A Prayer

By: Lannawannabe

Disclaimer: howdy there! I got the idea for this story from a song. I don't own the song. I can't remember who does, but I do know it's not me. I'm not even sure what its name is. I also don't own Voyager. I wish I did, but I do not. I own diddly. I own squat. Diddly-squat. Please refrain from suing me.

Note: This takes place sometime after Tom and B'Elanna are married but before Miral. It's AU, though. One looooooooooooooooong chapter. Enjoy!

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Captain's Log, Supplemental. Stardate 54239.5: We've recently stopped for supplies at an inhabited planet called Thentria. The inhabitants are very friendly, though we've been informed they are having problems with rebel group that calls itself, in Thentrian, 'Vatic Tantri' or, in English, 'One People.' Thankfully, we haven't had a single problem.

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Winter on Thentria was not a laughing matter. It was freezing. And B'Elanna was not shy about complaining. Her complaints didn't really matter, because until they finished trade negotiations, they were stuck on this planet. But Tom listened patiently, telling her he'd warm her up when they returned to Voyager. That shut her up for a little while.

They were walking down the main street of the capitol, Renstan, on their way to the next installment of trading. Suddenly, a young Thentrian, who appeared to be in a hurry bumped into B'Elanna. Neither her nor Tom noticed him slip something into her coat pocket. Tom stopped him from falling over and the stranger looked at B'Elanna. She smiled at him, in spite of her unhappy mood, and he rushed away.

A moment later, a group of police rushed by. B'Elanna and Tom shrugged at each other and continued on their way.

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"We can't give you that much deuterium. We just can't spare it. But we can give you artificial gravity plating," Captain Janeway calmly explained.

"Bah! What use of that have we? We need deuterium!" The Thentrian Ambassador shot at her.

"We-"

"Um, Captain, I have an idea," piped up B'Elanna. She whispered her plan to Janeway, who smiled.

"Would you settle for-"

The door burst open. Twenty heavily armed policemen stormed in. The Captain threw her arms up, as did Tom and B'Elanna. The Ambassador looked around, shocked.

"You there, your under arrest." The policeman who appeared to be in charge pointed at Tom and B'Elanna.

"What?" all the Voyager crewmembers shouted.

Two came up and cuffed the lieutenants. "You've been caught assisting rebels."

"What?" The shout came again.

"Pat her down."

"Don't you dare touch me or-"

At the same time: "Leave her alone!"

"Lieutenants! Let him," Janeway said.

A policeman pulled something out of B'Elanna's pocket. "Here it is, Chief. The rebel plans, on a disk."

The Captain looked at B'Elanna in disbelief. Their eyes met. "Captain, We never. . . I swear. . ."

Janeway just looked at her.

"You have to believe me! Please, I didn't. . ."

"We never did anything. . ." Tom added.

The two were dragged away, and all Captain Janeway could do was watch.

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Tom couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe it the first time, or when he and Harry were sent to the prison with the clamps, and he couldn't believe it now.

There had to be some kind of mistake. He glanced over at B'Elanna as they were dragged through the halls of a prison that was. . . Well, the only word he could think of was concrete. The walls, the floors, the ceilings, were all concrete. The only thing different was the metal bars and metal light fixtures. There was a single, small, barred window in each cell. And it was cold. As cold as outside. It felt even colder, with the absence of their coats, which had been left behind.

She was scared. He could tell. The police couldn't, but he knew her better than that. They were married, after all. And, Hell, he was scared too.

And then he heard it.

A scream.

A long, piercing, heart-wrenching, terrified, painful scream.

Suddenly he was colder than he'd been his whole life.

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"What's going to happen to us?" B'Elanna asked.

"No talking," grunted a guard. They had been locked in a cell that was no so small B'Elanna thought that if Tom lay down, he'd be almost touching each wall.

There was a hard metal table that was supposed to serve as a bed and one thin blanket. It was freezing. B'Elanna shivered involuntarily. Tom moved closer to her, and slipped his arms around her.

"Here, this might generate some heat." They moved closer together. Then they sat on the bunk and wrapped the blanket around their shoulders as they huddled together.

And they heard another painful scream; just like the ones they'd been hearing for several seconds every few minutes since they had arrived.

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"You. Female." A guard pointed to her and opened the cell door.

She stood up and walked to the door. He grabbed her roughly by the arm. She tried to shake him off, but he was too strong, even for her superior Klingon muscles.

He pulled her away, and she struggled the whole time, screaming and cursing like a demon.

Tom slammed his body against the bars of the door. "Wait!" he called. "Where are you taking her?! What are you going to do?! Please, bring her back! I'll do anything! Take me instead!"

He was met with silence.

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Tom heard no screams. Not that day. Not that time. The silence scared him. He knew, if she was screaming, at least she was alive.

But there was nothing. They could have killed her. That thought scared the shit out of him. He needed her. He couldn't do this without her.

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It was cold. That was the only thing B'Elanna could think. Colder than outside, colder than anything else she'd ever experienced.

Freezing. Ice cold. Freezing.

"Female! One more time! Where are the rebel leaders?"

"Don't. . . know. . ."

"You lie."

"No."

"Where, damnit!"

"Told. . . you. . ."

"That's enough for now. It's been three hours. She won't tell us."

They pulled her out of the freezing room and dragged her back to the cell, unceremoniously throwing her back in. Only her strangled cry signified that she was still alive. Tom dropped to his knees beside her and threw the blanket over her. He picked her up and set her on the bunk.

Then it was his turn. As they dragged him down the hall, he yelled and spit and cursed and threatened, to no avail.

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Captain Janeway didn't know what to think. She couldn't believe that Tom and B'Elanna would do something so wrong. But a skeptic part of her said, 'It's possible. They're both former rebels.'

Chakotay and Harry, however, knew exactly what to think. "They didn't do it, Captain."

"We don't know that, Harry."

"We know it, Kathryn."

"How?"

"It's very out of character."

"For rebels?"

"You know that's not the way it is. Tom and B'Elanna gave up that life when we got landed here. They would never do anything like that. They would never do anything to disappoint you like that."

"I don't want to believe it," she whispered.

"Then don't."

She looked at their faces. They were right. How could have she have doubted two of her most faithful crewman?

"You're right. Now the question is; how do we get them back?"

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Tom couldn't even sweat anymore. It was so hot. Hotter than the Vulcan equator. Hotter than the Ocampan surface. Hotter than the planet where they'd met Noss. It felt like he was in a furnace.

Burning. Burning. Burning.

"Tell us!"

"No clue," he rasped. He had quickly lost all the saliva in his throat and mouth after being placed in this hell.

"Lair. Where?"

"Don't know."

"Where, you dumb shit?!"

Tom merely swallowed, and passed out.

"The female was stronger."

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When they threw Tom back in the cell, B'Elanna was still shivering. The cold concrete floor woke him. "B'Elanna." When he got no answer, he attempted to pull himself to his feet.

And failed. He tried to crawl over to her. This time, he managed. He pulled himself onto the bunk next to her, the cold already setting in. He wrapped himself around her, hoping to keep her alive with his warmth, and passed into merciful sleep.

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Day two in the Freezing Hell.

Tom was woken early, and dragged into a stone chamber, where he was chained stomach to he wall after having his shirt pulled off. It was cold. Very cold.

Then he saw it.

And almost screamed.

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"Chancellor!"

"Captain, aiding rebels is a crime punishable by death! You are lucky they are still alive."

"We want them back. They are innocent!"

"Prove it."

"Prove their guilt," the strong-willed Captain shot back.

"On Thentria, one is guilty until proven innocent."

"That's completely unfair!"

"On the contrary. We would not have arrested them if they had not done something to arouse suspicion."

Captain Janeway was beginning to sympathize with the rebels. "They are not even your citizens!"

"No, they are not. But hey have committed a crime, and they must be punished according to our law."

"And what, exactly, is that punishment?"

"Life in prison."

"Unacceptable. They are my crewmen. I will try them according to Federation Law, as they deserve."

"No. They will stay here. You will leave. Immediately. And never return."

"Over our dead bodies." The threat in her voice was obvious.

"We do not want a fight."

"Then release them!"

"No." The transmission ended.

"Shit."

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It was a black whip. The end had nasty black spikes. It was frightening just to look at. More frightening, because he knew what they were going to do.

A Thentrian in a red suit, used to disguise blood, stepped forward and took the whip. He grinned wickedly, and unwrapped it. Tom tensed his back.

When the strike came, the pain was worse than anything he'd ever experienced. It bit and cut and a cry was ripped from his throat. The cold air stung against the fresh cut, and he felt blood trickle down his back. Then it came again. And again. And again. . .

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B'Elanna woke to a terrifying sound. Tom's screams, and the sound of a whip.

In spite of the cold, she pulled herself up from the bunk and threw her weight against the bars.

"NO! NO, LET HIM GO! PLEASE, GOD! LET HIM GO, LET IT STOP! NO! TOM! TOM!"

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Somehow, Tom thought he heard her, and that made it sting all the more.

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"What are your plans?!" snapped the interrogator.

Tom could only pant and try to recuperate in the few seconds he had. The silence enraged the interrogator, who snapped the whip against him again. Tom cried out. "Tell me."

"Know. . . nothing. . ."

And the dreadful snap came again.

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Three and a half hours later, Tom was thrown into the cell and laid face first down on the cold floor. This shirt was thrown in after him.

B'Elanna fell to his side, horrified at what they had done to his back. His beautiful back.

There was barely and inch of unmarred skin. She couldn't believe how much blood there was. Tenderly, she touched a finger to one of the cuts and he moaned.

"Tom," she said.

"B'Elanna," he whispered back, his voice horse from the cries of pain he'd emitted.

"You have to get up."

He groaned.

"I'll help you. Here, put your arm around my shoulder." He did, and she pulled him to his feet and laid him on his stomach on the bunk. He gasped at the cold. "Lift your torso up, baby. I'll put the blanket under you." He did, and she slid the blanket under him. It only warmed the bunk a little.

She picked up his black and red uniform jacket. "Honey, I'm gonna try and wipe some of the blood away. It's gonna sting." He made a small sound. She gently pat his back with the shirt, heard a sharp intake of blood and winced. But the job had to be done. She pat again and again, wiping away most of his blood.

Then she put his gray turtleneck back on, and laying the black jacket on the floor, so the blood would freeze, and he could wear it again tomorrow. Then she sat down next to him, shivering, and waited.

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A few hours later, they returned. She was standing near the bars, facing them. Before they could even unlock the door, she gathered all the saliva she could manage, and spit into one of their faces.

The guard merely wiped it from his face, and pulled her out of the cell.

Tom heard the door open, and turned to look. When he saw them dragging her away, he pulled himself up, and stumbled to the gate.

"No," he rasped. "NO," a little louder. "NO! Let her go, damnit! Take me instead. Please, don't. DON'T!" Their eyes met, and for a minute the world seemed to go in slow motion.

He saw the fear there. The pain. The worry.

But mostly, he saw defiance.

Then she was gone.

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She didn't know what they would do, but she figured it didn't really matter. They were going to hurt her. Did it really make a difference how?

They sat her down in a chair, strapping her to it with leather buckles. Then they picked up a small device and strapped hit around her waist. Another went around her chest, and a final one around her legs. Two smaller devices were placed around her arms.

The interrogator smiled a nasty smile at her, and she spit at him. The smile disappeared, and he pulled what looked like a small remote out of his pocket.

He tapped a button, and pain shot through her right arm. Electric pain. She gasped with the agony. He pressed another button, and pain exploded through her legs, and everything in between.

When he pressed the last button, her whole chest went wild with a fire.

She screamed.

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Tom heard.

He screamed too.

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The Captain felt like screaming. She was so sick of these Thentrians.

"Chancellor, I demand you release them."

"We will not."

"They should be tried according to Federation Law."

"No. The committed a crime HERE, not in your Federation."

"You can't even prove they did anything! All you have is a disk and a video of a bump on the street."

"That is enough to us, and you have nothing to condradict the proof. "

"Not to us, they do not deserve life in prison for innocence. And we cannot prove you wrong because you will not allow us on the planet to conduct our own investigation!"

"You would try to break them out of prison."

"We don't even know where they are."

"Irrelevant."

The transmission ended.

"Shit."

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B'Elanna fell into the cell, every molecule in her body in pain. Tom looked at her.

Second and third degree burns. Electrical burns. There was nothing he could do.

He started to tear up. What had they done to her?

He pulled her to her feet, and helped her to the bunk. They curled up in the same position as last night, and slipped away from the pain.

For now, at least.

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She ran her soft hands over his body, and he responded eagerly. Pulling her closer, he kissed her soft lips until he was dizzy, then kissed her some more. Her warm skin was like silk under his fingertips.

And then Tom woke up. To a cold cell, and a broken B'Elanna.

Day three in the Freezing Hell.

He heard them coming. He pulled himself upright, grabbed his jacket and slid it on, and to the door, ignoring the searing, throbbing pain in his back.

He would face them like a man.

The opened the cell, and dropped in a small bowl of water. Then they grabbed him. The dragged him down the hall, leaving the slumbering B'Elanna to wake up to a nightmare.

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When they reached the torture room, Tom noticed it was the same one as yesterday. He also saw the interrogator. He held the whip.

Tom didn't let them humiliate him anymore.

He took off his own shirt and stood next to the wall.

The interrogator laughed. "That will not help you, rodent."

Tom spat at him.

And the nightmare began.

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When it was over, Tom mustered what was left of his strength, and walked himself back to the cell. The guards didn't have to carry him. When he reached the cell, his legs buckled, and he collapsed facedown on the floor.

Again, B'Elanna pulled him onto the bunk and wiped away the blood. Then she waited.

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When he heard them coming, Tom struggled to his feet. B'Elanna stood next to him. When they reached the door, Tom pushed B'Elanna behind him.

"Female," growled a guard.

"No," said Tom as loudly as he could, but still barely audible. "Me instead."

"Tom!" B'Elanna said in shock. "You won't make it."

"Will. Me instead."

"No." She said. "I'll go."

Tom pushed her back again. "No," he said, more forcefully this time. "Me."

The guards looked at each other, and grabbed Tom, pulling him down the hall and leaving B'Elanna to scream after them.

"NO! TOM! NO!"

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They took Tom to the Electric Chamber, and sat him down in the chair. The interrogator entered the room, and looked surprised when he saw Tom.

"I did not expect to see you so soon, Rodent." He said as the guards attached the devices to Tom's body. He laughed. Tom winced at the sound, but said nothing. "Ah, well, I suppose it makes no difference. But tell me, why are you here instead of the Female?"

"I love her."

The guard laughed again. "Does she love you?"

Tom wasn't sure it was the smartest thing, but he told the truth. "Yes."

"Then I will make yours screams extra loud."

And he did.

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Three days. That was how long it had been. Three days of constant worrying, fear, anger, and arguments.

Three days and she'd gotten nowhere with the Thentrian officials.

And she was done with them.

"That's it! Harry, start scanning the planet. Find them. I don't care what it takes; I don't care who you need to help you. Just find them."

'Finally!' thought Harry. "Yes, M'am!"

"Chakotay and Tuvok, start coming up with a basic rescue plan. Have it on my desk at 1800."

Tuvok and Chakotay nodded.

"Carey, get the warp core ready to go. I need a quick get-a-way. And make sure we won't have a single transporter problem."

"Aye, Captain."

"Dismissed."

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When Tom was returned to the cell that night, he was very close to dead. He was so weak that B'Elanna could not get him to his feet to move him to the bunk.

She cried as she draped her body over his, trying to keep him alive through the night with her body heat.

She hoped morning would come soon, the light driving away demons that manifested themselves in her heart.

She dreaded the morning; too, fearing it would bring with it the death of her husband.

Guilt, pain, worry. All were her companion through the night, as she prayed with all her soul that he would survive.

But that was all she had.

A prayer.

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The morning came. In the faint light that filtered through the bars of the window, B'Elanna saw Tom's chest rise and fall, telling her that he had lived, for one more breath, at least.

Day four in the Freezing Hell.

Then she heard the sound of boots coming down the hall. It was the guards. She looked at Tom. He was still unconscious. She stepped forward, and did not fight and they pulled her out of the cell and down the corridor.

They took her to a new chamber. They removed her all her clothes except her underwear and strapped her to a cold metal bed, not unlike the bunk in her cell. She trembled with fear.

The Interrogator entered the room, carrying a small bundle. He smiled at her wickedly, and laid it out on a small metal table next to the bed.

Spreading the bundle open, he picked up one of the objects, light glinting off it.

B'Elanna couldn't even scream.

It was a knife. A long, silver, curved, horrible knife.

At that moment, B'Elanna knew she was going to die.

She took a deep breath, calling on her Klingon strength, and any honor she hoped the Gods would grant her.

She whispered an apology to Tom.

Then she welcomed death, with open arms.

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This time, Tom woke up in the nightmare.

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B'Elanna screamed, worse than ever before.

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And there was nothing he could do.

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"I've found them, Captain," Harry announced. He was in Astrometrics, speaking to the Bridge, where the Captain sat, reviewing the rescue plan.

"Well done, Harry. Where are they?"

"A small, isolated compound not far from the capitol."

"Can we beam them out?"

"No, M'am. There's a dampening field around the area."

"How many Thentrians?"

Harry checked. "150, Captain. But I'm also detecting 30 others of different species, and some of the Thentrians appear to be in rough shape. Tom isn't exactly in top form, either. Wait, Captain. . ."

"Harry?"

"B'Elanna's life signs are fading fast. I'm not a Doctor, but she won't live much longer. I'd say we have an hour tops."

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The feel of steel cutting slowly into her flesh. Ripping her body to shreds, cutting her arms, her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her legs.

B'Elanna screamed, feeling her life-force ooze out of her.

The scream ended, and B'Elanna's eyes fell shut as breath left her lungs one last time. 'This isn't how it was supposed to be. . .'

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"Tuvok, you and your team will enter here," Janeway pointed to an area near the gate of the compound. "Cut through the gate, and find Tom and B'Elanna. Use any force necessary. Free any aliens in captivity. You'll exit back through the same way you entered, and we'll beam you out. Understood?"

Tuvok nodded.

"Good. Get going."

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B'Elanna had stopped screaming. Tom prayed she wasn't dead. He prayed that any moment now, the guards would bring her back.

But his prayers went unanswered.

Then he thought he heard something. It sounded like phaser fire. 'Wow,' he thought, 'I must be going nuts.'

No, there it was again. It was a phaser. And that sounded like Tuvok. . .

Sure enough, he saw the tall, dark Security Chief, along with a Security Detail, running down the corridor, toward his cell. He struggled to his feet.

"Lieutenant," said Tuvok.

"Tuvok," he managed.

Tuvok looked him up and down, and then turned to Ayala, who was standing next to him. "Take him to the transporter site."

"No," said Tom. "I have to find her."

Tuvok nodded. Phasering open Tom's cell, he opened the door, and Tom stumbled out.

"This way," Tom instructed, and they ran down the hall toward where Tom had heard B'Elanna's death cry come from.

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When they finally found the torture chamber, Tom was nearly sick.

B'Elanna lay on a metal table. Blood covered it in puddles, and dripped onto the floor. Her body, once tan and beautiful, was white and pasty, and covered in blood. Her white underwear, gifts from Tom, were now red.

Slowly, Tom walked over to her. He knew she was dead, he could feel a part of himself missing, but he couldn't quite believe it.

Tears slipping down his cheeks, he gathered her small form into his arms, where she hung limply. Her arm fell from where it lay on her chest, and blood ran down it, dripping from her still fingers.

B'Elanna's life-blood covered Tom almost instantly. The Security Detail, usually calm and collected, shed tears at the horrible, beautiful site before them. The site of a broken man carrying the body of a broken woman was forever lodged in their memory.

Later in their lives, if they ever felt sorry for themselves, they remembered the site of Tom Paris carrying his mutilated, maimed, dead wife through a cold, unsympathetic world, and said a soft prayer.

Tom looked to her beautiful face, and then to Tuvok.

Tuvok was Vulcan. He had the ability to conceal his emotions. In so doing, he knew a great deal about them, and saw many things in the eyes of the young man in front of him, eyes others would only see blankness in.

He saw pain, and grief, and anger, and hurt, and confusion, and horror. But mostly, he saw a feeling of emptiness that, under his cold Vulcan exterior, scared him witless.

All he could think of to say was, "We must go."

Tom nodded.

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Tom carried B'Elanna back to the transport site in a daze, following Tuvok blindly. His face was streaked with tears and blood.

Finally, he heard, "Beam Lieutenants Paris and Torres directly to Sickbay."

The next thing he knew, that's where he was.

The Doctor knew B'Elanna was dead as soon as he saw her. "Put her on the Surgical Bed," he instructed Tom. "And then let Ensign Groves attend to you."

Tom laid B'Elanna down gently, and then turned to look at the Doctor, pushing away the young man who tried to lead him over to a biobed. "No, I'll help you." The Doctor nodded absently. There wasn't time to argue.

"Initiate an iso-synaptic pulse. 90 mili-jules."

Tom did, while the Doctor attempted to get her body to create more blood to replace what she had lost. He called Ensign Groves to repair her damaged skin.

"Again, Mr. Paris, 100 mili-jules this time."

Nothing happened.

"Come on, B'Elanna," Tom whispered. "Come back to me."

Nothing.

After a while, the Doctor finally gave in to the inevitable.

"There's nothing more we can do. Time of death."

But Tom had stopped listening. He gripped her cold, bloody hand, and cried hot tears.

That's how Harry found him a few minutes later when he entered Sickbay. Their eyes met, and Harry knew what had happened.

"Oh my God, no."

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"Today we gather to honor B'Elanna Torres. Beloved Chief, friend, and wife." Tears filled the Captain's eyes as she spoke, a few days after they had run from Thentrian space as fast as Voyager could carry them.

"She was one of the most brilliant women I've ever met. I couldn't have asked for a better Engineer. But she was more than that. She was my friend. She was always there, steady and strong, up until the last moment of her life. I wouldn't trade the last few years with her for anything."

Tom stood up to take his turn. "I love B'Elanna. I love her more than life itself. I love her now, even though she was stolen from me. Her warmth, her light, brightened my days, and made me a better man. I owe her everything. Everyone on this ship owes her something. Their lives, at the very least. You know, we used to joke about how she loved her engines more than she loved me." Tom laughed weakly. "But that wasn't true. She would have seen her engines methodically smashed to bits, if it meant helping one of us. We'll all be worse of without her. But she'd tell us to face it with honor, and with strength. And even though it'll be hard, that's what I intend to do."

A few moments later, everyone stood as straight as they could, wishing her honor and safe passage to Sto'vo'kor as the small black torpedo tube shot softly though space, toward Earth.

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