Series: Voyager

Seasons: 3 & 6

Pairing: P, All Part: 2? - WIP

Rating: PG

SYNOPSIS: AU. Alternate ending to Real Life, Tom fails to get out of the astro-eddy and disappear in front of the bridge crew.

Brass'Ka, part 2
By Synbou

2 years earlier:

"We'll have to reopen D38," the Ops Team Leader stated. "It is comparable to D12."

"No-no, no way" Tom fired back in response to Doum'bry's Conclusion.

Several members of Brass'ka senior's staff were gather around the Ops main monitor screen. On it, a map of the Van'ski asteroid belt was displayed. This chaotic and dangerous area of space had been divided into long corridors of various sizes, referred to as districts, or simply D, by the Ops personnel.

The districts stretched from one side of the belt to the other. They divided into possible traveling routes through the belt,
areas that were too dangerous to venture into, were undeveloped, or out of Brass'Ka's jurisdiction all together.

A few the dangerous stretches were flashing in red on the main view-screen and were the main reason for the management team impromptu meeting.

"Em'Aris, I am not coming back on my word," Tom said, turning to Brass'ka's Director. "I told the Herogens they could have D38 for their sordid little game and that's what they have. If I come back on my word, the entire sector will become the Herogens's Happy Hunting Grounds and yours truly will be their prey. Before you know it, I'll be dead, my organs will have been sold away to the Vidiians, and they'll use my bones for scrimshaw. No, thanks!"

Noel chuckled. "He's right, you know."

"Thank you, Noel," Tom replied.

"Scrim-shaw?" asked Em'Aris.

"Sorry," Tom apologized to those who were unfamiliar with that part of Earth history. "Scrimshaw was a form of craft sailors back home were doing during their idle time a few centuries ago. They didn't have much on hand, at sea, so they made carvings using bones and teeth of whales or other animals they had hunted.
Sounds familiar?"

Em'Aris nodded; his fat head seemed ready to roll off his rounded shoulders. "The trophies the Herogeans keeps from their hunt. Scrimshaw, indeed. Well," he said, coming back to the current problem. "If we keep D38 closed and maintain Red Flags on D11 to D14 how do we redirect traffic so that we can honor our agreements?"

"Midrange vessels normally traveling through large districts will have to be redirected to Medium districts," Tom said.

"We'll that would be nice," Doum'bry commented a bit too smugly. "But, don't they go through a large D instead of Midrange for a reason?"

"They do," Tom replied, forcing himself to ignore Doum'bry's mocking attitude. "Their pilots are usually not trained to travel through midrange districts and we don't have enough staff to pilot them through. However, we do have remote support working now."

"It's working on our ships, Tom," Noel reminded him. "We haven't tried on the travelers, yet. Besides, I doubt most of them will be eager to give us control of their ship's commands just like that."

"Noel, they already do when we come on board to pilot their ships through the belt," Tom argued. "As for the possible violations of their security argument, we will have to be very explicit about the technology that we use, its function, and its limits. I'll admit, it's not going to go with everybody. However, if we could just get a few ship captains to go along for now, it would be very helpful."

"We hadn't planned to propose this option to Travelers so soon, but it has to be done sooner or later. We developed remote support for situations like the one we have today. Besides, not only have we already demonstrated that by remotely accessing ship navigational arrays we can get to people in trouble quicker and safely, it's efficient and cost-effective. Trust me, just for that, they'll love it!" Tom added.

"He knows how to make a sale pitch, doesn't he?" Noel commented.

"Yes," Em'Aris had to agree. "Who do you think would go for it?"

"I've got a few names in mind and one or two favors to collect. Give me an hour. Meanwhile, stay in stage 2 alert and keep the large carriers moving in the LDs."

"All right," Em'Aris granted. "You have one hour."

"Meanwhile, we will try to find a better alternative," Doum'bry added.

"Fine," Tom said as he started to make his way to his workstation at the back of the room.

Noel exchanged a look with Em'Aris and shook his head. He then ran to catch up with the Duty Field Manager. From his desk, located on the upper step of the split-level room, Tom could see the main view screen perfectly as well as all the board operators looking after the flow of traffic in their respective districts.

"Now, that was impressive," Noel remarked simply.

Tom looked down towards the Ops Team Leader with mark animosity.

"Scrimshaw is what I'm gonna do with Doum'bry's teeth if he questions my authority in front of Em'Aris again.

"I had a feeling you would say something like that," Noel said with a sympathetic smile.

"And I thought I had problems with authority," Tom pointed out. "The belt is under my jurisdiction now. He better learn to live with it sooner rather than later."

Present time:

"Captain, we are now in range of the Van'ski Asteroid Belt" Ensign Harry Kim informed Kathryn Janeway from the Ops Station.

Finally! she thought with relief.

"Thank you, Mr. Kim," she replied. She took a calming breath before giving her next order. She was filled with anticipation at the thought of meeting with a former colleague - an old friend. Voyager had lost too many members of its family over the last six years, being reunited with one is blessing.

Janeway quickly glanced at the screen beside her seat and took in the size of this gigantic fence through space. The range of the Van'ski's Asteroid belt was incredible! Trying to go around it would take at least two months at maximum warp. Going across, on the other hand, could take the Starfleet vessel only four hours. There was no doubt in Janeway's mind which path Voyager should take if its crew ever wanted to get home.

That said, in order to go across, Voyager would require the authorization of the Van'ski Traffic Authorities. The belt was a dangerous place to travel through. Not only was it dense, spatial eddies were common occurrences. Voyager would need the skills of a highly trained pilot, someone who knew this field inside out. They would need a pilot such as Tom Paris.

"Captain, we are being hailed," Harry alerted her.

Janeway exchanged a smile with Commander Chakotay. "On screen, Mr. Kim."

"Captain Janeway, I am Director Em'Aris of the Brass'Ka Alliance. Welcome to the Van'ski sector. We have been awaiting your arrival with great anticipation."

"Thank you, Mr. Director. It's good to finally meet you."

"Tom would have liked to be the first one to greet you, however his duties have pulled him away from this area for a few hours.
He and his team should be back to our relay station Haynis'ka very soon. The station is only three light years away from your current position. I would suggest you meet him there. I'm sure Tom will be more than happy to guide you across the Belt to Brass'ka."

"I'm sure he will be, Mr. Director," she agreed.

"I will transmit the coordinates to you right away."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile. "We are looking forward to meet you in person."

"Likewise," Em'Aris simply said.

"The coordinates have been received, Captain," Kim informed her.

"Helm, plot a course and engage," the Captain ordered.

"Aye-aye, Captain," Pablo Baytard acknowledged.

"Safe trip, Captain," Em'Aris wished in them with a sincere smile.

"Thank you again, Mr. Director. See you soon".

The main view screen was momentarily replaced by an external view of the Van'ski Asteroid Belt. Once again, Janeway was taken aback by its size and beauty.

2 years earlier,

Tom looked up from his workstation as he heard a group of people coming in the large room. He noticed that other controllers were packing up their personal belongings as they were ready to leave for the night. It was late, at least for him, and the third shift of Brass'ka working schedule was about to beginning. For the forth time this week, Tom had pulled a double shift despite himself.

As Brass'ka kept on expending its range of activities, so did its staff responsibilities. As senior Duty Field Manager, Tom needed to be kept appraised of each district status. Were they open or close? Was traffic progressing normally? Were there reports of special eddies, if so how strong and recurrent were they? Were all the servers allowing them remote control working? Which member of his staff was working where and doing what?

Tom was now managing four different teams: the flight field crew,
the flight remote crew, Development and maintenance, and emergency services. Many people on these teams were cross trained, which made his life a bit a easier. Still, despite all the help of his team leaders, Doum'bry, Noel, and Tah'hid, his duties were starting to take over his life.

Sometimes, he wished Captain Janeway was there to give him some advised. How did she cope with being the captain of the only Starfleet crew, a mixed one at that, in the Delta Quadrant? On days like these, when he was working over sixteen hours, he was wondering what his friends Harry and B'Elanna would think of his lack of social life? What would Chakotay and the Doc say about his acquired assiduous behaviour? What would his father say?

He would probably say that you are bound to screw up sooner or later, a little voice inside his head answered.

Tom shook his head as he pushed the negative memory of his father away. "Don't go there. You're doing great."

"You're doing great, but isn't time for bed?

Tom looked up startled. "Em'Aris. Sir, please don't sneak up on me like that. You'll give me a heart attack!"

"My apologies, Thomas" Em'Aris said. Like his father, Em'Aris was in the habit of using Thomas and not the short form of the name. Unlike his father, however, the Director used it on a much more positive and respectful tone. "I was returning home from a charming evening in the company of the Wemdu delegation," Em'Aris continued. "And I decided to drop by before turning in. It is late, what are you still doing here?"

"I am working on a new navigational partition that will give Bambakian class 4 transports access to the remote support system.
It's due tomorrow. I started this a week ago, but then got sidetracked."

"Because of the incident in D12," Em'Aris pointed out.

"Yeah," Tom simply replied.

"Is it not one of Tah'Hid's team responsibility to write the partition," Em'Aris challenged.

"Yes, but Tah'Hid's team is under my responsibilities. Besides, enjoy writing them too."

"Among other things," Em'Aris vaguely added.

Tom only nodded.

There was something in Em'Aris's tone that struck a nerve. Maybe Tom was simply tired and a bit overwhelmed, still he felt the conversation was about to take a turned that he doubted he would like. It suddenly made him questioned Em'Aris's motives behind this unannounced visit.

Did Em'Aris think he was not up to the task anymore? The Director would not be the first one to loose confidence in Tom's abilities. His father had always been on the top of that list. Stop thinking about you old man! It never did you any good, he reminded himself. Again, he quickly pushed his father out of his thought.

Still...

Although Tom felt good about his performance as DFM, he knew that his lack of management and command experience was sometimes painfully obvious. This was mainly his fault. Until now, he had stayed as far away as possible from command positions.

Interestingly, as much as he blamed his father for his negative reactance to command, he had to credit Captain Janeway for his renewed faith in himself and his abilities as a leader. As he quickly continued to assess E'Amis's true intentions, he wondered if he had been wrong about his level of performance all these months.

"I know. Working on this project at the last minute doesn't demonstrate good management skills. I apologies," he said, trying to let his superior know that he was aware of the problem. "I could probably use some tips from Taun'die. I have never seen someone so well organized in my life!"

"Taun'die is the district project leader which you assigned to D12 after the system crashed, is she not?"

"Yes that's her. She's only been in this role for less than a year, but she is already on the top of her game. She's organized and systematic, effective and a genius at thinking outside the box. She's good with people. I know she can handle any crisis I send her. She has a lot of potential. She's promotion material. We don't want to loose track of her."

As Tom let the Director consider his last comments, he wondered if it was wise to send the conversation in another direction.
Focusing the discussion on somebody else, would not change whatever Em'Aris thought of him and his competencies.

It was ironic that he was thinking of giving someone a promotion, when he, himself, was afraid of being dismissed. It was a protective mechanism of some sort. He remembered doing things like that in the past. Although this time, he doubted that anticipating the worse in order to better shield himself from the bad news would really made him feel better. He had been giving too much of himself already.

This is foolish, he told himself. Taun'die's good, but she isn't trained to take over his position, yet. No body is!

"It is interesting that you bring up this idea, Thomas," Em'Aris told him. "I read several comments about Taun'die's performance in your previous reports, and I am actually considering giving her a promotion. I wanted to discuss the matter with you before doing so."

Tom felt another nudge in the pit of his stomach. He tried to mask his nervousness as best he could.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked with a confidence and a coolness he did not felt.

"As you said, Taun'die could probably give you good suggestions in improving your organizational skills. However, I doubt that better organizational skills would change the fact that the DFM is overworked and needs an assistant."

"You want Taun'die to be my assistant?" Tom asked, putting two and two together and hoping he would not come up with five.

"You see an issue with this proposition?" Em'Aris inquired.

"I would be crazy if I was," Tom replied with immense relief. Not only could he use an assistant, he could not ask for a better assistant than Taun'die. "Tank you Em'Aris," he added sincerely. "Taun'die's help would be invaluable."

"I think so too," Em'Aris said. "You are doing excellent work, Thomas. However, you will not be able to continue if we burn you out. I know you have a heavy workload and that you always go above and beyond to meet the increases in demands, as you are doing now to honour the Bambakian agreement. If you keep on working double shifts and over most of the days, we'll end up with an exhausted DFM.

"That wouldn't be good," Tom commented, with a side grin.

"No, it would not," Em'Aris concurred. "This is why I am ordering you to bed, now. I do not want to see you roaming around before midday tomorrow. Whatever you have to do, we'll have to wait until then. As for you new assistant, we will also finalize this issue tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Tom conceded. "Em'Aris, thank you."

"You are welcome, Thomas. Sleep well."

Present Time

The members of Voyager's away team took their places on the transporter platform. Janeway assumed her leadership by standing in the Center. Her second in command, stood to her right. B'Elanna was to their left. Harry, Neelix and the Doctor stood behind them.

"Nervous?" Chakotay asked his colleagues.

"You could say that," Harry replied. "You think he's looking forward to see us too?"

"What do you think?" B'Elanna challenged him in return.

"I'll admit Mr. Paris has been through great lengths to get the word out there that he was looking for Voyager," the EMH pointed out.

"Not only that, but to insure Voyager's safety as well," Janeway added.

"He sure seems to have made a lot of good friends," Neelix commented happily.

"Tom is a good man," Harry sayed with conviction.

"Yes, he is," Chakotay agreed. "I regret it took me so long to realize that. Our friendship was short lived."

"Not short lived, Commander," Janeway told him. "Just put on hold for awhile. It's time to reunite this family, wouldn't you think?"

She was right.

Janeway turns to Tuvok. "Energized, Commander."

2 years earlier

The beeping sound announcing an incoming call kept on ringing.
Tom sighed as he identified what had torn him away from the comfort of sleep.

"You better get that," the woman lying next to him said sleepily. "I doubt that the caller is going to give up."

Tom yawned. "Didn't hurt to hope so," he told her as he brought himself into a sitting position by the side of the bed. He rubbed his face to wipe away the drowsiness. He peaked at the old fashion clock on the night stand. "Go back to sleep. It's very early... Way too early..."

The beeping sound persisted.

"Alright, alright, I'm awake." He mumbled as he made is way to the computer consol to answer the call. "Taun'die," he acknowledged his newly appointed assistant.

Taun'die had been his Operation Manager for at least two weeks now, and she was proving to be a blessing. The only thing annoying was the realization that her calls would always mean trouble. If Taun'die could not deal with whatever problem they were facing, it meant he that would have to expect the worse.

"Sorry to wake you," she apologized.

"That's okay, I'm use to it," he waved away her apology. "What's going on?"

"Another Borg sphere appeared in D-12. The remote system crashed 38 seconds later. There is no way of knowing from here if it is active or not," she answered cutting to the chase.

Big trouble, indeed, he thought. "I'll be right there," he assured her, now fully awake.

As he got ready, he considered the possible implications. What concerned the DFM the most was that, somewhere out there, a race had decided to go head to head with the Borg, and Vans'ki appeared to be on the receiving end of it.

A shiver ran up his spine as he recalled finding hundred of agonizing Drones partially dismantled by something they now referred to as Nanophaged. No matter what people thought of the Borg, the living being hidden behind the machinery did not deserve such a fate.

As he left his apartment, he wondered if it would be wise to bring Noel along. Their last rescue mission (make that salvage operation) in D-12 had proven difficult on his ex-Borg friend.

TBC

End of Part 2

A/N: We know, this story was also over due... We hope you enjoyed this transition part. There will be more soon.

Synbou would like to thank Maxine for her support.

Feedback is always appreciated.

April 2005