The bridge crew was silent, lost in their own thoughts. Janeway took a quick analysis of each member of her crew present. Chakotay was keeping his face totally devoid of emotion, a sure sign that he was in deep distress. Tuvok was, as usual, impassive, though Janeway detected a hidden emotion in the way the Vulcan held his hands. Harry Kim was staring at the bulkheads, not seeing his panel, looking at where Tom used to fly, his expression lost. B'Elanna Torres was seated on a step that separated the upper and lower levels of the bridge, her face on that Janeway would tentatively identify as mourning, though angry.
And as for herself? Tom Paris was the best pilot she had ever seen; his brash comment five years ago proven time and again. He had developed a long way from his penal colony days. He had become as loyal as any Starfleet officer, as comical and more so than anyone she knew, and a sensitive heart that he had tried to hide but, ironically, B'Elanna had dragged out of him.
How would the crew function without his sly mind? His quick wit? His ever ready quirk of a smile? Tom had been the first one to accept the Harry Kim from the parallel dimension when he had joined them.
She had a feeling that morale was going to be low for a little while. She even knew that she herself was not excluded from that lack of morale. It would be rather dull without Tom Paris.
Kim finally broke the brooding silence. "I can't believe he's gone. I keep expecting him to waltz in here, say something funny about being late, and plop down in his chair."
"Face it, Harry," Torres' bitter voice came from under her hands. "He's gone." She growled softly.
Chakotay suppressed his own anger only by sheer force of will. "Yes, and you don't have to be so harsh, B'Elanna. Try to have some restraint."
B'Elanna stood and headed for the doors to the lift.
Janeway frowned. "B'Elanna, where are you going?"
B'Elanna paused only long enough to throw her words over her shoulder. "I'm going to a holodeck where I can yell at people and rip them to shreds without getting my rank taken away for murder." And she was soon out the sliding doors.
I have to start some semblance of order here. We need something to preoccupy our minds.
Janeway immediately thought of the proper solution. "Tuvok, backtrack over our records of…six months. Cross examine any humid planetoid that Seven had joined the away team. Once you have found that, chart a course, the fastest course, to it and come find me. We'll research the cueproan one ounce at a time if we have to. Harry, assist Tuvok. Chakotay, come with me. First we have to round up B'Elanna—we need her quick mind—then we'll go have a chat with Neelix. We have to get to the bottom of this before another of my crew dies. I want some sort of headway in two hours. Get busy."
B'Elanna Torres shed her outer uniform jacket as she entered the smoky, hazy planet. She tossed it carelessly on a large rock. No one would interrupt her unless they dared the elements with her.
"Computer, disengage safety protocols," B'Elanna growled, dropping into a flexible crouch, her fingers curled, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny as she moved deeper into Cardassian territory.
"Safety protocols are off. Warning: safety protocols are off," the Computer's voice said in its monotone.
B'Elanna didn't bother to answer; she spotted her first enemy skulking behind a boulder group. From experience she knew others would be behind her, trying to capture or kill her. Most likely the latter.
A multiple snare behind her warned her of her quarry. She grabbed the hand that suddenly appeared over her shoulder and threw the Cardassian into a rock.
As other Cardassians flowed toward her, maneuvering past her dead friends' bodies, memories rose unbiddingly from her mind. She recalled the time when she first met Tom with the Marquis. He was pompous, arrogant, conceited, and the most romantic man B'Elanna had ever met. She had resisted then, and even when they were reunited with the Voyager crew after being stuck in the Delta Quadrant. She had not wanted anything to do with "the Heartbreaker". But that had only interested him more. He had shown up everywhere: at her quarters, in Engineering, in the galley when she ate—she couldn't be rid of him. And there came a time when she didn't want to be rid of him, and so they shortly after became a couple. He hadn't cared about her half-Klingon heritage—he had a hot enough temper of his own to match—and he hadn't let her blame her shortcomings on it, either. He was responsible for her spiritual growth as she found him to be kind, understanding, sympathetic, and erratic with little gifts, a far cry from "the Heartbreaker" she had first known.
With a cry, B'Elanna savagely attacked the group of Cardassians surrounding her. They outnumbered her ten to one, but she didn't mind the odds. She fought hand-to-hand, scoring hits and having hits scored. Blood ran down her face from a lucky punch but her anger was up and she paid it no heed, flinging another Cardassian into the fray.
And, suddenly, she wasn't the only one there.
Chakotay's jacket was off as well and he was charging into the melee, not caring about the incredible odds. His face was one of fury and he used one boxing skill after another. He and B'Elanna fought off all twenty Cardassians until a pile lay at their feet.
They were both breathing heavily as they walked back to gather their jackets near the lone door.
Finally, B'Elanna couldn't stand the silence. "Where's the Captain?"
"She's waiting outside," Chakotay replied, shrugging into his uniform jacket.
B'Elanna quickly readjusted her hair, not sure what to say. She started for the door when Chakotay's voice stopped her.
"You can't change it and you can't take it back. He knew you loved him. Your argument was petty and he knew that. Stop blaming yourself."
B'Elanna stopped dead in her tracks. Chakotay's uncanny ability to know her thoughts sometimes was unnerving. She had once loved him…Shaking her head, she slowly turned around. "It doesn't make it any easier. I keep hearing his voice. His…last words…" Her voice caught on a sob. Embarrassed, she spun away and strode toward the door again.
B'Elanna faced Captain Janeway with a façade of calm. "Captain," she greeted.
Janeway was not fooled. "If you are going to insist on using the holodeck with safety precautions offline, at least bring something to wipe the blood away with. As it is, use this," Janeway said as she handed B'Elanna a clean cloth. "And come with us, please. I have an idea."
Janeway was immediately greeted by Neelix as soon as she stepped through the door, but she sensed an underlying note of sorrow in the short alien's joviality.
She nodded casually, remembering how Neelix and Paris had fought over Kes, Neelix's intended, who had died before Seven had joined them. Paris had eventually given up, seeing that Kes had eyes only for Neelix. The voyage had been much smoother after that, although Janeway hadn't know that Neelix actually liked Paris. They had fought all the time.
Blinking back sudden tears of her own for the exasperating man—still putting off recording Paris' death in the captain's logs—she sniffed the air cautiously. Neelix cooked all the time now and she had come to know his moods by what he cooked. Today's lunch was Bangolian stew, a sure sign that Neelix was in mourning. No one liked the stew but yet she noticed every crew member in sight eating the stew listlessly. She would have bet that no one was even tasting it.
Chakotay cleared his throat softly, reminding her of why they had come. Disengaging herself from memory lane, she began her duty.
"Neelix, I need to see your food storage. I'm going to run some tests," she stated promptly.
Neelix was his usual helpful self. "Sure, Captain. But why?"
"We have a theory about how the cueproan got into Seven's brain," Chakotay finished.
Torres just hung back behind them, watching and listening. The reasons behind Janeway's and Chakotay's crazy ideas were better left unquestioned until they chose to explain them.
But Neelix had a notion of his own, and it made him angry. "You don't think that I poisoned Seven of Nine and Tom Paris, do you?" His beady eyes grew wide. "I assure you, I had nothing to do with that!"
Janeway sought to smooth ruffled feathers. "We aren't accusing you, Neelix. From our limited research, we've found that it's a parasite that lives off of brain energy. We just want to know what it came aboard on. It lives in a hosts' food until the host itself consumes it. We want to scan the food resources to tell if any more are still uneaten."
Neelix visibly relaxed at her words. "Oh. In that case, let me turn this off and I'll take you to cargo bay four."
Soon the quartet was standing in a room with rows of all sorts and variations of food. The shelves were all stocked and the supply was plentiful.
We won't need to stop for food again for a least a couple of months, Janeway thought happily. Think of all the traveling we can do…
"Should I go or stay?" Neelix broke into her joyful train of thought. "The stew should be fine right now. This will go quicker with four."
Janeway allowed a small smile to cross her face. "Fine. You and B'Elanna start on the far left side and Chakotay and I will begin on the far right. We'll meet in the middle in…two hours. That should be all the time this will take."
She received nods of acquiesce from Chakotay and Neelix, but nothing except silence from B'Elanna.
Neelix'll draw her out. If no one else since Tom… Her mind skitted away from the thought. Neelix'll draw her out.
As if a miniature sun had settled itself over her eyes, bright light beckoned from behind her closed eyelids. She did not want to emerge, as illogical as the thought seemed. Yet a familiar voice called to her and, reluctantly, she complied.
The Doctor's face swam before her view. A headache began to throb in the back of her skull but she ignored it.
"Doctor," she said, pausing at the sound of her scratchy voice. She glanced down at the biobed's restraints around her, then looked back up at the Doctor. "I feel…lightheaded."
The Doctor scanned her and, apparently satisfied, undid her restraints. "Nice to see you, Seven. Or…is it Seven?" He raised an eyebrow.
Not knowing, or remembering, what the Doctor was talking about, Seven stared at him. "Excuse me?" She asked, her head spinning.
"Never mind," the Doctor assured her, a slightly worried frown crossing his face. "Tell me, Seven, do you recall anything of the past month?" He reached down and gently helped her sit up as she thought.
"The last memory I can recall is eating in the galley. Neelix and I talked and then I went to astromatrics. I vaguely recall…Tom Paris…Naomi Wildman…and B'Elanna Torres talking above me. Mr. Paris was injured, I could tell that from Miss Wildman's side of the discussion. Why? Is Mr. Paris hurt terribly? Why am I here?"
The Doctor hesitated. "Are you sure that is all you can remember?"
Seven's brow furrowed. A brief flash of memory that contained her facing Tom Paris in a white room. Another of her knocking over a big, black mass that towered over her and Tom. She shook her head, moaning, as her headache slammed into her in full force.
"Seven?" The Doctor's voice interposed itself over the pounding in her head urgently. "Seven, I'm going to inject you with thirty ccs of monclanthim. It should help your headache."
A hiss of air and a briefly sharp needle pricked her neck. A few moments later, the headache eased and her sight cleared. She discovered that the Doctor had sat beside her, supporting her back. She felt limp and clumsy.
Her tongue rolled around in her mouth. When it had lodged itself in its proper place again, she spoke. "I remembered a white room. Tom Paris was standing across from me. Then I saw a black mass that tried to consume Tom and myself. There are no white rooms on Voyager. Were we on a holodeck? And what happened to the mass?"
The Doctor sighed. "Tuvok and Chakotay can explain that better than I. As for Tom Paris, I'm afraid I have some bad news." He caught her eyes and held them with his own. "I'm afraid Tom Paris died this morning. His body is waiting for his ceremony in torpedo bay one. He will be given to the stars later on today."
Seven was stunned. Tom Paris dead?
I am not. I AM NOT!
"I am not!" She yelled, suddenly frantic. She grabbed the Doctor's shirtfront with both hands, searching his eyes for a sign that he was only joking. "Don't get rid of the body! I'm not dead. I'm not dead!" She started to cry, feeling the unfamiliar moisture run down her cheeks. "Please, don't get rid of my body. I could never go back…"
Her strength seemed to magically fade and she sank back down on the biobed, muttering the words 'not dead…I'm not dead' over and over until she passed out again.
The Doctor just stared.
Tuvok waited for Ensign Kim to run the last set of calculations again. If they were right, then he and the ensign had discovered the planet that the cueproan had originated from.
Harry Kim shot him a wan smile. "It's the same." His voice carried weariness and joy. "It's the same. Let's tell the Captain."
Tuvok nodded. "Agreed. She will be most anxious to hear of this." He reached for his commbadge…
When a fearful, mental cry pierced through his brain.
I'm not dead. Not dead!
A mental image of Tom Paris, in a battered uniform, running along the inside of a cage, shouting, asserted itself before his vision.
The puesdo-Paris banged on the bars of the cage in frustration. Not dead! He yelled again.
"Tuvok? Lieutenant Tuvok?"
Tuvok pressed the mental image down into the recesses of his mind to dampen the shouting. When he was able, he focused on Ensign Kim. The younger officer was gazing at him worriedly.
"I am fine," he said to assure him.
Kim looked doubtful. "Are you sure? You kind of phased out there for a minute."
"Fine," he repeated. Following through on his original motion, he touched his commbadge. "Tuvok to Captain Janeway."
The Captain was prompt in her answering. "Janeway here. Go ahead, Tuvok. Did you find something?"
He glanced at Ensign Kim, who was once again going over their calculations. "Indeed we have, Captain."
"That's fine, Tuvok," the Captain grunted, obviously splitting her attention between him and whatever it was she was currently doing. "I'll be in my ready room in about thirty minutes. Meet me there."
"Aye, Captain," Tuvok conceded. "Tuvok out."
Shaking his head briefly to clear the lingering image, he made a mental note to check with the Doctor before he joined the Captain.
"I will be there shortly," Tuvok said to Ensign Kim. "You may go ahead, if you wish."
Kim seemed confused again. "Why? Where are you going?"
He did not have to tell the ensign yet something inside him answered, "To the Doctor. I have something to discuss with him."
Without another word, he walked off.
The Doctor stood quietly, thinking. What had Seven meant by "I'm not dead"? It didn't make any sense. She had almost sounded like someone else…but that couldn't be…But what if it was? What had Tom's last words been? Something like "not dead"? What had he meant?
The door opened and, his train of thought interrupted, he turned to greet the newcomer. To his surprise, it was Tuvok. And if he was getting used to the Vulcan's slight expressions, Tuvok was troubled.
"Lieutenant Tuvok? What can I do for you?" He asked.
The Vulcan paused near Seven's once again prone form, only this time without any restraints. Tuvok raised an eyebrow in silent question.
"She was lucid for a few moments and has not displayed violence so far," the Doctor explained, omitting the part when Seven had grabbed him.
Tuvok inquired no further, instead getting to the point of his visit. "I have…experienced an abnormality. I request your expertise."
The Doctor was perplexed. A Vulcan asking a hologram for help? This was strange indeed. "Go ahead, Tuvok. I will do what I can."
"Moments ago, on board the bridge, I…heard…a voice cry out. Ensign Kim was with me, yet he heard nothing. I…saw…a cage and Tom Paris was inside it, trying to free himself," here Tuvok paused.
The Doctor was breathless, knowing that this was important. "And did he say anything?"
Tuvok glanced at Seven again, then at the vacant biobed where Tom had died. "Yes. He yelled that he was 'not dead' over and over again." Tuvok stopped again.
The Doctor felt faint. "And do you have a theory, Tuvok?" He inquired, excitement building inside of him.
Tuvok finally met his gaze. "That is correct."
Janeway frowned, reclining in her chair. "It's not like him to be late," she murmured out loud.
Chakotay still held the two bundles of a wheat-like food in his arms. "I agree. Harry, do you know what this is about?"
Kim was practically dancing in his agitation. "All I know is that he blanked out for a minute while we were finishing our double-checking and then he went to sickbay."
Janeway landed her chair seat down with a thump. "Sickbay? A Vulcan? Voluntarily?"
Kim nodded.
Just then, Tuvok entered. "My apologies for being late, Captain," he said in way of greeting.
Janeway stood, concerned. "Harry told me you went to sickbay. Is everything all right?"
Tuvok clasped his hands together in front of him, his rigid spine getting even stiffer. "I do not know yet. The Doctor and I are still collaborating our efforts. I will be able to tell you more later."
Chakotay exchanged a glance with Janeway. She sighed, knowing she could never force information out of a Vulcan.
"Fine," she agreed. "Just as long as I am the first to know of any new information, good or bad." She shifted her attention to Kim. "Harry? Will you please continue?"
Kim nodded. "Lieutenant Tuvok and I believe that we have discovered which planet the cueproan is from." He glanced at what Chakotay held. "And what we believe it came aboard on. Which I see you found."
Janeway nodded an affirmative, encouraging him on. When he's through, I'm going to talk with him about getting some sleep, she decided.
Wearily, Kim continued, "A class-M planet with unusual humidity we stopped at a month ago house a plant Neelix identified as japreth. The cueproan lives in the japreth plants. I suggest that we get rid of every japreth plant on board. Seven ate it—combined in a stew—just a few weeks ago. She only took a bite—Neelix recorded it in his logs—and hated it. He hasn't added any japreth plants to anything else since then. Not yet, anyway."
Chakotay asked, suspiciously, "This wouldn't be Neelix's personal logs, now would it?"
Kim averted his eyes and drew to attention.
Tuvok decided to intervene. "It was to my orders, Commander. I thought it best under the new knowledge of where the cueproan lived."
Janeway frowned. "I'm not pleased that you did this without my consent or Neelix's, but I understand where you're coming from. And I appreciate the information, no matter how unorthodox your method was. Anything else?"
"We're on a direct course for the planet, at top Warp speed. Ensign Peters is at the conn and is instructed to notify you if anything occurs," Kim said, relaxing slightly. "Like you instructed."
Janeway suppressed a smile and nodded gravelly. "Harry, I want you and B'Elanna on the bridge. Chakotay will join you after we dispose of the japreth plants. After Chakotay gets there, go get some sleep. That's an order. Tuvok, continue whatever it is that you are doing with the Doctor but inform me immediately of any results. And don't go into personal logs again, either of you, without my permission, understood?"
Tuvok and Kim nodded slightly.
Chakotay eyed her. "And where will you be?"
Janeway sighed. "Visiting a friend."