To Tell the Truth Series, Part 3/7: TogethernessBy melanie ( ~melanie's_mind )
(post "Omega Directive," pre "Unforgettable")
Togetherness Chapter 1
"So the last of the supplies are on board and we're ready to leave once everyone's had shoreleave, Captain."
Smiling at Chakotay, Kathryn set her coffee cup on the coffee table in front of their seats on the Ready Room couch. "Oh, I don't think there's any rush. How many are there still to go on shoreleave?"
"Twenty-seven."
"That's quite a few."
"Things came up with the repairs so they haven't made it down to the planet yet."
She nodded. With Voyager in orbit around Dartin VIII, the past few days had been the ideal time for performing the maintenance and repairs. They had needed the time since the incident a few weeks ago with the Omega Particles and the fight with the aliens to destroy the particles. Having to try to explain to the aliens the reason why it was so necessary the particles be destroyed on top of a miserable week before that had left everyone was exhausted. She closed her eyes and posed the question she dreaded asking.
"What about Tom?"
Chakotay sighed and leaned farther back into his corner of the couch. "He hasn't gone on leave yet, no."
"Is he still..."
"Avoiding everyone by hiding in his quarters when he's not on duty? Yes."
"And on duty?"
"I think the rest of the crew have started to realize something's wrong. I've heard whispers. He's acting the same as always when anyone other than the Senior Staff are around-"
"-But the crew's beginning to sense it's acting." She leaned her head back into the cushions. "Oh, why didn't we just listen to B'Elanna and leave him be?"
"Because we thought by administering the parole test we were doing the right thing, Kathryn."
"Well, we were wrong. Instead of making things better we only made them worse. He's retreated even further into himself." She surged to her feet to commence pacing. "I can't believe we tried to justify doing something so cruel to him as a way of helping him. We let him think Voyager finally had made it home then more or less swooped in and said 'Fooled you!'"
"If it had worked the way we'd thought it would, Tom would have realized his value and his problems, whatever they are, would be in the open. We could have helped him confront them."
"Instead he enacts an elaborate computer programme that lets him take over Voyager, all Hell breaks loose, and now he won't talk to any of us beyond what's necessary."
"B'Elanna's a mess," he confided. "With every passing shift, Engineering descends further into Hell according to Joe Carey and Susan Nicoletti. Yesterday, they were deputized to come beg me of all people to do something to get the Tom and B'Elanna back together. They can't handle her mood swings anymore. It's too much stress for everyone, especially B'Elanna. When I said we already were trying, Nicoletti said whatever we were doing wasn't enough and she was going to Harry to see what he could do."
"I'm not surprised B'Elanna's upset. Tom finally tells her he loves her and then she finds out he won't be going with her when she leaves Voyager." She flopped down next to Chakotay. "What a mess."
He clasped one of her hands in his and squeezed. "We meant well."
"But we didn't *do* well. We hurt Tom in a horribly cruel way."
At the tears forming in her eyes, he threw protocol out the nearest airlock and gently wrapped her in his arms. After a second's hesitation, she laid an arm across his waist and pillowed her head on his well-muscled shoulder. "How could I have been so stupid?"
"You weren't stupid, Kathryn," he assured. "You were trying to help him. We all were."
"But I know him. Not as well as B'Elanna or Harry certainly, but I know him. How could I have done something like this?"
"You weren't alone in this. We *all* were apart of it and we *all* screwed up royally."
"But *I* gave the okay when Tuvok suggest it as a course of action. *I* had the final say and *I* said yes. I should have known Tom would be hurt by it, regardless of the outcome of the test."
"It never occurred to any of us he might do something as drastic as take-over the ship and offer the Maquis their freedom before Voyager made it to a Starbase. No one, not even Harry or B'Elanna, saw that one coming."
"I should have sat him down and demanded to know what was going in his head."
"This is Tom Paris we're talking about here. You know the direct approach won't work with him where personal things are concerned. We had to ambush him."
"Oh, we ambushed him all right. And he ambushed us."
Caressing the back of her head, he nodded.
"Any bright ideas for fixing our last bright idea?"
"Me trying to counsel him is not doing any good. It's only because you all but ordered him to that he shows up for our scheduled sessions. When he's there, all he does is sit there. Never says anything. Never moves. Sometimes I wonder if he is asleep. The last time I tossed a piece of fruit at him to see if he was and he caught it in mid-air before it could hit him. I've never seen reflexes that quick." His look of awe slowly faded and he shook his head. "Frankly, even my patience is wearing thin. We have to try something else. This waiting him out isn't working."
"I keep hoping he'll forgive us and he could work through his problems on his own. Maybe then things could go back to the way they were before the hiding out on the Holodeck, and ducking Sickbay and B'Elanna. Before the silences," she sighed.
"It's a long way home, Kathryn. He can't stay mad at us forever.""I don't know. This *is* Tom Paris. When he's hurt, it's deeply. He just hides it. And *we* did the hurting this time, Chakotay. He might never forgive us."
Chakotay sighed and lowered his cheek to her hair.
Tom Paris stared down at the holographic blood and the laser scalpel in his hand, not seeing any of it for what it was. He no longer was on Voyager, no longer in that time. Instead, he was on a small moon on the edge of Cardassian territory, years earlier, when the blood was real and the scalpel was the thin stiletto he favoured.
"Carnage" was the only word that could be used to accurately describe the scene around him. In the small meeting room/office, there were five corpses - *Cardassian* corpses.
'He had done this,' he concluded, feeling oddly detached from it all. 'He had to have done this. The bloodstained hands were attached to his arms. The blood-soaked clothes were on his body. The blood encrusted knife was in his grasp.'
Flat blue eyes slowly moved around the room again. Two soldiers lay on either side of the door, both still bleeding profusely from neatly slit throats. A clerk, in his early twenties like Tom, was sprawled across his desktop, a growing wet spot darkening his uniform tunic.
Tom's gaze stopped at the small table in the centre of the room and its two occupants. Both were bound to their chairs and facing one another. The elder of the two - what was left of him - was slumped in the chair... and lying on the table and... Tom looked more closely at the two maroon masses in the younger male's lap then at the gaping hole in each male's chest. 'Oh,' he thought casually, 'I hope they were dead when I did that.'
But part of Tom knew the Cardassians had not been lifeless when he had cut their hearts out.
'Why would I do this?' he wondered. 'Why would I kill all of these people?'
Like an automaton, he walked to the door and stopped in the doorway. Looking out into the hallway, he discovered at least seven more bodies. Were there more behind the closed doors lining the corridor? Somehow he knew the answer was "yes."
He returned to the table. All of the others appeared to be simple, quick kills. What was the story with these two mutilated wretches? Why were they given such special treatment? This looked like he had deliberately and methodically tortured the elder. Done before or after the younger had died? That he wondered about. Had he tortured the elder while the younger watched? He thought so, but why? This looked so like revenge. Yes, it was revenge for something, something horrible they had done to him. No. Not to him personally. To whom?
A voice like death itself echoed in his ears.
It was pure hatred.
It was his own.
"I am Thomas Eugene Paris. The son of Starfleet Admiral Owen Paris."
"Never heard of him," the younger of the two Cardassians spit out, trying to break-free from his bonds.
"Sorry. Wrong answer."
The elder screamed as Tom relieved him of one of his fingers.
The younger Cardassian launched into a spate of Cardassian profanity.
Setting the finger on the table, Tom Paris dispassionately regarded the speaker then continued, this time in Cardassian. "It has been a few years, Gul Camet. Perhaps you may be excused for forgetting about the capture of the Admiral and one of his ensigns." He leaned closer. "But you will not forget his name again. Not for as long as you live."
The Cardassian glared.
The human straightened. "You see," he said, "because of you, I lost my father. You did not kill him, not physically, but he never was the same after you captured him. He became even harder than he was before, more withdrawn. It broke the hearts of my mother and sisters. And it broke mine. I adored my father, even though he was hard and demanding. It felt like someone had ripped out my heart along with his the first time I saw him in an unguarded moment." He walked behind the elder male. "There in his study sat the great Admiral Owen Paris, slumped in his desk chair looking like a withered, old man long before his time. He had lost his heart. All because of what you did to him."
Another slew of off colour language.
This time the elder lost one of his ears. Tom tossed it onto the table with the finger.
"Shouldn't have to hear that sort of language anyway," Tom remarked off-handedly.
The victim screamed and shook.
Tom laid a hand on a trembling shoulder and resumed the conversation where he had left off. "I did not know what had happened to him, none of the family did, until *I* found out by accident six weeks ago. I saw a file I never was supposed to see. Right there in innocent little print was the explanation for everything. It was then that I set out to find you and make you pay for what you did to my father." He squeezed the shoulder under his hand. "By capturing and torturing *your* father."
A black look was sent his way.
"When I started to try to find him and you, I automatically thought, like everyone else it seems, that your mother's mate was your biological father. Since it's common knowledge you two hate each other, you probably wouldn't have minded anything I did to him. I found that unfortunate. Luckily, it's also common knowledge that you have a distinct fondness for the dear Legate Meer, here." He patted the shoulder. "Treats you like a son, they say. So I thought why not do him then? More of an impact than doing your actual father. Imagine my surprise when I found out the reason he's treated you so well is because you *are* his son. I was rather pleased to discover that. It makes this so much more fulfilling."
The stiletto flashed as he raised it once again.
"What you did to my father destroyed the man we loved, Camet," Tom told him, switching back to Earth Standard. "Now it's Meer's turn."
Blood spurted everywhere. Meer's body writhed in its chair. His scream abruptly died though the body continued to twitch.
Tom set the still quivering heart in Gul Camet's lap and forced the Cardassian to look at it then back at him. The look Meer's murderer exchanged with Owen's former captor equalled each other in hatred.
"I like the symbolism, don't you? Because of you, my father lost his heart. He became a shell of a man. Now I've returned that favour."
Camet looked as though he wanted to say something yet seemed to forget it at the sight of the new look entering Tom's eyes.
There is one thing nearly every sentient species in the Galaxy has in common - each knows Death when they look it in the face.
Looking at Tom Paris, Camet knew it now.
"What is my father's name?" Tom whispered.
"Admiral Owen Paris," the Cardassian choked.
"You ripped my heart out, Camet. Now I'm going to rip out yours."
The echoes of Camet's screams and the memory of the feel of the thick, warm blood drenching both of them had Tom so consumed he almost did not hear transporter beam and the gasps of horror behind him. Calmly, he turned and looked at the three heavily armed humanoids clothed all in midnight blue.
"My gods, Sunbird, what have you done," one of the hooded soldiers Paris frowned a little then turned back to the scene he had been attempting to figure out.
He started as a hand clapped onto his shoulder.
"Congratulations, Mr. Paris, your patient is dead."
Suddenly back on Voyager in the here and now, Tom whirled on the Doctor in a defensive crouch, brandishing the scalpel like a stick knife. Naturally unconcerned for his own safety, the hologram calmly stared into the stone cold eyes, unflinching. It took a few seconds until Tom's mind knew where it was and his body slowly relaxed.
"I'm sorry, Doc," he murmured in a voice devoid of all emotion.
Frowning, the Doctor watched his student turn back towards the now deceased holographic patient on the biobed. The EMH reached over to a console and shut off the patient.
"That's enough for today."
"I haven't finished the arterial reconstruction exercise."
"Yes, I think you have." He removed the scalpel from Tom's hand. "You're in no state to properly concentrate on the exercise. When was the last time you had a proper break? You haven't taken shoreleave yet, have you?"
Silence.
"Well then, until you do, I don't want to see you back in here. You've been in here enough in the past two weeks to more than make up for the time you spent hidden away on the Holodeck working on your plan to free the Maquis."
The EMH saw the brief stiffening of Tom's posture. It happened every time he mentioned the parole test of two weeks ago or he disturbed Tom's thoughts. Obviously those thoughts were of the disastrous results of said test.
The hologram could not stop thinking about it either. In spite of reassurances from the Captain about his fate, the seed planted in his head by Tom's words during the simulation refused to whither and die. Instead it flourished. There were times he thought he would fry his relays he was thinking so hard about his future.
What he needed was for Tom to talk to him about more than medicine again. Since the parole test, he, Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok had reviewed Tom's research into the legal argument for he and his family being declared alive. If Tom would talk to them again then perhaps together they might find something all of them had missed, some angle left unexplored. As it was, the chances of mounting a successful defence with what little they had was about sixty-forty against. Not good odds when one's very existence was on the line.
He knew from working with Tom that the pilot was far more intelligent than he let on. Plus he had experience with the legal system. Bad experience granted, but experience all the same. On their own, the four of them were getting nowhere and the Doctor was becoming desperate. In all his searching of Voyager's database, he could find only one precedent which even came close to a hologram being given the rights similar to that of a sentient being. Maybe, if he took over Voyager like the holocharacter named Moriarty did the Enterprise, Starfleet might bargain with him as Jean-Luc Picard had done with Moriarty.
He shoved that idea away. Enough people, present company included, had taken over Voyager without him adding his name to the list. The judge would be forced to make new law that was all. It was obvious he was sentient.
Still, the nagging worry about his future would not go away and now certainly was not the time to attempt to broach the subject. From the sallow skin and taut nerves, it was evident Tom was exhausted. He needed rest and diversion and coincidentally they were in orbit of a planet that offered both in spades.
"As Chief Medical Officer of this ship I am ordering you to report to the transporter room for shoreleave within one hour, Lieutenant."
"I have Bridge duty at-"
"I will tell the Commander to find someone to fill in for you. There's nothing too challenging about maintaining orbit. I'm sure there must be someone on your staff who's competent enough to handle that task."
That got his attention. Tom's jaw clenched, as his companion knew it would. One of Tom's main sources of pride always had been his expertly trained Conn staff, especially since he was said expert. To insult their abilities was to insult him and his abilities and no one insulted the flying abilities of Tom "The Best Damned Pilot in the Delta Quadrant" Paris. He could not offer a logical argument for disobeying the CMO without admitting he had failed to adequately train his pilots. And never would he admit that.
"Dartin VIII has a lot to offer recreationally. The beaches are supposed to be quite nice. I can tell you from my own trip down there yesterday that the capital is breathtaking. A lot of the crew have been visiting the museums there. They are fascinating."Nothing.
He grimaced. He knew full well that if Tom Paris took him up on his next suggestion the odds were he would be seeing a lot of him in the near future and not as his assistant but as his patient. "There are some bars down there that you might like."
Still nothing.
"Whatever you decide to do, go do something," the Doc demanded impatiently. "You've been limiting yourself to your shift on the Bridge - or 'shifts' all too frequently - then shifts down here. As nice as it is to see you interested in your studies for a change, I'm getting sick of seeing your face. You need to have some fun." He smiled his best smile and attempted to make a joke. "I never thought I'd have to tell Tom Paris that."
The joke fell flat due to audience non-participation.
He sobered. "Yes, well, until you have had shoreleave you're to consider yourself banned from Sickbay. I'll inform Commander Chakotay of the need to cover your shift on the Bridge."
Still saying nothing, Tom turned on his heel and exited Sickbay.
Sighing, the EMH started for his office to talk to the Commander and report to the Captain on his lack of progress in drawing Tom back out of his shell. The entrance of a crewman cradling his bloodied hand forestalled him."So, where have you been sticking your hand that you should not have been?"
She stopped dead and very nearly turned around in defeat. 'This latest flash of memory proved this could not be him,' she declared. 'Didn't it? Of course it did. They had said he was good and kind and gentle and sweet. This one was cruel and vicious and sadistic and horrible. He couldn't be the one, he just couldn't.'
'So it was decided,' she thought. 'It could not be him so I'll go back to my people and...'
The thought of returning to her people with bad news yet again delayed her.
'Perhaps there was an explanation. Perhaps he *was* the right man yet she had seen an instance in which he was pushed too far? Maybe his actions were justified somehow?'
The desperation for their search to be over held her where she was. She would go no closer until she was sure. Until then, she would watch and wait.
Far off in a corner of the Universe, a certain young Q stopped reversing the law of gravity on an unfortunate planet.
Chubby little face screwed up in puzzlement, he looked first towards a small starship orbiting a planet far distant from his position then to another point many planes away.
Abandoning his mischief, he wandered away.
His bickering parents never even noticed his absence.
Tom ignored every greeting tossed his way as he made a beeline for his quarters. He was not slighting them intentionally. He simply did not register they were there. His senses were filled with the memories of his heinous crime. The only sounds he heard were from the chorus of victims screaming in his mind.
He entered his quarters and resisted the urge to go straight to his safe-spot in the corner of his sleeping area. So often over the past few months he had passed a restless, Camet-taunt-filled night in the foetal position in this corner. Right now he wanted to curl himself up into as small a ball as possible and clap his hands over his ears to block out the noise in his head.
But he knew there were two reasons why he could not do it. One, he knew it was futile to try to block out the screams, cries, and his own hate-filled words from so long ago. The harder he tried to block the memories the more insistent they became to be given audience. And two, if he did not get off of Voyager and down to the planet right away for shoreleave, he could be assured of Chakotay showing up on his doorstep wanting to have another of their "sessions." Given his current lowered defences, he might just blurt out something and then he really would be in trouble. Sitting down at his desk, he called up the information on the planet and began looking for something to do.
The chirp and call from the combadge so close to her cheek reminded Kathryn of her position before she could fall completely asleep. Blinking owlishly, she lifted her head to look at the softly smiling man holding her. Returning the smile, she pushed herself upright and reluctantly reassumed her Captain's façade.
"Go ahead, Doctor," Chakotay invited.
"Commander, I'm notifying you that sixteen minutes ago I ordered Mr. Paris to take immediate shoreleave."
"What happened?"
As the EMH outlined the "death" of Tom's "patient" and the resultant one-sided conversation, the Ready Room door chimed. Keeping on ear on the conversation, Kathryn rose and descended to the main level of the room.
"Come," she invited.
Her Security Chief entered and remained silent at seeing the finger raised to her lips. They both listened as Chakotay thanked the Doctor for informing him of his actions then ended the conversation telling him he would tell the Captain.
"Coincidentally, Captain, that is why I am here," the Vulcan told her as Chakotay joined them at the desk. "Mr. Paris has requisitioned equipment suitable for mountain climbing and filed a transport order for a site in a mountain range on the largest continent."
"I don't want him going climbing alone," Kathryn insisted. "Especially, not in his state of mind. Anything could go wrong under the ideal circumstances, but with him in his current state of mind..." She shook her head.
"I assumed that would be your response, Captain."
"If he leaves Voyager it'll be difficult to follow him," Chakotay predicted. "Here the internal sensors can keep track of him and his activities. Down there-"
"Someone will have to watch him," Kathryn nodded.
Tuvok agreed. "With his chosen activity, that could be difficult, Captain. In a crowd it is relatively easy to conceal surveillance. On a mountain top, it is near impossible."
"Then it can't be covert surveillance."
"Tommy!"
Naomi Wildman launched herself off of the transporter platform and at her favourite playmate with the innate confidence of a child who knew she would be caught. Tom Paris did not disappoint. He easily caught her in mid-air as her mother, Sam, and godfather, Neelix, descended the steps in the more conventional manner with their overnight cases.
As the two performed their usual routine of kisses, hugs, and petnames, Sam's sharp eyes darted from Neelix to the man at whom the Talaxian was looking awkwardly. She did not know Lieutenant Paris nearly as well as her daughter did. Mostly she only saw him when their duty shifts crossed paths or when he came to collect Naomi for or drop off Naomi from one of their play-dates. Neelix, however, she did know very well. This strange combination of ill-ease, eagerness, and - what? It almost looked like guilt. That was hard for her to reconcile with the Neelix she knew.
"Are you going down to the planet, Tommy?"
"Yes, Cucumber."
"You should have come with us yesterday. We had so much fun."
"Yes, Tom," Neelix quickly interjected, "you would have enjoyed it."
Sam's gaze slid back to the pilot in time to see the smile on his face change as he glanced at the cook/morale officer. He still was smiling, that much was true, except now the smile failed to reach his eyes as it did when he was talking with her daughter. The icy blue depths were bereft of all emotion.
"Yeah," Naomi chattered. "Yesterday we went to a park and they had toys to play with and a lake to swim in and these funny hairy, orangey brown animals that were sorta tame and everyone fed them special food. And we stayed overnight in rooms that had these funny shaped beds and-"
Tom turned his gaze back to the little girl and smiled a genuine smile. "You did have a fun day, huh?" he interrupted when she was forced to take a breath.
She pouted a little. "Not as much fun as it would be if you were there though, Tommy." Twisting in his arms, she looked pleadingly at her mother. "Can I go back down with Tommy, Mommy?"Sam sputtered a little. "Naomi, you only just got back here."
"Please, Mommy?"
Ensign Wildman gestured to Tom's grey climbing jumpsuit and the backpack at his feet. "Honey, Lieutenant Paris is going climbing by the looks of it. You're too young for that. It's not a safe activity for you. Besides, you spent all yesterday and part of this morning down there."
"But I want to show Tommy the park."
"You have to listen to your mother, Naomi," Tom reminded her softly.
As always, his use of her proper name got her attention. "Yes, Tommy," she dutifully responded as he set her on her feet.
"Maybe you can draw a picture of the park for him," Sam suggested.
"But it's not -" A look from Tom silenced the objection. "Okay," she pouted.
As Sam herded her daughter towards the exit, Neelix tentatively reached a hand out to touch Tom's arm. Pretending he did not see the gesture, Tom bent to retrieve his pack from the floor and shrugged into it. Sadly, Neelix lowered the hand and walked towards the exit, eyes down.
"Pardon me," he muttered as he collided with someone in the corridor. His eyes travelled up the tight grey clothing, over the gold stripe horizontally across the chest and upper arms, and to Tuvok's brown eyes. It took only a split second for the Talaxian to realize the purpose for the Vulcan's attire. "Good luck, Mr. Vulcan," he bade him and hurried away.
Repositioning his pack, Tuvok entered the transporter room in time to hear Tom asking why he had to wait before beaming down.
"You have the co-ordinates, Ensign?" Tuvok asked.
The young woman nodded to the Lieutenant Commander. Her confusion was clear on her face. Here were two people, who, according to the transport order, both were going to the same place, clearly for the same purpose, yet only one of them knew the other was coming? Very strange.
Their next words explained everything for her.
"The itinerary you filed for your shoreleave indicates your intention to go rock climbing, Lieutenant."
Taking in Tuvok's mode of dress, Tom resisted the urge to glare insubordinately at the senior officer. "I take it you're planning on inviting yourself along?" he said in a monotone.
Tuvok mounted the stairs to the pad. "Starfleet regulations prohibit such dangerous activities being undertaken in a solitary fashion. As I wish to improve my climbing skills and you claim to be the best climber on the ship, it is logical that I accompany you." He addressed the Ensign. "Energize."
After the two officers had disappeared, the ensign smiled to herself. 'Well, what do you make of that?' she asked herself. The ship's grapevine had it that the Senior Staff recently had done something that had Tom Paris ticked off at them. No one knew what the "something" was, but it was clear there was something wrong. Practically everyone on board was watching the signs of tension between the Senior Officers and trying to puzzle out the explanation.
Of course it did not take a genius to notice Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres were on the outs again as well. Not once in the past two weeks had the pair been seen together off duty. The poor Engineering Staff were tiptoeing around her and treating her like the volatile landmine that she was. Every one of them had been overjoyed at the announcement they had reached a planet suitable for shoreleave. Whether each hoped it would provide them with an opportunity of a few hours out from under the Chief's harsh gaze or perhaps provide Tom and B'Elanna a chance to make up, depended upon the person you asked.
She personally had hoped for both. She herself had enjoyed Leave two days ago, but the lover's reconciliation looked in doubt.
Well, she conceded, at least now, they were both on the planet. Two hours ago B'Elanna Torres had beamed down to the planet with Harry Kim. Now Tom Paris had left the ship with Tuvok of all people. There were a few people she could see helping Kim engineer a truce between those two lovebirds - the entire Engineering department for one - but Tuvok's name was not once which came to mind.
She could hardly wait until her lunch break so she could discuss this latest development with the others in the Mess Hall.
"So, Lieutenant, which climb were you planning on attempting?"
Tom stared at his uninvited guest with deliberately ill-concealed anger. "Why are you here, Tuvok?"
"I told you-"
"Yeah, regs et cetera. What's the real reason? I don't believe that line about wanting to improve your climbing skills."
"Are you suggesting I am lying as to my purpose for being here?"
"The Captain sent you. Why?"
"Mr. Paris, I remind you that I am a Vulcan. Vulcans do not lie."
"No, but they can justify half truths at times."
"And you believe this is what I am doing at this time?"
"Yes."
"And upon what proof do you base this assertion."
"My gut instinct."
"Your *gut instinct* cannot be considered proof, Lieutenant."
"No, but it often is correct. So tell me, why did the Captain send you?"
"No one *sent* me, Lieutenant. I came of my own accord. Now, are we going to climb?"
Tom continued to stare for a moment then inclined his head once. "Whatever."
"Good. Which mountain?"
Tom's mind reluctantly switched gears. Blue eyes scanned the two choices - one small mountain to the Northwest and one to the Southeast. Both were near equally good climbs. The Northwest one was slightly more dangerous towards the top because of an overhang. Naturally this had been the one Tom had planned to attempt.
Tuvok appeared to have guessed this as well going by his quirked brow at Tom indicating the Southeast mountain. He made no comment. He followed Tom on the quarter kilometre hike to the base.
"Tuvok? You okay?"
Tom glanced down at his fellow climber. The Vulcan was two metres below and to the left of his position and appeared to be having some trouble.
"I have something in my right eye, Lieutenant."
The pilot hardly was surprised. The rock of the mountain was great for climbing but hurt like Hell when a speck of it got in one's eye. He knew his own eyes had to be reddened and blood shot from numerous such invaders who somehow had made it behind his own protective eyewear.
"There's a plateau three metres above me. I'll climb up then guide you up. Stay put."
Twenty long minutes later Tom was helping his temporarily half-blinded climbing partner onto the deep ledge beside him.
"It still in there?"
"I believe so."
"Sit down over there," Tom instructed, unhooking Tuvok's harness from the ropes, "and I'll get out my medkit."
"You came prepared," Tuvok remarked walking away to do as ordered.
Tom did not answer. 'I am a field medic and the Doctor's assistant,' he thought. 'Naturally I would come prepared.'
"Remove your eye-"
He did not get a chance to finish the command. The section of plateau beneath Tuvok's feet suddenly caved inwards. Tom dove for the falling Vulcan, frantically trying to catch one of the flailing arms. He did not succeed. Down into the darkness, Tuvok tumbled out of sight along with huge chunks of rock as Tom hit the ground hard next to the hole.
An ominous creek sounded beneath the pilot. Seconds later he too fell into the abyss along with his foundation. The last thing he remembered before the blackness literally and metaphorically swallowed him was searing pains all over his body and B'Elanna's face before his eyes.
"All I am saying is you ought to think about it, B'Elanna."
The half-Klingon glared at Harry Kim. Everything had been fine until five minutes ago. When he had arrived at her quarters earlier that morning, her friend had laid on the guilt trip about how he wanted to go on shoreleave but did not want to go alone. Then Chakotay had appeared just as she was trying to convince Harry she had too much to do to go traipsing off with him. The Commander had informed her it was her turn to go on shoreleave and she was going or else. She had not liked it, but she had gone.
'And it hadn't been so bad,' she begrudged as they walked through a small park. 'She always had fun with Harry. Nothing like the wild adventures she had with -' She shoved that idea out of her head the second it entered. 'Today she was going to concentrate on what she and Harry were doing and not on a certain infuriating pilot. Already they had fun exploring the market place and two of the museums everyone had been raving about and were on their way to the third and she only had thought of Tom Paris two times. As far as she was concerned, that was two times too many and vowed not to think about him for the remainder of the day.'
She was firm in her resolve until she saw the couple.
Like all Dartins, they were dressed in lightweight clothing of colours so bright Neelix felt right at home amongst them. It was their colouring and their actions that broke the cheerful mood Harry's gentle prodding had fostered in B'Elanna. The male was very tall and pale in colouring. The female was shorter and darker. There was no doubt they were in love.
B'Elanna had seen them coming towards them, hand in hand, laughing and smiling at one another. There was no one else in the entire Universe for the couple.
The male said something that made them both laugh.
The female slipped around in front of him and they both stopped. Smiling up into his face, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He smiled down at his much shorter mate and permitted her to pull his head half way down to hers before he resisted. Arms sliding around her back, he whispered something to her as he drew her to his long frame.
She pretended to be taken aback by his comment.
Grinning lasciviously, he lowered his head the rest of the way towards hers.
They were still passionately kissing one another when Harry and B'Elanna passed. The young ensign had seen the look on her face and threaded an arm through hers to pull her along with him. He too had thought how much like B'Elanna and Tom the couple were.
It was less than a minute later that he had begun prodding her to think about talking to Tom. 'He just doesn't understand,' she told herself. 'Can't understand. Harry Kim's... Harry Kim. A good man who grew up with the unwavering knowledge that he loved and was loved. He has no idea what it was like to stick his neck out and have his head nearly chopped off. He has no idea what I'm going through with Tom.'
'No,' she corrected, 'there was no "with Tom" anymore. He made that clear when he made his choice not to come with you and the others in the simulation. He chose himself over your relationship. There was no way you ever can forgive him for that.'
"Please, B'Elanna," Harry begged. "He's miserable. You're miserable-"
"I am not miserable," she tried to deny.
Harry's look as he held open the door to the next museum for her told her he did not believe that for a second.
"Well, it'll pass," she growled under her breath and turned her attention to the tour guide who was collecting people for the next tour.
The increased irritation of dust in his eyes was the only way Tom knew he actually had his eyes open. Everything was pitch black around him. Carefully he tilted his head up towards the swaying sunlight far above him.
'Swaying?' he thought. 'Why was the sunlight swaying?'
It was then that he realized it was he who was doing the swaying, not the sunlight. He was dangling in mid-air from his safety line. The moment he had reached the plateau his first action was to shorten his line. If he took a tumble off of the plateau while he was reaching over the edge to help Tuvok up he would fall only four metres, no closer to the ground a good five hundred metres below. That automatic action had saved his life though maybe not Tuvok's.
Tom gently grabbed hold of the line with his right hand. His entire left arm refused to respond to his command. That he would worry about later, right now he had to find Tuvok and assess his condition. With shear determination, he drew himself parallel with the line, head up. Resting his aching head against the line, he looked downwards and saw nothing other than the darkness and spots before his eyes from the sunlight. Somewhere down there was an injured man and he had to find him.
"Tuvok?" a voice barely recognizable as his own called. He cleared his grit-roughened throat and tried again. "Tuvok?"
There was a soft groan from below him somewhere.
"Hang on, Tuvok. I'll get help."
With his left arm useless, Tom used the pressure of his leaning his body forward against the line to hold himself upright. His hand flew from the line to his combadge and back again so quickly the line barely swayed.
The combadge failed to chirp.
He tried it again. And again. When he cut his fingers on the fourth try, he found out why there was no response. All that remained of the combadge was three loosely united pieces still attached to his outfit. There would be no help for the time being. When they failed to return by 1900 as expected, Voyager would start to wonder where they were and start trying to contact them. By his reckoning they still had about seven or so hours left to go before then. If they were going to survive it was up to him.
First he would need his light from his pack. Hopefully its beam would be strong enough to penetrate the darkness and he could find Tuvok. Using the same technique he had used for touching his combadge, he made an attempt to open his pack. It took five tries until he finally had the light. Tucking it under his chin, he was able to slide his wrist into the straps then use his mouth to tighten the fastenings and activate the light.
They were in a cavern. Huge stalactites and stalagmites shimmered eerily in the light from the wrist lamp. About five metres below him lay the injured Vulcan. His limbs were at awkward angles. Green blood was visible through the fine dusting of grit and fragments from the rock cavern roof and mineral "icicles" shattered by the rocks with which Tuvok had fallen. At the very least he was looking at broken arms and legs, internal bleeding, massive bruising, and a concussion. At the worst, a broken back and severed spinal cord. At least the groan told Tom the Vulcan still was alive.
Tom evaluated his situation. How was he going to lower himself down to his patient? With two good hands it would be a simple matter of releasing the safety and lowering himself by slowly playing out the line. With one hand it was more difficult. Difficult, but not impossible.
He dove into the pack for one of he climbing gloves he had discarded an hour after the climb began. Wriggling into it, he tugged it into place with his teeth.
For the first time since he had Awoken all those weeks ago, he was thankful for being an AlphaOmegan. The Implant he so despised took his fear-produced adrenaline and focused it for him. Whereas others would be panicking or surrendering to the pain from their injuries, he was perfectly calm. It summoned for him what strength he had left in his aching body and channelled it along with the adrenaline. He grabbed a hold of the rope as he brought his right foot up to toe off the safety.
Immediately, gravity tried to pull him downwards. His grip tightened. It only controlled his descent to a degree. After a minute, the rope finally cut through the supposedly indestructible climbing glove. He ignored the severing of muscles and tendons in his palm as he travelled rapidly downwards to the Security Chief.
The instant his boots touched the uneven floor, he collapsed, mere millimetres away from landing on the unconscious Vulcan. Clearly Tuvok was not the only one with a broken limb or two.
'Useless limbs or not, he *could* work like this,' he told himself. Images of his condition after his assault on Uucuu Prison came to mind, unbidden. While the Mission had been a success, Tom had escaped from there with a collapsed lung, five broken ribs, a major concussion, flesh cut away to the bone in seven places, and half-drowned. He had completed it, in that far worse condition, and he certainly could complete this self-appointed one now, in this himself up in a sitting position, he slipped off his wrist lamp and set it on a broken stalagmite. He angled it down so it illuminated as much of Tuvok and the area as possible. Mindful of his own so far unestablished injuries, he slid off the pack. Thankfully his medkit had survived his fall unharmed.
A quick scan with the tricorder confirmed what Tom's visual inspection had led him to suspect. He had been correct. Broken arms, legs, ribs, extensive internal bleeding... It did not take someone with Tom's limited "advanced medical training" to know the prognosis was not good. Tuvok needed to get to Sickbay and get there fast or he was going to die.
There was a moan from the patient.
"Tuvok? Can you hear me?"
The brown eyes opened a crack. "Wha...?"
"The plateau collapsed," Tom explained. "There was a cavern inside. We're now in it."
"Hurt..."
Tom knew what the Vulcan was asking. "You're hurt bad. We need to get you back to Voyager immediately but my combadge is busted and yours doesn't look much better."
"Die..."
He opened his mouth to deny it then closed it again. This was Tuvok he was talking to, a Vulcan. Reassuring platitudes had no place here, especially not now. "If we don't get you back to Voyager A.S.A.P, yes."
"Katra..."
Tom frowned. "I don't understand."
"Katra... My katra... I must... pass on my... soul... essence..."
Something came back to Tom. Years ago, at the urging of his childhood doctor, Dr. Brown, he had read a biography of Dr. Leonard McCoy. Something about McCoy and Spock and Vulcans and souls... It came to him. A dying Vulcan would mindmeld with another to pass along his consciousness. It would then be taken to Vulcan to join with the others so what that person had been and learned would not be lost for all time. That was what Tuvok was trying to say. He needed to pass on his "soul."
"But if you pass it along, won't your body die for sure? What if Voyager *does* find us in what would have been time to save you but your body's already dead?"
"Body will... live for a while... Need to... take that chance..."
As the Vulcan's face spasmed with pain, the pilot understood his meaning. Tuvok could not take the chance of dying without passing on his katra.
"I'll do it," Tom offered, ignoring the immediate objection a part of his brain tried to voice.
Brown eyes met blue and the axiom "beggars can't be choosers" seemed to pass from one to another.
"Can't... move arms..."
"Broken." Gently, Tom lifted the left hand with his right and fanned the fingers along his cheek and beside his nose.
Tuvok's face contorted in pain once more. After a moment, he appeared to force the pain away long enough to perform whatever mental task was necessary.
Tom's mind filled with sharp pain bright lights then he slumped backward unconscious.
"Kathryn, I'm getting worried."
Kathryn looked up from her novel and into Chakotay's eyes. She had been quietly reading in her Ready Room for over two hours according to the chrono on her desktop computer. His entering, unannounced, into her private bastion of sanity was the first interruption in all that time.
"What is it, Chakotay?"
"Tom and Tuvok. They haven't returned and there's a storm entering their area. There was a bunch of our people at a resort not too far from there. They returned to the ship when the locals warned of the bad weather approaching. We've been monitoring it. The locals are right. It will be severe. Lots of rain, lightning and high winds."
"Have you tried raising Tom and Tuvok on their combadges?"
"We can't get through."
"Because of the storm?"
"We don't know. Maybe, maybe not. The storm is playing havoc with our sensor scans of the area. We can't cut through the interference well enough to get a lock on them to use the transporters." He paused. "Well, not and have a more than sixty-two percent chance of them surviving the transport."
"Is it still safe enough to take a shuttle down there?"
"I think so. Carey and Vorik are modifying the shields as we speak to improve their handling of the electrical discharges. Some of them are off the scale."
"As soon as they're done, go down there. Tom and Tuvok will have the sense to get into shelter when they see the weather changing. I'm sure they'll be fine but still I'd feel better with them up here."
"Agreed. Since there might be some climbing involved if they *are* in trouble, I'm going to take Neelix with me. He's getting climbing gear together as we speak."
"To be on the safe side, you'd better take someone with medical training."
"There's too much electrical activity to risk the Doctor. I'll see who he can send in his place."
"Bring them back safely, Chakotay."
He nodded and left.
"How are you doing back there, Aidar?" Chakotay called from the pilot's seat of the shuttle.
In the back of the shuttle, the middle-aged crewwoman clutched her head with one hand and the seat restraints with the other. It had been her misfortune to be in Sickbay at the time Chakotay had asked the Doctor to send someone with medical training to the Shuttle Bay for an Away mission. Had she known the conditions they were to fly through, she would have asked for a motion sickness shot.
"Okay, sir," she answered, voice wobbly. "How much farther?"
The uneven voice worried Chakotay. He knew a bit about Crewwoman Aidar. She was a brilliant geophysicist who was rather clueless when it came to anything outside of her chosen field. She had made it through the Academy with the highest honours in geophysics while barely scraping by in other areas. Her file said she seemed to retain the information about subjects other than geophysics only long enough to pass her exams then promptly purged them from her mind to make way for new things. That had been the reason for assigning her to cross training. He and the Captain had hoped that by having her learn about the inner-workings of the other departments on the ship they would be able to reverse this quirk of hers. With the almost fear and uncertainty he was hearing now, it did not seem to be succeeding.
As he was about to question her readiness for this mission, another lightning bolt struck the shields. 'This planet really needs weather control satellites,' he thought. He remembered his time at the Academy on Earth. The weather stations had permitted it to rain when needed and where needed. Everything was nice, neat, and orderly. No unscheduled storms. No mass destruction. Never had he seen anything as fierce as this there or even on his home colony which did not have controlled weather systems as Earth did.
"Anything, Neelix?"
The Talaxian in the co-pilot's seat hunched closer to his instruments as if the closer his proximity the greater the chance of seeing the results he wanted. "No sign of them yet, Comman- There!"
"Give me the co-ordinates."
As Chakotay fed the co-ordinates into the helm, his heart gave a little jump. "Neelix, are you sure about this? The topography charts say there's a mountain directly *above* those co-ordinates."
"A valley maybe?"
"It would be on the charts. Hang on, you two, I'm going to get closer for a look."
The eyes of the three rescuers could not believe what they were seeing as Chakotay stationed the shuttle over the hole in the plateau. With a spotlight shining down from the underside of the shuttle and into the blackness, they could see on their monitors two crumpled figures. For millennia the cavern had been cut of from the rest of the planet with only the moisture that seeped in to breech its barriers. Now these two men and the rain that was pelting them had trespassed once and for all.
"This is beyond me," Aidar moaned, shaking her head at the results from the scans she was running on them with the shuttle's sensors. "I haven't been trained for this! We have to get them back to Voyager right away. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is fading fast and I'm getting really strange readings from Lieutenant Paris."
"Do you think we can risk the transporters?" Neelix asked hurriedly. "If not, we could climb down and haul them up."
"The interference from the storm still is hampering the transporters. Unless..." Chakotay began to mutter to himself as he appraised the situation. After a few seconds, he nodded. "That should work." He looked at the others. "Neelix, get ready to beam them up. Aidar, break out the blankets. I'm going to drop the shields under the shuttle while extending the others to cap the hole. That should create a dome over the hole and block the interference so we'll be able to beam them up."
The other two nodded and readied themselves and their instruments and supplies.
"Okay, here we go."
As was par for the course where Tom Paris was concerned that day, the plan failed. The moment the shields touched the edges of the gaping hole, more debris broke loose from the edges and fell in. One particularly large stalactite impacted a scant metre from the men, pelting them with projectiles as it shattered. The shards rent Tom's back like a cat of nine tails. Fresh blood flowed from the wounds.
Blanching Chakotay scrambled for the controls to reverse his error. "Aidar?"
Rather pale herself, she tried to reassure him. "Looks worse than it is, Commander."
The Commander very much doubted that. "The transporters won't work without a complete seal to block out the storm. The edge of the hole is too fragile to touch, even with the shields. Neelix, go get the equipment ready and open the underside hatch. We'll have to climb down, put Tuvok and Tom in the litters, and hoist them up to the shuttle."
"Aye, Commander," the Talaxian agreed and rushed into the rear of the shuttle.
"Aidar, how much damage will we do to them by moving them bodily?"
She thought for a second. "They'll have to be immobilised before they are moved. Other than that, there's not a lot you can do to keep from injuring them further. Conversely, there's not a lot more you *can* do to them. But that's just a guess. I've only take a few classes with the Doctor and with Lieutenant Paris. If the Doctor had known this might have been the situation, he would have sent someone with more training, like Ensign Wildman. I'm only a geophysicist cross-training," she apologised.
"Just do your best, Aidar. You stay on board the shuttle and monitor things from here. We'll send them up to you one at a time. Once the first litter gets close enough to the shuttle retract the ropes, re-establish the underside shields, and beam them in, litter and all, then reverse the process, sending down the second litter. That will be easier on them than you hauling them all the way in and risking them colliding with the sides of the hatch. Once both of them are up here, Neelix and I will climb back up."
"Retract the ropes, sir?"
"So they aren't sliced in two if something goes wrong when you re-establish the underside shields," he explained. There are safeties to prevent that sort of mishap but I want to play it safe."
"Oh."
"Ready, Commander," Neelix announced.
Chakotay double-checked the shuttle controls before joining Neelix in the rear. As Chakotay donned his own climbing harness, the cook/morale officer lowered a litter down to a position on the cavern floor a couple of metres from the victims. With a reassuring nod to the nervous Aidar, the two men swung out of the hatch and slowly lowered themselves down their respective ropes.
There was an audible gasp from Neelix when their feet touched the uneven floor. His eyes were transfixed on his bloodied friends in their awkward positions.
"Come on, Neelix," Chakotay urged, "let's get to work."
"Yes, Commander."
Tom groaned as they gently shifted him onto the litter and strapped him down. By the time he reached the shuttle and materialized inside, he was babbling incoherently in some language unfamiliar to the geophysicist. Leaving him strapped down, she administered a sedative to calm him and cut out the underside shields and lowered the ropes with the second litter.
When Tuvok arrived for her care, she was pleased to see he did not need sedation to keep him silent. After securing him and repeating her task, she spent her time while waiting for Neelix and the Commander by scanning the two unconscious men. She looked blankly at the readouts on the tricorder. Some of them meant nothing to her. She understood the notes about the broken bones, bleeding, and bruised organs. The significance of the other abnormal readings escaped her.
"They secure, Aidar?" Chakotay asked, swinging himself up and into the shuttle before reaching a hand down to help Neelix back inside as well.
"Yes, Commander."
"Good, strap in you two."
Aidar covered the patients with the blankets to keep them warm then hurried back to her seat to strap back in for the return journey up through the stormy atmosphere.
"Report, Doctor," Janeway demanded as she entered into Sickbay at a dead run.
The EMH glared impatiently at her for a second before he returned his attention to Tuvok. "They just got here, Captain! I'm a doctor, not a clairvoyant. You have to give me a moment or two to actually diagnose them."
After being gently nudged out of the way by an apologetic Sam Wildman, Kathryn stepped back a bit further from the two occupied biobeds. She worriedly looked from one patient to the other. Both men looked like they had been dragged backwards behind a shuttle through an asteroid belt. While the rain had washed the majority of the blood, dust, and rock fragments from their injuries, they still looked a mess.
"Captain, I am going to have to ask you to vacate Sickbay," the Doctor insisted.
"But-"
"I am going to have to operate on Mr. Tuvok. He has massive internal injuries on top of numerous broken bones."
"And Tom?"
"Mr. Paris is better off than Mr. Tuvok, but still is in bad shape. I have him in stasis until I have finished with Mr. Tuvok and can address his problems."
He frowned heavily at the results of the scans Aidar had taken on the planet. She had sent them to the ship once the shuttle was in range to beam the patients to Sickbay. The scans of the brain functions simply made no sense. He rescanned the patients. The same odd readings. Tuvok's brain activity was minimal but not like those of someone who had sustained massive brain damage. Tom's, on the other hand, was hyperactive, like his brain was in overdrive. 'No,' he realized, 'not in overdrive. There were two distinct patterns.' He separated the two. 'Oh, my,' he thought. 'What-?'
"Doctor?!"
Sam's shout was competing with the alarm on Tuvok's life-support. Setting aside his tricorder, he began firing orders at his temporary assistant.
Sensing she was superfluous, Kathryn reluctantly backed out of Sickbay and nearly ran into Chakotay, Neelix, and Aidar. Given their laboured breathing, the three clearly had run all of the way from the shuttle bay. The two males she kept in the corridor with her while Aidar vanished inside. Even if the geophysicist could remember little of the medical knowledge she was supposed to be learning, she was another pair of hands for the Doctor and therefore not a total waste of space inside Sickbay.
"Captain, how are Tom and Mr. Vulcan?" Neelix asked, a little breathlessly.
"The Doctor has Tom in stasis for now and is going to operate on Tuvok," she answered in a hushed voice.
Chakotay touched her arm reassuringly. She was unable to return the sentiment. She was too worried.
"Lieutenant Torres and Mr. Kim," Neelix said, obviously trying to focus his mind on something other than the fear he felt for his injured friends. "Someone will have to tell them."
"Harry took B'Elanna down to the surface this morning," Chakotay informed them.
"I'll take care of finding them." The Talaxian hurried off down the corridor, leaving them to their vigil.
There was a tense silence. The Chief Engineer and Ops Officer sat mutely side by side under a shade tree in the park, the remnants of their picnic lunch between them. They had not exchanged a single syllable since exiting the museum almost half an hour ago. Upon their leaving the building at the end of the tour, her stomachs had growled so he had suggested they get a picnic lunch from the little café they had seen earlier. Her only response had been a grunt of agreement.
He wanted to talk to her. He knew she wanted to talk to him. Unfortunately the topic he wanted to discuss was the one she probably would kill to never discuss again.
Finally Harry decided he had had enough. He decided to risk life and limb and sort this mess out whether his two best friends liked it or not.
"You two are the most frustrating people I have ever met."
He felt, not saw, her stiffen. Deliberately trying to appear non-combative, he continued nonchalantly watching the children splashing in the small reflecting pool a couple dozen metres across the park from them. Though recently the need for him to perform the role had waned, he had a lot of experience acting as mediator for his two best friends. The pair of them were so stubborn. Sometimes it took someone else to trick, cajole, force, use whatever tactic he thought would work to get them talking again.
And he had to get them talking. He owed Sue Nicoletti a favour and his talking B'Elanna and Tom into a cease-fire was the only repayment she would accept. The Engineering staff had no idea what the problem between the couple was this time, but this treating the Chief with kid gloves was wearing them out. They did not care how he did it. Lock them in a room together. Temporarily strand them in the wilderness of this planet if necessary. Unless peace broke out immediately, the Engineering staff was going to take matters into their own hands. Harry did not know what they were going to do and they did not either, but they were the engineers of the U.S.S. Voyager. Necessity had taught them how to be a creative bunch. They would think of something. If worse came to worse and the well of creativity was dry, Sue had hinted they would fall back to Plan B - The Delaney twins.
That had Harry worried and a bit desperate. The Lts. Delaney were capable of anything. For the sake of the ship, he had to broker an armistice. He probably would get a broken nose or a severe tongue-lashing for his trouble, yet if it kept the Delaneys out of it, it was worth the physical or emotional pain.
"Tom loves you, B'Elanna, and you love him."
She made a sound something like a snort of disgust yet did not openly refute his words. That was a good sign... he hoped.
"You two need to hash this out, for your sake and everyone else's." He swallowed and mentally prepared for her explosion. "Your staff is running scared of you again, B'Elanna."
"What does that mean?!" she demanded in a dull roar.
Thankfully the shouts and squeals of a group of children on some playground equipment not far off covered most of her outburst so they did not attract much attention.
Harry's courage very nearly failed him at this point. He had never liked confrontations. He was not used to them and did not like fighting as Tom and B'Elanna did. He was not a coward. He merely preferred calm, rational discussion to noisy, verbal, and sometimes physical, brawls.
Then he remembered the Delaney threat and pressed on.
"You are taking your mood out on everyone around you, B'Elanna, except for the one person who may or may not deserve it. Tom."
"What do you mean, 'may or may not deserve it'? You know what he did to me."
Slowly, he turned to look at the woman next to him. "No, B'Elanna, tell me what he did to you. I want to know what you think he did."
"'Think he did'?" she spluttered. "You heard Tuvok's report. Tom was leaving me, or rather he was getting me to leave him. He was going to let me leave Voyager thinking he was going to rendezvous with us at his secret base. He expected Chakotay to tell me later that he wasn't going to keep his promise to me. He lied to me. He took the coward's way out and couldn't tell me to my face that he didn't want me now that Voyager had made it back to the Alpha Quadrant."
"You really ought to watch the record of his conversation with Chakotay, B'Elanna. It wasn't as cut and dried as all that."
"Of course it was. He thought we were back in the Alpha Quadrant and he didn't have to settle for the half-breed anymore."
"B'Elanna!"
She continued on as though he had not spoken. "There was a chance of getting rid of me with little fuss and he leapt at it. My choosing to leave Voyager with the others was a relief for him. He didn't have to come up with some excuse for why he was dumping me. He could just not show up."
"You don't believe that garbage any more than I do, B'Elanna Torres."
There was no response.
"I convinced Chakotay to let me see the recording, B'Elanna. I saw the look on Tom's face when he admitted to Chakotay that he was not going to meet you later. That was not relief. It was heartbreak. I honestly think he was telling the truth when he told Chakotay it would be too dangerous for you for him to come with you. I think Tom thinks there are people back home who want him dead so badly they won't stop until they get him. And maybe he's right. I don't know."
He could see from the look in her brown eyes she desperately wanted to believe him, but part of her could not permit herself to risk the possibility he was wrong.
"At least read the letter he gave Chakotay. Tuvok has it as part of the file. I don't think anyone other than Tuvok and maybe the Captain have read it, but they did keep it. Ask them to let you read what Tom said. If you still think you're right and he is the biggest jerk of all time, then fine, go have it out with him. Don't keep torturing your staff and yourself." He lifted a hand and cupped her shoulder. "But if you're wrong and he did mean every word he said, don't let him get away. You two worked too hard at getting this right. Don't sacrifice it because of what may be a misinterpretation of the facts."
B'Elanna was silent for a second then raised a hand. Harry barely concealed the fear she was going to hit him. He visibly relaxed as she laid her palm against his soft cheek and stroked it with her thumb.
"Why couldn't I have fallen for someone like you?" she murmured. "Someone who'd never put me through anything like this."
Harry smiled. "Someone about, oh, six months or so after you came on board actually asked if we were secretly involved, you know."
"What?" she laughed.
"Yeah. I forget who it was, but the two of us were working on some project together and this person thought since we always seemed to be seen with our heads together we must be carrying on some secret grand passionate affair."
She laughed again. "Like anyone can keep anything like that a secret for long on Voyager."
He grinned back.
"It would make sense though," she mused. "Shared interests. Tendency to think on the same wave length at times."
"Opposites in temperament though."
For once she did not contradict the implication she was anything less than as even tempered as he was. "Opposites do attract, or so the saying goes."
Harry leaned closer so their noses were scant centimetres apart. "You'd be bored with me within a week. That's why you and Tom make so much sense. He can fight you. He's not scared by your temper. In fact, he seems more alive when you two are sparing. Both of you do. You two finally found your perfect match, B'Elanna. You can't give up on each other, B'Elanna. You have to fight for what you want. And you and I both know what you want is a certain cocky, reckless, moody, sarcastic - I could go on - pilot."
B'Elanna looked inward for a moment then smiled at him. 'Harry was a good friend,' she thought to herself. 'Maybe there wasn't any harm in doing what he suggested.' A little glimmer of hope flared deep inside her.
"You win," she smiled. "I'll talk to Tuvok when we get back."
Harry's grin broadened infectiously. As hers grew to match his, she did something she never had done before - she gave Harry a kiss on the lips.
What had been meant as a show of gratitude quickly evolved beyond that. Whether it was because of their talk about how, on the surface at least, they seemed like such a good match, or mere curiosity, or something more, they later would not be able to say. At that moment, however, all they knew was what had started as a little peck suddenly became a full-fledged exploration of each other's dental patterns.
"Neelix to Kim and Torres."
The pair leapt apart as reality intruded once more.
After one brief collision of their startled gazes, they could not meet each other's eyes. Harry shakily cleared his throat and slapped his combadge.
"Yes?" he said in a rough voice.
"Oh, you've already heard. I hoped to tell you before anyone else did."
"Tell us what, Neelix?"
"About Tom and Tuvok."
B'Elanna jerked. "What about Tom and Tuvok?"
"About them being in surgery."
"What?" the pair ejaculated.
"You really didn't know? Oh, no. I am so sorry. You sounded upset. I thought you knew."
The two officers jumped to their feet.
"Kim to Voyager. Two to beam up."
