Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek, I'll be sure to return Kathryn, Chakotay and any other characters I borrow back to the right shelf with no prior memory of this incident. Thank you.
A/N: And you guys said I wouldn't post regularly – LoL – okay, so you didn't exactly say that, I just spent ages feeling guilty while I sat in the examination hall going, "Hmmm, I wonder what should happen next." Anyway, thanks for the reviews again! I just love reading 'em – you guys rock! This one's for all of you… especially Seokie who I've been trying to get to read my stories for ages and who finally has – thanks for the unbiased views and the support! flashes my award winning smile
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Believe in Me – The Scent of Murder
B'Elanna Torres watched patiently as the woman she once called Captain wore a well traced path from one end of the living room to the other. Next to her, on the sofa, Harry Kim sat squirming uncomfortably. It took B'Elanna all the self-control she had not to tell him off. Instead, she laid a calming hand on his shoulder. He was still young, and although far more experienced, not very much unlike the naïve ensign who had come onboard Voyager ten years ago. It must be unsettling for him, she reminded herself, to see The Captain in such a frazzled condition – so unlike the collected ambassador to the Delta Quadrant she had once been.
She looked back as Kathryn finally stopped outside the Paris-Torres living room window which overlooked their vast garden; undoubtedly the older woman was remembering last year's Voyager reunion. It had been Voyager's 2nd Anniversary and Chakotay had insisted they have Delta-Quadrant themed food. This had ensued in a heated discussion between him and the pregnant Captain who, although hadn't been able to stand Leola Root before, now abhorred the vegetable. Undoubtedly, at this very moment Kathryn Janeway was regretting that argument.
"Captain," B'Elanna moved to the window before Kathryn could inflict any more emotional abuse on herself, "Why don't you come and sit down, huh? Tom will be back soon."
Kathryn looked into her ex-chief engineers eyes, and the anxiousness and worry she saw there brought her back to reality. "Yes, I think I will. Thank you." She turned to face the rest of the room, and found six concerned gazes trained on her. "All of you," she added as an after-thought.
"The Commander was our friend too. It is only logical that we want to save him as much as you do." Tuvok, the Vulcan's steady logical voice cut through the room.
"We want to know why he's in there as well Captain. We want to set him free," the Doctor chimed in.
It was true, she realised. They really did want to see him back at her side. All of them; which was why Tom had gone all the way to Starfleet Headquarters today, a Sunday, to "dig up" any information he could find on the arrest. Although he hadn't mentioned it, she was sure he was going to use what he called the "Paris Act" on the computer's safety backup system. Kathryn thanked the stars that he was so identical to his Admiral father who had access to Starfleet's top records and information.
The front door slammed and the much-awaited Tom Paris burst into the room. "Hi honey," he winked at his wife, B'Elanna, before addressing the rest of the room. "Hey, we're all here, and it's not even a reunion!" He looked around for a moment, "Well…not all, I mean Sev…"
"What did you find out?" B'Elanna cut in dragging her husband over to the sofa. Somehow, ever since their wedding, Kathryn and Chakotay hadn't liked to discuss the ex-Borg. Overnight, the pictures of her and Kathryn had disappeared from the mantelpiece, bar the one where she stood in a group picture with the rest of the senior crew. Seven, in turn, hadn't turned up for any Voyager reunions or Christmas parties. Although B'Elanna suspected there was more to the saga than met the eye, she put it down to Seven's discomfort over being dumped by Chakotay for Kathryn, and her eagerness to breakaway from Voyager, which although no one would admit was as much a collective to the blonde as the Borg had been. She was probably much immersed in her new life as a lawyer for one of Starfleet's top notch law firms.
"I've got Chakotay's civilian and Starfleet profile, criminal records, voter registration forms, court files, arrest logs, counseling details" he said as he handed the padds out to each of them.
"Thanks," said Kathryn as he handed one to her. Personally, she would have preferred to go over all of them herself, that way she could ensure that no one missed out on anything important, but she realised it was probably more important now, than it had never been before, to show her crew she trusted them – besides hadn't they shown their courage and quick-thinking in other dire situations. Just because neither of them had been in space since Voyager's return didn't mean they were suddenly inept.
The padd Tom had given her, Chakotay's Starfleet profile, didn't tell her anymore than it had when she had been sent off on Voyager to capture him. The only added details were that his time on Voyager was seen a penance for the crimes he had committed as a Maquis and any commendation earned on Voyager could be transferred to the Alpha Quadrant as well. It went on to say that since his promotion to Captain, he had started teaching an anthropology course at Starfleet Academy and the most recent that he was in Starfleet's London Based prison.
Although the last piece of information was new to her, it wasn't welcoming intelligence. Criminals sent to London were usually those termed as 'extremely dangerous' and didn't see the light of day until taken across the outdoor court into the execution tower – which although now rid of the noose favored by the old British Kings and Queens, now housed a sickbay which dosed prisoners sent there with lethal drugs and pills.
She had to take a deep breath to clear her mind of the last thought, as she looked around the room at her friends, hunched over their padds. Perhaps one of them would come up with something of more use – because right now the only plan she could come up with short of bombarding their way into the penal centre; was to commit a felon serious enough to gain admittance into what had once been the renown tourist attraction; now closed to all, bar Starfleet personnel of the highest ranking or those with their permission.
One by one, her closest friends looked up, each face as black and apologetic as the next, until at last it was only Tom reading from his padd. Kathryn knew he had probably saved the most interesting padd for himself, but surely he would be done by now – those tablets could only store about an hour and a half's worth reading information on them.
"I'll get us a drink," said B'Elanna finally as her voice pierced the tense silence and she moved from the living room.
Kathryn nodded gratefully. She wanted to smile and give them all great big hugs to show them how grateful she was, but not only was she far from a sentimental person, her heart was too heavy and her mind, miles away. She had been to Tower of London only once since it had been converted into a prison, she remembered the campus being neat and tidy with flowers and big trees. Even the waiting room had been pleasant, with large comfy chairs, but she remembered the shocking conditions of the inmate's cells, so unlike the reasonably comfortable prisons of the 21st century and although the rooms housed most commodities people looked for in a basic living facility, such as libraries and a holodeck, those rooms were kept in the poorest conditions… newspapers were battered, padds dented and the a large grid of the holodeck which someone informed her had been damaged from a fight – had never been repaired. Although London was one of the coldest habitable places on this 24th century Earth, the beds were covered with a thin blanket and heating units were scarcely functional. She remembered thinking that if that was the life you were going to get for getting revenge on the Admiral who had send your brother out to war, vengeance wasn't worth it.
"I've got it!" Said Tom suddenly, looking up. A loud crash was heard from the kitchen as B'Elanna dashed into the room. Upstairs Taya Janeway and Miral Torres-Paris burst into tears, startled at the loud noise their parents were making. "Seven's firm is representing Starfleet, the plaintiff. She'll definitely know what's going on."
"Tom, I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Annika has made it perfectly clear she doesn't want anything to do with us," said Kathryn. It was just their luck that the one piece of useful information they could get had to involve her. "There's something else. There's got to be." She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice.
"Oh, come on Captain," said Tom oblivious to the passion in Kathryn's tone, "We need all the help we can get. Surely Seven will want to help; I mean if it wasn't for you, she'd never be the person she is today." And for the second time in his life, Thomas Eugene Paris went against her orders and marched to the console.
"Tom, I don't…" B'Elanna warned, but it was too late.
"Mrs. Hansen, its Tom Paris, is Seven, I mean Annika there, please?"
The older woman seemed taken aback by Tom's statement. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days, but her sunken, bloodshot eyes came to life when she saw his face. "You! You have the nerve to call here after what you and that… woman… have done to my niece!" She was aggressive, so unlike the patient lady Seven had introduced at Voyager's homecoming. Her eyes blazed with anger as they looked out of the communications console, past Tom's confused eyes and into Kathryn Janeway's blue ones. "You deserve everything you've got!"
"Uhum," Tom cleared his throat as he looked away from the now blank terminal and back into what would have been a quiet room if not for the wailing coming from the nursery.
Kathryn stared at the screen, stunned and shocked. Never had so much hostility been directed at her personally; she didn't know what to do, what to say, how to react. "Taya," she forced out the excuse hoarsely and dashed from the room quickly, shaking her head the keep the memories from flooding back.
"You don't listen do you?" hissed B'Elanna as she followed Kathryn out.
Tom turned back at the three men left in the room with him, "I didn't know. I swear, I mean I thought the only reason we never see her was because she was too busy being a lawyer. Why didn't you say something?"
It took a moment for Tuvok to reply, "It is clear Mr. Paris that there is more to the 'only reason we never see Seven of Nine' than her duties to the bar."
"Humph!" Said the Doctor, "She seemed fine the last time I talked to her."
"You've talked to Seven?" Asked Harry.
"Yes, but not since six months ago."
Tbc…