"Captain, I'm afraid Mr. Paris is worse," the Doctor began fretfully. "The cueproan has evidently decided to kill him."
"It has," Janeway confirmed. Tom had visited her in her dreams last night, telling her of it. As soon as she, Seven, and Tom had rematerialized onboard Voyager yesternight, Tom had lapsed into unconsciousness. "Has he been aware any since we arrived?"
Sadly, the Doctor shook his head. "The only thing I can do is what I already have done. And it no longer makes much of a difference."
Janeway gazed at Tom's body, breathing shallowly, lost in thoughts.
The door behind her opened and B'Elanna ran in. Janeway saw grease on her hands and briefly remembered B'Elanna had been in the holodecks again.
"B'Elanna! No!" The Doctor intercepted the bee-lining Torres and kept her from Tom right before she would have crashed into the force field that was up again.
B'Elanna struggled. "You can't keep me from him!"
"B'Elanna! Listen to me!" The Doctor pleaded. "Mr. Paris is in a coma. The only thing keeping him stable is the high amount of oxygen contained in there. If you go in there, you'll die."
B'Elanna clenched her fists as tears welled, unshed, in her eyes. She paced away from the Doctor, growling under her breath. "Why?" She said at last. "Why now?"
Janeway folded her arms across her chest. "The cueproan wants to kill him."
Just then, Tom twitched and moaned.
"And he's not entirely in a coma," she added.
"I want to do something," B'Elanna, frustrated, echoed Janeway's current thoughts. Janeway felt pity for her. The amount of suffering and hopelessness contained in B'Elanna's voice spoke volumes of the love she felt and tired to hide for Tom.
Janeway rested a hand on Torres' shoulder. "So do we all. Right now, we just need…"
Suddenly, Voyager rocked and an explosion sounded. Janeway felt herself stumbling but the Doctor caught her. She reached for her commbadge but Chakotay's voice beat her hand to it.
"Captain to the bridge!"
"Damage report," she snapped out, striding to the door. B'Elanna followed.
"Decks five and fourteen have minimal damage and there's a hull breach in Deck Eleven," Harry's occupied voice shot out.
Chakotay said, "Brace for impact!", as Janeway and B'Elanna entered the turbolift.
"Bridge," Janeway told the computer, holding onto the walls. Another explosion sounded, but farther away.
"That one grazed shuttlebay," Harry reported.
Abruptly, the turbolift stopped and the doors opened onto a mass of activity on the bridge.
Janeway covered the distance to her command chair in a matter of seconds. "Status," she barked, sitting down, facing the viewscreen.
Chakotay, seated in the pilot's chair at the conn, raised an eyebrow as Tuvok replied, "We're being attacked. The Borg have found us."
"On screen," Janeway demanded, a sinking feeling in her stomach starting.
The curtain of white before her became the image of the Borg Cube. And they were getting ready to fire again.
"All hands to battle stations," she called into the ship's comm. Turning her head slightly, she told Tuvok, "Hit 'em with everything we've got."
Seven of Nine stood at her station on the bridge obeying the Captain's commands. She felt fear and did not like the feeling.
Seven…
For a moment she thought the Borg had beckoned to her, then she realized that it was only one voice, not billions.
Seven, I can save Voyager. I know how to pass on the cueproan but I'll need your help.
Knowing who it was, she tried an experiment to talk back in her mind by thinking. You are weak and under consciousness. What can you do?
Lieutenant Paris sounded delighted that she conversed with him but also resolved. I have been on a deeper level with the cueproan. I know how it works now. I know how to free myself but… He stopped.
Seven readjusted something on her panel, not really paying attention to what she was doing. But what, Lieutenant?
The ensign sighed. If we don't complete the plan right away, I'll be dead before I can try again.
Seven straightened and her fingers dropped from the console. It will kill you.
Yes, was the answer.
She thought a moment. Evidently, the lieutenant believed she had forgotten him because he inquired. Seven? Don't leave me.
I am thinking. Do not be impatient, she told him. She paused a moment more, bracing herself as Voyager rocked again. I cannot desert the Captain at the moment. There is too much to do.
Seven! Please! I need your help!
A light touch on her arm startled her. She glanced up to see Lieutenant Tuvok at her side. Quietly, he said, "Inform Mr. Paris that you will be there shortly. I will locate a suitable relief place to land Voyager." Then the Vulcan returned to his post.
Lieutenant Paris, I will be there shortly.
Thank you, Seven. Please hurry.
I will do my best, Lieutenant. She focused on her console again as Tuvok said, "I have located a nebula only five parsecs from here, Captain."
Janeway, hair half-covering her face, nodded and called to Chakotay, "Go for it, Commander. It'll give us a chance to get lost and safe for repairs. At least for a couple of hours."
Chakotay immediately turned Voyager around. "Acknowledged, Captain."
The nebula shone with swirled pinks and blues. It grew larger as Voyager approached. Seven decided that it would be the best suitable place for the amount of time they needed. "Captain, the nebula houses a packet of dense molecules. While it might be slightly unstable, the Borg Cube can not follow there."
Janeway narrowed her eyes. "Is that they only choice we have?"
Tuvok answered. "It appears so. I concur with Seven: it is the safest place."
Their captain gave a brief nod. "Carefully, Chakotay. We do have a hull breach to think of."
"B'Elanna's down there, supervising the repairs," Ensign Kim informed them. Only then did Seven notice that Lieutenant Torres was missing.
Seven…
"Captain," Seven said abruptly. "There is a matter that I need to take care of in sickbay."
Janeway stood and walked carefully up to the upper level where Seven was stationed. Seven noticed a cut on the captain's forehead that her hair had hid earlier. "I believe I'll join you." She glanced back at Chakotay. "Unless I'm still needed here?"
Chakotay released the controls. "No, Captain. We are snug in the nebula and the Borg Cube is on the outside."
Seven came to a quick conclusion. Should I invite the rest?
Lieutenant Paris sighed. Why not? They're going to want to have their say anyway. Let's get it all over with at once.
Out loud, Seven said, "The matter requires all of our attention. Please come to sickbay."
Chakotay frowned. "Seven?"
Firmly, Seven added, "More information will be given there."
"Very well then," Janeway answered smoothly, her tone curious. "Harry, Tuvok, Chakotay; care to join us?"
The captain of the starship, Voyager, watched in unchecked awe as Seven lowered the oxygen level, lifted the force field, and merely touched Tom's hand, although briefly, to rouse him from his near coma.
The Doctor scanned Tom. "Mr. Paris, I believe I finally have a time limit on your lifespan with the cueproan thought through," he said sadly. "I'm afraid it's only a matter of hours, if that."
B'Elanna clenched her fists. She had met them outside the sickbay's door, saying that she had heard Tom calling to her.
Tom nodded, sitting up cautiously. "I know. That's why I wanted to talk to you all."
Janeway believed that his voice sounded stronger than it had been and more determined. He has a plan. "Go ahead, Tom. Tell us."
Tom cleared his throat self-consciously. "This last time…with the cueproan, I mean, I understood. I know what to do. I have to search out a host and touch them, willing the cueproan to leave so I must be conscious…meaning, if the Doc is correct, I have to do this now."
B'Elanna narrowed her eyes. "Do what now?"
Tom took a deep breath, whether to give him courage or to refill his lungs, Janeway wasn't sure. "I need to go to the Borg Cube."
"What?!" B'Elanna screeched.
Chakotay merely nodded. "I see where you're going with this," he said simply.
Harry just blanched.
Tuvok gave a little frown that spoke volumes. "This is not logical, even for you, Mr. Paris. Explain your reasoning."
Tom sagged a little on the bed. "With all those Borg, if I can find one—just one—mind that the cueproan agrees to, touch it, then that solves two problems: my death and the Borg."
Silent, Janeway now sat beside him, careful not to touch him in fear that the cueproan would want her mind. "Tom," she said gently and softly, almost motherly. "I've heard this from you before. You know I can't let you do that unless I believe it absolutely necessary. You only have a few hours left. Don't you want to spend it with the people that love and admire you?"
Tom fixed his sightless blue eyes to her. "Captain, if you had a choice to die, which would you do? Go out surrounded by people you love and admire, knowing the Borg will continue to hunt them down to give them a fate worse than death after you're gone? Or go out fighting to save those you love, even though it's in theory and might not work? Which would you do, Captain?" He asked softly.
Janeway honestly thought about it, as a human being, and not as a captain. If given the choice, for human and captain, it would be—and had been, in her past—go out fighting to save those she loved, even if in theory.
"All right, Tom," she agreed finally. "But I want you to walk around the ship first. B'Elanna will accompany you, if you wish. Someone will go with you. Then come to the bridge. We'll go from there."
Tom nodded. "Agreed, Captain."
Janeway hopped down from the biobed. "Everyone except B'Elanna leave. We'll pay our respects and farewell wishes later on the bridge."
B'Elanna felt helpless, not a feeling she had had since her childhood. The Doctor had said Tom was dying. The man she had grown to love only had a few hours left to live, and only some of those were to be spent with her.
He was going to do what he had always wanted to do: save the world. Since the world that he lived on was currently Voyager: he was going to save it.
She cupped his face in her hands, daring the cueproan to invade her mind. "Captain Proton," she whispered tenderly. "Must you go?"
A slow smile caressed his expression. "Dearest lady of my heart, I fear 'tis necessary to save you." Changing his voice, he said seriously, "I have to try. Have Harry watch you when I'm…"
"Don't say it. I don't want you to talk like that; not yet," B'Elanna pleaded. "Let's go visit Neelix in the galley. Do you want some tomato soup?"
Tom grinned. "Yeah, that would be nice."
Chakotay couldn't find Kathryn. She had left sickbay before them all and she wasn't on the bridge, which was surprising.
Suddenly, it dawned on him where she was.
He strode to her ready room quietly, not wanting the others to follow. He entered and saw Kathryn sitting on the cushions, staring out at the nebula.
"Kathryn?" He called softly, coming up behind her, sensing she was deep in thought.
Her eyes were focused beyond the nebula, her chin propped in her hands. Without moving she replied, "What do you suppose he's thinking? That he has to do it? Why not, he's going to die anyway? Does he feel loyalty to the crew? Or is it a typical macho gesture? Is he trying to prove something to his father and the rest of Starfleet, even in his dying? What's going through his mind?"
Chakotay sat beside her but did not look directly at her. Instead, he gazed at the dance swirling in the nebula. After a while, he answered. "I believe what's happening to Tom has changed him from completely reckless to more slightly controlled. He's had much time to ponder on his behavior in the past and he might want to change it. Maybe you're right and he's doing it as a last chance to prove to his father, the Marquis, you and the universe that he can do something right, instead of something wrong."
Kathryn sat back on the seats and looked at him. She smiled wryly. "When I first met him at the penal colony, I couldn't help myself from detesting him. He was a picture of everything that could go wrong with a Starfleet officer. But now…I see what a fine officer he truly is when he gives himself the chance. Yes, he's unorthodox—so am I—but that just adds to his flare for life. I don't know how we're going to function without him."
Chakotay returned the smile. "When I came aboard and saw him six years ago, I believed him a traitor. He sought to assure me he wasn't. He succeeded mostly when he saved my life twice. His cocky attitude and jokes grated on my nerves, until I realized he was lonely. The accident he had caused to kill his friends had left a black mark on his soul that he continuously punished himself for but also tried to cover up with sneering in the face of authority. Since he has come to grips with the accident, he's still cocky but not in an annoying way. I guess he just grows on you."
"Just ask B'Elanna," Kathryn joked.
Chakotay smiled. "Let's make sure he knows he's not alone and we back him in this."
Kathryn gave him a sideways glance. "And we expect him to return."
Chakotay raised an eyebrow in question.
"By sending another crewmember with him," she proceeded to explain. "We'll be unconsciously telling him we expect both the crewmember and him back to Voyager."
"And I'm guessing you already have this 'crewmember' in mind?" He asked.
Kathryn grinned, looking twenty years younger. "I do indeed."
"This is great, Neelix. You made it," Tom said. The tomato soup had tasted just like his mother had used to make—thick and tomatoey, with a hint of cloves.
Neelix's tone was pleased. "I did. Spent all week finding the correct ingredients and replicating what I couldn't find."
Tom let himself smile and divulged a secret. "Tastes like my mother's."
Neelix fairly bubbled with pleasure. "Thank you, Tom. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Seven tells me you make a mean chocolate cake…" He suggested.
"Right away," Neelix said as his footsteps dwindled in the direction of the replicator.
"Tom," B'Elanna began softly, grabbing his hand. He knew it was her hand because it was hard with just the right texture of softness. "I thought you didn't much care for chocolate."
He shrugged. "I don't. But why not? I'll indulge myself. Maybe it'll taste sweeter."
B'Elanna was quiet, which he didn't want. When there was no familiar sound of voices, the cueproan howled for his attention.
"Talk to me," he begged abruptly. "Anything. Let me hear you speak, B'Elanna."
She sounded unsure at first, then grew bolder. "I'm proud of you, Tom. Sometimes I know it doesn't seem like I am, but I am. What we have is a gem, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe. I'll…I'll miss you, Thomas Eugene Paris. Come back to us…to me."
A dull thump sounded from in front of him. "Here you go: chocolate cake," Neelix presented.
Subdued, Tom let B'Elanna guide his hand to the fork and then to the plate.
Naomi Wildman was hungry. Uncle Neelix would fix her some food before they went to the holodeck to finalize the Flutter chapter Dark Moon.
When she walked into the galley, she was surprised to see Mr. Tom sitting and talking with Ms. B'Elanna and Uncle Neelix. She had heard that Mr. Tom was so sick he had almost died. Did this mean he was okay again?
"Ah, Naomi," Uncle Neelix beckoned her over. "We were just talking about you."
"What a beautiful little girl you've become," Tom added, although his eyes did not look at her.
She moved closer to Uncle Neelix, afraid. What was wrong with Mr. Tom's eyes?
B'Elanna, when she saw the way Naomi was staring at Tom, tapped her shoulder gently.
"His sickness made him blind," B'Elanna whispered.
Tom smiled. "I heard that."
B'Elanna straightened. "Never tell secrets in front of Tom anymore. He can hear a phaser drop a parsec away."
Neelix laughed so Naomi smiled.
"Naomi," Tom hesitated. "Can you come here?"
Naomi walked over to Mr. Tom, shocked to see tears in his eyes. He rested a hand briefly on her head.
"Be good, Naomi," Tom whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Don't let Seven boss you around too much."
"I won't," Naomi promised, sensing it was important to Mr. Tom.
"Tom," B'Elanna said reluctantly. "It's time to go to the bridge. Is there anywhere else you wanted to go? Your quarters? Shuttlebay?"
Tom shook his head as he stood shakily. "No. The bridge is the place I want to go. The Delta Flyer is best left alone. B'Elanna, take care of her while I'm gone?"
"She won't get a scratch, Tom," B'Elanna assured him as they walked slowly out of the galley.
As soon as the door closed, Naomi rounded on her godfather. "He's dying, isn't he?"
Neelix frowned, then sighed. "Yes, Naomi, he is. But he's going to save us from the Borg Cube out there."
"How?" Naomi asked.
"Well, it goes something like this…"
Seven of Nine gathered in the bridge with the rest of the crew, they dressed—with the exception of Lieutenant Torres and Lieutenant Paris—in full dress uniform. An air of expectation awaited as Lieutenant Paris slowly walked around the bridge. He walked alone, trailing his fingers on panels and walls. Once he made his way to the pilot's console, he collapsed in the chair, sweating profusely.
Commander Chakotay knelt by his side and inquired as to the lieutenant's health.
"I'm fine," Tom wheezed. "Just a little…overwhelmed." He waved a hand and repeated, "I'm fine."
Satisfied, Chakotay joined Captain Janeway in front of her command chair, waiting the lieutenant out.
Paris just sat there for a while, gently running his fingers over the controls, facing the viewscreen yet not able to see anything there. Finally, he straightened and stood.
"Tom," Janeway called out. Seven recognized her tactic to help Tom orient on the sound of her voice to face her direction. "We all have something to say to you. Harry, you may go first."
Ensign Kim tentatively adjusted his long dress uniform jacket. "Tom," he began, self-consciously. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you accepting me. You made me feel at home here. Thanks."
Lieutenant Paris had a twinkle in his eye that signified trouble for someone, most likely himself. "Harry, watch B'Elanna for me. She can't take care of herself so you'll have to keep her from driving mindless pain into her life."
Seven gauged Lieutenant Torres' reaction as not boding well for Lieutenant Paris if they were ever left alone again before he departed.
The captain gestured for Lieutenant Torres to go next. What the lieutenant said in Paris' ear was not audible, even for Seven's acute hearing, but Ensign Kim snickered as Paris flushed red. Smiling to herself, B'Elanna stepped away.
Lieutenant Tuvok approached the lieutenant. He splayed his fingers, even though Paris could not see. "Live long," Tuvok intoned. "And prosper."
Paris visibly restrained himself from doing something jovial and bowed his head gravely. "Thank you, Tuvok." Then, to everyone's complete surprise, Paris positioned his fingers in an identical salute. "Live long, and prosper."
As Tuvok turned away, Seven noticed a slight wetness in the Vulcan's eyes, but she might have imagined it in the lighting.
The captain gestured to Seven.
Seven clasped her hands behind her back. "I confess I am at a loss of what to say. You know me more completely than I do myself. I wish you success in your mission. I only wish that I could accompany you to guide you. Be careful." So said, she stepped away beside Lieutenant Tuvok.
"Commander?" Captain Janeway inquired.
Commander Chakotay did not move from his place. "Tom, you are a worthy Marquis. I only wish I knew why you did what you did while you were with us. As it is, I give you my best wishes of luck. Knowing you, you'll need it. Captain?"
Captain Janeway braced her feet. "Tom, I expect you back. This little exercise was just to let you know that we're all behind you. And you're not going alone. You'll need a guide who knows the Borg and can be your eyes and ears for you." She paused. "Seven of Nine will accompany you. You have two hours, at the very most, to live. Thirty minutes before that time is through, you two will be beamed aboard Voyager, mission completed or not. If Seven believes either one of you to be in danger, she is to immediately request an emergency transport. Understood?"
"Aye, Captain," Seven and Tom chorused.
"Good. The Doctor wants both of you in sickbay, then I'll be personally seeing you two off in Transporter Room One. You have thirty minutes. Go."