To Tell the Truth, Part 2/8: Parole
Chapter 2

It was so long ago now. So much had happened in the interim, all leading inexorably back to what occurred on that biobed, in The Treatment Room in The Lab at The Centre. "The Maltreatment Room," a part of his mind snarled, that was what they should have called it.

At less than two hours old, he was at an age most would insist the average humanoid would neither be able to remember nor focus his or her eyes. True, there were no clear images of that hated place. His dimly aware mind only processed the blinding lights and the pain. Oh, the pain. It felt like the very inside of his head was on fire.

The scene shifted forward eight years. Now he stood in an anteroom to the Treatment Room. Beside him stood one of The Protectors, Alpha Two, his proud creator and principle controller. He listened as Alpha Two painstakingly explained each step of the process being performed on a three-day-old Bolian girl on the other side of the transparent aluminium window.

"You were slightly younger than she is when you received your Implant, AlphaOmegan 41783," Alpha Two informed him in the matter-of-fact tone of voice he and his fellow Vulcans all had in common. "Even as small as The Implant is, a momentary pain is felt when it is inserted into the brain. If you watch the monitor, you shall see the process."

As he was conditioned to do, AlphaOmegan 41783 obeyed and watched the monitor on the desk before them. At first it showed only a subatomic scan of normal brain tissue. Then it changed as the microscopic device was beamed into the centre of the girl's cerebrum. With in a split second it had settled itself in its new home and spread out to establish subcentres throughout her brain.

Suddenly, The Implant vanished. AlphaOmegan 41783 briefly narrowed his gaze, eyes still on the monitor.

Had Alpha Two been anything other than Vulcan he would have scowled at that.

"It is cloaked," the boy concluded, frown lifting. "So any medical scans which are done will not stumble across it."

"Yes. AlphaOmegan 41783, you must learn to control your emotions and outward displays of said emotions. When you were confused by the disappearance of The Implant just now, your confusion showed on your face. You must not permit this to continue. You must subjugate your emotions and any such displays. If I could see it, you can be certain
an enemy would. It gives the enemy an unfair advantage if it is simple to know what you are thinking merely by looking at your face." Alpha Two then intoned the words that would follow AlphaOmegan 41783 into his other life as Thomas Eugene Paris. "Never permit anyone to know your true thoughts or feelings or they will find a way to use
them against you."

"I will do better, Alpha Two," the child responded automatically in a monotone of his own.

"See that you do. I do not wish to have to resort to Re-Education as the means of your achieving this necessary skill."

Another leap forward. This time it was a sixteen year leap and not to The Treatment Room or the anteroom. This time it was the Re-Education Room.

"Do you understand?!" Alpha Three growled at the bloodied and exhausted twenty-four year old strapped into the chair in the centre of the chamber.

Alpha Four stood silently off to one side of the door watching the Re-Education of their fallen angel. Alpha Two's star pupil had failed them. His Romulan brows lowered in a frown. It was inconceivable. AlphaOmegan 41783 had been perfect, the best of all the AlphaOmegan soldiers. Except for the routine corrections that had to be made to his behaviour as he matured, there never had been a call for a Re-Education on this scale.

Alpha Two entered the room. His eyes evaluated the young man barely conscious and trembling uncontrollably. His eyes took in the frustrated look on Alpha Three's already fierce Klingon face. He turned to the Romulan with one brow raised in mute inquiry. He did not like the shake of the head he received.

"I should have been informed the moment he was recaptured," Alpha Two censured Alpha Four.

"You were busy with Alpha One discussing the Gamma Quadrant situation," the Romulan explained calmly. "The Re-Education had to begin as soon as possible."

Alpha Three stomped over to them. "It's not working. I have injected him with seven doses of the burayte so far and he still had not surrendered control."

"Perhaps, Alpha Three, you should abandon that approach," Alpha Two said suggested.

She cast her narrowed gaze back to the prisoner. "Are you trying to say he's become immune to the burayte?"

"Or built up a tolerance."

"Impossible," Alpha Four scoffed. "Unlikely, not impossible. Because it never has been done before does not mean it cannot happen. The proof may be right before you. They have been conditioned to respond to the burayte yet he has not."

Alpha Three glared at the hypospray in her hand then looked inquiringly at Alpha Two. "So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest you let me handle this."

They looked at him appraisingly.

"He was not Awake until you brought him in?"

"No," Alpha Four answered. "It was Tom Paris that we captured, not AlphaOmegan 41783."

"Good."

Alpha Three snorted. "Don't be so relieved. Have you seen the visuals the retrieval team brought back?"

"Yes, I have."

"Then you can see as well as we can that the two have overlapped. Tom Paris clearly desired revenge for what Camet did to Owen Paris and AlphaOmegan 41783 provided the means by which he got that revenge."

Alpha Four interrupted her. "I am still wondering how Paris knew about what Camet did to his father. Owen Paris is a Starfleet Officer. The entire incident was classified. He would not have told anyone, even his son, and especially not nine years after the fact. It makes no sense."

"Regardless," Alpha Three continued, "Tom Paris was able to access to enough of AlphaOmegan 41783's skills to track Camet and Meer and evade us, what more of him will he gain access to? If he can't be brought back into the fold-"

"He will have to be dealt with, I agree," Alpha Two concurred. "He knows and is capable of too much to be set free. But permit me to try first. If I am unsuccessful, then the necessary steps will be taken."

Reluctantly, the other two nodded and left. Alpha Two was the man's controller and patron. He did have the most experience with him. If he could not get him back, no one could.

When the chamber door closed, Alpha Two turned his gaze back to the prisoner. The tremors had calmed somewhat. He drew a chair over to the restrained man's side.

"You surprised me, AlphaOmegan 41783," he admitted, propping the sagging head back against the head rest.

The clouded blue eyes tried to focus on his teacher.

"Were you a mere AlphaOmegan you would be dead right now, eliminated because you would not be worth the time and expense of trying to bring you back to us. But Alpha One and I personally made you one of the Chosen Ones." He leaned in closer. "But we are not going to give you up so easily. You are an AlphaOmegan and a Chosen One and we have need of you immediately. No one else is suitable for this duty except you so you are going to come back to us." The Vulcan's hand lifted, fingers splayed and zeroing intently on the human's cheek. "You'll never leave us. You're one of us and we never let go of what's ours."

Tom Paris awoke with jolt and sat up straight, Alpha Two's words echoing in his head. Thrusting his hands through his hair, he groaned and reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Computer, end alarm."

Obediently, the wake up alarm ceased.

"The time?"

"The time is 0630."

Dragging himself off of his couch, he walked through the bathroom, discarding his slept in uniform along the way. His lids remained at half-mast the entire way into the shower. Long hours spent surveying and collecting supplies from the planet they orbited had taken its toll on him over the past week. As expected of all the crew, he had taken his turn planetside, but without the excitement which for him typically accompanied liberty.

'Liberty,' he snorted to himself. That word was a slap in the face for a man who no longer had freedom. It was hard to escape from the harsh reality of his life when the reality went with you everywhere you went. All he wanted right now was eight to ten hours of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.

*Like you deserve it,* Gul Camet's bitter voice echoed in Tom's head.

And reality was awake again.

Tom rubbed his temples to ease the ache that was forming there as it had every day for the last two months. There could be many explanations for this pain. His lack of adequate sleep. The presence of Camet and the others hiding in his subconscious. The malfunction of The Implant in his brain. Or, the most likely answer, the strain of trying to act like the normal Tom Paris while AlphaOmegan 41783's programmed behaviours were vying for supremacy. All he did know was that only working on his project on the Holodeck could banish the pain completely.

With his knowledge of the intended outcome of said project, Camet was silent during those times. At first Tom had worried the long dead Cardassian would some how force him to reveal his plan before the need to enact it came, if it ever did. Later, he realized Camet either was biding his time or he approved of the outcome so did not plan to reveal all... yet. Tom had no choice other than to continue his preparations and wait him out, not there was much he could do to thwart someone hiding somewhere in the darkest recesses of his memories.

How he wished he never had asked Chakotay to show him how to contact his spirit guide all of those weeks ago. Maybe if he had not felt envious of the Commander's calmness and self-control he would not have touched the akoonah and it would not have shut down The Implant. Maybe then The Sleep would be continuing and he never would have known the awful truth about his past.

*One day this precious crew will know you for what you are,* Camet taunted.

'No,' Tom insisted, 'they won't know because I won't ever tell them. The spirit guides promised me they'd never tell anyone what little they know about me. If no one tells the others, they won't ever know.'

*But we know,* he laughed maliciously and the others in his mind joined in. Though the Gul had taken to speaking for the others now in residence inside Tom's mind, there were occasions like this in which all of them spoke up to remind of their presence. *It all will come out,* Camet continued after the laughter had diminished, *about you being an AlphaOmegan-*

'A rare few know what that is,' Tom interrupted. 'Those who do think we're a garbled historical anecdote from the early days of the Federation. To their minds, if the AlphaOmegans ever existed, they were disbanded over a century and a half ago. Any continued tales of us are chalked up to stories created by conspiracy minded individuals with overactive paranoia. Even the Federation President doesn't know we still exist.'

*-And they'll know what you did to me and my father and the others who were with us.*

'I went temporarily insane,' Tom insisted, forcing back the emotions which threatened him. 'Finding out the truth sent me over the edge.'

*Like they'll believe that when they hear of all the things you did for The Protectors.*

The Gul scored a direct hit as he knew he would.

'I was mentally and chemically conditioned to follow all of The Protectors' orders. They can't blame me for doing what I was ordered to do and in the manner in which I was programmed to do it. Not when I had no other choice in the matter.'

*Like they will care about whether you wanted to do it or not when they know the whole truth. A killer is a killer is a killer. And you are one. One of the most vicious and cold blooded ones there is.*

'It's not my fault. The Protectors made me what I am. I didn't have any say in it.'

*Oh, yes, The Protectors. Your dear, demented leaders who'll want you dead too as soon as they know you're Awake and know all. Alpha Two told you they wouldn't let you go alive. I'll bet they're already planning the little accident which will do you in.*

It was on the tip of Tom's tongue to deny Camet's claim, but after a second thought he did not voice it. There was no hope left that he had been omitted from the EMH's report to Starfleet as an oversight. The hope had died the moment B'Elanna had called him down to Astrometrics about the message from the Admiral. If his father knew he was alive
then certainly The Protectors knew as well. The one truly good thing about the loss of the Admiral's message - other than he would not have to hear yet again about what a failure he was - was that any message from The Protectors, which doubtless had been imbedded in his father's, it was lost too. Now they would not be able to issue The Implant new Commands through the message. He actually might have a chance of retaining the life he had created for himself here on Voyager.

*Chance of...* Camet laughed malevolently. *You don't honestly think they'll let you run free? You, their star pupil? One of their Chosen Ones? Surely The Re-Education after the last time you went rogue would be enough to convince you they know you are too dangerous to be let roaming free. Besides, you won't have you precious little life here much longer. Even now, it is becoming harder and harder for you to keep from letting your true self out. Some time soon AlphaOmegan 41783 is going to overwhelm Tom Paris and then everyone will know everything.*

Tom knew he was right. He had been so careful since Awoken, literally and metaphorically, after the disaster with Chakotay's akoonah. And he had fooled everyone for over two months so far. Not wanting to pry, they cautiously had avoided the subject of his missing day and a half. Though he did sense some of them wondered if he were lying, most had swallowed the story he remembered nothing of his experience in the Spirit Realm or why he had been screaming for the majority of the time he was there.

Yet, as the days passed it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up the pretence. The effort was becoming too much for him. As most on the ship knew only his joking persona, it was simple to hide the changes in him from them. Trying to keep things from B'Elanna, who now knew him better than even Harry, was a trial. He had taken to the Holodeck to hide from her. And to work on his only hope of evading The Protectors when Voyager finally reached the Alpha Quadrant, he conceded.

*And what makes you think The Protectors will wait that long to get you back? What makes you think they sent a message to no one else? You can't be sure you're the only AlphaOmegan on board. Were they one hundred percent positive of your loyalty to them when they sent you here? Hardly. How could they be after you went rogue? I wouldn't be a bit surprised if The Protectors had placed another AlphaOmegan on board Voyager as back up in case you weren't totally back in line and didn't complete The Mission as instructed. Perhaps even now one of those who did receive a letter from the Alpha Quadrant is Awakening to who they really are as you did and plotting to terminate you for failing to complete The Mission. Remembered what that Mission was, yet?*

'Why don't you just tell me what it was and get it over with, Camet,' Tom growled. 'Clearly, you're dying to.'

*Oh, but that would ruin all our fun,* he returned smugly.

Tom hurried out of the shower. 'I may not remember what it was, but they can't fault me for not completing it. The Caretaker's snatching us from the Badlands and bringing us here couldn't have been foreseen. Voyager not being in the Alpha Quadrant and my not doing what I was supposed to do is not my fault,' Tom insisted desperately, yanking on a pair of briefs.

*Cling to your delusions,* the Gul cackled. *I doubt you'll have them for long.*

Shaking, Tom drew on a clean uniform then socks and boots. There is no use in bemoaning the past, he told the long dead Cardassian with more certainty than he felt. What is done is done.

Before Camet could argue further, the combadge still attached to the uniform on the floor chirped.

"Captain to Senior Staff. Meeting in ten minutes."

So much for breakfast, Tom thought and walked out, grabbing the combadge along the way.

"I couldn't believe it when Nicoletti told me," Harry was saying to Neelix when Tom entered the Conference Room and took his seat.

"It is rather surprising, isn't it?" the Talaxian responded. "Only two months ago everyone was receiving word from the Alpha Quadrant and wishing they were home and now..."

"I know," Harry laughed.

Tom opened his mouth to ask "And now 'what'?" but was interrupted by the arrival of B'Elanna and Tuvok. As Tom gave B'Elanna a brief smile as she sat down, the Captain and Chakotay entered and took their seats, closely followed by the Doctor.

"If we can begin?" Kathryn asked to catch everyone's attention. Once all eyes were on her she smiled at them. "As I can see from the looks on most of your faces some of you have already heard of the events of Gamma shift."

"So it's true then?" Harry interrupted, his enthusiasm getting the better of him.

She smiled indulgently. "Yes, Harry, it's true. We are approximately fifteen days travel at Warp 5 away from the farthest edge of explored Alpha Quadrant space."

Tom's jaw dropped.

Beside him, B'Elanna shifted forwards in her chair. "But how? A wormhole?"

Chakotay answered for the Captain. "During Gamma shift we discovered the planet we were orbiting was not as unclaimed as we thought. A ship entered the system and demanded to know our intentions. After we explained, they sympathized with our plight and sent us home."

"How?"

"They said something to the effect of 'Then you should be home' and suddenly we found ourselves here. No one has a clue how they did it."

"So they sent us home out of the goodness of their hearts?"

"They had been through something similar themselves and could empathize with us," Kathryn explained, shrugging.

"Have you contacted Starfleet yet?" Tom asked casually.

"Not yet. This area of space seems to have too much natural interference for us to do so."

"Maybe I can do something to cut through it," Harry offered hopefully, "then we can let everyone know we're coming."

Kathryn smiled. "Maybe you can, Harry. But, even if you can't, we should be through it in a few days then we will be able to contact them. In the meantime, we all have a lot to do."

As the Captain outlined the plans for the next two weeks and ideas were pitched for the party Neelix insisted must be thrown to celebrate their good fortune, no one seemed to notice Tom Paris's introspective mood. He answered when needed yet did not volunteer anything further to the conversation. He gave every appearance studying the navigational information collected by the Gamma shift upon finding themselves in an area immediately outside of - as far as Voyager's four years out of date databanks knew - previously explored space.

"Tom?" A hand stroked his hair. "Tom, you with me?"

He jumped as though he had just stuck his hand in the warp core. It took his distracted blue eyes almost a minute to register his surroundings. Everyone else had disappeared while he had been so lost in his thoughts that he had not even noticed the meeting was over. Without a word, he reached out and traced her features with his fingertips.

"Tom?" she whispered again.

"I need to get to Sickbay." He kissed her gently then rose and walked out, leaving one very puzzled half-Klingon behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Paris, how typical. Voyager almost is home and now you decide to show up to continue your studies."

Stepping further into the Doctor's office, Tom ignored the sarcasm. "I'm not here about that, Doc." He took a breath. "I'm here for you."

"For me?"

"Yes. At the meeting you didn't seem to grasp what this will mean for you and your family."

"Grasp what *what* will mean?"

"Voyager is returning home."

"Yes."

"You are the Emergency Medical Hologram."

"Yes."

"The emergency will be over when we get there. Have you thought about what will happen to you and your family then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He paused, gathering his words. "I mean, to put it bluntly, you're a hologram, the Emergency Medical Holographic programme. When this ship returns to the Alpha Quadrant the emergency will be over. Haven't you worried that they won't permit you to continue to exist?"

The Doctor stared at him, silently affronted.

"I mean, everyone on board Voyager knows you have long since ceased to be a mere hologram, but I wonder if Starfleet will see it that way."

"They didn't treat me as a 'mere hologram' when I met with them," he declared in a superior tone.

"Then you were a message from a ship presumed lost long ago and you had just saved the Prometheus from the Romulans. They didn't know quite what to make of you. The problem is no matter how much you have grown since your activation, to anyone not of Voyager, you'll always be a hologram and nothing more. Your very existence causes problems, ethical and moral ones. The whole 'Is he alive or not' and 'Is he sentient or not' debates will be brought up. If they declare you alive and sentient what about your wife and son? Are Charlene and Jeffrey any less alive or sentient? What will any judgement about you three mean for other holograms? If you three are alive, how complex does the programme have to be to be declared alive and sentient, as well? Think of the chaos that will ensue."

"I don't think-"

"Doc, people are enamoured with holoprogrammes and the characters in them. What would happen if those characters abruptly were declared sentient? I think of all the holographic Klingons I've killed in my martial arts programmes. If holograms are declared sentient I'll be declared a murderer."

Inwardly, Tom blanched at the truth in that statement and Gul Camet and company laughed.

"So you are thinking in order to avoid the entire debate they might find some loophole to avoid addressing it and erase us."

"I doubt they'll erase you, Doc. Everything you've learned over the past for years is far too valuable to them to be lost. I just wonder what form your existence will be permitted to be."

The EMH considered this in horror.

"Doc, I've done a bit of research. Looking for precedents and arguments which might help your case. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and go home and review it with Charlene and Jeffrey? I can transfer the information to your home for you."

He hesitated and Tom ploughed on.

"The Captain is in a meeting with Chakotay and Tuvok right now, but once they're through we'll go to them and see what they can do. Until then there is nothing you can do except spend some time with your family. I can handle whatever comes up here. "

The Doc nodded, distractedly.

"Try Holodeck One. The others are off-line for routine maintenance," he lied. He was not going to admit his tampering was the real reason they were off-line. He did not want to have to explain why he had need of them. But, thanks to another glitch he had caused in another of the ship's systems, the Holodecks had become a low priority on the repair list. Engineering would be too occupied with the bigger problem to worry about the Holodecks until much later.

Not knowing what he himself was in for, the hologram acquiesced and sent himself to the Holodeck One.

Tom slumped against the doorframe, hands rubbing over his face. 'Except for the last bit about the Holodecks, every word I said to the Doc was true,' he rationalized. 'Who knows what would happen to the Doc when an organic medical staff would be available to fulfil his function on the ship? It was better that he and his family are prepared for the worst ahead of time.' Remembering that did not make Tom feel any better. Focusing on his goal, he determinedly pushed himself upright and the feelings of guilt away.

"Computer, run programme Paris Padlock, Holodeck One."

"Programme running."

"Transfer file Paris Holographic Defence Arguments to Holodeck One. EMH programme authorized to access this programme."

"Acknowledged."

That should keep you there and busy until I'm done, Doc, he thought. Talking to his family and reviewing the extensive research Tom had done on his behalf would keep the Doctor occupied for at least an hour, Tom guessed. After that he was running the risk the EMH would attempt to exit the Holodeck or contact someone outside only to discover Tom's Padlock programme had him trapped and incommunicado. Tom did not like the idea of the anxiety that would cause the Doc and his family, yet isolating the Doctor was the only way he could think of for keeping him out of the way until he had done what needed to be done.

Taking a deep breath, he hurried behind the Doctor's desk. At the desktop terminal, he breeched the CMO's logs, reviewed any entries mentioning himself over the past two months then closed them and accessed his own medical file. After reading the passage regarding debacle with the akoonah, he ever so slightly manipulated the results of the scans that the Doctor had taken of him at that point and onwards to the most recent ones. 'That will throw The Protectors off of the scent,' he thought, closing the file and leaving the office.

In the main treatment area of Sickbay, he begin imputing instructions into the medical replicator. A moment later, a small vial of deep purple liquid appeared. This he fitted into an empty hypospray and set it to one side. He removed four small, empty compressed gas canisters from a cupboard and placed them in the medical replicator slot one at a time for the replicator to fill. While each was being processed, he emptied a medkit of its contents then stared intently at the hypospray on the counter.

'It was so small,' he thought, 'yet it had such potential to-'

He broke off his thought. He had too much to do to waste time. He tucked the special hypospray into a side pocket of the kit and carefully deposited the now full canisters in the main compartment. Slinging the bag diagonally across his chest, he approached the access panel to the Jefferies tube.

'Last chance to change your mind,' he thought, hand on the panel release. Sighing, he shook his head. "Computer, access Holodeck programmes and run Paris programme Alpha One Grease Monkey in Holodeck Two."

"Programme running."

"Add Paris Sleep One Part One."

"Added."

With the computer prepared to warn him of anyone's arrival in Sickbay and secretly beam him back there instantly, he triggered the panel release and entered the Jefferies tube. He had considered the problem from every angle and knew there was no other option. He only hoped none of the crew had reason to call or come to Sickbay in need of medical attention while he was off trying to save their lives.

Tom froze at the sound of voices. A maintenance crew. He had known he was pushing his legendary luck by hoping no one would stumble across him while he crawled to four different sections of the ship to place the canisters where they needed to go. It would be so like everything else in his life for Fate to step in and slap him down when he was seconds away from installing the last canister and returning to Sickbay.

Fate must have heard his thoughts and decided to jerk him around some more because he was *not* discovered as he expected. The voices where drowned out by the sound of an access panel being opened then closed a few seconds later. All was quiet. The crewmembers had exited the Jefferies tube. Not wishing to press his luck, he finished his
task and hurried back to Sickbay as quickly as possible.

"Computer, confirm no one has been in Sickbay since I left?" he commanded as he closed the panel.

"Confirmed. No personnel have been in Sickbay in the corresponding timeframe."

Tom reached for a blank padd and noticed for the first time that his hand was shaking. 'Stop it,' he ordered himself. 'There is no need for this. Focus on the outcome. In two hours, three tops, this will all be over. You have to be strong for the others. Remember, what you are doing is right. Even if they never understand the real reason why, you have to protect them from what is to come.'

The shaking lessened yet did not stop entirely.

"Computer, add Cauchemar variation to programme in Holodeck Two."

"Variation added."

Under his feet, he could feel Voyager slow and finally stop completely. Very few other than B'Elanna honestly believed his claim he literally could sense Voyager's speed by the infinitesimal vibrations of the deck plates under his feet. He had proved it to them over and over again as a party trick yet all except the Chief Engineer had assumed it was a carefully concocted ruse. B'Elanna believed him because she could do the same yet about any technical difficulties the ship might be experiencing, not her speed. Had he time to think, he would have hated it to be about her reaction to Voyager's abrupt drop out of warp and slowing to stop.

Fitting his blank padd into computer console's slot to send and receive data, Tom tapped out a few commands on the console.

"Computer, start Paris Sleep One Part Two."

"Acknowledged."

He felt the pressure on his ears change as the circulation vents to and from Sickbay closed and the force fields crackle to life to totally isolate Sickbay from the rest of the ship. As the computer counted down from one hundred, he watched the information about every crewmember's location and medical status download to the padd. By the time the
computer arrived at zero, the download was complete.

"The Myzine gas level is at zero," the feminine monotone announced.

The force field dropped and his ears popped as the vents opened. Working his jaw to relieve the slight pain from the change in pressure, he added the padd of information and a medical tricorder to the bag.

"Computer, beam all of the personnel currently in the Mess Hall to Cargo Bay Two," Tom ordered as he left Sickbay.

Deck by deck, Tom found crewmembers slumped over consoles and each other, unconscious. Carefully, he moved each one to the floor, scanned them with the tricorder then checked them off on the padd. Each time he found one of those who were highlighted on the padd, he ordered him or her beamed to the Mess Hall. It was an eerie task. The ship was silent. People he knew so well were strewn about like Naomi's toys after playtime. He had to leave half of them wherever he had lain them.

Occasionally though, he almost laughed at some of the sights which greeted him. The newest couple on Voyager was sprawled across the floor of a turbolift, still liplocked. Vorik and Jenny Delaney were in a heap on the deck next to a console they had been repairing, him with his hand on her posterior. Several crewmembers were in some state of dishabille.

The last stop he made before heading for the Bridge was Neelix's quarters. As expected, he found Naomi and her godfather sprawled on the living room floor amongst her toys.

"Computer, beam Neelix to the Mess Hall," he instructed after scanning the Talaxian and the little girl.

As Neelix vanished, Tom returned the tricorder and padd to his bag and lifted the little girl into his arms. Tenderly, he brushed the masses of blonde hair from her face. "I'm going to miss you, Cucumber," he whispered, calling her by his special name for her. "I'd hope to have more time with you, but this is the way it has to be."

He kissed her forehead then cradled her to his chest. Moments later, he was striding down the corridor with her to the nearest turbolift.

"Bridge," he ordered as their destination. "You'll finally get to see the real Bridge, Cucumber, not the one I created on the holodeck to show you. I think the Captain will relax the 'no children permitted on the Bridge' rule for once."

The doors opened at the Bridge level. Ignoring for the moment the sight of the unconscious Bridge crew, he walked straight to the science station where Samantha Wildman lay, half in her chair, half on the floor. Gently laying the little girl down, he moved her mother down beside her, arranging the two so daughter comfortably rested in mother's arms.

Nodding to himself, he began shifting everyone else to the floor. For a long moment, he remained kneeling beside Harry, smoothing the thick black hair away from his best friend's face. He was going to miss his little brother, his best friend, his role model. Maybe, had there been enough time, Harry could have redeemed him. Tom smiled crookedly. But there wasn't time. He brushed a kiss across the young man's forehead then patted his chest before rising and going down the stairs to the lower level of the Bridge once more.

He squatted down at B'Elanna's side where she lay on the floor next to the Engineering console. The tremors in his hands were back, stronger than ever. As he looked down at the woman he loved, a part of his brain begged him not to do this or at least change the intended outcome.

*And you know what will happen it you do,* Camet reminded him with a sneer. *The reason you started all this was so it didn't happen.*

'I know,' Tom ground out, snatching his hand away from his beloved's face. "Computer, beam Lieutenant Torres, to the Mess Hall."

B'Elanna dematerialized. He scrambled to his feet and entered the Ready Room. After a quick scan of Chakotay, slumped in the guest chair before the desk, he ordered him to the Mess Hall and turned his attention to the Captain. Thankfully, she, too, scanned as having no ill effects from the myzine gas. Tom gathered her in his arms to carry her over to the couch. After arranging her with a pillow under her head, he laid a hand on her cheek.

"You should have listened to everyone when I came on board, Captain," he rebuked her sadly. "They all warned you I was no good. You should have paid attention."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek then left, taking his things with him.