**** **** **** ****
Chapter Four
Keeping a low profile on the planet proved easier than Chakotay had imagined. It was not the planet or its
natives', however, that gave this mission a degree of difficulty - it was his companion in the shuttle. As
always, B'Elanna was efficient and focused. She performed each scan with the quick, practiced skill of a
brilliant engineer. She didn't cry; she didn't complain. She didn't even bother to mention what they already
knew - that the most important person in her life was stranded down there, perhaps dead, and that if he
was...
Well, she just didn't mention it.
But Chakotay knew her emotions, all the same - he saw each and every one of them cross across her
features - the hope she felt when they came across a possible lead, the frustration and the despair when that
lead panned out. And through it all, a love that wouldn't allow her to rest until her mate was safely with her
once again. That love was so strong, it even eclipsed her anger - anger at the unfair fates that kept trying to
tear her and Tom apart. And that was quite an accomplishment - B'Elanna's anger was not easily eclipsed.
And therein lay Chakotay's problem - B'Elanna's emotions. She was handling them just fine. It was
Chakotay who found the entire shuttle ride an ordeal as he watched his oldest friend struggle to maintain a
balance between her personal feelings and her professional duty.
Chakotay smiled, just slightly. And just imagine - it was *Tom Paris* that had her so worked up.
The Commander shook his head. A few years ago...hell, even a year ago, he would have considered that
fact to be incredible. Now, he prayed to the spirits of his ancestors that today's search wouldn't be for
nothing.
Soon, it seemed the Spirits had decided to answer.
"Kahless..." A whispered expression came from B'Elanna's terminal, and Chakotay stiffened in his seat.
"What? What is it?"
He turned to B'Elanna, expecting the worst, but when he saw her she looked radiant.
"I'm getting readings of human DNA," she reported, hands flying over her console. She looked at
Chakotay with a huge smile.
"I think it might be our officers."
**** **** **** ****
If there was one thing he truly hated - it was waiting.
Tom had been waiting for over a month now, and he was tired of the responses he kept getting to his tests.
It would end today, he promised, steadying his hand as held the dropper over the test culture. If he didn't
make the drop just right...
The serum hit the mixture in the dish beneath it right on target, immediately beginning to react with the
compound into which it had been introduced. The mixture seemed to be responding positively, the culture
turning from green to blue...to indigo...
And then molecular cohesion began to degrade. Within moments, the hissing and popping had subsided
and the mixture within the dish had completely burnt itself out.
"Damn it!"
Tom's fist connected with the lab bench's surface, upsetting everything on its top and knocking an empty
beaker off of its edge. The glass shattered as it hit the floor.
Tom sank his head into his hands, tearing off his spectacles and tossing them onto the bench in order to
massage his throbbing temples. Negative. The hundredth test had been run...and the hundredth test had
come out negative. His research was at a standstill.
And that was where he was when Euran Bree'aje entered that morning carrying a breakfast tray.
"Good morning, Tom," the older man greeted cheerily. He took in Tom's mood, his slumped shoulders and
the empty culture dish that sat before him. "You're looking miserable today."
Tom snorted, but didn't look up. His only greeting was an off-handed wave.
Euran set the tray down with a sigh. "You never could just say a simple 'good morning'," he mumbled.
Then he saw the shards of glass littering the floor.
"We should just about be out of those by now, don't you think?" he asked referring to the beaker. "Break
any more and we'll be mixing serums in our soup dishes."
Tom released a frustrated sigh, but he did finally sit up.
"It's hopeless," he said.
And Euran chuckled.
"Hopeless? You've been working on this serum for what?...a month now? And already you say it is
hopeless?"
Tom scowled at the man and limped to a nearby file cabinet, collecting what he needed.
"No," he corrected. "I've been working on *five* serums now for *twelve* months and now I'm saying
that this one is hopeless."
Euran was amused - you had to be to keep sane in places like this where matters of life and death were a
routine. But he sobered somewhat, when he saw Tom squinting as he perused the files in his hand. The
strained expression that had appeared on his face continued even when he'd retrieved his spectacles.
"You're having those headaches again, aren't you?"
Tom didn't respond, but his silence spoke loud enough.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have come in so early this morning." Then, seeing the sheepish look that crossed
Tom's features, said, hotly, "Or should I say, perhaps you should have left last night altogether."
"Euran..."
"No." Bree'aje cut Tom off with a raised hand and a single syllable. He sat down in a chair near the
window by which Tom stood - it was probably one of the only items of furniture in the whole room that
wasn't hidden beneath piles of research equipment.
"Those people out there aren't going to get any better any faster if you work yourself into an early grave."
Tom winced, the meaning behind Euran's words clear - if he worked himself into an early grave those
people out there wouldn't be getting better...period. Tom understood that more than anyone. The problem
was - if he was their only hope, how could he rest until that hope was realized? He's been working on a
cure for over a year now, non-stop, and still there was nothing. How could he sleep in the face of such
failure?
Euran watched him as he stared out the window. It was always disturbing seeing Tom like that - staring
like he was, even though they both knew he couldn't see much further past the windowpane. It was a little
eerie...as if he were seeing things that anyone else could only guess at. Euran turned away.
He kept his tone carefully neutral. "Perhaps it would do you good to stay in for the day. You know? Go
home...get a little rest...spend some time with your *wife*."
He tried very hard not to sound persuasive, but Tom glared at him anyhow. It had long ago been
established that the younger man didn't like discussing his personal life. What little he had of one, anyhow.
For a while there, after the accident, it had been so touch and go...But finally, Tom had begun to accept his
life. He and Lisave had begun to re-build their lives together...and then suddenly everything seemed to fall
apart. It was rough for a while - Tom would come to the infirmary haggard and haunted and barely able to
look anyone in the eyes. And now, Euran hardly even saw the couple together anymore, and he'd never
been told why, although he could make several guesses.
However, it was obvious that Tom wasn't interested in his guesses...or his advice.
"I just need to make another trip into the Luari Moch'raen province. They're supposed to be getting in the
next quarter's shipment early. There's some compounds I ordered that might be able to stabilize the effects
of the S5 I've been experimenting with."
Euran shook his head. "Tom, that trip takes at least a week. You've already been twice this quarter - you're
going to wear yourself out."
"I don't have any other choice. I need those compounds. If I can't get the S5 under control we'll have to
scrap the whole project. It's got a rate of molecular dissolution worse than the first series we tried. But if I
can get a handle on it we might be able figure out what to do about the S3's random holding patterns."
Euran laughed. He'd been a doctor his whole life and a year ago this man had been telling him he didn't
know anything about medicine. Now he was talking rings around the older physician, and Euran was
happily struggling just to keep up.
"Fine, fine. You're too stubborn for your own good. But I think Moch'raen can wait till tomorrow. Why
don't you go home now and let me take the mid-level collections. You can go back to playing hero once
you've had a little sleep."
Tom smiled sheepishly and raised an eyebrow with a sigh.
"And you call me stubborn. When are you going to stop coddling me, old man?"
Euran raised a brow, as well. "When are you going to start taking better care of yourself so I don't have
to?"
Tom laughed. "Alright, alright." He grabbed his cane but left everything else as it was. Euran was right -
he could use a little sleep, and if he took any of his work with him he knew he'd just end up right back at
the lab.
He exchanged a goodbye with Dr. Bree'aje as he left, but then found himself stopping at the door, suddenly
overcome with some strange, strong feeling of contentment that he couldn't explain. Euran Bree'aje had
become more than just a friend to him - he was like a father. And though Tom's true father had always
been supportive of his son, Tom felt somehow as though he'd been looking for the sort of paternal approval
he saw in Euran all of his life.
"Doctor," he called out from the door, leaning back into the room. "I really do appreciate it. I owe you,
you know." And then he was gone, and behind him, standing in the center of the room, stricken as though
he'd been shot, Dr. Euran Bree'aje reeled with affection...and guilt.
"No, Tom. It is I who owe you..."
And he watched out the window as the young man walked away, feeling the weight of his sins heavy on his
shoulders.
**** **** **** ****
"Just a little farther. I see the shuttle just up ahead."
Chakotay chose his steps carefully, not wanting to lead his pregnant companion onto a path where she
might fall and injure herself and the baby. It was strange seeing B'Elanna like this - maternal and round
with child. Chakotay had always felt like he had a little sister in B'Elanna, an odd sensation for a man with
no family left in the living world to compare her to. So this baby made him feel like an uncle. 'Uncle
Chakotay,' he thought, smiling. Who'd have thought? Now if they could only find the baby's daddy, they'd
be one nice, big...
Chakotay's thoughts faded away. It seemed like the whole world faded away. Finally, they were there, in
the clearing they'd been cutting their way towards through the brush. And there sat the shuttle, and beside
it...
Chakotay paled.
B'Elanna, not noticing that her companion had stopped, ran right into him.
"Chakotay, what the hell..."
The Commander put his hands on her shoulders, at first, she believed, to help her regain her balance. But
even after she had done so, he didn't let her go, didn't move.
"Chakotay, are you going to tell me why..."
And then she looked at his face, and she'd never felt such fear before in her entire life.
"What is it?"
"B'Elanna..."
"What_is_it?"
When he didn't answer, she pushed by him, suddenly desperate to get to the shuttle.
"B'Elanna, no! Wait..."
And then she saw it, and both hands flew to her mouth.
"Oh, Kahless!"
And then she fainted.
Chapter Four
Keeping a low profile on the planet proved easier than Chakotay had imagined. It was not the planet or its
natives', however, that gave this mission a degree of difficulty - it was his companion in the shuttle. As
always, B'Elanna was efficient and focused. She performed each scan with the quick, practiced skill of a
brilliant engineer. She didn't cry; she didn't complain. She didn't even bother to mention what they already
knew - that the most important person in her life was stranded down there, perhaps dead, and that if he
was...
Well, she just didn't mention it.
But Chakotay knew her emotions, all the same - he saw each and every one of them cross across her
features - the hope she felt when they came across a possible lead, the frustration and the despair when that
lead panned out. And through it all, a love that wouldn't allow her to rest until her mate was safely with her
once again. That love was so strong, it even eclipsed her anger - anger at the unfair fates that kept trying to
tear her and Tom apart. And that was quite an accomplishment - B'Elanna's anger was not easily eclipsed.
And therein lay Chakotay's problem - B'Elanna's emotions. She was handling them just fine. It was
Chakotay who found the entire shuttle ride an ordeal as he watched his oldest friend struggle to maintain a
balance between her personal feelings and her professional duty.
Chakotay smiled, just slightly. And just imagine - it was *Tom Paris* that had her so worked up.
The Commander shook his head. A few years ago...hell, even a year ago, he would have considered that
fact to be incredible. Now, he prayed to the spirits of his ancestors that today's search wouldn't be for
nothing.
Soon, it seemed the Spirits had decided to answer.
"Kahless..." A whispered expression came from B'Elanna's terminal, and Chakotay stiffened in his seat.
"What? What is it?"
He turned to B'Elanna, expecting the worst, but when he saw her she looked radiant.
"I'm getting readings of human DNA," she reported, hands flying over her console. She looked at
Chakotay with a huge smile.
"I think it might be our officers."
**** **** **** ****
If there was one thing he truly hated - it was waiting.
Tom had been waiting for over a month now, and he was tired of the responses he kept getting to his tests.
It would end today, he promised, steadying his hand as held the dropper over the test culture. If he didn't
make the drop just right...
The serum hit the mixture in the dish beneath it right on target, immediately beginning to react with the
compound into which it had been introduced. The mixture seemed to be responding positively, the culture
turning from green to blue...to indigo...
And then molecular cohesion began to degrade. Within moments, the hissing and popping had subsided
and the mixture within the dish had completely burnt itself out.
"Damn it!"
Tom's fist connected with the lab bench's surface, upsetting everything on its top and knocking an empty
beaker off of its edge. The glass shattered as it hit the floor.
Tom sank his head into his hands, tearing off his spectacles and tossing them onto the bench in order to
massage his throbbing temples. Negative. The hundredth test had been run...and the hundredth test had
come out negative. His research was at a standstill.
And that was where he was when Euran Bree'aje entered that morning carrying a breakfast tray.
"Good morning, Tom," the older man greeted cheerily. He took in Tom's mood, his slumped shoulders and
the empty culture dish that sat before him. "You're looking miserable today."
Tom snorted, but didn't look up. His only greeting was an off-handed wave.
Euran set the tray down with a sigh. "You never could just say a simple 'good morning'," he mumbled.
Then he saw the shards of glass littering the floor.
"We should just about be out of those by now, don't you think?" he asked referring to the beaker. "Break
any more and we'll be mixing serums in our soup dishes."
Tom released a frustrated sigh, but he did finally sit up.
"It's hopeless," he said.
And Euran chuckled.
"Hopeless? You've been working on this serum for what?...a month now? And already you say it is
hopeless?"
Tom scowled at the man and limped to a nearby file cabinet, collecting what he needed.
"No," he corrected. "I've been working on *five* serums now for *twelve* months and now I'm saying
that this one is hopeless."
Euran was amused - you had to be to keep sane in places like this where matters of life and death were a
routine. But he sobered somewhat, when he saw Tom squinting as he perused the files in his hand. The
strained expression that had appeared on his face continued even when he'd retrieved his spectacles.
"You're having those headaches again, aren't you?"
Tom didn't respond, but his silence spoke loud enough.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have come in so early this morning." Then, seeing the sheepish look that crossed
Tom's features, said, hotly, "Or should I say, perhaps you should have left last night altogether."
"Euran..."
"No." Bree'aje cut Tom off with a raised hand and a single syllable. He sat down in a chair near the
window by which Tom stood - it was probably one of the only items of furniture in the whole room that
wasn't hidden beneath piles of research equipment.
"Those people out there aren't going to get any better any faster if you work yourself into an early grave."
Tom winced, the meaning behind Euran's words clear - if he worked himself into an early grave those
people out there wouldn't be getting better...period. Tom understood that more than anyone. The problem
was - if he was their only hope, how could he rest until that hope was realized? He's been working on a
cure for over a year now, non-stop, and still there was nothing. How could he sleep in the face of such
failure?
Euran watched him as he stared out the window. It was always disturbing seeing Tom like that - staring
like he was, even though they both knew he couldn't see much further past the windowpane. It was a little
eerie...as if he were seeing things that anyone else could only guess at. Euran turned away.
He kept his tone carefully neutral. "Perhaps it would do you good to stay in for the day. You know? Go
home...get a little rest...spend some time with your *wife*."
He tried very hard not to sound persuasive, but Tom glared at him anyhow. It had long ago been
established that the younger man didn't like discussing his personal life. What little he had of one, anyhow.
For a while there, after the accident, it had been so touch and go...But finally, Tom had begun to accept his
life. He and Lisave had begun to re-build their lives together...and then suddenly everything seemed to fall
apart. It was rough for a while - Tom would come to the infirmary haggard and haunted and barely able to
look anyone in the eyes. And now, Euran hardly even saw the couple together anymore, and he'd never
been told why, although he could make several guesses.
However, it was obvious that Tom wasn't interested in his guesses...or his advice.
"I just need to make another trip into the Luari Moch'raen province. They're supposed to be getting in the
next quarter's shipment early. There's some compounds I ordered that might be able to stabilize the effects
of the S5 I've been experimenting with."
Euran shook his head. "Tom, that trip takes at least a week. You've already been twice this quarter - you're
going to wear yourself out."
"I don't have any other choice. I need those compounds. If I can't get the S5 under control we'll have to
scrap the whole project. It's got a rate of molecular dissolution worse than the first series we tried. But if I
can get a handle on it we might be able figure out what to do about the S3's random holding patterns."
Euran laughed. He'd been a doctor his whole life and a year ago this man had been telling him he didn't
know anything about medicine. Now he was talking rings around the older physician, and Euran was
happily struggling just to keep up.
"Fine, fine. You're too stubborn for your own good. But I think Moch'raen can wait till tomorrow. Why
don't you go home now and let me take the mid-level collections. You can go back to playing hero once
you've had a little sleep."
Tom smiled sheepishly and raised an eyebrow with a sigh.
"And you call me stubborn. When are you going to stop coddling me, old man?"
Euran raised a brow, as well. "When are you going to start taking better care of yourself so I don't have
to?"
Tom laughed. "Alright, alright." He grabbed his cane but left everything else as it was. Euran was right -
he could use a little sleep, and if he took any of his work with him he knew he'd just end up right back at
the lab.
He exchanged a goodbye with Dr. Bree'aje as he left, but then found himself stopping at the door, suddenly
overcome with some strange, strong feeling of contentment that he couldn't explain. Euran Bree'aje had
become more than just a friend to him - he was like a father. And though Tom's true father had always
been supportive of his son, Tom felt somehow as though he'd been looking for the sort of paternal approval
he saw in Euran all of his life.
"Doctor," he called out from the door, leaning back into the room. "I really do appreciate it. I owe you,
you know." And then he was gone, and behind him, standing in the center of the room, stricken as though
he'd been shot, Dr. Euran Bree'aje reeled with affection...and guilt.
"No, Tom. It is I who owe you..."
And he watched out the window as the young man walked away, feeling the weight of his sins heavy on his
shoulders.
**** **** **** ****
"Just a little farther. I see the shuttle just up ahead."
Chakotay chose his steps carefully, not wanting to lead his pregnant companion onto a path where she
might fall and injure herself and the baby. It was strange seeing B'Elanna like this - maternal and round
with child. Chakotay had always felt like he had a little sister in B'Elanna, an odd sensation for a man with
no family left in the living world to compare her to. So this baby made him feel like an uncle. 'Uncle
Chakotay,' he thought, smiling. Who'd have thought? Now if they could only find the baby's daddy, they'd
be one nice, big...
Chakotay's thoughts faded away. It seemed like the whole world faded away. Finally, they were there, in
the clearing they'd been cutting their way towards through the brush. And there sat the shuttle, and beside
it...
Chakotay paled.
B'Elanna, not noticing that her companion had stopped, ran right into him.
"Chakotay, what the hell..."
The Commander put his hands on her shoulders, at first, she believed, to help her regain her balance. But
even after she had done so, he didn't let her go, didn't move.
"Chakotay, are you going to tell me why..."
And then she looked at his face, and she'd never felt such fear before in her entire life.
"What is it?"
"B'Elanna..."
"What_is_it?"
When he didn't answer, she pushed by him, suddenly desperate to get to the shuttle.
"B'Elanna, no! Wait..."
And then she saw it, and both hands flew to her mouth.
"Oh, Kahless!"
And then she fainted.