The reappearance of captain and commander on the bridge during Beta shift, ordering Ensign Lang to log a sensor record of all the life forms and their respective masses in the quarters known to belong to Kes and Harry Kim, was the first sign to the crew at large that something of import was occurring. The second was the order for a multi-phasic scan, which revealed a slight phase distortion in the same cabin. The Beta shift bridge crew went about their tasks with a minimum of discussion after that. When Ensign Lang reported that the life form readings had dropped to one, with a complete loss of mass for one of the life forms, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay shared the kind of look that had been missing from the bridge for several weeks, and an even greater hush fell upon the bridge crew.
"Is the multi-phasic scan showing anything, Ensign?"
"Yes, Captain. Now there seem to be two areas of distortion. Do you want me to do anything about it?"
"Just keep me informed if there is any change in the distortions, Ensign." A look of mourning already on her face, Janeway turned to her first officer. "So, Commander, what do we do? A service?"
He thought a moment. "It would be better to provide closure for the crew. At noon?" The captain of Voyager acquiesced, then hesitated only slightly before ordering an open comm line throughout the ship. The captain and the commander took their feet, with Seven-of-Nine standing behind them, where she had stayed since they had all arrived at the bridge.
In a steady voice, the captain intoned, "We have lost one of our own tonight. Kes has passed on to another kind of existence. She says it is not a death, but I am not sure that most of us will be able to make that fine a distinction. We will never see her again. There will be a brief service tomorrow on Holodeck One at 1200 hours, where anyone who wishes to remember her will gather. Janeway out."
Tom, Tuvok, and Neelix stood for over three hours in the corridor, awaiting Harry's reappearance. Neelix was despondent, and Tom was only a little less so. Tuvok's face was expressionless, but Tom, when he glanced over at him, did not get that sense of imperturbability that the Vulcan usually exuded. A few crewmen passed by, but if they wondered what three of Voyager's senior officers were doing hanging outside of the quarters shared by the operations officer and the Doctor's assistant, they said nothing.
After the captain's announcement, many more people walked by, some stopping to speak with the officers and each other in hushed tones for short stretches of time before moving on. Gerron and the Delaney sisters stayed, however, as Gerron took a place by the door of Kes' and Harry's quarters, reciting a Bajoran chant in an almost inaudible voice as Megan and her sister Jenny stood next to him.
Gerron was still in the midst of his chant when Harry, his dry eyes empty of the spark of humor that they usually seemed to contain, opened the door and stepped outside of his quarters. Tom embraced him briefly, in turn Jenny and Megan also put out their arms to embrace the Ensign; but it was to Neelix that Harry finally turned. "It was peaceful, Neelix. She was . . . accepting. And she says she will stay here, to watch over us, even though we can't see her."
A subdued Neelix accepted this with unexpected reserve. "I expected something like that. She was so wonderful. Harry, did you hear the captain's announcement?"
"Yes, I did. Neelix, I was wondering if there is anything you'll want to say tomorrow."
"Of course. Do you want to come to my quarters and discuss if for a while?"
Harry looked at Tom, who waved him on with understanding. For Harry to stay in his quarters tonight would be a burden, and Neelix was probably the best person for him to be with at this time. As the two men who had been closest to Kes in her short life walked to Neelix's quarters, Gerron's mellow voice softly chanted in the background, with Megan and Jenny, now arm and arm and fighting back tears, continuing their show of support behind him.
Tom turned to his Vulcan meditation instructor, pitching his voice low so he would not disturb Gerron in his self-appointed task. "Tuvok, for a long time all of us skeptical Starfleet types have been using terms like 'spatial anomalies' and 'noncorporeal life forms' to explain away beings that are beyond our 'current understanding.' It's as if by giving something a specialized scientific term, we can bring everything we don't understand into focus as science, make it all factual. As long as it all seems to fit some theory, we don't have to think about whether that something can also be described in spiritual terms, like 'soul,' for instance ."
"It is logical to try to impose order on the universe, Mr. Paris."
"But is it logical to label a faith like Gerron's as superstition, when the scientific explanations sound more like magic than fact themselves? We know that the beings that created the Bajoran wormhole have an awareness of time that is far outside our usual comprehension of it; the evidence is irrefutable. The Vulcan concept of the katra has been ridiculed as 'Vulcan mumbo-jumbo' - I've heard some of the admirals talk, Tuvok, joking about what they don't understand. But now I'm thinking, if telepathic species like Vulcans and the Ocampa can sense the noncorporeal essence that lingers after the body's death, is it really so far-fetched that just maybe the same thing happens with other beings, who simply are too blind telepathically to be able to sense it, as your people do?"
"I do not know, Mr. Paris. There do seem to be some concepts which are, after all, beyond the understanding of finite beings such as ourselves."
Gerron finished chanting. Bowing towards the chamber that was now empty of life forms as Starfleet knew them, he turned to go, with Megan and Jenny each taking one of his arms. As they passed by the senior officers, Tom was asking the Vulcan rhetorically, "How can we understand what is beyond understanding, Tuvok?"
Tuvok did not appear to have an answer, but as he and the Delaney sisters passed by, Gerron supplied one: "Faith."
B'Elanna could not sleep. Her thoughts kept returning to Kes, who would never hold her own child in her arms. Once she had heard the captain's message and knew that it was all over, B'Elanna was reminded of the way she had felt when she was five years old, when her father had left her family. For the first time since her human half had been comforted by Tom in the Vidiian mines, tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
Sorrow turned inevitably to anger. "Kes, if you really are hanging around here, I wish you'd tell me what to do. Nothing in my life has ever confused me the way this baby has!" B'Elanna raged.
Flopping around to a new position in her bed, a new thought struck B'Elanna, who mused into empty air, to a spirit that might or might not be there, "Funny, I don't even know when she became 'this baby,' instead of a pregnancy waiting to be terminated." B'Elanna brooded some more before again addressing the unseeable. "You always knew, didn't you, that if I started to think about a little girl growing inside my body, waiting to be born, I wouldn't be able to go through with that 'procedure.' Kes, I don't know how I'm going to do it by myself and be chief engineer at the same time!" She sighed. "I guess I'll just have to figure out a way.
"You know, Neelix knows about the baby, Kes, it's only going be a matter of time before he spills it all over the ship. I have to talk to Tom before the rest of the crew hears, he'll be so hurt if he finds out any other way, but how? Just blurt it out? Should I seek him out and tell him now, when he's hurting so about you? 'Oh, hello, Tom, too bad about Kes, and by the way, I'm pregnant with your child. Thought you should know.' "
B'Elanna could imagine Tom holding his own child in his arms. She had seen him with Sam Wildman's little girl. Tom often did that thing so many men liked to do, tossing Tabitha into the air, prompting delighted squeals of laughter from her, yet Tom seemed to like being around the child for her own sake, too. She had seen him cuddling the child in his arms.
B'Elanna closed her eyes and visualized his golden head bent over Tabitha's small one, the big but gentle hands supporting the little girl in his arms, gently stroking the small head - except the small head she was imagining no longer belonged to a human-Ktarian child, but to another who had the suggestion of Klingon ridges across her brow, a lithe but sturdy, one-quarter-Klingon, three-quarter-human child. Someone Tom could guide through life with all of his hard-won stories. Somehow he always seemed to come up with the one you needed to hear, like that one he'd told her when they were the captives of the Vidiians, about covering up his head with a hat when his father forced him to have his hair shorn in the summer. Such a simple tale, really, but it had comforted her when her human self was sick and in a panic from having her Klingon self ripped away from the rest of her. That was the first time she had seen the gentle side of Tom Paris - the antithesis of the playboy pig he had been pretending to be.
Sleep was not going to come tonight, no matter how much she needed it. Giving up the attempt, B'Elanna arose from her bed. She walked to the window in her quarters to watch the illusion that the streaming stars were flowing by her, even though B'Elanna was perfectly aware that it was Voyager that was plowing through the Delta Quadrant, past the stars that moved on their own trails in the icy cold of space. Voyager hurtled by so unimaginably fast in relation to someone standing on a planet's surface, yet so slowly when viewed from a vantage point outside the galaxy, that Voyager might look as if it were drifting toward the Alpha Quadrant instead of traveling at warp speeds.
Drifting. Golden hair, or is it golden aura? Icy. Trail. Streams. Gentle, gentle as the deer you have tamed. B'Elanna hurried to her computer station to look up the poem whose fragments were floating around in her memory, the poem that Tom had offered to her in their den, and which she had rejected as beautiful, but not romantic enough. Not a love poem.
B'Elanna found it: "Written on the Wall at Chang's Hermitage." Remembering Tom's crack about her acting like a Tabern monk, a smile reached her lips. As B'Elanna read the words of the poem, she recognized aspects of it that she had not seen in the cave of Tantrum IV. Tom had said it was not a love poem; and it was true, from him to her, it did not fit. But the other way . . . She, too, had been a wanderer, a seeker. She had found one with the aura of silver and gold all around him, who could be gentle and loving. A man who knew what it was to drift in an empty boat, but who had found a way to endure the drifting until he had found a way to believe in himself again.
Maybe it still wasn't exactly a love poem, but it helped her see what she was trying to avoid facing. B'Elanna's headlong rush away from Tom to go back to being strong, independent, but lonely B'Elanna had made her oblivious to much that was important. Meeting personal goals about standing up for herself were all well and good, but there was more to life than blind adherence to a personal philosophy that left no room for something that had brought her joy. Life truly was a journey, and along the way, Tom Paris somehow had become an integral part of hers. Instead of being stronger, she was weaker without him.
The service of remembrance for Kes was like every memorial service Kathryn Janeway had ever presided over, or ever been to, for that matter. A change to another level of existence, that could describe death, too. As the various speakers stood before their comrades and shared their remembrances of crewmate, nurse, and friend, those left behind clearly could not tell the difference either, as she had suspected would be the case. Without a body to inter into the depths of space, all present who wished to could cling to the ambiguity of her passing, permitting them the luxury of believing in the illusion of further life for Kes.
Harry and Neelix were being treated equally as the bereft family, she noted. Neelix had assumed the role of big brother to Kes over the last few weeks - had it really been such a short time since Kes and Harry had found each other? How incredible! The Talaxian and the Terran of Asian descent sat next to one another, accepting as their due the plaudits of all who spoke so glowingly of the woman they both had loved. Who was Kathryn Janeway to deny their joint right to it? Neelix had loved Kes for a longer time, but, she did not think, as intensely as Harry had. They had made their peace with one another while Kes was still on Voyager, and the bond between them seemed to be surviving now that she was gone.
The Doctor was bereft in another way. He had depended upon Kes for smoothing over the rough edges of his bedside manner towards his patients. Another assistant would have to be found, but who? That's a problem for another day. All that the captain knew, as she looked upon the Doctor's image, was that if any doubted just how far he had come from the computer program that had been installed on Voyager, one glance at his present expression of grief would correct the skeptic of his mistake.
Starfleet or Maquis, all who spoke had had nothing but good to say. After Captain Janeway's brief introduction, Tuvok offered a short poem translated from the Vulcan, "The Essence Continues," which, unlike his Talent Night offerings, was very well received. Gerron Tem, the young Bajoran science crewman, contributed the finale of the Bajoran Chant for the Departed which he had begun the previous night. He had taken only a few short rest breaks, as Megan Delaney had informed her, but Gerron was just now concluding it. Chakotay, as always, had a parable to tell, this one about the transformation of sisters into stars.
Tom spoke next. After a brief remembrance of one he had loved, Tom read from an ancient religious text that suited the occasion all too well.
"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to harvest;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to find, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Everything is beautiful in its own time. Eternity has been set in our hearts,
Although no man can see the whole scope of His work from beginning to end.
There were several others who said a sentence or two. B'Elanna Torres' tribute was one of these, consisting only of, "Farewell, my far-seeing and true friend." After this, Neelix gave a glowing tribute; and then, it was Harry's turn.
The captain had been dreading Harry's contribution from the time he had told her he had something he wished to present at the conclusion of the service. When it was his turn, Harry walked over to the wall of the garden courtyard which had been programmed on the holodeck to be the setting for the memorial service. As it had been hidden from her eyes before, the captain had not realized that Harry was going to play his clarinet for his concluding part of the program. The mellow notes drifted over the participants, bringing tears to the eyes of many. The tune itself was a merry one, but the undertone of mourning within it was palpable. Wise, wonderful, evanescent Kes. The melody fitted her perfectly.
When he finished, the captain gave her own short speech about always remembering Kes, the elf-like Ocampan woman with the never completely-tapped mental attributes and the warm, loving heart. Finally, it was over, and those in attendance drifted over to the tables, heavily laden with food, to share a last meal in honor of Kes.
"Captain, we'll be leaving now." Janeway turned away from her conversation with Chell to acknowledge Tom's statement.
"Fine, Tom. You have everything you need?"
"Yes, ma'am." His words sounded hollow. The serious events and the mood on the ship were having their effect on the young lieutenant. B'Elanna Torres stood a little behind him, solemnly nodding her agreement that they were ready, probably more than ready, to leave Voyager behind for a while. If anything, B'Elanna looked worse than Tom. The captain walked between them to the holodeck arch, a hand of comfort on each straight back.
"Are you both still willing to go through with this? We could send others who weren't so close to Kes and Harry."
"We need the supplies, Captain. Someone has to go," B'Elanna said simply.
"I feel the same way, Captain."
"All right, then. I notified the Telteskor traders and the Traveler's outpost about the reason for the delay in your arrival time. They were most sympathetic. Be careful, both of you. We'll be at the rendezvous point in five days."
A two person chorus of "Aye, Captain," sounded as the two young lieutenants exited the Holodeck and headed towards the Shuttlebay.
"Mr. Vulcan, I just have to say that your contribution was beautiful and will always be remembered by Mr. Kim and myself."
Tuvok accepted the compliment with his usual aplomb, suffering through Neelix's recitation of the virtues of all who had provided something to the remembrance ritual. "I haven't had a chance to tell Tom how lovely that piece he read was. Do you see him?"
"Mr. Paris has already left on his away mission, Mr. Neelix. He and Lt. Torres left over an hour ago. As it was, they had delayed their departure for several hours because of the service."
"Tom and Lt. Torres went on an away team, together, Mr. Tuvok?"
"I believe that is what I just told you."
"Who else went with them?"
"Just the two of them."
"Oh, dear. I'm not sure that was wise."
"I fail to see how the composition of an away team should be of any relevance to you, Mr. Neelix."
"It isn't so much about me, Mr. Vulcan, as it is about them. To have the two of them going off together at a time like this might create a lot of problems for . . . for the mission. A lot of problems." Neelix was becoming visibly agitated, Tuvok noted.
"Both Lt. Torres and Mr. Paris have been confronted with the loss of close friends before, Mr. Neelix. Mr. Paris, I believe, looks upon this mission as a way of dealing with the loss of Kes in a constructive manner, by being of service to Voyager."
The Talaxian did not even seem to have been listening to him. "Excuse me, but I need to talk to the Doctor with this news. I do believe that he will have concerns, too."
'How curious,' thought the security officer.
He thought it even more curious when the Doctor rushed over to him, along with Neelix, to confirm the trading mission. "I should have been informed about this mission, Lieutenant. There are some . . . existing conditions . . . that may have a serious impact upon Lt. Torres and Mr. Paris. Oh, Captain Janeway, Mr. Neelix and I need to talk to you. In private."
Tuvok raised a questioning eyebrow as his eyes met the captain's. After hurried negotiations, Captain Janeway adjourned to Holodeck Two with Tuvok, Chakotay, Neelix and the Doctor for the private conference.
"Lt. Torres is pregnant? Doctor, why haven't you informed me of this before?"
"It was at Lt. Torres' express request, Captain. I assure you, I had urged her to permit me to inform both you and Mr. Paris of her condition, but she refused to even consider it."
"Mr. Paris - of course, who else could be the father! Lt. Tuvok, you've been counseling Tom recently, haven't you? Is this the reason for the hard feelings arising between the two of them?"
"Captain, I do not believe that Mr. Paris has any idea of Lt. Torres' condition. He has been completely candid with me about his being unable to fathom why she has refused any and all overtures that he has made to reconcile with her. I very much doubt he would have concealed such an obvious reason from me."
"Captain Janeway, I'm sure Tom doesn't know about it. Lt. Torres accidentally dropped some padds in the mess hall, and when I saw that they were child care texts, well, I figured out what was going on. Because of that argument in the mess hall, I thought Tom might have been treating her badly, but when I mentioned that she should talk to him, she said she would . . . she said that I shouldn't say anything about it to anyone, especially Tom." Neelix hoped that the change of direction in his reply would not be noticed by anyone. He preferred not to have to explain about Lt. Torres' threat to space him if he told anyone. Although, now that he thought about it, maybe he should let it be known, just in case she was angry about his disclosure when she got back.
Commander Chakotay interjected, "One of you should have told the captain. Doctor, I would certainly have expected that this would fall into the area of the captain's 'need to know.' "
"And I would have told her, if Lt. Torres had given me the right to waive confidentiality in the matter. As it happens, there may not have been a pregnancy to be revealed within the next few days. She had an appointment with me for tomorrow for an abortion. One which, again, she will fail to keep."
"She had considered this option before?"
"This will be the third postponement, Commander."
The captain sighed deeply and covered her eyes with her hand as she walked away from the four male members of her senior staff. 'Oh, B'Elanna. So much strength, so much distance from your own feelings! Stubborn, self-reliant-to-a-fault, vulnerable B'Elanna. Such a heavy burden to insist on carrying alone. I would have talked to you, if you had only been willing to unburden yourself to someone!' Janeway stopped suddenly and pivoted back to the silently waiting men. "Doctor, did Lt. Torres spend much time with Kes lately?"
"I know they spoke on several occasions, but I was not made privy to the content of their discussions. Kes was aware of the lieutenant's condition, however. I had to inform her because she was to assist in the procedure."
Chakotay's eyes met the captain's. To top it all off, B'Elanna had lost her only confidante. "Captain, I recommend that we contact the Sacajawea immediately. If necessary, we can abort the mission."
Janeway grimaced at his choice of words.