DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Star Trek contents. I do not own Red Hot Chilli Peppers lyrics from "Porcelain" either, but I was just listening to it, and couldn't resist…

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WHAT MAKES THE BEST PILOT

Chapter FIVE

by YANNIK

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Comm chime didn't wake him up. Regardless of the sedative Tom slept restlessly. His 'supernatural sixth sense' didn't like what was happening with 'Voyager'. And it was right – of course.

"Mr. Paris, wake up!" Chakotay was shaking him.

"Wha…"

"We're having some problems. I know you were due to the bridge in a few hours, but we need you now!"

Tom barely heard him, and most certainly – didn't understand.

"I have no choice Mr. Paris. Sorry" Chakotay said, pressing hypospray to Tom's neck.

It took seconds for Tom to wake up. He didn't really need Commander's explanation, to know how quickly he had to get dressed and get to the conn. He nearly pushed Baytart away, and took over controls. They were running – at warp 7, though warp core indicated warp 3 as usual – towards a white giant!

Neuro-activator was already kicking in. Tom asked for gravity parameters, and as numbers started coming to his console, he found a current in the field, that he could cling to. He started turning slowly. Gently. One degree, three degrees, five, eight… He needed to lose speed to.

"Engineering, we need to slow down to warp 2, but we have to do it gradually. Very. Steady."

"Understood."

They managed. Soon Voyager was circling around the star, using her gravity to spun farther, deeper into the cluster.

There was another star ahead of them, but it was smaller, and they weren't at collision course with it. Tom smoothly used it's gravity field to turn, and dive ahead.

"Are we on the estimated route?" he asked Tuvok, and received confirmation.

He allowed himself a deep breath. Slalom between the stars was not easy, he had to stay focused. But somehow it already was rewarding. Excitement started building up, and Tom couldn't help but smile. He vaguely remembered, that he was usually scared of how the activator made him feel – those two previous times. He wasn't scared now!

Another dive, another turn. Gravitational streams were like a river. A dangerous river full of rocks, whirls, rapids. It required extraordinary skill to maneuver through them. And Paris had that skill, he knew that. Despite anything Commander Chakotay could say. Mockery, silly jokes, humiliation – were behind him now.

The only thing that mattered, was just another star ahead. Yellow dwarf. Not too small, not too large. Just like Sun. Far away, shining upon Earth, in distant Alpha Quadrant. It's gravity wasn't that disturbing, and Tom could finally adjust 'Voyager's' speed. They slowed almost to warp 2 at Engineering, and as they moved past the star, Tom risked turning 'Voyager's' back directly at the star.

It pulled. They started decelerating. And just when they reached actual speed of warp 3, gravitational effect of yellow dwarf got to small to have any influence on them. They run forward. Towards another star.

Tom had no idea how long he was running, but – little by little – he started hearing voices of people on the bridge. They were fairly disturbing now. He tried to focus on piloting, not listening to Captain asking Harry about distance to the center of the cluster. It was not important. Not for him. Not right now.

Neuro-activator is wearing off – he realized. He swallowed hard. What now? Uneasiness concerning first period of driving was faintly knocking to his mind. He recalled now, why activator's influence always scared him off like that. He was apt to get so immersed in his job, that the outside world didn't matter.

And now it was even more – it seized to exist!

He didn't want to feel this way, he wanted to be aware of reality!

Yet another thing his father always told him to do: "Stick to reality Thomas! Be real!" And that was something Tom was always able to agree with.

Numbers on the console forcefully brought this reality upon him again. There was another giant looming ahead! Tom hesitated. They were heading to it's left, but that was the path to the center of the cluster. They were supposed to go around it. But if he turns right, he may not have time to catch the orbit! And then they would smash…

"What are you doing?" He heard Tuvok's loud question. Vulcan was scared! If Vulcan was scared…

"Neuro-activator is wearing off" someone said.

No! Don't shot me with another one! I want to know what's happening around me!

Too late. He felt cold metal press against his neck, and heard soft hiss.

And within seconds he was back out there. He confidently turned to the left, as currents led him, circled around the star, and escaped her gravity at the exact moment, where he could catch the correct route around the cluster's center. Forgetting all his fears, all reluctance.

What happened? What was he thinking? Didn't he know the consequences of avoiding the activator all too well? Didn't he already do it once? Didn't it cost too much?

He made a conscious choice now – not like the last time, when it was – in a way – forced on him. He was aware of all the implications – both for him, and for his ship, his crew. And he made the decision. He had to stick to it. There was no turning back now.

There were so many stars. Big ones – pulling them hard, small ones, but of huge mass, and powerful gravity, ones that could be avoided easily, and ones that 'Voyager' struggled to cope with. Numbers on the console told the pilot about the next one nearing, and then staying behind. He danced around them, swam like a fish in a mountain stream.

Warp speed was constantly changing. Dropping to warp 2 when they were escaping gravity field, and increasing to warp 5 when they were closing on another one. There were many stars.

Tom smiled again. Oh yes, he knew what he was doing. He knew what he was risking. Even if in reality it was – as B'Elanna said – sacrificing himself. He did it for 'Voyager'. For the ship and for the crew. It mattered. And he was doing it willingly.

Number of stars was increasing still and still, as they neared central regions of the cluster. Sliding on the currents became more and more difficult. Many gravitational fields were intermingling with one another, and finding the right way through them was getting nearly impossible.

Suddenly there was a disturbance, and 'Voyager' was forcefully pushed out of the flow. Subspace demonstration of a red giant outstretched it's welcoming arms, and helpless ship, with equally helpless pilot on it, drifted swiftly towards the surface.

Tom fought controls. Fought with all his ability and might, struggling to stabilize the orbit. Semiconsciously he realized there were red lights flashing now, instead of soft yellow glow.

They were falling! Red giant right ahead was sucking them in, speed increasing rapidly. Warp 4, warp 5, warp 5.5. Tom managed to turn slightly, but it was to no avail. Distance was dropping. 2 light hours, 1.5, 60 minutes… shrinking within seconds. What was a small ship with it's petty warp engines, against a red giant? Nature was showing poor human where their place was – Tom thought bitterly.

He barely registered Captain's brisk orders. They were not helping. Nothing could help! It was ironic – just a moment ago Tom thought about sacrifices, about his sacrifices, and now he only wished there was anything else he could sacrifice, to save this wretched ship. But there was nothing…

Or was it?

"Captain! I need more activator!" he shouted. He hoped he shouted, because his link with reality was still feeble. But they heard him. Cold metal. Hiss.

Neuro-activator kicked in.

And then everything changed.

All of the sudden Tom saw – with incredible clarity – enormous star ahead of him. Not the numbers at the console, not even the view screen. Just a star hanging in cold vacuum of space.

He was flying to it!

On the edge of his consciousness there were still people depending on him, but what really mattered right now, was his own survival. He acted on instinct. He searched for gravitational currents. He saw them! He outstretched his hand and caught the stream of gravitons, pushed himself away with other hand. Away from the red giant.

Still not too far. She was holding him, but he managed to turn, to dance around the bright sphere. It hurt to look at her, and it wasn't even the actual star. Tom… no, not Tom anymore… Voyager knew, that was only this star's display in subspace. They were dancing, running in subspace. She was racing him. And he escaped.

He escaped her, and then he escaped another one. And then yet another.

And then he allowed himself to look at them finally. They were beautiful! He's never been inside something quite like that – a star cluster. The meaning of that term finally reached him. There were millions of stars around him, each of them different, yet all of them unified in eternal dance. Circling around one another, teasing, caressing, changing partners. And colliding sometimes with force unimaginable. And shining. So bright with all shades of burning fuel – blue, white, yellow, red. Even some little brown dwarves.

Tom… Voyager… For a moment he wished he was a star.

And then he was just happy to be a starship. That was enough. Running through the space, seeing all those marvels. That was enough. That was exhilarating…

But there was something wrong. Suddenly he wasn't sure anymore if he was really a starship. There was that other name, that other identity. Tom? Who was Tom? Why was Tom him?

No! He didn't want that! He wanted to return to space, he wanted to touch the stars, to push away from them, to dance, tease and caress them…

"I need another dose" some voice said. Tom's voice. Tom wanted to be him – to be Voyager.

"We're almost clear form the cluster, Mr. Paris. I suggest you continued on what's still left in your system…"

"No! I need another dose!"

"We're really close to safer territory, and then Mr. Baytart could take over. There's no need to inject you with another one, because then you would require more time to recover…"

"I need another dose! Just give it to me!"

Cold metal. Hiss.

Relief.

And stars in open space again. Voyager smiled inwardly. That was what he needed. He needed to see the stars, to touch their burning spheres, to swim in their warm currents of gravity. Drifting and flowing and fading away… little low… always…

But not always. Suddenly he realized he was sitting at the conn, on the bridge, and he was Tom Paris again.

"What?"

"I gave you suppressant, Mr. Paris. We're safe now, please give up the conn."

"I can't we're…"

"We made it. You made it. Not in five days – in a little over twenty hours. I have no idea how you did it, but that escape from the most dense region was… Well I don't even know how to name it. Congratulations. Now please step away."

Tom decided to pretend he didn't hear her. He wanted to continue this journey. He wanted to unite with the ship again.

"Tom?"

I'm the 'Voyager' – he thought with all force there was. I'm the 'Voyager'! But it was to no avail. That feeling didn't return. Will it ever? Tom wanted to cry.

He looked to the side – Captain Janeway was standing there, hypospray in her hand. Was it the suppressant? Yes. There was another – abandoned – hypo, right behind her, on the edge of the console. And it was full of activator. If they run for twenty hours, there must have been a lot of it left. If he could just grab it!

"What are you trying to do?" Captain noticed his longing look. "Mr. Ayala, please recycle this!" she took the hypo, and handed it to the officer. And then she turned to Tom again. "If you don't think about flying anymore, you should resign the conn. That's an order."

"There's no point Captain" Tom answered dryly, as he turned his full attention to the console again. "It's still couple of hours before the activator wears off. I may spend them here."

"I'd rather you didn't Lieutenant."

Silence was to heavy to bear with. And then Tom just knew he lost. He felt like he lost himself.

With heartbreaking sigh he passed controls to Ensign Baytart. Substitute's reactions at the helm were rough, as if 'Voyager' resisted another pilot than the one she could link with.

Tom gripped his teeth and fought the urge to push that incompetent helmboy away and sit back. He exhaled deeply once more and turned to the crew.

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To be continued

.Y