Chapter 7 – Into the Night
"So, Mr. Paris, would it be fair to say you were emotionally compromised during this part of the mission?"
"Excuse me?"
"Come now, Commander. Your own daughter had disappeared, likely abducted by hostile aliens. Your godson, too. You had no idea where they were, whether they were alive or not, or how to get them back. So I repeat. Were you, or were you not, emotionally compromised when you decided to engage the aliens?"
"If you are asking me whether I was unable to remain in a position of command, the answer is no. Not only did I continue to be in full possession of my faculties, as a result of the training I received just before becoming First Officer on the Enterprise and my practical experience in the Delta Quadrant, I was also the most qualified person on board to command an extraction mission. In order to rescue all the children, including my daughter, I could not afford to be 'emotionally compromised'. And I was not.
"If you are asking me whether I can be held responsible for any communications I initiated, any decisions I made after the children disappeared, the answer is yes, absolutely. I have never been more rational, clearer, or more deliberate about anything I have ever done in my life than the actions I took in the Trifid.
"If you are asking me whether I was personally affected by what had happened … Yes, yes, of course I was. I am human. My daughter's disappearance was the most horrific, gut-wrenching, devastating thing that ever happened to me. And believe me, there have been lot of horrific, gut-wrenching and devastating events in my life.
"But with all due respect, Your Honour, I am a Starfleet officer. I come from a very long line of Starfleet officers. Members of my family, including myself, have variously battled the Xindi, the Klingons, the Romulans, the Cardassians, the Dominion and the Borg, without one of them ever being 'emotionally compromised' about command decisions.
"While I served in the Delta Quadrant, my wife was assimilated by the Borg, abducted by hostile aliens, lost in space and Kahless knows what else. And I continued to perform my duties, often better under that pressure than at other times.
"Yes, I am a husband and a father in addition to being a Starfleet officer. And I never, ever forget that. Not for one nanosecond. Of course I am concerned for my family's safety and of course I am anxious when they are in danger. As I said, I'm human. But their very existence grounds me and makes me who I am as a Starfleet Officer. My daughter has taught me what is most valuable, what is most precious, and what must be protected. That understanding is not an 'emotional compromise'. It is who I am, and it dictates how I act. How I will act, always, and every time.
"I apologize for the length of this explanation. But I trust I have made myself clear."
+o+o+
Miral.
Like a spear of ice, the thought ripped through his heart and through every fibre of his being.
Miral.
Cheerful, bubbly, fierce, affectionate, stubborn, smart, beautiful, little Miral. His daughter. B'Elanna's joy. Their love.
Gone.
Tom hit his comm badge, his voice a bare croak. "Paris to Torres. Please come to the bridge. Now."
Tom's eyes found Harry's, whose baby son, little Tommy, was gone too. Harry stood dumbstruck, as pale as Tom had ever seen him; his hands were shaking at the ops console as the echo of Libby's distraught voice continued to ring in his ears.
Jorak, by contrast, was already tearing off the bridge and into the turbolift, two of his gamma shift officers hard on his heels, and calling for an additional security detail to join him in the safe zone, on the double. There had been no intruder alert, no alien life forms recorded, and the ship's shields had been up and apparently uncompromised since the K'rikians were transported back to their vessel.
Even though the computer had confirmed the children's absence, given the distorted sensor readings in the Trifid the possibility that they were still onboard could not be completely ruled out, and an investigation in the cause of their disappearance was best started where they had last been seen.
Fear and panic wouldn't help find Miral and the others. Tom's breath was starting to come steadier.
Think, Paris, think. You're a Starfleet Officer, goddammit. Think. The warp core silence. The children's disappearance. Must be a connection. What?
Tom closed his eyes as he briefly felt his Captain's comforting hand on his shoulder. For a hallucinatory moment he felt a smaller, warmer hand there, heard a gravelly, calming voice in his mind.
Calm down, Tom. We will get through this. Trust. Believe. Think. Look forward. There is a way. We'll find it.
His eyes flew open as B'Elanna strode onto the bridge, puzzlement in her eyes, then concern as she took in his ashen face. Harry turned to her, said a few words. As in slow motion, Tom watched her listen, watched her hand fly to her mouth to stifle a cry.
He went over to her, steadied her and stilled her panting breath, and looked over her head at Harry, whose hands were still gripping the console of the ops station - unmoving, frozen, his breath coming in shallow rasps now. By contrast, the Captain's fingers were flying over the console beside his chair like those of a man possessed, as he called out for Counselor Troi to go to the safe zone and assist the teachers. They would need her help, as would the parents that would come there.
Time to do.
Tom took his hands off B'Elanna's shoulders. He spoke sharply, pitching his voice at Harry - a commanding voice he dimly, and with no small amount of surprise, recognized as his father's. "Harry. Lieutenant Kim. What time did the warp core go off line, and what other energy readings do we have for that time? Report."
B'Elanna hissed out a breath at his tone and raised her head. Staring at her mate's face, watching the grim determination in his eyes, she blinked a few times then nodded, her own resolve returning. She headed for the bridge engineering station.
There would be time later to be paralyzed, to scream in anguish or in rage.
They were Starfleet officers, and their ship had been attacked. Members of their crew had disappeared and were in danger.
Harry shook his head as if to clear it. He looked briefly to the turbolift, fighting an impulse to seek out Libby. In a slightly softer tone, Tom said, "We need you here, Harry. Go to work. Help us find Tommy and Miral and the others." Harry reached for the console, hesitated again.
There was only one thing to do, and Tom knew he would hate himself for it later even as he knew it was necessary now. Tom called for Ensign Carsons to relieve Harry at Ops, and sent him to join the team investigating the children's disappearance in the safe zone. Where he would find Libby, and hopefully get his strength back.
Thirty minutes later, the briefing room was tense, and more crowded than usual. One after the other, department heads reported what they had found – relevant or not, that would be sorted out later. Ops was represented by Carsons.
Those parents who wished it had been allowed to patch into the meeting - via one-way comm link - at Deanna's request. She had notified each parent, and knew what they needed more than anything was information.
"Sitrep?" Riker asked curtly. One by one, his senior officers delivered what they knew, what was knowable.
The shields had apparently not been breached, but there had been an energy signature similar to that detected when the light being emerged. First outside the hull, then on the inside of the ship on several decks. It was conceivable that whatever it was, if it was one of the light beings, had penetrated the shield by momentarily harmonizing with its frequencies.
No alarms had been set off, but a crewmember stumbling home from his lover's quarters had reported a strange light phenomenon on Deck 10. The deck where the children's safe zone was located.
The warp core had gone off line at 0335 hours, less than halfway through Gamma shift. Cause still unknown; at best, B'Elanna said, it could be described as the dilithium crystals' energy matrix going dead, just after the Gamma shift supervisor in Engineering had seen a bluish-white flash of light. Matter-anti-matter conversion had stopped at that time. Lacking catalytic reaction, the warp core had simply ceased to pulse. There was no evident or even theoretical cause that would explain the possible failure of the inert catalysts; there was no detectable change in the crystals themselves and insertion of new ones had had no effect. Environmental sensors in Engineering had recorded similar energy readings to those on Deck 10, with minute divergences.
The children had vanished sometime between 0337 and 0339 hours. Libby Kim had woken up when she heard little Tommy crying, but thought she would wait before going to him as he was supposed to learn to sleep through the night. She was startled into checking up on him when his crying stopped abruptly, in mid-breath. At that time, she noticed all the cribs were empty, including the beds in the room where the older children slept. The only remaining people in the safe zone were herself, Nurse Ogawa and two other teachers who were spending the night there for additional adult support. Libby had notified the bridge of the disappearance at 0341 hours.
Ops had established that the K'rikian ship was over two million kilometers away – no doubt mining more asteroids with their insidious charges - and there was no physical or sensor-based indication their erstwhile guests were in any way involved. There were several asteroids in the vicinity, of the same type as the one that had been the site of the light being's emergence; none showed any life signs present, but sensor readings had repeatedly proven unreliable and the presence of light beings could not be excluded.
Counselor Troi's empathic receptors were so overpowered by the fears and despair of the affected parents onboard that she was unable to project and deploy them outside the ship.
"Analysis? Oh, never mind. Hell, I'll take speculation at this point. Anything? Anyone?" Riker asked, fatigue that has nothing to do with the early hour now etched across his face.
Jorak looked around the room and, with no one else ready to speak, took the floor, his delivery as usual flat and crisp. "Events and what energy signatures we can detect are consistent with at least one, probably two of the light beings entering the Enterprise and taking the children. Their motive is unknown, but it is notable that the timing closely followed the Enterprise's first contact with the K'rikians, with whom they are presently in conflict. Those are facts. It is logical to assume that the light beings may be concerned that we have taken sides in the conflict and have taken the children hostage to prevent our involvement, or to force another course of action." Nodding around the table confirmed that his logic made sense to those present.
"Options?"
Tom spoke up. "I'd like to take both Flyers out for a recce of the nearest asteroids, starting with those with the highest concentration of dilithium. Assuming the shuttle sensors aren't going to be any better use than the ship's, I would like Counselor Troi to come along, to see if her empathic senses can provide us with some direction. I appreciate that she may also be needed onboard, Captain, but I do believe her presence would be more useful on the away team if we want to find anything."
He stopped, and looked at the Captain with a slight challenge in his eyes. "It may be a fishing expedition, sir, but unless and until our luminescent visitors send us a ransom note, it's better than sitting around."
Riker nodded. "Agreed. Go ahead Commander. Assemble two away teams, under your command. And yes, Deanna, please join Tom. I'll contact the K'rikians to see if they have any information that could be useful."
Tom turned to B'Elanna. "You said something earlier, that the beings may be 'related to your warp core'. Assuming that's the case, is there anything we could use to … I don't know, slow them down or turn them off, without causing something akin to a breach?"
+o+o+
Dressed in the black jumpsuits designed for kinetic ground operations, the two away teams gathered in the main shuttle bay where the two Delta Flyer model shuttlecraft were sitting side by side, gleaming in the starlight that shone through the force field of the open bay. The jumpsuits had been impregnated with extra radiation shielding, and each team member was equipped with night vision goggles, auxiliary breathing apparatus and locator and comms devices. In addition, everyone carried tricorders and a regenerative phaser; a transport pattern enhancer rounded out the hardware.
Tom had slung his TR-116 rifle over his shoulder for good measure; the weapon was not official Starfleet issue but had become a clandestine favourite at the James T. Kirk Centre where he had taken his advanced tactical and command training. It had been the first thing he had built for himself when he came onboard the Enterprise, over B'Elanna's taunts about 'boys and their toys'. Tom had no idea whether it would have any effect on the energy beings – in fact he rather doubted it - but it was the best thing he could think of for blasting through rock without causing a hailstorm of fragments.
Ordinarily, Tom would have felt like a bit of a fraud in the commando outfit, even vaguely ridiculous, and would not have been afraid to make snide comments about the pretensions of the "men in black". Dreaming of being a member of the Special Operating Forces had never been his thing, even when he was a boy. When it came to deploying lethal force he preferred the purity, honesty and elegance of combat flying; by comparison, SOF work could be messy.
That said, he had participated in a number of undercover ops, extractions and recces into hostile territory while on Voyager – infiltrating the Kazon, entering Borg vessels, coming for the Captain in the Mokra prison; the advanced tactical training at the Kirk Centre had certainly prepared him for commanding such missions, even if he had not trained to be an actual commando. Most recently, the mission in the Neutral Zone had been, if not an unqualified success from his own perspective, certainly confirmation of his ability to keep a cool head despite relentless internal pressure. As a result, no doubts assailed him now; he was utterly focused on the task before him, cold and determined.
Tom was the only member of the away teams with a child missing. His lifelong habit of suppressing and compartmentalizing his emotions was, for once, more boon than baggage, and he considered himself fit for duty. Deanna Troi, in a very private exchange, at his own request, had validated his confidence.
Harry, on the other hand … His best friend was as fierce and fearless in battle as anyone he had ever seen, under the most extraordinary pressures, and Tom owed his life to Harry's courage several times over. But he had never seen him so utterly incapacitated as he had been when he first heard Libby's breathless cry for help and found out that his baby boy had vanished. The First Officer in Tom was concerned that he might, in this one instance, become a liability, and he had forced himself to shut out his instinctive desire to bring his friend and trusted battle companion. Tom knew he would have to explain his call to leave Harry off the team to him at some point; he owed this to his friend as much as the XO did to the Lieutenant. But he was not looking forward to the discussion, and quickly banished the thought from his mind.
With Sue Henley piloting Flyer Two, Tom put Jorak in command of that team. He would fly the other shuttle himself, with Mike Ayala – a competent back-up pilot in addition to being fluent in more dirty and useful fighting techniques than any other of the former Maquis members now serving Starfleet – as his own second.
Jorak's teams was rounded out by Jones from engineering and Bela Zargot, another of his security experts. For his on team, Tom had chosen Vorik – now fully recovered from his bout of the measles and over his embarrassment at having brought it onboard – and Deanna Troi whose presence, bluntly put, he hoped would make up somewhat for their ineffective sensors. That said, Troi would also be an important reassuring presence should they find the children, or find an opportunity to communicate with the aliens.
B'Elanna and her engineers had equipped both teams with portable dampening field generators, complete with phase modulators. She had been overseeing the loading of the equipment herself, and now moved to exchange a few words with Deanna Troi. Although polar opposites in disposition and temperament, the half-Klingon and half-Betazoid had become fast friends since that first meeting in a New Orleans jazz pub, often sharing their views on the male gender in general and the personality quirks of certain commanding officers in particular.
B'Elanna might have been looking for a few words of comfort from the ship's counselor before the latter left the ship, but Tom was not fooled. He knew that his wife's presence in the shuttle bay was a last-ditch effort to convince him to let her take Jones' place.
He understood her frustration at not being part of the mission to find her daughter, and wanted her by his side desperately as much for her engineering skills as for her tenacity in a fight. But given the continuing condition of the Enterprise's warp core, she was needed more on the ship. Yet another unwanted decision, filed away for future, unwanted discussion.
Putting on his best command face, Tom Paris turned to his wife. She recognized the closed look in his eyes immediately. Starfleet regulations were clear: spouses should not report to each other where possible, unless one of them was the Captain. Her direct line of command was therefore normally to Will Riker. But this was Tom's mission, and she knew it - just as she knew what he would say if she asked. Knowing an argument was the last thing he needed before leaving, she sighed in resignation and frustrated acceptance.
"You're not going to change your mind, are you." It was a statement, not a question. Tom shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Fine. But come back. With Miral."
With these simple words, wrenched from her gut as she remembered how her mate had returned from his last away mission and what he was going out to do now, she threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulled him down and kissed him fiercely – spectators be damned. Then, turning on her heels, B'Elanna Torres left the shuttle bay without another look back, ready to unleash her considerable fury on her engines.
Commander Thomas Eugene Paris for his part stood still for a second, collected his thoughts and called the mission.
+o+o+
The search parameters Jorak and Tom had established for the team were simple. Assuming the light beings were not planning on killing the children – they could have done so onboard, presumably, had they so wished, along with everyone else, and Deanna was adamant she had never sensed any malice in what contact with them she had had - they had to be on one of the asteroids with an oxygen atmosphere. For the aliens, it was likely that dilithium was an important environmental factor.
Finally, it could be assumed that twenty-three children were a challenge to transport for non-corporeal beings - other than a Q, anyway. Tom had dismissed that particular unpleasant thought just as quickly as it had struck him; Q would have come by to gloat by now if he had had anything to do with the disappearance. So, all factors considered, proximity was likely a given; that and the other considerations resulted in a flight plan that would run the two shuttles past some seventeen asteroids.
How he knew that the sixth would be the one, Tom would never learn. Despite his instinctive ability to read people he was not an empath, and no one in his family had ever exhibited so much as the slightest of abilities in the ESP range. But as soon as he saw the jagged, vaguely cigar-shaped object he called out over the comm to the other shuttle. "Jorak, I think we have it. Sending the coordinates. I don't know how but I have a feeling …"
Deanna Troi confirmed his intuition almost immediately. "I sense them. And the children." She gasped in relief. "All of them, I think, although it is hard to be sure with the babies, their thought patters aren't very developed yet. All of them seem to be asleep."
Ayala punched in the short coded message to the Enterprise that confirmed initial contact, together with their coordinates. Tom banked the Flyer behind a neighbouring asteroid, where they would rendezvous with Jorak's. He turned to Deanna.
"What do you get from the aliens, now that we're so close to them?" he asked intently, even as his insides were screaming to hear news about his daughter.
Deanna closed her eyes. "It's indistinct. Their feelings are powerful, but not as … clearly resolved as ours. It's as if they are projecting emotions as colours. The colours are washed out due to the distance, and some I don't even recognize." She remained silent for a few moments.
"Fear. Need." Her eyes opened, but remained unfocused. "Great disquiet, uncertainty."
"Good. A lack of determination on their part will make our job easier." Tom hit his comm badge. "Paris to Jorak. Beam over to Flyer One with Zargot. We'll keep Flyer Two in orbit as a getaway option in case things go south on the surface. Keep Henley and Jones onboard to facilitate evac if needed. I'll take you two and my entire team dirt side. Paris out."
"Acknowledged," came Jorak's voice over the comm.
A few minutes later, he and Ensign Zargot materialized on Tom's ship. A short time afterwards the six officers left the ship and fanned out in pairs, the two Vulcans and the Betazoid carefully shielding their thoughts in the ways developed by races accustomed to telepathic communication. Tom hoped fervently that if he couldn't sense the aliens they couldn't sense him; there was of course no way to be sure.
In the end, the operation was over almost before it began.
Once outside the shuttle, Deanna was quickly able to point to a cavern entrance not unlike the one where the earlier away team had nearly come to grief. Tom suppressed a small shudder as he directed Vorik to place the first set of dampening field generators in a square corresponding to an area Deanna indicated. The team would take the second set inside the cavern.
Moving as silently as they could, they entered the cave, in groups of two in the traditional pattern of advancing, securing an area, letting the next two move ahead. True to Tom's expectations, the path that led down to where a shimmer of light suggested they might find their targets was similar to the layout of the cavern where he had encountered his first light being. He hoped fervently that there would be no mines, but suspected the light beings would have set them off if there had been.
Best not to think of the children, when thinking about mines.
After a few twists and turns, the rocky path opened out into a large chamber.
This time, though, neither Tom nor the others lingered to admire the beauty of the crystals in the large chamber that opened before them. Their attention was drawn instead to two shimmering entities, hovering near the back of the cavern – vaguely humanoid in shape and size, but incorporeal, made of an iridescent blue light that pulsed gently and steadily, thinning into tendrils not unlike old-fashioned neon-lights washed out by fog. The tendrils emanating from each alien curved around and joined the other's, shaping a pale sphere where the Enterprise's children lay, in what appeared to be either a deep sleep or suspended animation.
Rainbow lights where whirling where a humanoid's eyes might be as the beings slowly turned their … faces? … towards the team. They made no motion to intercept the intruders, instead holding tight to keep the children's sphere in place.
Tom suppressed the overwhelming urge to run, to scream for his daughter to hear him and come to him. He did none of these things.
Instead, he balled a fist, digging his gloved fingers deep into his palm to let the pain ground him a little and to summon the commanding officer within, before motioning to Ayala and Zargot. He directed them to set up another dampening field generator, where the path opened into the cavern. That done, he gave the signal to Jorak and Vorik, to use their natural Vulcan strength and speed to sprint forward into the cave and deposit the remaining generators. A flick of one switch, and they all powered up at the same time, those above ground and those inside the cavern.
The effect was instantaneous, and Tom gave silent thanks for B'Elanna's insight. The light emanating from the two aliens dimmed perceptibly, turning to a dull grey, and Deanna Troi gave a gasp as if in pain. The aliens began to convulse even as the force field – if that was what it was – around the children flickered and dissolved.
As the children began to stir, a part of Tom thought that this had been too easy.
Much too easy.
+o+o+
"They are in pain. They want us to stop … the machines," Deanna managed, her simple words voicing thoughts that were not her own, her face reflecting a fear she herself did not feel.
Like hell, Tom thought – with far more cruelty than he would have thought himself capable of. Let them suffer, for what they've done to Harry and Libby, for all the parents … But just as soon as these black thoughts were starting to take hold, he recoiled. No, Paris, that's not who you are. Get a grip on yourself. NOW.
A plan occurred to him, even as he spotted Miral groggily coming to and saw her blue eyes open and turn towards him. Jorak and Zargot had gone over to the children to reassure them, keep them from approaching the aliens.
"Deanna, if you can communicate with the aliens, tell them we'll be happy to talk – after we get the children out. We'll talk all they want, as long as they want, about anything they want. But those dampeners stay on until all the kids are off this fucking rock."
His tone was clipped and cold, and he turned his head slightly so he would not have to see the tears streaming down Deanna Troi's face as she was gripped in the aliens' pain.
Silently, slowly, she nodded. They had agreed.
Tom's breath hissed in relief. "Flyer Two, do you read the children's life signs? Can you transport them out?" " Negative," came Jones' answer. "The dampening fields are doing their job too well. I don't think even the pattern enhancer will help. You'll have to bring them out to the surface."
Tom cursed silently, hesitated for a split second, made his decisions.
"Jorak, you take the rest of the team and the children out to Flyer One and back to the Enterprise. Have the older children help you carry the babies and little ones if they can't walk or are too tired. Deanna and I will stay here and have a chat with our 'friends'. Have Henley and Jones remain in orbit and wait for us until further notice."
"Daddy!" The sleepy little voice shook him to the core. No matter how much he ached to see her, hold her, part of him had hoped that Miral would not recognize him with the protective face plate on, that she would just go with Jorak and the other children – all still half dazed from the stasis field they had been in - and allow him to stay and do what he needed to do until they were all safe. To bring this mission to a successful conclusion, whatever that would be.
"Daddy, where are we? Where's Mommy?"
Tom shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds, flipped his faceplate to rest on top of his head and turned to face his daughter. Squatting down, he stroked a stray curl out of her face and planted a kiss on her forehead.
"Sweetheart, listen to me. Listen real close. I know this is hard to understand, but you have to go with Jorak, back to the Enterprise. Mommy will be waiting for you there. I still have something to do here. I'll see you soon."
"But Daddy, I'm scared! Want to stay here with you!"
Tom's heart broke a little as he took his daughter in his arms. He knew what he had to do. She would not understand, might even hate him for a while.
But she would be safe.
He stood up, and noticed Mike Ayala, who had unexpectedly materialized beside him. The tall security officer, father of two boys - both now at the Academy - looked at him with an unreadable expression in his near-black eyes and held out his arms.
"I'll look after her for you, sir. You can count on me."
The most words Ayala had ever spoken, in Tom's memory. The sweetest he had ever heard. Tom silently nodded his appreciation and his trust and handed his child into the other man's arms.
"There, sweetheart, Mike here will take care of you. I have to stay. I need you to be safe. I love you."
And with those words, Tom Paris, First Officer of the USS Enterprise, dismissed his Lieutenant with another short nod and forcing himself, but failing, to ignore his daughter's desperate cries and outstretched arms, turned on his heels to do his duty.