Chapter Six Revelation

The Starfleet VIP hovercar turned onto the access road paralleling Crissy Field as the shuttle craft line came into view. Commander Kristine Fernandez motioned to Petty Officer John Chichester to slow down. "That one. The Sacajawea. Pull up over there, John."

"Yes, Ma'am.

Fernandez got out, along with Torres. Chichester picked up a suitcase and walked over to hand it to Crew Chief and Petty Officer Second Class Angelo Tassoni. He stowed it and walked around the ship, removing chock blocks and safety flags as his trained eye observed the area for foreign objects. Inside, Flight Engineer Lieutenant Diane Overdiek went over the pre-flight checklist while Senior Pilot in Command Lieutenant Commander Richard James filed the flight plan and talked with the control tower.

Kristine turned to B'Elanna and offered her hand. "I am sorry that things did not work out for Tom Paris, B'Elanna. But you did your best. And there was a bright spot in that your husband was found. You are going home to him and Miral. That is at least something positive."

The half-human woman shook the offered hand and indicated that at least she had that much. "Thanks for everything, Ma'am. I am sure that Tom will be well taken care of."

"Oh, you can be assured about that, Lieutenant. You know Starfleet takes care of its own. He will be treated with respect and dignity, the Admiral's son or no. Sorry but I have to go to a meeting. The never ending story of being an aide. John?"

Salutes were exchanged and Torres watched as the hovercar drove away, turning the corner and heading back to the main compound. "Anytime you are ready, Lieutenant." Petty Officer Tassoni had his hand out, ready to help B'Elanna aboard.

Torres paused to look about, taking in the view of San Francisco and the Presidio. Her eyes wandered as she saw people jogging around the field. Then her gaze fell upon that shuttle, the sleek one that had called to her so many months ago now. "Just a bit longer, if you don't mind. Tassoni, that shuttle craft over there. The one by itself. What is it?"

"That one, Ma'am? Why that's Admiral Paris' private shuttle. It's called the Delta Flyer II. He never takes it anywhere, however. Claims there is something major wrong with it so it has been mothballed. I mean, I've never seen anyone go near it. But we really need to get moving now or we will miss our time slot into L.A." He fiddled around with the comm cable leading to the ship's input/output jack.

Unnoticed at first, Torres turned away and started walking toward the Flyer. She started slowly but her pace quickened. Then she turned. "I won't be a moment. I really would like to check it out." B'Elanna picked up her pace once more into a jog. "I'll be right back."

Tassoni stared at her. "Lieutenant, wait!" Grabbing his comm cord button, he informed the pilot that Torres had just taken off across the shuttle field.

B'Elanna was running like the wind now, her three lungs and eight-ventricle heart pumping hard. And that song came back once more but this time she was singing it out loud. "I'm coming home, I'm coming home, tell the world I'm coming home. Let the rain wash away, all the pain of yesterday."

It took her about two minutes to cross the area and reach the craft. In that time several vehicles drove onto Crissy Field, to include a large security detail headed by Commander Tuvok.

She looked back at them and put her hand on the hull. It felt so comfortable to her. So warm. It was like she knew this vessel intimately, inside and out. They had been through so much together. There were wonderful memories associated with this ship. Somehow she just knew that. Like this was home. And then there was the feeling of trust. She trusted her.

Her hand searched for that black button. "Tom, you had better be right about this." Pushing it, she spoke into the speaker box. "Torres Alpha Three, Miral One, Paris Six."

"Lieutenant Commander B'Elanna Torres voice verified. Command verified." She heard a few gears turn and the access door opened. Jumping inside, it snapped shut and relocked, just as Tom told her it would.

The lights came on and she took in an interior she recognized immediately. Then looking out the port side pilot window she saw a small group of Starfleet security personnel running across the field. Now Admiral Paris drove up, along with Crusher and Troi. The handle jiggled and pounding soon began on the hull, as even more hovervehicles pulled up. A security perimeter was being established. Rear Admiral Wildman now arrived and she screamed into the rear voice box. 'Open up, Lieutenant Torres. Come on out. It's okay. We know you wanted to see the ship and now you have. You are going to miss your flight. Come on out.'

A vehicle she knew to be a facilities engineer truck pulled up and the crew began to unload a plasmatic cutting torch. It would take a while to set that up but B'Elanna knew they intended to chop through the hull, probably near the rear ramp.

She ignored that activity and looked around to find the maintenance box. Opening it, she took out the two hyposprays. They were there just like Tom told her they would. Now the ship was powering up and the helm console lights began to activate in sequence. The engineering work station powered on, its data being collected and displayed. Comms came on, as did full life support. Status lights went from red to amber to green.

Wildman turned to Admiral Paris in panic. "She's not replying to me, Admiral. Oh my God, he got to her! Paris got to her. We have got to stop her before it is too late!"

The Starfleet admiral picked up his PADD. 'This is Admiral Paris. Arrest my son immediately and bring him to the shuttle field in shackles. Contact Commander Janeway and have her comm Torres in the Delta Flyer. She trusts her and only she can save her life now.'

Inside the shuttle, Torres' brain was cogitating what she must do. First she had to inject herself. Then she had to remember the code from that song and then input it into the computer. Lastly, she had to fly this thing out of the shuttle bay and contact the flotilla. Or maybe just wait out there for the Marines the Doctor mentioned to do their thing. Grabbing the hypospray, she flipped off the safety cap and went to inject herself.

'Lieutenant Torres, this is Commander Janeway. Respond.'

B'Elanna stopped and looked at the helm screen. There was Janeway, big as life. Torres moved forward and sat in the pilot's seat. She looked at the console. Everything was operational. Tom had truly rigged the ship to power up once the door closed. Now she could hear the engines starting to turn and the ship was on autopilot. The entire start-up sequence was activating; she knew it intimately. Once that was done, all she had to do was take control and fly it like it was a test flight. She had done that so many times before in other shuttles.

'Torres here.'

'B'Elanna! Thank God! You haven't injected yourself, have you?'

'No, Ma'am. But how did you know I was….'

Janeway cut her off. 'We went over the session transcriptions, all of them. And we just talked with your husband, Max, about an hour ago. He is the one who provided the final piece to all of this. This puzzle all makes sense now. Don't you see it? None of this is what it seems to be.'

Torres winced and rubbed her neck. Of course it wasn't. Tom told her that. So did the Doctor. But she was not expecting what she was about to hear.

Janeway's voice was urgent and filled with concern. 'Tom is even crazier than we thought. When he was in Nexus all he did was dream about hating Max Burke. B'Elanna, think about your Academy days with Max and Tom Paris. Tom believes that Max stole you from him. He hates both of you. This is his ultimate revenge. That hypospray is filled with poison. You will die and Max then loses the love of his life forever. Miral loses her mother. Tom is so twisted! So wicked. I can't even imagine this. He has been saying he is married to you only so we could bring you here to help him. He wanted access to you. All he wants to do is kill you.'

Now B'Elanna's mouth hung open in shock. Oh my God!

'B'Elanna, this is Commander Troi. Listen to Commander Janeway. We have Tom out here right now and we will take care of him. You are safe now. Throw that thing in the disposal. It is sensitive and can go off. If you ingest it through breathing the vapor you will die! Don't take the chance, please!'

Torres was looking at the hypospray, being very careful to not activate the mechanism. 'But Tom would never hurt me! He said he loves me! And he loves Miral!'

'Lieutenant, this is Rear Admiral Wildman. He would kill you. He will. They are right. Listen to them. Don't do this. Think of your daughter! Think of Miral without her mother!'

Torres' mind was racing. Tom Paris wanted to kill her! So all of this was just an elaborate, twisted plot to murder her because of some Nexus fantasy of his about Max. This was so devious a plot. So coolly calculated and planned. It was definitely the product of a very sick mind.

'This is Doctor Beverly Crusher, B'Elanna. Tom Paris is psychotic and he is a proven killer. He killed people on Caldik Prime and then denied any wrong doing. And we have contacted the Orion. There is no ring in a grease pot in Engineering! It is a total fabrication of his and he made you think that by suggestion and using others to convey his message. Open the door now and come home. We have the security codes now that opened the door to the Delta Flyer. But it won't work without voice recognition. And he will not give up the key code to save us. Please! Listen to me!'

Torres was confused even more. 'Save us? From what?'

'This is Deanna Troi, B'Elanna. Tom is right, in a way. We now know that all of this is just a holodeck.'

'Are you saying Tom was correct? That this is just a holodeck?'

Troi spoke again. 'Yes. We were on a diplomatic mission to Antares X. Chief Pilot Tom Paris went nuts when we rescued him from Nexus after his shuttle got caught in there. We were treating him but he escaped into the ship and broke into Sickbay. You know he is medically trained. He flooded the place with Benzedrine and took over our minds. Then he reprogrammed everything and set up this holodeck. He is a master at creating holodeck programs. He even fooled you into shutting down the engines to keep us here and yes, we are near The Ribbon and Nexus. We are drifting towards it! With no outside comms and no one to help us! And why all of this? Because he wants you dead! But not by his hand!'

'But why? I've never harmed Tom Paris.'

The Betazoid psychiatrist now appeared on the viewer. 'It is because you turned him down when he proposed to you. He proposed to you at the Academy. You refused him and he has obsessed over it ever since.'

Torres looked at her wedding ring. But that was not possible! This was Tom's ring, the one he gave her. So he did replicate it! That bastard!

'B'Elanna, listen to me. You told him then that you were in love with Max Burke and had already accepted his proposal and were going to marry him. Then Tom found out after we rescued him that you had a child with Burke. Miral. Tom could not take any of this. He went even more insane and created this holodeck on Voyager. Then he just played out this story of his using all of us as pawns. He had only one purpose in mind. To have you kill yourself as the ultimate revenge. And thankfully we got to you before you did that. Come home, B'Elanna. Open the door before we have to cut you out of there.'

Torres stared at the console in front of her, the hypospray in her hand. Then she saw Tom outside the ship. He was being brutally beaten right in front of her. Other voices now came over the comms. 'Tell her, tell her it is all just a lie!' Tuvok was doing a mind meld on Paris, trying to open his mind.

Tom was in agony, fighting to stay in control but he was losing and B'Elanna knew it. Nothing could prevent Tuvok from probing his mind. 'No, it is the truth! B'Elanna, make it rain! For God sakes, use the hypospray! We are all going to die if you don't. We are nearing The Ribbon!'

This all came down to faith and B'Elanna knew that. But who could she trust? She trusted this ship. It had always taken care of her and held so many good if fuzzy memories. There was the Flight Engineer work station, the place where her fingers once flew in frenzy to put the warp core ejection command back online. She turned in the pilot's seat to regard the jump seat to portside, the one where a younger woman sat in stunned astonishment as a young man held her hand, looked into her eyes, and waited impatiently for her to answer a very important question. He was telling her to hurry because he might have to beg. 'Could be embarrassing,' he said. She smiled broadly; her body filling with warmth and happiness.

Her mind raced, looking for his name. Searching, her eyes were searching. But now she was searching for the name of the person who had always spoken the truth to her. Max, Miral, Tom, Chakotay. Even the EMH. All of their faces appeared but none of them could make her see and discover reality from illusion.

No. There was only one person. The one person she had always gone to and who was always there for her. Who cared for her like the sister she never had and who would talk to her and listen better than her father or even her mother ever did. Someone she shared her dreams with before getting married and had always given her sound advice.

Taking a leap of faith, she forced her troubled mind to gain just a modicum of control. The words she needed came back now, her Starfleet officer's discipline taking charge. Being within the Delta Flyer's familiar and comforting interior had a lot to do with her being able to do that. "Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander B'Elanna Torres of the USS Voyager. Verify voice."

"Voice recognized and verified."

"Place emergency priority call to Starfleet Headquarters, authorization Torres Beta Gamma Delta Six."

"Verified. Connecting to Starfleet Headquarters. State your party."

Her head was throbbing now and she rubbed her forehead ridges as voices screamed at her over another comms channel. "Rear…Admiral…Kath…ryn…Janeway, Deputy Chief of Staff for Starfleet Operations."

"Call placed. Directing, Priority One."

Tuvok was now insistent. 'Open the door, Torres. That is an order. You are not well. It won't matter what you do. We are cutting through the hull.'

Come on, Admiral! Where are you? Come on!

'Janeway.'

Thank Kahless! 'Admiral, this is…Lieutenant…Commander…B'Elanna Torres. Who is my husband?'

At Starfleet Headquarters, Janeway was stunned, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she motioned for her astonished aide to come over. 'B'Elanna! Is this really you? Where are you?'

'I think…I am…on Voyager. Not sure. Head hurts so much. Admiral, who…is my husband? This is…very important. Please…tell me.'

'One moment, B'Elanna.' Janeway turned to her aide. "Diane, contact Federation Marine Corps operations! Get General Prescott on the horn. Now! We finally have contact with Voyager!"

Turning back to her viewer, Janeway addressed Torres. 'B'Elanna, there is a battalion of Marines waiting outside Voyager but they can't get in. You are married to Tom Paris. Do you hear me? Tom is your husband and I should know more than anyone. I married you two, for God's sakes! I visited you in Sickbay after you gave birth to Miral in the Delta or Alpha Quadrant, we are not exactly sure. What is this all about?'

B'Elanna started crying, her shaking hands held up to her face. 'Rain. It is all about rain. Long story, Admiral. Tell you later. I love you! Tom and I love you so much! Thank you, Admiral. Oh God, thank you.'

Grabbing the hypospray, B'Elanna pushed it against her neck and activated the medication. She could feel the antidote go to work immediately and her mind cleared. Then through the front viewer she saw Tom lying in a heap on the ground and he was not moving. Everyone else had left, running for their lives because they knew what was coming next. Crusher had heard it all and shouted out the warning to get out of there.

Torres carefully opened the Flyer's access door and looked around. The coast clear, she ran over to her husband who was a bloody pulp. Carefully picking Tom up, she ever-so-gently carried him to the ship and then unceremoniously tossed him inside. She shrugged. He was out cold and didn't feel it anyway. After securing the door once more, she injected him.

Now the song came back to her right away and she knew what she had to say. What she had to tell the world so the force field would drop and the Marines could come aboard. "Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander B'Elanna Torres of the USS Voyager. Authorization Rain Robinson. I'm coming home."