Nearly a week had passed since they had left port. Tom Paris stood in the mess line, waiting for his lunch. He turned to see Harry Kim in deep conversation with Commander Cavit and suppressed a stifling sense of disappointment. So long Harry. Nice knowing you.
"What do you want?" said the surly cook, not even pretending to be civil. "Tomato soup?"
"That sounds good," said Paris hopefully. The cook dumped a runny liquid into a bowl and threw a serving of hardtack in for good measure.
"Thanks," said Paris, hoping he sounded as sarcastic as he felt. He walked over to where Kim was sitting and Cavit stood up.
"Remember what I said, Ensign," he said.
"I will, sir," said Kim. Cavit shot Paris a glance as he left, but said nothing. Paris sat in front of Kim, trying to grin at him.
"There, you see? I told you it wouldn't take long."
"Is it true?" asked Kim, trying and failing to sound like a hardened investigator.
"Was the accident my fault? Yeah. But it took me a while to admit it." He took a mouthful of soup and nearly spat it back. It turned out to be nothing more than tomatoes boiled in water. He tried to take a bite out of the hardtack, but he might as well have tried to take a bite out of the table.
"Seafleet trained cook and he can't even get tomato soup right…"
Kim wasn't distracted. "He said you falsified reports."
"That's right." He threw the hardtack into the soup, hoping to soften it.
"Why?"
Why? Why does anyone do anything? Paris tried and failed to come up with the correct answer. Why had he done it? Fear probably, but the truth was, he couldn't really remember anymore.
"What does it matter? I lied."
"But you came forward later and admitted it."
Paris sighed. Kim must have never met anyone like him before. Just went to show how sheltered this kid had been his whole life. Paris ignored his soup and looked him in the eyes.
"I'll tell you the truth – all I had to do was keep my mouth shut and I was home free. But the ghosts of those three dead officers came to me in the middle of the night and taught me the true meaning of Christmas…"
He heard his own brain laughing at him for his flippancy. He ignored it, pressing on with the story.
"So I confessed. Worst mistake I ever made, which only paved the way for more stupid mistakes. I went looking for a fight and found the renegades." He let out the ironic chuckled he'd been holding back. "And on my first mission, I was caught."
"Must have been tough for you," said Kim. "Being the son of an admiral and all."
Paris shrugged. "I think it was harder on my father than it was on me."
The memory of the hearing sprang to mind. Paris clearly remembered his father's expression; shaking his head in disappointment, as if he should have expected his son to fail. Paris himself had wondered at the time if he shouldn't have seen it coming.
"Listen, Cavit told you to stay away from me and you should probably listen to him," Paris said, preparing to throw out his lunch. "I'm not exactly a good luck charm."
Kim looked at him. "I don't need anyone choosing my friends for me." He smiled, as if proud of his decision. Paris gave an inward scoff. Your funeral, kid. He stood and left the hall, pitching his bowl on a nearby counter, trying not to give a damn about someone who finally said they didn't care about his past.
Don't turn around, he told himself. Don't give him a glimmer of hope. Better he thinks you're a jerk than drag him down with you when you finally fall for good.
"Wait!" Kim called, running out after him. "One more thing!"
"Paris!" shouted a crewman from halfway down the ladder. "The captain wants you up on deck – we're coming up on the Broken Islands and she doesn't want any last minute surprises."
"I'm on my way," he said, moving for the ladder. Kim grabbed his shoulder.
"Did the captain hire you to find the renegades?" he asked. "Is that the debt you were talking about?"
The kid was quick. "That's right. The captain herself came down to the prison and offered me the job. I help her find the renegades, my sentence is over. Simple as that."
"Why you, though?" he asked. "There must be dozens of renegades who've been arrested. Why she'd pick you specifically?"
Paris thought for a moment. She'd probably sought him out because he was one of the few renegades willing to sell out his comrades. Or maybe she just thought he'd owe her some loyalty after she revealed she'd served with his father on the Al-Batani. He wasn't sure Kim would understand his irreverence toward loyalty, so all he said was, "You'll have to ask her that."
He turned and headed up the ladder, with Kim following behind.
Captain Janeway joined her first mate next to the helm. The water was a dull gray and small white caps appeared at the tops of each wave. All trace of cheery sunshine had disappeared behind indifferent clouds and she could smell rain on the wind.
"Report," she said.
"According to Ensign Jenkins, we're getting close. Ensign Vorik is on watch up top, keeping an eye out," said Cavit. She looked up to see a lithe form at the top of the mainmast. Assigning a disciplined member of the Vulcan tribe to the fighting top was a good idea. He would not get seasick or tired as quickly as anyone else might.
"Good. Crewman," she said to a passing man, "get Mr. Paris up here on the double."
"Aye, Captain." He turned and headed down the ladder that led to the cabins.
"I've been watching the sky all morning. I think we're coming up on a blow," said Cavit. Even as he said it, she thought she heard thunder in the distance.
"Nothing we can't handle," she answered.
Tom Paris soon appeared next to her just as Vorik yelled "Land ho!" from above.
"Captain." He nodded to her and she returned it. "Commander."
Cavit did not reciprocate; instead he gave Paris a look that was just this side of hostile and returned his attention to the helm. Janeway made a mental note have a talk with him later. Paris either didn't notice or didn't care.
"The base is on the biggest island," Paris said. "We won't be able to pull in much closer than the outer sand bars – the water's too shallow."
"We'll have to take the shuttle boats," said Janeway. Paris gazed wistfully at the wheel, then turned his attention back to the horizon. According to him, he had quite a reputation as a helmsman. Of course, she'd met him while he was still in prison; there wasn't exactly a place for him to prove it. He had been less than enthusiastic when he learned he'd be leading Voyager back to his former comrades. He became considerably less excited when she told him what he'd be doing.
"Officially, you'd be an observer aboard my ship," she had said.
He had protested. "Observer? Aw, hell, I'm the best helmsman you could have."
"You'll be an observer. Once the mission's over, you're cut loose."
"Story of my life."
It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to walk away and leave him to rot in that jail cell. That attitude of his was nothing but trouble. He was trying too hard to make everyone believe he didn't care at all. He was, potentially, dangerous; willing to take stupid risks and didn't care who got hurt while he did it. But she needed him, which meant she had to make him see who was in charge. She had grabbed him by the chin and stared directly into his clear blue eyes.
"If anyone on my crew gets hurt because of you or your actions," she had said, "I'll bury you so deep you'll never see daylight again."
The fear that had showed on his face gave her the answer she was looking for. It seemed he still cared, after all.
The Broken Islands pulled steadily closer as the sky grew steadily more threatening and a spatter of rain broke out for a few minutes. This time, she definitely heard thunder over the water. It came directly astern, from the north, and she turned to see thick, black clouds approaching.
"Looks to be quite a storm," said Cavit. Janeway didn't bother replying. She motioned Lieutenant Tuvok, the weapons master, over. A dark-skinned member of the Vulcan tribe, she was proud to call Tuvok one of her closest and most dependable friends. Not many people understood the effort that went into this kind of friendship, but neither did they reap the rewards. He was one of the few people she trusted completely. She shook off her thoughts and brought herself back to the task at hand.
"Make ready two of the shuttle boats and get a detachment for both of them," she said. Tuvok nodded once and headed for the forecastle, calling out directions. The islands were now close enough to make out their individual shapes, so Janeway drew her spyglass and started looking for a suitable spot to anchor.
"Captain!" shouted Vorik. "There's a ship headed away from the islands off our port bow!"
Anyone who wasn't already busy ran to the portside to get a look. So did Janeway and Paris followed her. She tried to get a better look through the spyglass, but no luck.
"Can you identify it, Ensign?" she called to Vorik.
"You don't think they'd be dumb enough to fly a renegade flag this close to their own base, do you?" asked Paris. Janeway didn't dignify his comment with a response.
"We are not close enough to accurately identify it," said Vorik, "but I believe they intend to get out and away, as they are turning full into the wind."
"Are you planning on chasing them, Captain?" said Kim, coming up to them.
"Not just yet. Run up the K signal – see if they'll talk." Janeway shivered as the rain hit them again. The sky was growing darker. Ensign Kim was close enough to carry out her order and did so immediately. Janeway took another look through the spyglass and could now identify the reddish sails on the little ketch.
"Mr. Paris, is that ship the Val Jean?" she asked, passing him the spyglass.
He only needed a second to identify it, then passed it back. "I'm sure it is, unless they sold their ship to someone else."
She gave a grim smile to no one in particular. "Helm, come to port and close the distance between us." Voyager's hull swung around so she was headed directly for the little ship.
"Lieutenant, take over here," said Cavit, calling over Lieutenant Stadi. "Steady as she goes. Call if you need help." The air flickered white and thunder crashed. He looked up at the black clouds overhead, just as they began to dump sheets of water on him. They needed to furl the mainsail as soon as possible. He ran down to the main deck and started shouting for the crew to get to work. Always alert, the bosun nodded and blew several blasts on his whistle, stirring the crew into motion. The ship would do fine with the mizzen sail, as now the wind was whipping them about. He grabbed the nearest line and started hauling on it. It was not easy – the wind had been building ever since the first spray and they were having trouble getting it under control. He locked eyes with the captain from across the deck, uncertain.
Commander Cavit's eyes were full of concern, the captain saw. She recognized the danger as well. It would take the strength of the entire crew to furl the sails under the might of the approaching storm. Not wasting another moment, she threw open the hatch and bolted halfway down the ladder.
"All hands on deck!" she shouted, "Everybody topside, now!"
Instantly, there came the rush and clatter of the crew. She ran back up the ladder, only to see Lieutenant Stadi fighting a terrific battle with the helm. Cavit could direct the crew – Stadi needed help keeping them on course. Running was now made difficult by the bucking of the deck; the waves were hitting Voyager broadside. They needed to straighten her out and take the brunt of the waves with the bow, the way she was meant to take them. Reaching the wheel, she saw Stadi straining with all her might under the force of it. As soon as Janeway had her hands on it, she understood why. The wheel desperately wanted to spin to starboard, but that would throw them even further off course than they were now. They were still behind the renegade ship, but listing to starboard. She threw her weight against it, but nothing happened.
"Paris!" she barked. "Get over here!"
Lighting flashed, thunder exploded and a huge wave washed over the deck, sending the crew sliding to the starboard side. A wild scream drifted up to her, but she couldn't tell who had been hurt. Janeway and Stadi scrambled back to their feet and dashed for the wheel. The wind gusted with brutal force and the fighting top snapped off with a rending crunch. It crashed to the deck with a blow that shook the ship from stem to stern. Lines snapped and lashed about and people recoiled as they were whipped. Another wave struck and washed the remains over the side. Janeway felt a stab of ice. Had Vorik gone with it?
Paris arrived just as she thought it and helped to shove the wheel to port, inch by inch. She might have been more grateful of his help if she had been feeling anything but raw grief. Why hadn't she ordered Vorik down when the storm hit?
The wheel jerked in her hands, demanding her attention. The three of them shoved it to port again and held it as steady as they could. Steady was a relative term, of course, but now that most of the sails were furled, the awesome force of the wind had lessened somewhat. Cavit shouted and threw a line to Vorik, who wound it tight around a belaying pin.
Vorik was safe! She could have laughed aloud with relief, but she kept herself in check; the danger had not yet passed. This storm was as brutal as any she had ever seen. It had come on faster than any storm she'd seen before, in the space of just an hour or two. Something nudged her arm.
"Is it just me, or is there something strange about the lightning?" said Paris. So, she wasn't the only one to notice this storm's strangeness. She looked out over the water, where a white fork split the sky with fierce brilliance. For barely a heartbeat, all the raindrops and spray seemed suspended in the air as individual particles of water. The moment vanished and another wave washed over the deck. Lighting cracked again, less than a second from the one before. It was going off almost once a second, accompanied by ceaseless thunder.
"It's getting closer!" said Stadi. "Like it's trying to find us!"
Janeway tried to shake off the feeling they were both right, but to no avail. There was something unnatural about this storm. She looked out again, trying to understand. Suddenly, the wheel gave a lurch in her hands.
"We need to keep the wheel steady!" shouted Stadi over the wind.
"Use one of the pins to brace it!" said Paris. Stadi nodded, dashing to a row of belaying pins to grab one. All of them were wound with rope and she gave a cursory glance to see which one was least important. She yanked one free, setting its rope flying in the wind, then started back for the wheel. The rope fluttered erratically, then wound around Stadi's outstretched arm. Janeway shouted a warning, but the sail the rope had set loose suddenly gusted with terrible force. With a scream, Stadi was yanked over the side and fell into the water below. Paris raced for the rail, but the woman did not surface. He immediately returned to the wheel.
"She's gone, Captain," he said. Janeway nodded, throat tight. There would be time to mourn later – she ignored the tears sliding down her face.
"Captain, the lighting!" shouted Kim. She looked for herself – it was closer than ever. Now it was striking on both sides of the ship. The crew seemed to have noticed, too. The quality of their shouting had gone from urgent commands to exclamations of fear and surprise. She could see it striking in the water just twenty yards away, making the ocean boil with anger. With dawning horror, she realized that Voyager herself might be drawing it in – the only attractor on the water for kilometers around.
"All hands, brace for impact!" she yelled with all her strength, not sure what good it would do. Some people grabbed the railing, but most didn't hear her. Time began to slow and everything took on a quality of unreality. She looked up to see a bolt headed straight for them and when it struck the mast –
Everything went so brightly white she was sure she was blinded. The light was so intense she could feel it burning through her. Her body was rigid with electricity. She couldn't feel the wind or spray or the wheel or the deck under her feet. But there was pain. Pain like she never imagined. Pain so intense that it wiped out her memories, as if there had never been anything in existence before this pain and there would be nothing after it. Something within her broke and the white faded to black.