"Didn't you hear the Captain?" Tom smirked, leaning over Lt. Stadi. He'd always hated it when a senior officer leant into his personal space. Lt. Commander Paris placed a light but friendly hand on Veronica's shoulder, making the action informal. "You have a report to write and get back to me within the hour. I have a date in the Captain's dining room to discuss the results."
"The lengths some people will go, to sit at my helm," Stadi responded, eyes alight with mischief. Veronica could feel Tom's glee, his hands itching to touch the conn, yet, this man was conflicted after their mission debrief with the captain.
"I've been known to do my best thinking," Tom replied, catching the woman's humour, "while my hands a busy."
"Now why do I believe that?" Veronica teased, sensing Mr. Paris needed to keep his fingers and conscious mind active, allowing the recesses of his more than capable intellect to contemplate Voyagers mission and the consequences for his immediate family.
"Don't worry, Lieutenant," Tom returned in the same tone, "I'll give the conn back after you've summitted that report and had lunch." Sighing dramatically, the Commander was only half joking when he stated, "I have enough off bridge duties to bury myself in paperwork until my daughter turns eighteen." Quickly returning to being irrepressibly charming, Tom chuckled. "As you can see, I have to take my opportunities when and where I can get them."
Nodding, Veronica stood, "I understand, Sir. Just don't make a habit of it! I wouldn't want one of Starfleet's finest pilots to show me up."
Analysing the woman with a sharp glance, Tom Paris wondered what she was thinking. At least, he considered, Lt. Stadi seems to have accepted me. It's at times like this, I wish I had Betazoid perception. It would be nice to know the crew's opinions and how Dr. Fitzgerald's malicious tongue has already influenced their attitudes. Nothing I can do about it now, just pour on the old Tom Pairs charm, be myself and let my actions speak louder than words, after all, it seems to have worked in the past.
Walking off the bridge, Lt. Stadi couldn't help read the emotions radiating off the First Officer. They grew fainter as she entered the turbolift. Yet, the Chief Conn Officer considered slotting Tom Paris into the helm rotations one day a week. It would free up a reserve pilot if the Commander could fly Voyager while she took breaks and gave her junior staff more simulation time on the holodeck. It would also give Lt. Commander Tom Paris a chance to do what he loved best, fly a starship.
Besides, Lt. Stadi read the official Starfleet file on her new First Officer. He'd been a natural pilot as a child, gifted really. The accident on Caldik Prime hadn't decreased his skills, just increased Tom Paris's attention to details and obeying regulations. Strange how she could understand the fact, when his superior officers seemed to miss the fact.
Seven years earlier: Stardate (1st March 2364)
"Lt. Paris," Captain Paul Gresham eyed the young officer before him. He'd called the pilot into his office on Starbase 245 to deliver the bad news personally. Handing a PADD, Paul sighed. "I'm going to be sorry to see you leave."
"Leave, Sir," Tom asked, confusion written across his face.
Typical, Paris's mind seethed, just when I get comfortable, make friends and finally get to pilot more than shuttles, Starfleet transfers me. Who the hell did I tick off this time? Or is dear old Dad behind this, hoping to destroy my marriage? Not that I get to see my wife all that often.
"Billings has been reassigned, effective immediately. It will now run out of the Starfleet Academy on Fergus IV. As such, I've been searching for a position that will keep you close to Kathryn," Paul teased lightly, watching the emotions slide over the younger man's face.
"Have you had any luck, Sir," Tom asked. Unable to read the man, he added in a sarcastic tone, "or do I need my wife's reputation and petitioning for yet another successful transfer so I can see her once a month?"
"Watch you tone, Lieutenant," Captain Gresham warned, his expression hardening.
"Sorry, Sir," Tom almost had to bite his tongue as he stood to attention. "I'm just a little frustrated. As usual, I'm hearing this from you and not my wife. I seem to be the last to know anything of importance."
"Understandable in this case, Mr. Paris. As to the orders, I believe Commander Janeway will be made officially aware of them today, so don't blame Kathryn, Tom. I'm sure she's going to be just as upset as you obviously are. Besides, I know you didn't have the best start here," Paul sighed, almost falling into his chair. Pointing to the PADD, he offered, "and I was as much to blame as any of my crew. I admit, I heard all the rumours and kept them in the back of my mind, believing there had to be a fire with that much smoke. Why don't you take a seat and read the commendations from your commanding officers over the last year, before you get all hot under the collar, and say something you might regret later."
"Commendations?" Tom tone clearly showed his disbelief.
Paris started skim reading as Captain Gresham continued speaking. "I took you on for Kathryn's sake, and very begrudgingly. We served together as Lieutenants and I admired her, not that Janeway had the time of day for me." Smirking, Paul noticed Tom glance up, a second's jealousy in his clear blue orbs before he continued with the material before him. It demonstrated the pilot could multitask better than anyone the Captain knew, and how much he really wanted to be with his spouse. "I was reluctant to assign you to the shuttle bay on reading Commander Shizuko Armiger's assessment of your skills. One of your class mates from the Academy challenged me to make up my own mind and I'm glad she did. You're one hell of a pilot Mr. Paris. I wish we could have kept your services another year, then I could give you the Flight Controllers post for six months, now Sharon's pregnant and will be taking maternity leave. I would have recommended you for a permanent promotion afterwards. Sharon's pulling her hair out, trying to train Ayrsley to take over. You'll be sorely missed around here."
"Thank you, Sir," Tom said automatically. Astounded at the quality and depth of reports on his assignments while posted to the Starbase, they went a long way to ameliorating Commander Armiger, spurious, observations.
"I'm not going to lie to you," Paul sat forward in his seat, eyes focused on Paris. "I had to call in some favours and pull some strings to get your posting on Fergus IV, Lieutenant. Continue doing what you have here, and your career might just get back on track, even if it'll take quite some time."
"What is the assignment?" Tom asked, eyes blinking rapidly as the P word finally sunk in. Maybe Kate's correct, he considered, out here I can make my own reputation.
"Let's just say," Paul paused, allowing Paris time to understand the lengths he'd gone to secure the position, "it's a new post. You'll mostly be piloting, carrying dignitaries and academics wherever they need to go. There will be some holoprogramming. Oh," leaving the best until last, he added, "there is the little matter of your physical transfer to the Academy on Fergus IV. I believe Excelsior will be docking in two days. Captain Gallen needs an experienced Gamma shift pilot to cover emergency leave. Enjoy your time until you ship out, Lt. Paris. Dismissed."
Clutching the PADD, Tom was left reeling. A year of dirty looks and comments had finally paid off. Determined not to put a foot wrong on Excelsior, he knew it could be his chance to finally get back behind the conn, even if it meant less time with his wife. A posting to a starship, even on Gamma shift, proved there were some Captain's willing to take a chance on him.
"Janeway to Paris," the Comm badge chirped as he entered the turbolift to his quarters at the end of a very satisfying duty shift. Congratulations had come in thick and fast from his friends and colleagues, bolstering his ego.
"Go ahead," Tom answered automatically, a smile creeping onto his face.
"Meet me at gate Alpha twenty-six in forty minutes," she ordered.
"Yes, Ma'am," Tom whooped. "We have some celebrating to do, Kate."
"So, I hear," the Commander purred.
Present
Clearing his mind, Tom wondered whether it was being back at the conn of a starship, or the brief conversation with Lt. Stadi that caused the memories to surface. He'd managed to submerge most of his life with Kate under a blanket of calm needed to bring up his daughter. It hurt so dam much, to think of his wife and son, so, Tom had concentrated on making the best life from himself and Lizzy.
Smiling at the thought of his tiny, blond ball of energy, Tom wondered if he'd get the chance to visit with Elizabeth before meeting Rue for lunch. At least Tom had found the time to skim read the proposals sent from the operations and security officers while at the con. It seemed Lt. Harry Kim and Lt. Uri were eager to impress their new First Officer with their efficiency.
Shaking his head, Tom called up the security officers report. Uri's ideas dealt more with what to do with the former Starfleet crew once Intrepid had been captured than ideas on how to locate them. He included exact co-ordinates for their last known position, six days previously, a damage report and Lt. Tuvok's intelligence. Mr. Kim's thoughts tended more towards why avoiding the plasma storms would be advantageous for Voyager.
"Not a chance in hell," Tom muttered. "If we have to catch Intrepid, we're going to have to take her by surprise. Kate's to savvy to let us get anywhere near her ship. If she sees us coming, she'll hide. I'm not sure if Lt. Gaskellen Harbour is still at the helm. If she is, we got more problems than I want to count. That woman can almost fly as intuitively as me."
"You know," Stadi stated, placing a light hand on Tom's shoulder, "they say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness."
"Yep," Paris stated, eyes full of mirth. "I've been told before. Just don't tell anyone I answer myself, they'll think I'm completely nuts."
"You're secrets safe with me, Commander," Stadi lent in and whispered. "As long as you vacate my chair, now, Sir."
"Spoil sport," pulling a theatrically unimpressed face, Tom responded mockingly but quietly, "what's a superior officer supposed to do around here, to get some respect."
Letting out a soft chuckle, the changed places after Paris wiped the information off the screen. Before closing the program, he noticed Stadi and Fitzgerald had added their thoughts. Returning to his chair, Tom handed the bridge over to Lt. Uri, picked up a PADD, downloaded the remaining reports and walked over to the turbolift.
And so it begins, Tom sighed internally. Step one, make peace with my daughter, even if I'm a few minutes late for the Captain's dining room. Step two, capture Intrepid, her crew, but most importantly her traitorous captain. Step three, well, I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to see Kate again, let alone trust her. Step four, I get my son back. Step five, maybe it will be time to leave Starfleet and take my kids as far away from this mess as possible.