computer. She did it with
deliberate clumsiness having to reenter the series of commands
several times before a stellar map was displayed on her computer
screen. She smiled broadly at her accomplishment.
"See there's Risa," she said pointing to a flicker of light on
the screen."
Arkaq shook his head. "What you're pointing at is the scrap pit
recovery station on Mirax 9. Risa is here." He pointed at
another area on the map, far away from her present location.
"It can't be!"
"I assure you, it is."
"Then I'm going in the wrong direction!" I'll be late. They're
expecting me to start work next week!"
This piece of news caught the Gul's interest. He knew that Risa
was referred to as the 'Pleasure Planet.' "You are going to work
there?" he questioned.
B'Elanna giggled again. {Liberty, if you don't hurry up, I'm
going to be sick and I don't mean morning sick!} "Yeah my friend,
Sissy, says that they are always looking for friendly employees,
and that they were always on the lookout for employees with a
unique ethnic background. Sissy thought my Klingon half would
somehow appeal to them." Again, B'Elanna giggled. "She also
told me that the pay was very good."
"Did your friend tell you what these employees actually are
expected to do?" He motioned to his soldiers, who had stopped to
listen to her tale, to continue their exploration.
B'Elanna shrugged and reaching up she twirled a lock of hair
around her index finger. "Just that you have to keep the
customers happy. You know--listen to their stories, keep their
glasses full, stuff like that." {The Gul seems to be buying this
act of mine. Boy can men be stupid!}
"You do know that Risa is called the 'Pleasure Planet' by the
humans?
She smiled and her head bobbed. "That's 'cuz everyone has such a
good time. Sissy told me they have these giant blue lagoon type
swimming pools. They are suppose to be nice and warm with all
sorts of colorful fish that swim in them. I like fish!" {Yeah, I
like them all right...to eat! Hurry up, Liberty. What the hell
is keeping you?}
Arkaq couldn't believe this half-Klingon was so naive. "Did she
tell you that you'd be expected to swim in those lagoons naked?"
B'Elanna's eyes widened with apparent surprise. "Naked? You
mean no clothes?"
Arkaq nodded. He was enjoying this moment. Watching people
squirm was one of his favorite pastimes.
"No! N-no!" B'Elanna looked shocked.
"Yes, my dear." The Gul reached out with one scaley finger and
casually ran it around *Lanni's* neckline. "Not a stitch of
clothing on--naked as their day of birth. I wouldn't mind seeing
it for myself someday." He continued his exploration of the
neckline. B'Elanna gritted her teeth and remembered that the
safety of her and Tom's child was at stake, and she prayed that
he wouldn't find the...too late!
"What's this?" Arkaq asked when his finger caught on the chain.
B'Elanna's hand quickly reached up to stop the Cardassian but he
had already pulled the chain out from where it had laid hidden
beneath her shirt.
"It's just a gift," she explained, trying to kep her voice light
and non-threatening.
Spying the oval-shaped locket, Arkaq attempted to pry open the
halves of the pendant.
Covering his hands with her own, B'Elanna tired to stop his
quest. If he opened the locket and activated the hologram, he'd
know that her name wasn't Lanni--and he'd find out about Tom.
The Gul's curiosity was raised by her actions. "You must have
done something remarkable to be given such a beautiful object,"
he noted. "Why don't you want me looking at it?"
B'Elanna laughed nervously. "It's just a gift," she insisted.
"It's personal.
"If you don't remove your hands, Lanni, I'll have my soldiers
remove them for you--permanently. But I'd rather not have to do
that. I have a feeling we could become friends...*good friends*.
The emphasis he placed on the last words implied he wasn't
referring to a platonic relationship.
{I'll never to your *friend* you Cardie sonfabitch! Liberty,
where the hell are you?!} B'Elanna slowly dropped her hands,
though she would have loved to have wrapped her hands around the
corded throat of the Gul and squeezed the life out of him.
"That's better. now let's see this trinket you value."
The Gul's fingernail slipped between the halves of the pendant
and opened it. Instantly, he recognized the inner workings of a
classic holo-locket.
"Someone must have cared about you a great deal to give you one
of these. It's an expensive gift."
"Gul," one of the soldiers called out.
"Can't you see that I"m busy?" Arkaq snapped.
"But, sir, I'm detecting another life sign. The signal isn't
that strong, but it's definitely there."
Gul Arkaq looked up at B'Elanna, seeing her in a new light, his
interest in the locket momentarily suspended. "Where is he
hiding, my dear.?
"There is no one on this ship but me."
"It's not male, Gul Arkaq, it's another female."
{A female? Who? What? Oh, Gods! The baby?! I'm carrying a
girl?!}
"Locate the source!" the Cardie barked, his eyes never leaving
B'Elanna's face.
The soldier nodded to his compatriot, a taller man, to brandish
his weapon so he was able to concentrate on the readout from the
tricorder. He swept the ship carefully until he swung around in
B'Elanna's direction. Instantly, the signal grew stronger.
Nearing the woman, the tricorder began to beep loudly.
"I've discovered the source," he informed his captain. The
soldier paused, trying to come to terms with the readout.
"Spit it out!"
"It's her, sir. It's inside her."
"Inside?" Eyes widened with wonder. "You're pregnant?"
B'Elanna nodded.
This woman proved to be a constant surprise. He looked forward
to getting her to his ship so he'd have more time to unravel her
mystery.
* * * * * *
"Status!" Chakotay barked.
"Closing, sir, we'll be in firing range in three point two
seconds and in transporter range in two point four," Tuvok
replied.
"Good. Gerron, when I give the word, you'll deactivate the
cloak. As soon as the ship is visible, Tuvok, you'll fire upon
the Cardie ship. I want his weapon and propulsion systems
disabled, so make your shots count. As soon as we are in range,
we'll transport her on board. Then we're outta here! I don't
want any mistakes--timing is everything if she and we are going
to get out this alive."
"Aye, sir," they replied in unison.
* * * * * *
The Gul's attention returned to the locket and his forefinger
pressed the small button to activate the hologram. Immediately,
like he had done hundreds of times before, Tom Paris appeared and
his vow of love was replayed.
"How touching," Arkaq sneered. "And how revealing. I thought
you were innocent--but I see I was wrong." Arkaq dropped the
locket in disgust at what he'd just witnessed. "You had no
intention of going to Risa. You are in search of your child's
father. I may never have seen his face, but I'd never forget the
voice. Your lover is a Maquis. He's the one responsible for
destroying my first ship!"
{Good!}
"Revenge will be mine, Lanni--or is it B'Elanna? Turn this ship
inside out!" he ordered his soldiers. The men nodded and began
to pull open drawers and turned over anything that wasn't bolted
down. "And don't forget this," Arkaq kicked the trunk.
* * * * * *
"Drop the shields on my mark, Gerron."
"Aye, sir." The young Bajoran's fingers hovered over the
controls. His focus intent on his captain.
The Captain's dark eyes surveyed the situation they were flying
into. He relied more on experience than computer readouts.
"Now!" he shouted.
Gerron dropped the cloak. Tuvok took aim and fired. First a
photon torpedo disabled the Cardassian ship's weapons and then a
well-placed series of phaser shots at such close range
effectively paralyzed the vessel.
"As soon as you get a lock on her, transport."
* * * * * *
Everyone on board the Targ turned at the sound of the Liberty's
weapons firing on the Cardassian ship.
"Status!" the Gul barked into his comm badge.
"Weapons are down and propulsion is disabled, sir. It's the
Liberty again. They were cloaked this time and knew just where
to strike!"
B'Elanna smiled, glad that the ship had finally arrived. A
familiar static began to swim around her. Knowing she was about
to be transported, she quickly wrapped her arms around her
precious trunk and both she and all her belongings were beamed
off the Targ.
* * * * * *
Nella Troka, a member of the Maquis and a Trill, ran an old
medical tricorder over Liberty's new guest. Nella was the only
person on board that had any kind of medical training. One of
her former hosts had been a medic in a Trill military group--even
though it had been seven hosts ago--Nella still was considered
the Liberty's doctor when the need arose.
"You'll be happy to know you're fine," Nella announced shutting
the tricorder off. "Both you and your baby are doing well.
Though to be safe, you should probably supplement your diet with
some prenatal nutrients."
B'Elanna who had been laying on the examining table pulled
herself up, resting on her elbows. "Are you sure there's nothing
wrong?"
"Relax. You're both doing well." Nella smiled down at her
patient.
"That's a relief. Now if you could tell me where I could find
Tom."
"Tom?" There's no one on this ship by that name."
"This is the Liberty, isn't it?"
Nella nodded.
"He's the pilot," B'Elanna explained.
"Actually there was a Tom on the ship, he was the pilot, but all
of us called him Paris--but he's gone."
"Gone?" the half-Klingon questioned, her voice raised.
Nella nodded.
B'Elanna's blood froze in her veins. "Tom can't be. If he was
dead, I'd know it...I'd feel it."
"Wait a minute," Nella cautioned holding her hands up trying to
calm the woman. "I didn't say he was dead--just gone."
With relief, B'Elanna's blood flowed again. "Then where is he?"
The Trill sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. "We
don't know. Is he the father?"
"Yes. We met on Palmat."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? About what?"
"Tom Paris is not what I'd consider a family man. You are
probably better off without him."
B'Elanna was about to tell her to go to hell when another voice
piped up. "What going on in here? What's this about Paris?"
Nella and B'Elanna looked up to see the captain of the Liberty
enter the infirmary.
"Our guest is looking for Paris," Nella explained.
Chakotay's eyes widened. "Paris? Did you tell her he's not on
board?"
Nella nodded.
Grimacing, Chakotay moved next to B'Elanna. "What did Paris
promise you for you to have risked so much to find him?"
{Just his heart.} "I need to see him," B'Elanna said instead.
Nella placed a comforting hand on B'Elanna's shoulder and
squeezed. "I'll leave you two alone. Talk to him, B'Elanna.
The Captain's a good man."
With trepidation, B'Elanna watched the medic leave the infirmary
leaving her alone with Liberty's captain.
Chakotay eyed the woman carefully, and wondered what it was that
Tom Paris possessed that women were so interested in. Every time
Liberty was in port when Paris had been on board, at least one
and usually more women hovered around the pilot seeking his
attention. Of course, the tattooed man admitted, Paris was good
looking and came from a wealthy family, but other than that, what
did the women see in him? Couldn't they tell he was just leading
them on?
This particular woman was more of a puzzle. None of the others
had flown through space alone and braved the Cardassians' wrath
to be near the pilot. Perhaps it was her heritage that made her
so determined to be with Paris. He noted her forehead crests,
and realized that they bespoke of a Klingon heritage. Maybe it
was her Klingon half that spurred her on. Paris, as far as he
was concerned, was nothing more than a womanizer and a mercenary.
Fighting for anyone to pay his bar bills. What had he done this
time to make this woman come looking for him?
The Captain motioned to a pair of mismatched chairs with a wave
of his hand. "Let's have a seat." B'Elanna nodded and both took
a seat while Chakotay chose to straddle his chair. The Captain
folded his arms across his broad chest. "Tell me why are you are
looking for Tom Paris?"
"I'm afraid that's my business," B'Elanna countered. Her dark
eyes surveyed the man before her. She didn't want to tell him
anything more than necessary.
"Not any more it isn't." The captain's voice was soft, but his
tone was all business. "I not only saved your life, but put the
lives of everyone on this ship in jeopardy to rescue you from the
Cardies. Now you're going to tell me why you risked so much to
come looking for my former pilot. I won't bother you any more
than I have to."
B'Elanna looked away from the Captain, focusing instead on the
deck in an attempt to control her emotions, before she faced him
again. "Look, I'm very grateful for all you've done for me {and
for my unborn child} but if Tom isn't here, I promise I'll leave
the ship at the next port."
"That might take sometime. We aren't scheduled to be in port for
several weeks. We've recently performed repairs to the ship, our
cargo bays are full, and our energy supplies are at peak."
"So you finally got the port nacelle's frequency stabilized?"
B'Elanna asked remembering that Tom had told her about this
problem during their fancy dinner out.
"Yes, we..." He paused. "How did you know?" Realization dawned
on Chakotay. "Are you Paris' engineer? The one from Palmat?"
"Yes, my name is B'Elanna Torres. Now can you tell me where he
is. It's important that I see him."
"You and half the female population in this sector!" Chakotay
spat. He sprang up from his seat, annoyed at B'Elanna's
persistence.
"What do you mean?"
Chakotay's head snapped in her direction. "You don't think that
you are the only woman who thinks Tom Paris is in love with them
do you?" It was cruel to be so blunt, but he had his fill with
the cocky pilot. If this woman was so stupid to fly alone
through a war zone, then it was about time she faced some home
truths.
B'Elanna felt like she'd been hit by a phaser volley. It took
her a while to gather her wits and respond. "I'm not so naive to
believe that someone as handsome and as kind as Tom Paris hasn't
had his share of women chasing him, but what we had was
different--it was special!"
"That's what they all say. Usually they approach the ship
looking for him while we are still in port. I do have to give
you credit for your ingenuity, none of the others have tried to
follow him this far." Chakotay picked up the medical tricorder
that Nella had left on a side table and for lack of anything
better to do nervously tossed the item back and forth from one
hand to the other.
"Can you at least tell me where he went if he's not on the ship?"
B'Elanna asked repeating her earlier question.
"We don't know. The ship suffered some damage during a skirmish
with a Cardie patrol vessel. Paris volunteered to take a shuttle
to Selka and bring back some help. Like an idiot, I let him go.
That's the last we saw of him or the shuttle."
"Maybe he was captured," B'Elanna offered. "Did you go look for
him?"
Chakotay stopped tossing the tricorder. "Of course we looked for
him, and didn't find anything. We didn't find anything. The
Selkan's that finally did come to our aid and told us that they
had been lucky enough to intercept a communication between two
Cardie ships. Tom Paris had fled, leaving us high and dry."
"I don't believe he'd do that," B'Elanna said defending her
missing mate.
Chakotay sighed and decided to try another tactic. "You say you
met Paris on Palmat?"
She nodded.
"We were only on that planet for a few weeks. Paris has been
with the Maquis over a year. I think I know him better than you
do."
The Klingon shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm not here to argue
that point with you. The fact remains that I...still..need to
f... B'Elanna brought one hand to her stomach and one to her
mouth. She was long overdue to eat, and when that happened she
was prone to nausea since she became pregnant. Simple morning
sickness she could handle, but possessing the Klingon famous
redundant stomachs when nausea hit, it hit hard.
"What can I get you? A bucket?" Chakotay asked, clearly
unraveled at what he was witnessing.
A nod. Not daring to open her mouth to speak.
Quickly Chakotay found an appropriately sized container and
passed it to her. Accepting the container, B'Elanna moved to the
back of the room to achieve some semblance of privacy. While she
was heaving, the Captain looked through the drawers in the
infirmary for something to counteract the nausea. Having
assisted Nella over the last year, he knew what to look for.
Hypospray in hand, he approached B'Elanna. "I promise this wont'
hurt, it should help you feel better very soon," he promised and
moved her dark locks away from the nap of her neck so he could
inject her.
With lightning reflexes B'Elanna jerked away from him.
"I'm not trying to hurt you," he reiterated.
"That may be...but it might hurt the child I'm carrying."
His jaw dropped and the hypo rattled to the floor. "You're
pregnant?"
A nod.
"Paris is the father?"
Another nod.
Nothing was ever easy, Chakotay mused.
Several weeks later...
Alone in the section of the ship for a change, B'Elanna sat
cross-legged on her bunk in what had been Tom's cabin. She
removed the necklace from around her throat and cradled the
precious locket in her hands. It was what was considered night
on the ship. Most of the crew were sound asleep or partying in
Liberty's mess hall. A skeleton crew manned the bridge, while
the Liberty took refuge in a secret pocket of protection in the
Badlands. Chakotay had explained to B'Elanna when she first
witnessed this phenomenon that it was the equivalent of an eye of
a hurricane, except this one remained stationary. The crew
called it "Sanctuary."
With a trembling finger and with tears flowing down her cheeks,
B'Elanna opened the locket and pressed the button to activate the
hologram. In silence she listened to Tom Paris' last words to
her.
"...only and always."
In the past, the words always made her feel confident and
cherished. Listening to the words tonight she wondered if things
had changed. Her life certainly had since that day on Palmat
when he left. She was now a Maquis. In fact, she'd been of so
much help during her time on board, that when the Liberty's
engineer had suffered serous injuries during a run-in with a
Starfleet ship, Chakotay had promoted her to the position of
Chief Engineer. It was a lot more fulfilling than fixing Mroki's
old broken down equipment, now she was repairing Chakotay's old
broken down equipment. Not much of a distinction when you
thought about it, but it made her feel more needed. The activity
was also keeping her busy. She found she seldom had a moment to
herself anymore.
So taking advantage of her time alone she activated her hand-held
computer terminal and began her log.
"Computer, activate log."
::::Recording::::
B'Elanna made herself comfortable, adjusting her pillow behind
her back. "Boy this has been awhile, I don't think I've entered
anything in my personal log for weeks, but I came to a conclusion
since I last made an entry. I told Chakotay that I'm committing
myself to the Maquis cause. I believe in why they are
fighting...they are brave men and women who need me...and I need
them.
"They need me to help them and I've grown to respect their
Captain. He's a good man. I know he told me that he and Tom
didn't get along very well, but I like him. I'm finding that I
seek him out for advice and I've learned that he's wise and above
all else, he's there when I need him. Perhaps deep inside I see
him as a replacement for my father--offering me those pearls of
wisdom that I never received growing up, unless you could count
my mother's admonitions to follow Klingon tradition. Snort!
"Last week Chakotay took me on something he calls a vision quest.
I'd been complaining to him about my Klingon half. I guess he
thought it would help me learn to control my temper. While I was
honored that he shared this part of his heritage with me, I had
my doubts that this quest would help..."
With one hand placed on the Akoonah, and the other clutching a
well-worn stone, B'Elanna slipped into a spiritual trance.
Opening her eyes the half-Klingon found herself in a forest.
She'd expected that, it was one of the few things Chakotay told
her to expect before she began her vision quest. Looking to her
right then left B'Elanna observed her surroundings. A variety of
tall fir trees and deciduous trees made up the forest. The new
green color on the latter trees indicated that the forest was
experiencing a spring, or maybe since this was really a state of
mind, it meant that she was in the spring of her life. Funny,
B'Elanna thought, some days it felt that she had to be in autumn
or winter. The sound of a bird screeching made her look up. A
falcon* circled overhead getting lower and lower until it finally
perched on a strong branch not far from where B'Elanna stood.
Chakotay had informed her that the first animal she spotted would
be the animal to guide her, so she took a tentative step forward.
"Hello," she began. "Are you my Spirit Guide?"
The falcon tilted its regal head to one side and seemed to
contemplate this newcomer to the forest. From within her mind,
B'Elanna heard the falcon respond.
"I am."
"Good." {Now how the hell do you talk to an animal who's suppose
to be wiser than you?}
"Is it good?" the bird questioned.
"Isn't is suppose to be?" she countered.
"Depends. Why did you come?"
Already B'Elanna felt exasperated and they hadn't even exchanged
more than a few words. She shrugged. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
"You're wrong," she insisted.
"No, I'm not," the bird stubbornly replied. "This forest is the
place for truths. You must begin by being true to yourself. Why
did you come?"
"Because Chak--"
The falcon spread its wings and flew away from her.
"Stop!" B'Elanna called out. "STOP!"
"Are you ready to speak truths?" the animal guide called out from
above.
"I...ah...yes."
"Then tell me," the falcon demanded perching on a stout branch.
"I...ah...I'm here to help control my temper. A friend suggested
that I give it a try."
"Do you come for yourself, or because of your friend's
suggestion?"
"Both maybe."
"Not good enough."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to know why you are here--the truth. What is it you
seek?" the bird questioned.
"Guess I'm not sure. I'm confused."
"Perhaps, but maybe you just can't speak the words, the falcon
suggested. "Perhaps your pride gets in the way."
B'Elanna wrapped her arms around herself and sank to the forest
floor. Looking up at the bird, her eyes shone with moisture.
"I...I suppose the real reason I'm here is to find out if he
still cares," she admitted. "I need to know if my baby's father
still loves me."
"You don't know?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be here," B'Elanna spat.
The falcon sat silent for what seemed like an eternity. Finally
the bird blinked twice and replied. "Your soul is troubled.
You are torn."
B'Elanna looked past her animal guide focusing on the forest
beyond--the wind had begun to stir the leaves on the trees. "I
am troubled. The man I love is gone and I have no way to look
for him. Someone else has befriended me. He's kind and looks
after me and the child. I'm indebted to him."
"Trust in fate," the falcon advised.
{Trust in fate?} The familiar words shook her to the core. She
needed to think and plan for the future. She had her baby to
think of. It was easy to rely upon the uncertainty of fate when
you had only yourself to be responsible for."
"I can't just trust in fate!" B'Elanna bellowed. "There's too
much at stake!"
"There's more than you know. Bow to fate!"
"Fate? FATE!!!" I'm sick to death of that word. My fate is what
I make it. My fate is for me to decide!"
"You don't know the complete truth," the falcon replied.
"I know enough. Enough to make my own decisions. My mate left
his ship. He didn't return to me. I have to rethink my future."
"Then why did you come? Why did you seek me if you are not
prepared to accept the truth?"
B'Elanna was silent in her anger except for a low growl that
emanated deep within.
"You must seek the truth!!!" the falcon demanded. "You must be
willing to become a voyager on a sea of fate!"
B'Elanna's fingers picked up a rock and hurled it at the bird
just as the falcon spread its wings and flew off the branch. The
half-Klingon narrowly missed her target. {Truth, fate...what
difference did it make?}
Chakotay ducked just in time to avoid being hit by the rock that
B'Elanna had been clutching in her hand. Never in all his years
in witnessing others venture on spirit quests, had he ever seen
anyone throw the rock.
When B'Elanna opened her eyes she looked both confused and angry.
"B'Elanna are you okay?" her captain asked. "What happened?"
She passed him the akoonah that she still held in her other hand.
"I don't think these spirit quests are for me."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I almost killed my animal guide," she explained.
B'Elanna walked out of the captain's cabin, leaving the occupant
slack-jawed and speechless.
* * *
"I wanted the spirit guide thing to work. I really did, but it
didn't. But I've resolved myself to serving on the Liberty for
the time being. Chakotay assures me that as soon as he reaches a
safe port, I can leave the ship. He knows of a few colonies who
sympathize with the Maquis. There he said he'll help me find
work and a place to live. I can repair engines and ships for the
Maquis, while at the same time making a home for myself and my
child.
"I don't know exactly when I started to think of my future with
just me and the baby, in the past Tom was always a part of the
equation. Not any more. Maybe it's self-preservation.
Chakotay, did try to find Tom, against his better judgement, but
all queries came back unknown--well, all except one. A Bolian
ship, who was friendly to the Maquis, said they had seen someone
that matched Tom's description. Some on the ship even swore it
was him--but said that the man was calling himself Nick Locarno.
This "Nick" had flown through their area of space shortly after I
had boarded the Liberty. He'd been surrounded by beautiful women
and had swindled the Bolians out of several cases of Dirumbian
ale. Sounds like too much of a coincidence. I had to finally
face the fact that what Chakotay had told me about Tom was the
truth. The truth hits hard.
"I guess that was when I found myself relying on the good captain
more and more. For a while, I thought maybe there could be
something between us, but then I had to remind myself that he has
another. One of the Bajorans on the ship--a woman named Seska--
told me that they are in a relationship. To me it seems like a
one-sided affair--she loving him, more than he loves her. But
what do I know about love affairs? I certainly haven't had much
luck myself. Tomorrow I'm going to see Nella and I'm having the
scar removed. Maybe someday I'll even be brave enough to stop
wearing the locket.
"Computer end log entry."
* * * * * *
Tom flipped open a small hand-held recording device and sat down
on his bed that had recently been stripped of its linen and began
to record.
"Well I'm packing--what little I have that is--a comb, a change
of clothes, and my shaving kit. I've said goodbye to the doctor
and tomorrow Captain Janeway is sending a shuttle to transport me
to Deep Space 9. From there I'm to board her ship. It's called
Voyager--sounds harmless.
"Just when I thought my life was going to remain unchanged--at
least for the next few years--things get turned upside down.
Just when I think that I may never see B'Elanna--I have hope in
my heart that we'll be together again.
"Yesterday, while I was working in the motor repair bay, this
determined redhead approached me. She told me her name was
Captain Kathryn Janeway and that she had once served with my
father. Like that's suppose to impress me! Fat chance! But I
was impressed that she wanted me to go with her--even if it was
with the intent of ratting out my former Maquis crewmates. I
think she thought I was offended--that I might not do it. Hell,
I would have done anything if it meant that I might be able to
find B'Elanna again. Gods, I miss her! It's been too long since
we've been together. But damn, I have to go as an observer! An
observer?!?! I told Janeway that she couldn't find a better
pilot than me. Secretly, I think she enjoyed the look of
disappointment she must have been evident on my face when she
told me I'd go as an observer or not at all. But that's okay, as
long as I'm out of this prison I might have the opportunity to
look for my mate. The next time I make a log entry, I should be
on board Janeway's ship."
"Computer end log entry."
End Chapter 5
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