To Tell the Truth, Part 2/8: Parole

Chapter 3

Two metres from the doors to the Mess Hall, Tom halted.

"Computer, run Paris Sleep One Part Three in the Mess Hall."

A forcefield blinked to life and barred the doors. He waited semi-patiently until the computer announced Paris Sleep One Part Three was complete and the forcefield fell.

As he entered the Mess Hall, moans could be heard from the seventy-one Tom had beamed to the Mess Hall. They still lay on the floor, across each other, and slumped in chairs, wherever the computer had found space to stash them until he came for them. Now, as the antidote the computer had just administered began to counteract the myzine, Tom murmured quiet reassurances as he scanned each person in turn with the tricorder. By the time he reached B'Elanna, whom he intentionally had saved for last, most of the group were looking groggily around them.

"Tom?" she mumbled muzzily.

"It's okay, B'Elanna. Lie still for a moment. The myzine hits Klingons a little harder than other species."

"What is going on, Lieutenant?" Chakotay asked, bracing himself against a table a couple metres away to hold himself upright.

"All will be explained once everyone is lucid, Chakotay. In the meantime, if you can get everyone to take a seat?"

"Okay." Chakotay was reluctant yet did as asked, enlisting the aid of Neelix, Seven, and some of the others who were shaking off the effects of the gas faster than their companions.

When B'Elanna was awake enough to be moved to Seven's nearby and newly vacant chair, Tom stepped towards the empty space in front of the serving area. "If I may have everyone's attention, please?"

Everyone quickly noticed Paris or heard his voice and shushed each other. All eyes in the crowded room were focused on the only one who seemed to know why they were there and what was going on.

"I thank you for your patience and ask for a little more while I explain. All of you have been exposed to myzine gas. It is used as an anaesthetic. Some of you may be experiencing a mild headache or nausea. Mild is okay and it will pass within a few minutes. If these symptoms get worse or any one develops any others, tell me immediately and I'll take care of it."

"How did this happen?" the Commander demanded.

Tom looked him straight in the eye. "I did it."

There was a collective gasp.

"All of you know that Voyager now is within two weeks journey of the nearest starbase. At the end of that time, those of you who came on board from Chakotay's ship are going to be facing Starfleet and no amount of good reports from Captain Janeway is going to make Starfleet totally forget about the fact you were Maquis. At the very least you will be permitted to remain in Starfleet with a formal note made in your records about your Maquis past. I doubt there would be much chance of a real promotion, but perhaps. At the very most, definite prison sentences. The only good thing about war with the Dominion and the Cardassians is that there is no chance of you being handed over to them. For the moment anyway. But one day the war will be over and Cardassians have long memories." He resisted the urge to flinch as Camet and his fellow Cardassians growled in agreement. "I don't think anyone in this room other than Seven and Neelix need to be told how they treat their prisoners."

The eyes of practically everyone, except the two previously acknowledged, dropped. A few people even cringed, the memories of their own experiences with the enemy or those of someone they had known coming back to them.

"So this is where you have to make a choice," Tom continued. "Will you take your chances with Starfleet being lenient and once the war is over the Cardassians not being interested in extraditing anyone who has been out of the quadrant for almost five years. Or, there is choice number two. Those who decide they don't wish to gamble on Starfleet can leave Voyager."

"How?" an ensign from Astrometrics wondered. "The nearest starbase is two weeks away so we can't just beam off the ship."

"Yeah," someone from the other side of the room chimed in, "and there are no habitable planets in the near vicinity."

"And we can't take some of the shuttles without their warp trails leading them straight to us," a crewwoman from shuttle maintenance added.

"I have a plan which will work," Tom assured everyone, "but I won't go into it now. For now all of you need to concentrate on deciding what your choice will be. Do you leave Voyager or not."

He scanned their faces. "I have done my best to include the significant other of each of the Maquis so you can make this choice together. If I have missed anyone, please inform after I've finished so I can rectify the situation. The ship's grapevine is only so accurate about who's with whom this week or whatever. Trust me, I know that fact intimately." His smile was somewhat off-centre.

"What about Seven and myself, Tom?" Neelix asked. "We're not Maquis or romantically involved with any of them."

"No, but I wanted to give you the same chance the others were getting. I can't predict the type of reception you will receive, Neelix, probably not anything untoward though. You will be the only Talaxian in the entire Alpha Quadrant. Your knowledge of your home region of space will be invaluable to future exploration of the Delta Quadrant so you
most likely will be treated well."

He turned to Seven. "You, on the other hand, won't. If you think the reception you have received from some on Voyager has been cold or hostile, it will pale in comparison to what awaits you. Physically, you are more human than Borg now and mentally you are making great strides in re-assimilating to humanity, but that won't matter to those who
lost family to the attempted Borg invasions of the Alpha Quadrant. Despite your progress, you will be seen as Borg first and foremost. You will have to decide if you can withstand that hostility or worse. Some people may attempt to seek their revenge on the Borg by going after you. The Captain and Starfleet might not be able to protect you from them."

Seven stiffened. "You think I might be murdered."

"Or imprisoned. Or sent to a facility to study you as a specimen. Or nothing bad could happen. You still deserve the same opportunity to consider your fate as the others, Seven."

"You are aware this is mutiny, Lieutenant?" Seven asked him.

Tom considered this for a split second then shook his head. "No, Seven. It would be mutiny if I were proposing we commandeer Voyager and make off with her. I merely am making an unscheduled stop for an unscheduled departure that's all. The ship will never leave the Captain's command. Not really."

"You are justifying your actions through a technicality."

"Yes," he answered simply.

"And what if one of the people in this room decides to do their duty and stop you?"

"That was a risk I was willing to take, but as you can see-" he gestured to the assembly quietly listening and watching them- "No one has done that, just as I figured they wouldn't. This crew is what the Captain calls it - a family. I was betting on all the 'siblings' having enough respect for one another to permit each other the freedom to choose their fate. This is not about disrespect for the Captain or Starfleet or the Federation or duty. This is about the rights to individual freedom and personal safety, two things the Captain and Starfleet and the Federation and duty are very much about."

He made a gesture of conciliation. "Yes, strictly speaking this is against the rules. And, strictly speaking, since part of Voyager's original mission was to capture any Maquis they could as well as recover Tuvok, then the Starfleet crewmembers who are here should be doing their best to prevent anyone from leaving. But that mission flew out the
proverbial window the moment the two crews became one. I don't think you'll find anyone in this room who would attempt to force anyone to remain here against their will."

To that, Seven had no response. Even if she did not understand the others' behaviour, she was aware that this crew's loyalty to one another was beyond question.

Tom addressed the others. "You have 30 minutes. If you are staying on Voyager, be in Holodeck Three by that time. The computer will make a general announcement when the time is up. If you are going, go to your quarters and begin packing. Only the essentials. You all know the drill. When I have finished talking with those who wish to remain, I
will contact you with the next step. All of you may go anywhere you wish to think this over as long as you refrain from touching any of the rest of the crew. I've checked them all. They're all fine. Don't worry about them. If I haven't administered the antidote to the myzine within four hours, it will wear off naturally. As for the ship, she's all stop and
there's nothing to worry about."

He paused for a moment. "I don't think I need to remind anyone that everyone here is an adult with right to decide his or her own future. No one will look down on anyone for choosing to go or to stay. If you don't agree with what I'm trying to do here or if you don't agree with someone's decision to go, keep it to yourself. Don't try to influence their
decision. Agreed?"

The assembly nodded.

"Good. Computer, run programme Paris Clock."

"Paris Clock running."

"I'll see all of you in thirty minutes."

Stepping back to indicate he had finished, he watched as they filed out in ones, twos, or small groups. No one came to him to inform him he had missed someone. He briefly enjoyed feeling of relief at having got something right when another feeling overtook him - the feeling of Chakotay grabbing his arm and pulling him behind the serving counter and into the forekitchen. Tom could sense B'Elanna watching them, trying to decide if she should follow or not. For
the moment, Tom ignored her.

"Do you honestly think whatever scheme you've hatched up is going to work?" the Commander demanded incredulously.

"Yes," Tom answered simply. "I have run the simulations for weeks now and it will work." With a jerk of his head, he indicated those who had not left for other parts of the ship to talk alone. "Even if everyone of them decides to go or only one of them, this will work. The plan is flawless."

"You've been working on this for weeks?"

"Yes."

A thoughtful expression crossed Chakotay's face. "Like eight weeks?"

Tom's eyes narrowed. "How did you know that?"

Chakotay gathered his thoughts and could not meet Tom's suspicious gaze. "You've been acting strangely for that long."

As the Commander rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the group still in the room beyond them, Tom's eyes narrowed even further. He was about to ask what was going on in Chakotay's head when the other man began to talk.

"So, you've spent two months planning this."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why do this?"

"Yes."

"Because of the reasons I stated. None of you asked for this and you can't be sure what lies in store for you if you stay. You need the opportunity to make up your minds before it's too late to go."

"So you decided to give us that chance."

"I am the only one who could."

That got the Commander looking at him again. "Why only you?"

"Who else could help you? The Captain? Tuvok? Any of the rest of the Starfleet crew?" He shook his head. "No matter how much they would like to, they can't. They'd be sacrificing their careers. Imagine what that would do to their families. After so long of thinking them dead, to have them back, alive and well, only to be taken away from them again, to be court-martialled and maybe imprisoned. Yes, it is not as bad as their being thought dead or so far away in the Delta Quadrant, but they'd still be separated. There are visiting hours at most facilities, but its not the same as being there, in their home, with their family, free to go wherever, whenever, and with whomever they choose."

"But to do this..."

"Chakotay, I'm the only one with nothing to lose. They can't court-martial me again. I'm not Starfleet and haven't been for years. I came on Voyager as an observer." He gestured to his uniform. "I only wore this when I came onboard was because they felt it would cause fewer questions than if I wore civvies -" He laughed darkly. "-Or my official prison garb." He touched the Lieutenant jg pips on his collar. "I only wear these because the Captain needed an officer at the helm and gave me a field commission. It's not real. Starfleet Command would have to approve my returning to the 'Fleet and the reinstatement of my commission. I don't see a snowball's chance on Vulcan of that happening."

"Tom-"

He cut the Commander off. "None of that matters anymore, Chakotay. What matters is what all of you want to do now." He laid a hand on Chakotay's shoulder. "I can wake her if you honestly want me to. I don't know how strong your relationship is, but she might surprise you and want to come with you if you wish to go."

As the older man did not ask the identity of the "she," Tom took that as an indication they were on the same wavelength.

B'Elanna, apparently unwilling to wait any longer, appeared at Tom's side. Chakotay's reaction to her arrival clearly was one of gratitude.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Chakotay told them as he hurried from the kitchen.

"Tom, tell me you aren't serious about all this," B'Elanna implored.

"I am, B'Elanna."

"I see." She straightened her shoulders and looked up at him. "So, what are we going to do?"

Tom cupped her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek. "You are going to decide what you want to do."

"Me? What about us? We should decide together."

Drawing her into his embrace, Tom kissed her gently on the mouth then laid his lips beside her ear. "You know that if nothing prevented me I'd follow you wherever you went," he whispered, making as close to a verbal declaration of his love as he ever had made so far.

"Stray puppy," she whispered back. "Show you a little affection and you're mine for life."

His lips curved into a slight smile that faded back into seriousness. "You have to decide where you want to be, what will make you happy."

"What about what you want? What about us?"

"Forget about trying to conform what you want to what you think I'd want. You decide what you want and I'll be happy."

She turned her face into this neck. He could tell this simple statement had brought his strong, half-Klingon mate near to tears.

"Promise me you'll do that, B'Elanna," he murmured insistently. "Promise me you'll think about only what you want and make your decision accordingly." When she did not answer, he tightened his arms. "Promise me."

"I promise," she finally whispered so softly he almost did not hear it.

"Good." He kissed her on the side of her exposed neck then stepped away. "You need to think and I have some thing to take care of. I'll see you in thirty minutes."

"Tom?" Her teary voice stopped him before he could get more than a metre away. "You're not doing this because of me, are you?" she asked when he looked at her. "Because I once told you I didn't know if I could handle prison?"

He reached across the space separating them and touched her cheek with his fingertips. "Partly, yes. I couldn't stand the idea of you in prison." He grinned mischievously. "And with your... issues with authority, I don't think the prison could stand it either." The grin faded. "Mostly because of the others, though. Like I told Chakotay, they deserve a chance. I know first-hand how Starfleet treats traitors. Even with them now being against the Cardassians in this war, the old saying 'The enemy of my enemy must be my friend' won't mean much once the war's over, if it means anything right now."

She smiled. "You're trying to redeem yourself."

One of his eyebrows rose a la Tuvok.

"The Maquis. It still hurts you that you were caught on your first mission for them. This is your way of making it up to everyone."

He merely shrugged and left the Mess Hall.

It was so strange for him to be walking through the corridors of Voyager and seeing crewmembers lying on the decks, unconscious, yet not doing a thing about it. He did it all the same, however, until he reached his quarters. Inside, he withdrew a small, hard-sided case from the back of a drawer in his sleeping area. Opening the case, he tipped two padds onto the bed. After giving the contents of each a quick once over, he added them to the padd with the list of names and the hypospray in the medkit bag still slung across his chest. As he did he momentarily was mesmerized by hypospray.

Abruptly, he shook himself. That was for later. Right now he had things to do.

"Paris to Doctor."

"Is the Captain done her meeting?" came the eager response over his combadge.

"No, not yet."

The tone flattened. "Then there is an emergency you cannot handle."

"No. The maintenance teams have discovered a problem with the Holodecks."

"Everything seems fine here."

"It's with the controls. Until the problem is solved, you'll have to stay where you are."

"What exactly did Engineering say was the problem?"

"There wasn't time for specifics. Just that the doors weren't responding to commands and there was a problem with communications. I can call you, but you can't call me. You'll have to stay where you are."

"Well, how soon will it be fixed?"

"Most everyone from Engineering is occupied with something else at the moment." 'That much at least was true,' Tom thought, as quite a few of them were trying to decide whether to stay or leave. "It will be as soon as possible though. Sorry, Doc. Paris out."

Sitting heavily on the bed, Tom massaged his temples. He hated lying, even if it were all for a good cause. The Doctor had to be kept locked up for the time being. Hologram or not, the EMH was a Starfleet Officer. Tom did not want to find out how he would react to what currently was happening onboard. He could not risk the Doctor stopping him from doing what he had to do.

He sighed. If only there was some way the Doc and his family could go as well, he thought yet again. Over the past two months, he had agonised over this dilemma as often as he had over the Holo-family's case. After all of that worry, he still lacked a solution. No matter how long or hard he thought, he could not think of a plan which did not cancel itself out at some step of the way.

How would they leave Voyager? The mobile emitter might have been the answer, but it was designed for only one hologram at a time. Who would go and who would stay? The entire idea was for them to be able to stay together. And what if the emitter needed repair? Only the engineers on Voyager understood the emitter and then it was only the basics. Some of its technology still was a mystery to them.

So the mobile emitter was out.

What if the programmes for the EMH and his family were downloaded into his back up module or a small memory core like that of a shuttle? If anything happened either during the transfer or the trip to their destination, they would be risking losing them. But there was a chance of success.

Plan okay so far.

What would their destination be? Being holograms their universe necessarily was confined to a Holodeck. The problem was where. Holodecks need some place to be. Since they were trying to evade Starfleet, the site would have to be out of the way and secret. Easier said than done, but do-able.

A pre-existing Holodeck would be good, but if it existed it probably was earmarked for public use. A private one for them alone would be best. But how would they pay for the cost of constructing and maintaining the Holodeck? There was no way other than the Doc going into private medical practice. Potential patients would have to know where to
find him. Eventually Starfleet would hear about the hologram practising medicine and where and Starfleet would know who the hologram was and come to reclaim him. All would have been for nothing.

What about the Base? The Holodeck there would do. Whomever left Voyager could transfer the programmes to it once they arrived there. But the same problem would arise. The Doc had become accustomed to socializing the others. He craved it the way most other species did. Eventually he would become bored in the holographic Universe and yearn to interact with the real one. When he finally gave in to that desire, he would either have to leave or invite people to him. Then word would get out and Starfleet would swoop in and get them. Only quite a few might die in their attempts to breech the Base's natural and artificial defences.

No, there was no way for them to leave Voyager.

"Computer, time remaining?" he sighed.

"Twelve minutes, fifty six seconds."

"Beam me to the location of canister alpha."

With no one awake to monitor the use of the transporters, he now could make liberal use of the site to site function to uninstall the myzine gas canisters. In less than a quarter of the time he had taken to install them, he disconnected each one then sent them to Sickbay. Once that was finished, he used the transporter one last time to beam himself to the corridor outside Holodeck Three to see how many of the seventy-one had decided to stay.

He was taken aback when he saw there were only seven missing from the Holodeck. As the Computer announced the end of the thirty minutes, Tom rechecked the names on his padd against those listed on the display outside of the Holodeck. The count stubbornly remained the same. Only seven were leaving and Chakotay and B'Elanna were two of them.

His chest tightened at the absence of his beloved's name amongst the list of those inside. Part of him had hoped she might chose to remain. She and Harry were going to need each other soon. He closed his eyes and sighed. Too soon, he thought. All along in planning this, he had been thinking of some point in the future, not now, not yet. But it was
now and he had no choice. She would have Chakotay and Harry would have his family. They would help them survive what was to come.

After tucking the padd back into the bag, he removed an access panel. Quickly, he detached the connections which permitted the Holodeck to access systems beyond those of the Holodeck. Leaving the panel leaning against the corridor wall and the parts he had removed in a carefully arranged pile next to it, he entered the Holodeck.

The moment he walked down the Resort steps to the main terrace where everyone was milling about, they gave him their full attention.

"As the thirty minutes are up, I am assuming everyone is here and those who are here are positive they wish to stay."

There was a general murmur of assent.

"Fine. Seven?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"When was the last time you regenerated?"

"Nine point three hours ago."

"Okay. You'll be alright here for some time then."

"For some time?"

"Yes." He turned to everyone. "I know all of you came here in good faith, and I appreciate that, however I am going to ask your indulgence for a little longer, approximately ninety minutes longer. I know it's asking a lot for you to remain here for that long, but I would not be doing so if it were not necessary. I hate to phrase it this way, but those who are leaving cannot risk any of you suddenly having an attack of duty and attempting to stop them. Therefore, I'm going to secure the Holodeck to keep all of you in here."

There was a general shout of disagreement.

He held up a hand to calm them. "I know you don't like that idea, but it will only be for ninety minutes and it is necessary, not only for the others, but for all of you as well. Fake logs for the internal and external sensors will be substituted to cover up what will soon happen. When the rest of the crew wakes, they are going to want to know what happened, where the others are, and how they left. They will want to statements from everyone to confirm what the logs say. I don't want to put any of you in the position of having to lie about what happened. I could offer to remove the memories of the last thirty some odd minutes from your memories, but I won't. I doubt any of you want me messing about in your minds, seeing as I'm not the Doc. My reassuring you I know what I'd be doing and had done it before, successfully, wouldn't mean much."

"Um, Tom," Neelix interrupted, "where *is* the Doctor?"

"Confined to Holodeck One," he admitted, frowning. "I couldn't come up with a way for him and his family to leave Voyager and have any expectation of a life." Tom looked hopefully at the others. "But if any of you can think of something, I am all ears. I don't know if he'd agree, but he is aware of his rather precarious position now that this ship has a realistic expectation of returning home. He and his family *might* just choose to go. If there is a way."

There was silence and Tom tried to hide his disappointment. Still, he was not entirely successful.

"He is in Holodeck One with his family," he told them. "I have told him there is a malfunction and he cannot leave for the time being. Once this is all over he automatically will be returned to Sickbay and the computer is programmed to inform him of the crew's medical status and why."

"The Computer will?"

"Yes."

"Then you're leaving too."

Tom looked away momentarily. "I won't be here, no," he told him.

The Talaxian immediately rushed up and gave him a bear hug. "I shall miss you, Tom."

He very briefly permitted himself to return the embrace. Stepping back from his friend, Tom stiffly nodded to the others then walked out into the corridor.

"Compu-" Tom's voice cracked he was so overwhelmed with emotion. He cleared his throat. "Computer, run programme Paris Padlock on Holodeck Three."

"Paris Padlock running."

Tom checked the Holodeck display to ensure the locks were in place as the Padlock secured the doors and blocked communications to and from the Holodeck. Everything was in order.

"Paris to B'Elanna, Chakotay, Hydrat, Moi, Oliva, Redstone, and Vavin. Meet me in the Main Shuttle Bay with your belongings. Paris out."

For a moment, he leaned against the corridor wall. All of a sudden he was so tired, he realized. All these weeks of planning almost were over and now, with the end in sight, he wondered if it would be of any use to the seven who were going. What kind of life were they going to have? The Maquis were no more so there would be no returning to them.
Not that it would have been easily to do so anyway. They had spent nearly five years walking, talking and acting as Starfleet. If they could have found their way back into their old lives, they'd never have been trusted. They would have been suspected Starfleet spies. Now the Maquis were finished and there was a new war, with new players at the table to join the old. Would they revert to their old ways of being rebels? Would they just include the Dominion in their list of accepted targets? Or would they settle down somewhere out of the way and try to begin new lives?

That was for them to decide, he thought, fingering the special hypospray in his bag. He had his own plans for the future to worry about. He straightened and strode off down the corridor.

When he entered the shuttle bay, he saw all seven were present and standing with their possessions in front of the large, long distance shuttle, Argo. B'Elanna looked as though she wished to say something to him, but Chakotay's hand on her shoulder forestalled her.

Other than their names and Maquis affiliation, Tom knew little about the others. Hydrat, Moi, Oliva, Redstone, and Vavin. None were big fans of Tom Paris, the Maquis traitor. Yet there they stood. Obviously whatever they had done in the past had made them so desperate to evade Starfleet that the idea of placing their trust in his orchestrating their
escape was viewed to be the lesser of two evils.

"If you'll join me over here at this console? Computer, access Holodeck programmes. Run programme Paris The Great Escape Simulation with variation One Red Herring, One De-boned, Stage One on this console."

"Acknowledged."

"The first thing that happens," he told them, "is a faked log for the external sensors is spliced into the real ones to show the following."

As they watched, the display showed two shuttles leaving the Main shuttle bay.

"The first shuttle is yours. The other is unoccupied and on autopilot," Tom explained.

Ninety seconds after it had exited the bay, the first shuttle and Voyager both leapt to warp. At the same instant a phaser beam from Voyager caused the unmanned shuttle to explode into fragments of less than a decimetre square in size. Everyone gasped.

"When triggered by a phaser beam, the explosive which will be used to blow the shuttle has an interesting effect on warp trails - it scatters the warp particles making it extremely difficult to trace the trails for some distance from the epicentre of the explosion. By the time a ship's scanners will be able to detect the shuttle's trail you'll be far enough into regularly travelled space that it will be exceedingly difficult to pick your trail from all the others."

"But why blow the shuttle?" Chakotay asked. "Why not just detonate his explosive of yours in open space?"

"There needs to be some debris for any investigation to discover. Given the size of that debris they won't be able to tell how many shuttles exploded, but- Computer, run Stage Two - the logs for the external sensors will tell them this is what happened."

The simulation repeated, this time one of the shuttles collided with the other and the pair exploded as Voyager leapt to warp.

"The explanation for it will be pilot error," he said in a monotone. "Naturally, I will be the responsible pilot."

"Tom, they won't believe it," B'Elanna insisted, horrified.

"Yes, they will. The internal sensors will show me as suffering from lingering side effects from Steth's occupation of my body. My personal log will be altered to reflect me hiding the effects so I wouldn't be removed from the helm."

"So then what happens?" Oliva demanded.

"Computer, Stage Three."

The display changed to show a star chart of the surrounding region of space. The site of the explosion was marked with a sizeable crimson splash. The path of Voyager to the nearest Starbase was a lavender line in one direction. The path of the surviving shuttle was a pale blue line in another. Both lines lead into Federation Space though the blue one was a long a less travelled route.

"Stage Four."

The display zoomed in on the shuttle's journey. Finally it stopped at a tiny moon in a small, uninhabited system identified only as System 476254.

"A thousand years ago, this system supported a thriving population, but the planets are uninhabitable now. The only people who come there are the occasional archaeologists who think there might be just one more significant find to be coaxed out of the ground." He smiled ironically. "They'd find quite the treasure if they knew just where to look and how to *see* what it was that they were looking at."

Before anyone could ask what that cryptic comment meant, the shuttle on the display approached a moon's northern pole and deliberately began to nosedive. The jagged peaks of mountains and deep valleys of the surface came into sharp focus as the ship rushed towards it. Just as they all thought a crash was inevitable, the ship veered away at a thirty degree angle to the ground and slipped neatly into a cave otherwise hidden by the outcropping of rocky cliffs which surrounded it on three sides. The craft flew on for thirty seconds in total darkness before motion sensitive lights snapped on. With the illumination they saw the shuttle was in a huge cavern which looked large enough to hold Voyager. There it landed.

"There is no atmosphere on the moon but if someone puts on an EVA suit they can go out to establish one for the cavern."

A figure in an EVA suit was beamed from the shuttle to an innocent outcropping of rocks a few metres away. The person triggered what proved to be a hologram of rocks to disappear and pressed a button. Two enormous doors slid into place and the cavern was sealed. Moments later a light on the panel flashed from red to green. The EVA suited figure tripped a door in the cavern wall and walked through then the display went black.

Tom turned to the group. "An artificial atmosphere has been created so EVA suit can be removed. Beyond the cavern, there are living quarters, a science lab, medical bay, you name it. There are enough rations in storage to sustain all of you for three months if the replicators go off-line. All of you can stay there quite comfortably until you decide where you're going next."

"What is that place?" Hydrat asked, pushing her too long brown bangs out of her eyes.

"It's a hiding place of mine. I haven't used it in years, but I know it'll still be there. In the entire system, there isn't a single resource left that is of interest to anyone. The previous inhabitants picked her clean before they died out. Other than for archaeologists, there is no appeal to the system. For obvious reasons, the chances anyone has stumbled across the Base are slim. You'll be safe there."

"You keep saying 'you,'" Redstone remarked, looking at him carefully, "why?"

"Because I won't be with you."

B'Elanna looked like someone had punched her in the midsection.

"There is something I have to do here before I can leave."

"Then do it now," the half-Klingon urged him.

"I can't. Not until everyone is gone."

"But then you'll come."

He stroked her cheek. "Then I'll be gone, yes."

She smiled slightly and his hand dropped as he looked at the others.

"The Argo is the biggest of all the available shuttles so-"

"The Montgomery is the biggest," Moi interjected in her superior tone.

"Yes, but at the moment it's in about fourteen pieces in Shuttle Bay Two as shuttle maintenance has it in mid-overhaul. The Argo is the next best thing *and* it has just finished being serviced so it should be in perfect condition. The Marcus will be the one sacrificed. It's never handled quite right anyway. It'll be no great loss."

"Why not just use some parts and blow them up?" the ever-practical Vavin asked. "Why blow an entire shuttle?"

"Two reasons. One, for safety's sake, until the time of detonation, the explosive is not a single compound. It is four harmless components that must be kept a very specific distance from one another. Too close and they will cause a premature explosion. Too far and they'll never explode. It will all be timed so that point zero zero nine four seconds before the phaser beam will hit, a small charge will blow the components from their mounts and towards a central point where they'll explode."

"So what's that got to do with the shuttle?"

"The shuttle is an enclosed space. I can mount the components in precisely the correct locations. With scraps we'd have to take the time to phaserweld them together to hold them in place when they were launched. And I wouldn't have any control over their trajectory like I will with the Marcus. If the explosion didn't happen in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, the explosion could damage Voyager or the Argo."

Oliva's snort indicated his thoughts- probably the same ones that were going through Redstone, Moi, Hydrat, and Vavin's heads. Tom Paris, self-professed best-damned pilot in the Galaxy, telling them a manoeuvre was too difficult. Tom ignored it.

"The second reason a shuttle is better is because very careful records are kept of what supplies are on board. They'd know there wouldn't be enough room in the shuttle for all of you, your things, the supplies you're going to take with you, *and* some spare shuttle parts. Sacrificing a shuttle is the only way."

"Where'd you get this explosive?" Redstone inquired suspiciously in his best security officer voice.

"I don't have it yet. I'll replicate the components in a few minutes."

Hydrat's eyes bulged. "You're going to wander around Voyager with them?"

"It is dangerous only when all four of them are together. I'll replicate three of them, mount them on the Marcus then do the fourth."

"Where'd you get this... recipe anyway?" Redstone questioned.

"That's not important. What is important is it works."

"You've done this before?"

"Yes. Right now we have to get everything you'll need together and get you out of here as soon as possible. You can't still be here when the myzine begins to wear off and the others wake. Has everyone finished packing?"

They all nodded.

"Fine." He withdrew a padd from his bag. "Chakotay, you're the best pilot here so I'll give you this." He handed him the padd. "I will pre-programmed the entire flight path into the shuttle, but you may wish to review it in case something happens and you have to take her off of autopilot and do this yourself. Best review it now while I'm still available to answer any questions."

"Okay."

"Oliva, you help Neelix in the Mess, right?"

He nodded.

"If you will take Hydrat and Vavin with you to raid Neelix's stores for supplies. You'll need enough for eighteen days."

"Why can't we just have replicator meals?"

"If something happens to the replicator, you'll be stuck with emergency rations."

There was no need to say any more. Everyone present had been forced to endure the less than appetising rations before and were reluctant to do so again if possible.

"B'Elanna, Redstone, Moi, if you will go to the Marcus? It's in Shuttle Bay Two. Strip her of anything you think you could salvage. Medkit. Hand weapons. The lot. Site to site transport them here then stow them on the Argo."

Only B'Elanna and Chakotay moved. The five near-strangers to Tom stayed put, regarding him warily.

"You don't have to worry." Tom assured them, guessing that distrust in him was the reason for their immobility. "I'm not going to suddenly beam all of you into the brig and turn you all into to Starfleet or something. As the instigator of all this, I'd be the one the charges would stick to anyway. Understood? Fine, I'll see all of you back here when you're done then."

Nodding begrudgingly, all except for B'Elanna and Chakotay departed. Chakotay looked from one to the other.

"Could you give us a minute, Chakotay?" Tom asked.

Less-than-willingly, he announced he was going into the Argo to review the padd and check the shuttle's supplies.

"Tom?" B'Elanna called softly once they were alone. "You're not angry are you? About my choosing to go?"

Gently, he touched her face with the pads of his fingers. "No, B'Elanna, I'm not angry. I told you to choose what was best for you and you did."

"If you want to stay, it's not too late to-"

He covered her lips with his own. So thorough was the kiss, she had to cling to him to hold herself upright when he broke the kiss and buried his face in the hair at her neck. "I love you," he whispered so softly that she almost missed it. "I love you more than you'll ever understand."

"I love you, too," she murmured back, the roughness in her voice revealing she was fighting back tears for the nth time that day.

Trying to imprint the unique scent and feel of this woman on his memory forever, Tom inhaled deeply and held her to him. He tried to absorb every detail to remind himself that this was a big part of the reason he was going to do what he had planned. This precious creature in his arms had to be saved from The Protectors' wrath.

Feeling himself seconds away from tears, he pulled back. He kissed her lightly on the jaw where he always had planned one day to place his mark when they both were ready to move on to the next in their relationship. She seemed to understand the significance of this as she reached up and kissed the spot on his jaw where she had bitten him
seemingly so long ago.

The two parted and she left the shuttle bay.

Tom's hands clenched at his sides as he fought to hold the tears inside. He could do this. He *had* to do this. He could not break down now or he would not be able to follow this through to the bitter end. He had to be strong for her. For all of them.

The gentle hand on his shoulder nearly was his undoing.

"Tom."

His posture straightened but his gaze never left the doors to the corridor. "I need you to promise me something, Chakotay," he said in a monotone. "I need you to promise me you'll look after B'Elanna for me."

The older man moved around to the younger's side and scrutinized his features. "You're not coming at all, are you?"

"No."

The hand dropped.

"Starfleet, the Maquis, and my family aren't the only ones who wish I would disappear from the face of the Universe. There are a couple of others I could name who won't stop until they have me or I'm dead."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That's for me to worry about. You're concern is the six of them." Without making eye contact, he handed him the last of the padds from his bag. "This one is for B'Elanna. Don't give it to her until you reach the Base."

"She is going to be devastated."

"I know, but it has to be this way."

"I honestly was beginning to think you loved her."

Tom's eyes snapped to the older man's, tears glistening in their blue depths. "Don't ever presume to think you know how I feel about her," he rasped. "I am doing this for her- for everyone on this ship."

"Tom-"

"This is the only way to keep her - everyone safe."

"Tom, there's always another option."

"Not this time. The computer and I have spent two months evaluating this from every angle. This is the only one which will work."

"But-"

He gestured to the padd. "Have you finished reviewing the information."

Chakotay refused to be side-tracked. "What is it that you have to stay behind to do? Where are you going if not with us?"

"I told you that's none of your concern, Chakotay. Just let me worry about it. Do you have any questions about the route?"

"I don't have any," he said, abandoning the line of questioning with obvious reluctance. "You've covered everything."

"And the instructions about the Base? The areas that are off-limits for your own safety and the codes for accessing everywhere else?"

"I understand."

"Fine." Near the belongings of the others, the first of the salvage from the Marcus materialized. "Well, they certainly are quick. You start loading the Argo. I'll pre-programme the flight plan then go replicate the explosive's components. Excuse me."