The BLTS Archive - To Tell The Truth
#6e: M'Nea Madeleine
by melanie (melanie@skynet.ca)

---

"Their project is dwarf sunflowers?" Sam whispered to Neelix.

The trespassers were standing in the middle of Kieran and Kaatje's lab
staring at a large tub of short yellow and brown flowers sitting on
the middle of a low lab table.  They were the only things on the
table.

She picked up a padd of notes.  "They're developing a new strain of
dwarf sunflowers to produce seeds with double the thiamine and niacin
of regular sunflower seeds."

"Why?"

"I don't know."  She returned the padd to the bench beside her.  "Why
would they be so secretive about this?"

He handed her a padd he found on another bench.  "This might explain
why.  It has yesterday's date on it."

Sam glanced it over then groaned, her eyes closing and her head
falling limply back from her shoulders.  "They were doing a light
sensitivity test and I nearly ruined it."

"I don't understand."

Opening her eyes and straightening her posture, she handed him back
the padd.  "They're called 'sunflowers' because they follow the sun
around during the day.  It's a subtle movement, but it is observable
if you have the patience to sit there for hours and watch them.
Kieran and Kaatje were worried what they'd done to genetically alter
these plants had left them unable to photosynthesize well enough to
support such unnatural seed production.  The original plants don't
have such big seeds so they don't need to devote as much energy to
seed production as these plants will have to.  If the plants can't
handle it, Kieran and Kaatje are back at the drawing board."

"Why not just use the large version of the plants?  They'd be used to
growing such big seeds."

"I don't know.  There probably is some reason why they want them
small.  Easier to harvest certainly.  Perhaps the location where they
want to grow them gets a lot of wind and taller plants would be blown
over.  Any number of reasons.  Come on.  Let's get out of here before
someone catches us.  I feel silly enough as it is without having to
admit it to anyone.  Imagine me thinking they're up to something
nefarious.  It's just so embarrassing."

He nodded, sharing his discomfiture.

---

One the lab was empty again, Kieran, Kaatje, and their guest stepped
out of the next room where they had been watching the "visitors."
Kaatje stepped across to the door to the hall, checked outside to see
it was empty, and locked the door again, this time deadbolting it.

"What do we do now?" Kieran asked the third member of their party.

"Keep the clone underwraps for now," he was instructed, "and keep the
flowers in case those two or someone else gets curious again."

"Understood."

"I hope Tom Paris finishes what he's doing soon and gets back here.
I'm tired and anxious to get this finished so we can all rest."

"As are we all," Kaatje concurred.

---

Sunfire was concerned about Sunbird.  As she fretted over him, he sat
at the desk in his quarters, checked the vital signs she should have
been monitoring instead of worrying about him, then he started to
frown and consulted the Gherop database they had amassed.  She moved
from feeling concerned to disturbed when he called up the recording of
the rape and started watching it closely.  He already was pale and
always looked about ready to run for the nearest bathroom.  His
replaying it seemed foolish to her and self-torture.  Of course,
knowing him, self- torture was something he was prone to do.

"Sunbird, I don't think your watching this is wise."

"I have to."

"No, Sunbird, please-"

"There's something there."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Then you'll be sure to find it."  It was a lame joke and it deserved
the response she received -- none at all.

"I don't know what it is about this one, but something about her
readings.  It's making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up."

"That's never means anything good."

"No, it doesn't."

"So you think there's something wrong about what happened when the
holograms raped her."

He grew a little paler at the word "rape" but kept his seat.  "I don't
know.  There was something that struck me at the time as odd, an
impression of something, but I don't know what.  I just saw it again
in the readings."

"It was a rape.  Nothing special or creative really.  Three
belligerent monsters versus one cowering victim.  As for what you
might have just seen, she probably was thinking about it and
cringing."

"I don't...." Frowning, he stopped, returned the time index to the
instant the door to the glass structure had closed then checked an
entry in the Gherop medical database they had copied then slowly
watched the rape replay second by second.  When it reached the end, he
watched it again, this time at normal speed.  "I don't believe it."

"What?  What did you find?"

"She climaxed four times by my count."

"What?"

"During the rape, she experienced at least four separate and distinct
orgasms."  For Sunfire's benefit, he fast-forwarded to the relevant
time indexes.  "Here.  Here.  Here.  And here.  Her vital signs prove
it.  I didn't recognize it for what it was until I cross-indexed her
strange readings from a few minutes ago with the Gherop medical
database trying to figure out what was going on.  I knew I'd seen them
before and I was right.  Different species exhibit different signs
when they reach that point of climax during sexual intercourse and it
lasts for different lengths of time from species to species and
individual to individual.  These are the classic signs for a Gherop.
See?  The flushing here and here.  And the-"

"So she climaxed.  So what?  It does happen.  As much as evolved
species wish to think differently, their body's can experience
physical release even if their minds don't.  Basically, an orgasm is a
response to stimuli.  Friction brings blood to-"

"I know what the biological explanation for an orgasm is, Sunfire, but
there's something about the look on her face.  Especially here."
Again he fast-forwarded, this time to the point the holograms of the
attackers had finished with her, but moments before he himself had
appeared on the scene to "rescue" her from them.

"Sunbird-"

"I've seen a look a lot like it before.  A couple of times."  His
voice took on a far off sound.  "B'Elanna sometimes would get it after
we'd surpassed ourselves in the great sex department.  For a long time
I felt upset if she didn't have that look on her face after it was
over. I figured it hadn't been good enough for her even though she
said it was."

Sunfire did not want to hear about the hated B'Elanna Torres and her
and Sunbird's love life.  She had hoped now that they were permanently
away from Voyager Sunbird would get over his dalliance with that
"Klingon bitch" as she, in her jealousy, had come to call her. While
she knew there was no possibility of Sunbird and herself ever being a
couple in the Biblical sense, she still held out hope for the two of
them in the romantic sense.  Sure, it was very unusual.  Most people
claimed a captain's first love always is his, her or its ship, but
never in the literal sense.  She hoped to change that.  But only if he
forgot B'Elanna Torres and survived his plans for the immediate
future.

"Sunbird, this was rape.  I think you're grasping at straws, trying to
find an out so you won't feel the guilt you do for having arranged to
have done to her what you did.  It would be far easier for you to
start feeling better about yourself if you could just say: 'Yeah, I
did something awful, but it's okay because she didn't mind. In fact,
she got off on it so I can stop beating myself up for it.'  It's not
going to be that easy, Sunbird.  The chance that she did mentally as
well as physically get off on being raped is extremely slim.  She'd
have to be one Hell of a kinky soul to have enjoyed being violated
like that."

"But it is possible.  Remember that Klingon- What was his name?  The
one Bartoq was sent to get close to and ended up in the Infirmary for
two weeks after the Mission.  He was in a position of power just like
R'Co.  Not as high up as her, but the same idea.  He was heavily into
S&M and his Master didn't take kindly to Bartoq trying to take his
plaything away."

"That one was a slave because it released him from the pressure of
being in control and command all the time."

"So maybe it's the same story with R'Co.  What do we know about her
sex life?"

"She's reputed to have had quite the string of lovers.  There even
were some discreet rumours about her and her cousin T'Do.  The Gherop
do have a concept of incest, but second cousins are almost, but not
quite acceptable partners."

"What about her habits?  Turn-ons?"

"No actual data on that.  Just that there have supposedly been a lot
of lovers and they seem to disappear after she's finished with them.
Nothing unusual for a member of the ruling family of Gherop or many
worlds really.  You don't want discarded lovers hanging about,
potentially causing trouble for you.  Bragging about having had you
and whether you were good or not.  That kind of thing."

He frowned.  "I don't think this is going to work.  If I'm right and
she was not as wounded mentally as she was physically, she's not going
to be the least bit shaken by her experience therefore it's doubtful
she'll change her mind about how her people treat their slaves."

"And nothing will change."

"And yet more species will be wiped out when they try to rebel as the
Rachar did."  He closed his eyes and buried his face in his palms as
he leaned back in his seat.  "The Rachar can't have died in vain.
There has to be a lesson learned, some good has to come out of it."

"Sunbird, this is all supposition.  You might be wrong.  It's possible
she is just as shell-shocked as she appears."

"'Might be.'  'It's possible.'"  His hands dropped.  "What if I'm
right and she's not affected at all?  I didn't have as long with her
as I needed."

"We'll be in orbit of the Homeworld in less than a minute."

"Any evidence they've found our bugs."

"Not the bugs yet, but a couple of scientists have stumbled across the
'cosmic noise' from the transmissions to me.  I don't know how far
they'll get with figuring out what it really is.  Those who work with
them are lobbying for them to pack it in for the next few intervals so
everyone can join in the Ceremony festivities.  They've nearly
convinced one of them and the other seems to be waffling."

"Let me know either way."  Wearily, he rose.  "Back to it."  He re-
entered the holodeck where he had created a room for her to stay and
not have to worry about her wandering off and trying to access
Sunfire's systems.  A polite press of the announcer beside her
"quarters" door then he entered them.  "We're here, R'Co"

Not having moved from her chair while he had been gone, R'Co turned
her head to him and frowned.  "Where?"

"Your Homeworld.  Time for you to return to your people and start
enlightening them."

Her eyes slowly shifted from him and to her updrawn knees.

"R'Co?  That is your plan, isn't it?  To tell your people what you've
learned about how your people treat others?"

She did not answer and he became worried.

"If that *isn't* what you plan to tell them, what do you plan to say?"

She answered with a non-answer.  "How will I explain my absence?"

"The truth's always good."

"They won't believe it without proof."

"There's your word and they can check with the personnel at Mot-Ri.
They'll confirm your story.  It is doubtful anyone will admit to what
happened to you just before I found you.  Everyone there knows it goes
on but they turn a blind eye to it.  But the rest, they should admit
to it.  As long as whoever questions them about it is subtle and
discreet and doesn't tell them why he or she wants to know then the
truth should come out.  Have some minor clerk do the asking so it
won't make it sound like an official inquiry."

She nodded somewhat distractedly and he was not sure if she had heard
him.

"R'Co," he tried again, almost begging, "you have to do this.  You
have to change your people and your society.  You will be their Leader
in a few intervals.  You can lead by example.  Tell them what you have
learned.  Show them how to make things better for *all* of your
people, not merely the Gherop.  You can do this, R'Co.  I know you
can.  You are a strong person and soon to be their Leader.  You can
teach them how to be a better people."

R'Co's dark grey eyes flitted to his and in that brief instant he saw
what he had been hoping he would not see.  Without a word, he exited
the holodeck.

Once the door had closed behind him, he adjusted the parts per million
of the gas in the hopes she would be lulled into accepting his
arguments.  But the majority of him knew there was little hope left of
that.

"Have you thought about giving her an Implant," the ship suggested.
"We could strip it of all its AlphaOmegan commands and functions
except for the cloak and give it only one command -- for her to change
the Empire to be the way we want."

"Her brain's physiology would have to be closely studied then
simulations run and the Implant modified to properly work within her
brain.  That would take too long."

Sunfire went on with other ideas she had formulated only he did not
listen to any of them.  Throughout his discussion with R'Co, he had
watched her body language.  He had seen others who had been subjected
to torture and/or rape and she was doing a good job of imitating them,
but it was only an imitation.  Had she truly been what she was
pretending -- totally demoralized -- the look in her eyes would have
been different.  And he could not get out of his mind that look on her
face when he had "rescued" her.

*So much for your brilliant idea,* Camet sneered at him.  *You
compromised your precious principles.  You did to her something you
swore you never would do to anyone.  You wantonly tortured another
creature and it was all for nothing.  And you claim you're better than
we are.*

Realizing Camet was right and he was no better, Tom thought about
abandoning his plans.  Some part of his mind did not like that idea.
It punished him for thinking of quitting and for his impending failure
by taking him back to New Rachar when he had visited for the second
time.  Tom was there.  He could smell the burnt flesh and vegetation
so strong he could almost taste it.  He could hear the moans of pain
and the last gasps for breath by the dying.  Because of what had
happened, his soul was bleeding and it had to be cauterized.  He knew
there was only one way to do that -- admit failure of his plan and
take his only recourse.

"This isn't going to work," he whispered to himself.

"Sunbird, it still might.  Send her back to her people and see what
she does.  I'm sure she'll surprise-"

"You catalogued all of the ships in orbit?" he interrupted.

"Yes.  There were only a few more who had arrived since we last were
here."

"I want to see the cargo manifests," he said, walking towards his
quarters.

---

"We have searched everywhere, sir," the guard confessed to his
superior.  "We've used every piece of scanning equipment we possess.
Overturned every rock, checked out every worked-out section of the
mine, even searched outside of the perimeter and could find no trace
of her.  She's gone."

The commanding officer on Mot-Ri was not pleased to hear this in the
least.  "Assemble our personnel outside immediately."

"Yes, sir."

As his underling rushed off to call the formation, he himself sat on
the edge of his desk.  Still running through his mind was the thought
R'Co had been here and he was never going to see his family again.  He
had to figure out some way to salvage this.  He was going to see his
family again and no pampered official was going to threaten that.

---

The older Gherop shook his head at his younger companion who was
practically bouncing off of the walls of the cargo bay they were
supposed to be cleaning.  "The young are so excitable," he grumbled to
himself.  "So what if we're at the Homeworld and the festivities for
the Ceremony are set to begin in an interval.  It's not like we're
liable to be invited to any of them," he shouted to his colleague, now
somewhere on the other side of the bay.

"But we're here!" was the response.  "We're here where it's all going
to happen.  This is something we can tell our children."

"I don't have any children and you have about as much chance of
finding a mate and having children as you do of being invited to sit
at R'Co's right hand during the feast after the Ceremony.  You're a
low level cleaner, just like me.  Not exactly a great profession to
have if one is looking for a mate."

The young one reappeared from behind a stack of crates with his broom.
"But I won't always be a cleaner," he declared with the confidence of
youth.  "One day I'll be accepted into the soldier training and become
a soldier and then Captain of one of our ships and I'll have my pick
of mates and-"

The old Gherop laughed at him.  "Sure, sure you will.  And I'll be the
Leader of the Empire someday."

"But I will!"  So intent was he on what he was saying, he did not
notice what he was doing with his broom and its handle struck the
crate nearest him.

"Careful!"  He rushed over to grab the broom away from him.  "You know
what's in those crates?"

"No."

"Read the packing information."

He stepped around to the side of the crate, read the markings on it
then blanched.

"Exactly.  Now, come on.  We have more places to clean.  And this
time, be more careful."

They left the bay never noticing there was one less crate than there
should have been according to the numbering on the packing
information.

---

R'Co did not see her "saviour" again before she was beamed off of the
ship the next day.

He had contacted her to tell her she was going home immediately and
would be deposited in the hall outside of the Council Chambers where
T'Ne, N'Tra, and D'Itu were about to lay out their case against her.
After being told where the conspirators had hidden both the Crown
Jewels and the documents she supposedly had stolen, she was directed
to a box containing a collection of datacrystals laying previously
unnoticed by her on a table in the far corner of the room.
Maintaining the pretence of overwhelmed victim, she unfolded herself
from her chair, straightened her clothing, and went to the table for
the box. The moment it was in her hand, she felt a tingle and the room
around her changed into a familiar hallway.  She looked around and saw
a young clerk emerging from an office.  A beckoning gesture was made
to the younger female.  R'Co whispered an instruction in her ear then
motioned for her to go.  The young female nodded and scurried away.
The future Leader made her way around the corner and down the hall.

The two guards outside of the Council Chamber snapped to attention as
they recognized R'Co.  They opened the door for her, surreptitiously
giving each other inquiring looks behind their future Leader's back.
Each had heard of the test T'Ne claimed R'Co had set up for Security,
but they had not heard of anyone managing to find her yet.  They
dearly hoped some of their colleagues had found her and that was why
she was making a reappearance now.  The alternative was she had grown
tired of waiting for them to find her and if that was the case, some
heads were liable to be forcibly separated from their owners because
of the ineptitude of said owners.

Her muted clothing also was a bit of a shock to them too.  Everyone
had heard and seen R'Co's over-the-top outfits, but no one had ever
seen her in something as downright demure as the shapeless grey
garments she now wore.  Shrugging to themselves, they closed the doors
behind her and took up their posts once more.

---

"Sunfire, what did she say to her?"

The ship amplified the whispered instruction R'Co had given her
underling.

"Have internal security check for monitoring devices in D'Itu's and my
apartments and T'Ne and N'Tra's offices," R'Co had ordered.  "And
there should be a ship in orbit that they cannot identify.  It may be
hidden somehow.  They must find it and have it seized immediately.  I
will be in the Council Chamber.  Report to me there when they find
anything."

"They can't see us," Sunfire reminded him.

He nodded.  "Yes, I know.  Beam up the bugs.  You're still tapped into
their internal security?"

"Yes."

"Good.  Can you hear what's going on in the Council Chamber?"

"No, only see who's in there.  Apparently they don't want what's said
in the Council Chamber monitored by anyone, even their own people."

"Bug it then."

"Done and done."

He rose from his seat at the console in the cargo bay and approached
the weapon he had uncrated in advance of this moment's arrival.

"Sunbird, she still hasn't spoken to them yet.  It may be she's just
trying to verify your story.  If they found some bugs then they'd be
sure the recordings of T'Ne, N'Tra, and D'Itu were genuine."

"I can't risk them somehow tracing the technology back to the us or
Voyager."

"So what about them finding a programme hidden amongst their
programmes?  I know you resisted it before because they are too
thorough about monitoring their security programmes.  They'd get
suspicious if they suddenly found something after not having found it
previously.  What if I set up a programme that they could find and
made the explanation for them now finding it to be we're too close to
the Homeworld and it's feedback or something.  That would be
plausible."

"But to justify the feedback there would have to be a ship in orbit to
be too close the planet and that proximity causing the feedback."

"I could make it one of the ships that just arrived.  There are a
couple that arrived a few minutes ago.  I could beam a small receiver
unit onto some out of the way part of the ship where no one will find
it right away.  By the time they do, R'Co should be finished talking
and I can beam it back out before they can zero in on it completely.
Make it look like there was a proximity field that they crossed and it
destroyed itself."

Tom sighed.  "Fine.  Do it and we'll see if your right or I am.
You'll permit me to continue in case I'm right."

"Sunbird, you don't want to do this.  I know you don't."

"No, I don't, but if I'm right and she's not changed her mind about
anything, it's the only option left."

"For you to have your revenge."

"Yes," he admitted honestly then turned his attentions to the Final
Weapon he had stolen from the Gherop ship.

---

"And that is what we have uncovered," T'Ne finished then retook his
seat beside N'Tra and D'Itu.

"These charges you have made against R'Co are rather severe," C'To,
the Head of the Council began.  "This is all you have to substantiate
your claim?  An impression that R'Co reacted guiltily at being seen
reading documents that she had every right to read and later those
documents going missing along with she herself."

"And the Crown Jewels are missing too.  She was the only one to enter
the jewel vaults before myself."

"Actually the documents and the Crown Jewels are hidden in a box
marked "Utensils" in the disused storage room 3B in the sub-
subbasement," a voice said from the back of the room.  "Right where
*they* put them."

Everyone looked up as the woman they had been discussing approached.
She passed the box she held to the nearest Council member.

"Recordings of their plotting to have me removed from the throne
before I even reached it," she explained.  "The story that I was
testing Security by disappearing and expecting them to find me was a
lie.  The conversation in which they fabricated it is on one of those
crystals. Along with all the other conversations any combination of
these three have had regarding how they were going to get rid of me
and place D'Itu on the throne."

The eyes of the Council members turned to the three seated before
them.

"This is ridiculous," T'Ne scoffed.  "A X'Kri'Ri trick.  They somehow
found out we'd figured out the truth about R'Co and the reason for her
disappearance and they've created this 'evidence' to discredit us so
you won't be prepared when they attack."

C'To motioned to two of her junior clerks who rushed forward.  She
whispered something to them and they practically flew out of the room.
"We will listen to these recordings in a moment.  R'Co, please explain
where you have been if not hiding as part of some test or meeting with
X'Kri'Ri agents."

"I was kidnapped by a male whose face I never saw.  He took me out of
my bedchamber, surgically altered me to look like an Opaw then
deposited me on Mot-Ri.  I spent three intervals there, being treated
in the most abominable fashion before being rescued by a second male.
He never identified himself either, only told me he was after the one
who had kidnapped me and was going to return me here, which he did."

"How did this first male supposedly get you out?" T'Ne challenged.
"You were guarded and the windows and doors were monitored."

"I was beamed out."

T'Ne smirked  "Voyager.  I suspected as much," he informed the
Council.  "After what happened with T'Do, I had my suspicions they
were somehow in league with the X'Kri'Ri or another of our enemies and
that was why T'Do really died.  R'Co's own statement confirms I was
correct."

"I never said anything about Voyager, only that I was beamed up.  The
one who rescued me claims neither he nor the one who kidnapped me have
anything to do with Voyager."

"Do you honestly expect us to believe that?  No one else in this
sector has this beaming technology."

"But there are reports," C'To slowly began, "from merchant ships who
have come from other sectors that there are races who *do* have this
same technology.  Before he died, T'Do and myself secretly had been in
negotiations with a group of merchants regarding the obtaining of the
technical schematics for this technology in addition to a working
version to study.  Therefore, T'Ne, your assumption Voyager is
involved is only a mere possibility, not a probability."  She leaned
slightly back in her seat as the first of the junior clerks returned
and handed her a reader for the datacrystals.  "Thank you.  So, R'Co,
you say you have spent the passed three intervals as an Opaw and this
mysterious second male came and rescued you?"

"Yes," she nodded.  "I suggest one of your clerks discreetly contact
someone on Mot-Ri and ask.  They will remember me.  I made no secret
of who I was and what I was going to do to them once my identity was
proven."

"Inquiries shall be made," C'To informed them and she indicated to the
same clerk who had brought the reader to go and do as R'Co had
suggested.  He nodded his assent and rushed from the room

The other junior clerk returned to the room ahead of two guards.  The
clerk was out of breath and there was a restrained smugness about him.
He had never liked T'Ne, not since he had graduated from the same
clerical course as the Chamberlain and lost out on the top mark for
their class because T'Ne had cheated.  He never had been able to prove
this was the case, but he had had his suspicions.  "We found them
precisely where R'Co said they would be," he informed C'To.

"Because she obviously put them there," T'Ne argued.

"I was told they were there."  R'Co turned to the lone female amongst
the conspirators.  "By you N'Tra.  When you were telling your superior
and your lover why where you were going to hide them was so safe.  I
listened to the recording of the conversation."

"We certainly are not lovers," the Chamberlain spluttered.

"Not you and her.  Her and my dear cousin D'Itu, who isn't nearly so
stupid as he makes out."

D'Itu tried to affect his most dim-witted visage, but the Council,
most of who had taken a distinct antipathy towards him the moment they
had been formally introduced to him, watched him suspiciously.

For her part, N'Tra exhibited no reaction.  She had kept her mouth
closed up until this point as she waited for the situation to play
itself out.  As always, she had a few tricks up her sleeve and was
waiting to see if they would be necessary to be played.

"But none of this matters now.  Once the Council has listened to the
recordings and they hear from Mot-Ri, they will see I'm telling the
truth."

The young clerk to whom R'Co had spoken in the hall appeared at her
side accompanied by N'De, the Head of Internal Security.  Pointedly,
R'Co ignored N'De in favour of the clerk.  It had been his lax
security that had permitted her kidnapper the chance to take her.  She
had every reason to be angry with him and demonstrated such by
motioning for the clerk to report their progress, not him.  Once R'Co
had listened to the whispered answers, she smiled in a most satisfied
fashion at T'Ne then at the clerk.

"Good, now I can speak freely.  As a further piece of corroboration, I
offer the fact that not only had the programme that was doing the
monitoring and recording of these conversations been discovered, but
also the ship that is receiving those transmissions is in orbit."  She
glared at N'De.  "You will intercept that ship and bring all aboard
before me.  It *is* safe to assume that when you neutralized their
monitoring programme, you kept track of which ship it was going to?"

"Of course, R'Co," he assured.

"Good.  Get them.  And I want them alive.  They will have a lot of
explaining to do before their execution.  I'm thinking a nice
execution will be a nice inclusion in the Ceremony.  Symbolic of
eliminating all enemies of the Gherop Empire.  A presage of what is to
come."

"You are getting a little ahead of yourself," the Head of the Council
admonished.  "There still are charges set out before this Council,
charges that if proven will mean you will not become the Leader after
all."

"And they will be proven to be false charges."

"We shall see."  She motioned to the councillor who had received the
crystals from R'Co.  "First we shall hear these."  She looked at N'De
who was hesitating about what to do.  R'Co had given him an order, but
after what C'To had just said he clearly did not know whether he was
to obey R'Co or not.  "You may go and carry out the instructions.
Report back to us here when you are done."

He nodded and left.

---

"'Presage of what is to come?'" Sunfire quoted.  "That can't be
anything good.  So much for her having learned anything from all
this."

Tom slowly straightened from examining the Final Weapon and went to
his seat at the cargo bay's console once more and sat.

"But maybe it's just an act," she hurried to suggest when she realized
what she had said backed up his opinion of the situation.  "Maybe
she's just trying to be fierce because that's what they'd expect."

He began keying in instructions.  "You know that's wishful thinking."

"I know, but think about what you're about to do," the ship begged
him, for his own sake as much as the Gherop who were about to lose
their lives.

"R'Co's left me no other option.  She had her chance to change things,
but she's not going to do that evidently."

"But, Sunbird, there still has to be another way.  We've talked about
this before.  If you do this, the Gherop will just go after their
enemies thinking they were responsible.  Millions more will die.
Innocent bystanders.  Can't you just, I don't know, do something
else?"

"I would love to," he burst out.  "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

She was at a loss for a moment.  "I... I don't... Well, something that
won't cost lives, that's for sure, but still get your point across."

"This would get the point across to the Gherop who survive on the
other worlds."

"But those who don't die today will go elsewhere and establish a new
homeworld as a base of operations and declare war on everyone around
them."

"*Go* elsewhere," he repeated softly.

"Yes.  They'll find out their Homeworld is gone and pick another one
and -"

"*Go* elsewhere."

"Sunbird, why are you repeating yourself?"

Ignoring her, he pulled up the information he was looking for in the
Gherop database they had amassed.  "Where's that... Here."

"Here, what?"

He accessed the helm controls and gave her the heading and maximum
speed then engaged.

It took her a full five more seconds before she figured out her worst
fears were not about to come true.  Only she could not quite figure
out what was until ten minutes later when they were in orbit of Mining
Station 189, a tiny, barren planet whose only interest to anyone was
the crystals that the Gherop used to power their ships.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

He smiled a genuine smile.  "Making sure the Gherop can't *go*
anywhere else for a while."

"What?"

"Access the computers of the mine complex."

"It's barely a complex.  And frankly, the computers are a few steps up
from an abacus.  I'm in though.  What do you want to know?"

"How many on the surface?"

"Fifty-one.  Nine Gherop.  The rest are slaves.  Exactly what my
sensors say."

"Fine.  They have an evacuation alarm?"

"There is an EVAC plan, yes."

"Let me guess, Gherop go, slaves stay?"

"Yes."

"I thought as much.  How many can that shuttle on the surface hold?"

"Ten at most."

Frowning, he sighed.  "Obviously meant only for the Gherop, not the
slaves.  Okay, change of plan.  Transport the Final Weapon to these
co- ordinates."  Tom jumped up and rushed out of the cargo bay.
"Begin transporting the slaves to the hold.  Start with the ones who
are farthest from the Gherop on guard duty and work your way through
the rest.  I don't want the Gherop knowing what's up until it's too
late."

"Aye, sir."

Reaching the Bridge, Tom seated himself at the Helm and monitored the
growing number of confused aliens materializing in the cargo bay.

"The Gherop are about to start noticing in a moment."

"Okay, hit the EVAC alarms.  The Gherop should make a run for the
escape craft and not notice the slaves vanishing.  Keep beaming up the
slaves until they're all up."

---

"What's going on?" one Gherop guard asked another they sprinted
towards the small shuttle on the landing pad nearby their quarters.

"Don't know," was the response.

"Has to be something catastrophic," a third guard panted, drawing on
his jacket as he came alongside them.

"Yes, but what?"

"Don't ask me.  I was asleep."

"Get in!" their superior yelled, standing to one side of the shuttle
hatch's doorway.

"What's going on?" the first guard questioned when he was strapping
himself into his seat.

"Don't know and don't care.  If it's a false alarm, fine.  We'll deal
with it later.  If it's not, then there won't be a later to deal with
it if we don't get off of the surface.  Is that everyone?  Fine, let's
go."

---

On the surface, the klaxons continued to ring out.  The Gherop, who
had been fully briefed on the function of the base's systems, had
known, after an instant's pause to identify the sound, what the
meaning of the alarm had been.  The slaves, however, certainly had not
been "briefed" on anything and they stood, watching as their masters
ran away and those around them continued to disappear a few at a time.

Soon none were left on the surface to listen to the cacophony.

---

"Time to detonation?"

"Three minutes, Sunbird."

"All in?"

"We have a full house in the cargo bay."

"Good, let's go."

---

"So now what?" the first guard pestered.  "We just sit out here
looking at it?"

"I could think of better things to look at," the guard in the next
seat complained.

Their superior turned his seat and sent them a silencing look.  "We
wait until the nearest ship in the area responds to our hails.  Sorry
it's not a more appealing sight for you.  Perhaps you'd rather be back
down on the planet with the slaves?"

There was a gasp from the guard at the sensor's station.  "What
the...?  Back us off!  Back us off now!"

"What is it?"

"Just do it!"

"Helm, back us off."

"Way off.  The next system off."

"What?"

As he consulted the sensor readings and saw why the urgency, the
planetoid behind them exploded.  Though they already were moving away
from it fast, the force of the Final Weapon's detonation sent them
hurtling even faster out of the system.

The only thing they registered in the confusion that followed was a
ship suddenly becoming visible a few hundred kilometres from their
position and a message suddenly appearing in their databanks, a
message that explained why this had happened.

---

"Bull's eye!  How are you?"

"I'm fine," Sunfire answered distractedly.

"What is it?"

On the main viewer, she showed him what had caught her attention.
There, hurtling out of control, was a New Kildarean shuttle, the
Connacht.

"I'm reading two life signs."

Any other pilot would not have been able to pull off what Tom Paris
did seconds later.  Not only did he manage to catch up to the shuttle,
but he also was able to use the tractor beam in quick bursts to slow
the Connacht and right it.  Sunfire had seen him do it before, but she
still was impressed.

"Vitals?" he questioned, locking on the tractor beam and drawing the
damaged shuttle in close.  He extended Sunfire's shields out around it
as well as the cloak so neither the Gherop shuttle nor the Gherop ship
in the distance could see it, if they had not already.

"They're a bit banged up, but other than that, okay."

Tom was up and out of his chair in an instant.  "Beam them to Sickbay
and go on to Uata Homeworld."

When Tom reached Sickbay, it was a toss up who was going to faint
first -- the injured patients who had just been tossed about the cabin
of their shuttle or the medic coming to treat them.  The latter
literally had to lean against the doorframe or fall over from shock.

"Hi," Stephane groaned, standing braced against the biobed and holding
his aching head in one hand.

"Hi, Tom," Maaike greeted in an equally pained voice.  She was seated
on the bed and leaning against Stephane for support in staying
upright.

"What the... What the Hell are you two doing here?" Tom sputtered.

Even with Stephane as a prop, Maaike could not keep up the effort of
vertical life and slid sideways behind him.  Wobbling himself, he
moved to one side so Tom could treat her first.

"Explain later.  Stephane, sit over there."

The New Kildarean looked in the direction Tom was pointing.  "Over
where?"  His eyes boggled as a chair slid out of the floor.  "How...?"

"Sunfire's special," was Tom's only explanation.  "Take a seat.  I'll
look after you in a minute.  Maaike, hold still.  You have a
concussion."

---

"So you've heard this rumour about an Opaw causing trouble here too?"
the commanding officer of Mot-Ri asked the clerk from the Homeworld.
"A passing ship mentioned this to me and I had one of my people try to
figure it out.  I certainly had not received any such reports as I was
hearing about from the captain of the ship.  Neither had any of my
people.  In fact, we checked and we don't even have any Opaw here at
the moment.  The last one we had died a season ago.  We even checked
with the transport ship that brings out shipments of slaves and they
haven't brought any Opaw in the last four shipments so we can't figure
out where this weird rumour came from.  Where'd you hear it?  Maybe we
can narrow it down from your end."

"I'll look into it," the clerk evaded.  "So no one claiming to be R'Co
has been there?  Even a non-Opaw?"

"None.  Sorry."

"Thank you."

When the screen went blank he heaved a sigh and relaxed.  Hearing from
the Homeworld had clinched it for him.  Clearly the Opaw had been R'Co
in disguise for some bizarre reason.  He felt vindicated in all the
effort he had gone to in purging the databanks of every reference to
the Opaw's having been there and telling his people to keep their
mouths shut about her.  He had impressed upon them the potential
hazards in the slim chance she had been telling the truth.  None of
the guards wanted to see how vicious R'Co could be, *if* she was R'Co
and tried to make good on her threats, something he now knew had been
a distinct possibility.

Until now.  He still had no idea what she had been up to, but that no
longer mattered.  Since the Homeworld appeared to be trying to verify
her whereabouts for the passed few intervals, it appeared R'Co was in
a spot of trouble herself.  With what he had said, there was every
chance she would not be getting out of that trouble, whatever it was,
and they might just be safe themselves.  He hoped.

---

"We have discussed the evidence before us," the Head of the Council
announced once R'Co and the others had been given permission to the
Council room following the Councillors' private deliberations.  "And
we have just heard from Mot-Ri."

"And they verified my story," R'Co said with supreme confidence.

"On the contrary.  They claim they haven't had an Opaw there in four
seasons."

The confidence turned to outrage.  "What?  They're lying.  I was
there."

"We are examining his speech patterns to see if he was lying.  Some
parts of his story don't fit and-"

The doors burst open and the Head of Internal Security burst in, out
of breath.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?"

"Mining Station 189," N'De gasped, proffering a datacrystal.  "It just
was destroyed."

R'Co snatched the crystal from him and inserted it in the reader on
the Council table.  The details of the event appeared on the screen
then a message began to play.

"This world was destroyed by one of your own Final Weapons," the voice
said.  "It was done because R'Co was given a simple instruction and
she did not carry it out.  She was to enlighten her people about the
true conditions of slavery and end its practice in the Empire forever.
Since she failed to do this, you have lost Mining Station 189.  For
those of you who are unaware of its significance in your lives, you
soon will find out when your ships cease to have the power to go
anywhere.  Then you should remember R'Co is who you have to thank for
this and her refusal to end slavery is why.  Consider this repayment
for your atrocities against the Rachar."

"That is the one who kidnapped me," R'Co insisted.

"That message is making its way throughout the Empire," N'De informed
everyone.  "With the exception of yourselves, everyone on this planet
or on the ships in orbit heard this message when it was first
broadcast and even now it's making its way to other worlds.  Somehow
he tapped into all of the computers on our world and broadcast it to
the people and the rest of the Empire.  Since there aren't any in
here, I knew you wouldn't have heard it yet."

"What is so important about this Mining Station 189?" one of the
Councillors inquired.

"It is one of the two main sources of fuel for our ships," T'Ne
answered quietly.  "The other source is almost mined out.  Our ships
have been searching for another, but have not found any with the grade
we need.  Most of what they've found is impure and its yield as a fuel
is considerably less."

"Are you saying that when the fuel currently aboard our ships and from
that other source are gone, our people will be stranded wherever we
are?  No more travelling anywhere?"

"Not interstellar, no.  The old methods of travel will still be
available, but to journey to the next system will take a season or
more, not moments as it does now."

"This is intolerable."

"We don't even know that this is true," C'To soothed.  "Have it
independently verified and-"

"Already done.  For some reason, the evacuation alarms went off before
the detonation and our people were able to escape on the emergency
shuttle.  They were picked up by the T'Ar, a troop ship that was
passing through in the area.  They saw the entire thing and
corroborate the story of the planet blowing and the ship being
disintegrating."

"What ship?  I thought you said the T'Ar picked up the shuttle."

"They saw a small ship not far from the planet when it blew.  It was
only there for an instant then it was gone."

T'Ne narrowed his eyes at him.  "Did they actually say 'disintegrated'
or did they say 'gone?'"

"Uh, 'gone' I think.  What difference does it make?  We have bigger
problems at hand than how someone phrased something."

"Voyager or Sunfire," R'Co and T'Ne said in unison.

C'To was surprised to hear the two enemies agreeing on anything, but
did not show it.  "What leads you to think they are involved?"

"There one instant, gone the next," R'Co explained.  "That is one of
their tricks.  Some of the technology they possess."  She turned to
N'De.  "Our ships are still out searching for Voyager, yes?"  R'Co
tilted her head to glare at the Chamberlain.  "Or is that something
else T'Ne had dispensed with while he was trying to dispense with me?"

"The search continues," the Head of Internal Security admitted warily.

"Good.  Tell them to join the T'Ar in checking out the area where
Mining Station 189 was.  Voyager or Sunfire, whichever one it was they
saw, probably was damaged if they were able to see her for that
instant.  Perhaps they left a trail they can pick up.  But tell them
to find them and fast.  And take them in one piece.  Their propulsion
system is different than ours.  We might be able to adapt their
technology to our own uses and find a new fuel supply before ours runs
out."

"Yes, R'Co."

"Hold on," D'Itu argued, abandoning all pretence of stupidity.  "This
may all be part of -"

The Head of the Council leaned away from the clerk to whom she had
been listening with one ear and overruled his objection.  "Carry on,"
she instructed N'De who rushed from the room, the guards outside
closing the doors behind him.  "The results of the truth test are in
and he was lying about not having had an Opaw there recently.  On the
basis of that, we have decided not to remove R'Co from the line of
succession to the throne."

R'Co gave the conspirators a smile promising retribution very soon.
It was wiped off of her face when the capsule N'Tra tossed onto the
floor by R'Co's feet popped and noxious fumes suddenly gushed from it.
Within seconds N'Tra and D'Itu were the only ones left standing.

"Don't I always take care of everything?" N'Tra asked her dumbfounded
lover, as the fumes dissipated as quickly as they had appeared.

"But they're dead," he gasped.  "How come we're not?"

"Remember the juice I gave you this morning and insisted you drink?
It had the antidote in it.  There was no way we could die."

He sighed and smiled.  Then he remembered the dead bodies all around
them.  "How are we going to explain this?"

"Go open the window.  The big ones leading out to the balcony.  Open
them, but don't go out yet."

As he did so, N'Tra went around the table to stand behind the late
Head of the Council.  Taking one of the female's hands, she laid it on
the open box of datacrystals and tugged.  The box was jerked off of
the table and fell to the stone floor, crystals shattering.
Immediately, she ran off to D'Itu's side and the two of them were out
on the balcony, out of sight when they heard the doors at the other
end of fly open and the two guards rush in, drawn by the sound of the
crash.  When they alarm was given a few seconds later and the guard
came out through the open windows to search for those responsible.
All they found was N'Tra pulling D'Itu into a clinch and him resisting
it.

At hearing the sound of boots on the stone balcony, N'Tra "guiltily"
broke away from her lover.  "Congratulate us," N'Tra beamed.  "We're
to become mates."

"I think the joining ceremony will have to wait," one of the guards
said slowly.  He gestured for them to look inside.

The instant they did, N'Tra let out a scream and clung to D'Itu.  "She
did it.  I can't believe she actually did it.  Why didn't we listen to
T'Ne?" she wailed.  "He said R'Co was dangerous and suicidal after
having been kidnapped and tortured, but no one believed him.  Now
she's dead and she took them with her."

"R'Co did this?"

"I wondered what that thing was when I saw her toying with it
earlier," she cried, pointing to the broken capsule near R'Co, "but I
forgot it when the Council announced R'Co was being removed from line
of succession because of what had just happened with Mining Station
189. Her role in causing it and that they thought there was more than
she or that mysterious voice were saying.  I knew she'd be irate, but
then D'Itu asked me to come out on the balcony to ask me something and
I forgot all about her because I was too busy saying yes to his
proposal."

"Actually," D'Itu said, removing himself from her grasp, "that's not
what happened at all.  Arrest her for murder."

"What?!" N'Tra shouted as the guards restrained her.

"She dropped that capsule, not R'Co.  She has this crazy idea that if
she eliminated everyone between the throne and myself then I would
take her as my mate and together we would rule the Empire.  Just now,
out there on the balcony, she told me she's been responsible for the
assassinations of most of my family.  Gloated about it and about how
she'd planned all this."  He gestured to the bodies around him.  "I
want her taken to the darkest, dankest cell you can find until her
trial.  She will pay for what she's done."

The guards nodded.

"And have medics get here immediately.  Obviously there's nothing that
can be done for them, but still, formalities.  If you don't mind, I'd
like to be alone with my cousin to grieve."

They dragged N'Tra out of the room though her screams lingered for
sometime afterwards.  Their echo was not enough to erase the satisfied
smile from his face.  He had done it.  He was now the Leader of the
Gherop.  True, they did have quite the problem looming ahead of them,
but he would handle it.  And once they had Voyager they no longer
would have any problems.  He was certain of that.

He gave not a thought to his now former lover and co-conspirator.

---

Fresh from their showers and in cleaned clothing, Stephane and Maaike
stepped onto the Bridge to hear Tom say goodbye to the alien visage on
screen.

"What's going on?" Stephane asked once the main viewer was black.

"We're offloading our passengers into their new life."

"What passengers?  Us?  But we-"

"Not you two."

Maaike laid a hand on Tom's shoulder and leaned over a bit to try to
read the console.  The characters were unfamiliar to her never having
seen AlphaOmegan standard before.  The starchart however was perfectly
legible.  "We're outside of Gherop space already?"

"Sunfire's rather faster than ordinary ships.  To answer your
question, Stephane, the passengers are the now former slaves in the
cargo hold. The Uata, the people on this planet, are willing to
welcome them into their society until such time as they can be
returned to their respective homeworlds.  That will be a while.
Sometime after the Gherop have used up the last of their fuel supplies
and no longer can go about enforcing their rule over the worlds in
their grasp."

"What do you mean, running out of fuel?"

"That planetoid that just blew up was one of their two main sources
for fuel for their ships.  Once the other sources are mined out-"

"The Gherop are stuck."

"Exactly.  When that happens, the Empire will collapse and the other
species can go in and retake their homeworlds with little difficulty.
Their reign of terror is over."

"That's the last of them," Sunfire announced.

"And their collars?"

"Disintegrated.  It's obviously been a long time since they had them
off.  Quite a few of them are still rubbing their necks to see they're
not there."

Stephane frowned.  "What are these collars?"

Tom did not look up from the readings he was checking.  "Behaviour
modification devices.  They are used to deliver pain to the wearer at
the discretion of the guards.  They're free now so they no longer have
any need for them and Sunfire removed them from each one as she beamed
them down to the surface.  There.  That's the last of that."

"Of what?"

"Word has leaked out that some Rachar slaves escaped the destruction
of Rachar and the news is giving renewed enthusiasm to the other
rebellions against the Gherop.  So to help them along, we've
transmitted to the Uata here, and a couple of other worlds in the area
who are aiding the rebels from outside Gherop territory, a copy of the
Gherop database we had amassed."  He smiled.  "All sorts of classified
information that would be of use to anyone wishing to further sabotage
the Empire.  With that and the Gherop fuel supply soon to run out, the
rebels have a better chance than ever of freeing themselves.  But that
is of no concern to us now.  There's nothing more we can do except
fight their battle for them and we can't do that.  I have my own
battle to fight," he muttered to himself then shook his head and
addressed his guests once more.  "We'd better get you two home.
Sunfire?"

As the ship took over piloting for him, Tom turned his attention to
their unexpected guests.  He swivelled his chair towards them as two
more seats appeared out of the floor behind the pair.  Automatically,
they sat down and Tom said nothing for a long time, instead watching
them through narrowed eyes.

"You took the schematics for Sunfire's cloak and adapted them to work
on your shuttle.  That's obvious.  As for why we didn't see you... You
figured out some way around our sensors.  Some flaw we don't know
about?  You found it and exploited it so you could see us, but you
made sure we could not see you.  That's how you managed to trail us
even though we've been cloaked since we left New Kildare.  Stop me if
I'm getting any of this wrong."

"Actually," Maaike started, "we didn't find any flaw.  Didn't have to.
The module Maire supplied you with, the one to upgrade your sensors,
it's linked to the one in our shuttle.  We knew where you were all
along."

Tom's jaw clenched.  "You mind explaining why the Hell you three felt
it necessary to do that?"

"We were worried about you, Tom," Stephane confessed.  "You wouldn't
tell us what you were up to, but it was obvious it was something
dangerous and we wanted to help."

Maaike sighed.  "Only we were the ones who needed the help in the end.
Thanks, by the way."

The pilot continued to stare at them for a while longer then shook his
head.  "I know you three meant well, but you two nearly got yourselves
killed.  I told you I could handle this and I did."

"But we-"

"But you weren't sure and wanted to help, yes, I know."

"We can't say we're sorry, Tom," Stephane shrugged, "because we're
not.  We'd do it all over again you know."

Tom sighed heavily.  "I know.  It doesn't matter.  No harm done.  Come
on.  Let's get you something to eat."

The New Kildareans stood and stretched.

"It's so good to be out of that shuttle," smiled Stephane.  "It's so
cramped in there."

"It's so good not to have to spend any more time stuck in there with
you."  Maaike sent Stephane an evil grin.  "That was torture."

"Hey, torture would have been you being alone with Niels."

"You're right.  I love my brother, but cooped up with him for a few
days and I probably would have killed him."

"Me, she just bruised a bit."

"I did not!"

As the three of them left the Bridge for the Mess Hall, Sunfire saw
Tom smile slightly at his friends' antics.  His posture was a little
more relaxed now she realized and wished it would stay that way though
she knew it would not.  Once the New Kildareans were returned home, he
would wait until the new Vanguard was completed and the clone ready to
go then he would take them off to the Alpha Quadrant to seek his
revenge on The Protectors and probably die in the process.

---

The crew of the T'Ar were silent as they went about their duties.
They could not believe what they had seen happen to Mining Station 189
or what it meant for them and their future as a spacefaring race.
When he had received his instructions from the Homeworld to search the
area for the trail of the ship they had seen, I'Ra, the captain of the
T'Ar, had ordered his people to focus on their work.  That order was
what kept them moving instead of sitting in their chairs, staring
dumbfounded at nothing.

"Captain?" called a young female from one of the science stations.
"The sensors indicate they stopped very briefly at Uata then continued
on."

The First Officer standing by the helm looked up.  "Do we stop and
interrogate them, Captain?"

"No, E'Di," I'Ra dismissed.  "Our orders are to find those ships and
capture them, not start a war with the Uata or any other race outside
of our territory.  Once we've captured Voyager and Sunfire, then we'll
come back and investigate here.  Go on after those ships and have our
ships and pilots on standby.  If we do find them, I want them ready to
launch immediately."

---

"-And they say he's bringing them back," Maire finished.

"Fine.  Go on with the next step."

Maire nodded and left the O'Connell house.

"This will work," the O'Connell's guest assured them.

"I hope so," Oran sighed.

"All we can do," his wife comforted, "is set it up and let things take
their course.  If it works, it works.  If not, we'll just have to try
something else."

The guest took the O'Connells by the hand and echoed her previous
comment.  "It will work.  Now you two need to get ready for dinner."

---

The C'Cri received the message from the Homeworld same as every other
ship in the fleet and their reaction was much the same as the crew of
the T'Ar.

"This information makes little difference now," E'Cta informed her
crew.  "Our mission has not changed.  We continue on after Voyager."

"The long range sensors show their trail leading towards a dust
cloud," R'Eti announced.  "It's well outside of Gherop space."

"Doesn't matter.  Follow it wherever it leads.  We must capture
Voyager.  Not only will we redeem ourselves after having permitted her
to escape us, but we will be hailed as heroes for bringing home the
ship that will save our people from our impending fuel shortage."

"But, Captain, we didn't know they wanted Voyager in the first place
and our ship's in such ill-repair so it's not our faults for her
getting away."

"As I've said before, that won't matter.  They'll still blame us.
Catching her now will prevent that.  Helm, continue on.  R'Eti, you
have the Bridge.  I'm going below to see how repairs are coming.  Let
me know the minute we have her on long range sensors."

---

"You'll like this restaurant," Maire assured them, following the
hostess leading the small party of four towards their table.

At the rear of the procession, Harry quietly was doing his best to
convince B'Elanna that everyone did need this break and she should
relax.

On the day they had arrived at New Kildare, it had taken most of the
day to brief the OPRF people on the Intrepid class of starship, the
Gopher Hole, and what had to be done to Voyager to make her ready for
the trip.  Once everyone had been brought up to speed, they and the
Voyager engineers and anyone else they could recruit from the other
departments on the ship were split into teams and the work had begun.

That had been three days ago.  With the added assistance of the
skilled staff at OPRF and round the clock shifts, the work was a well
over half finished.  The next morning, the biggest of the tasks before
them was to be started -- adding in the yatelite matrix to the
existing propulsion system.  Once it was begun, there would no rest
for them for the next four days.  Thus Maire's suggestion --
wholeheartedly backed up by the Captain -- that everyone involved with
the modifications forget about Voyager for the night and go relax.

Some of the crew went off sightseeing on what currently was the day-
side of the planet.  Others headed to New Roscommon where a large
ceildh was being throw in the capital city.  Still more shied away
from the large party, in favour of smaller ones their OPRF
counterparts or other New Kildareans they had met were hosting.  This
was the case with B'Elanna and Harry.  Maire had invited them to join
her and her colleague/boyfriend, Declan, at their favourite
restaurant.  B'Elanna, who had been loath to stop the work in the
first place, had conceded only because this time away from Voyager
would give her an opportunity to talk to Maire.  Tonight, she hoped
she could at last get the woman alone to make her request without
someone interrupting or overhearing her request and telling the
Captain.  Despite the Captain's assurances they would go to New
Kildare once they were through here, she was becoming anxious every
day because each one that passed was one more day something could
happen to Tom.

Her chance finally came half an hour later when Maire excused herself
to visit the ladies' room.  As usually happened with females,
regardless of species, the pack mentality regarding public bathrooms
came into play and Maire looked to B'Elanna to silently ask if she
were coming too.  She instantly rose and followed her hostess.  Two
metres from the table, B'Elanna gripped her arm.

"I want to talk with you in private."

"I can't guarantee the ladies' room will be empty, but we can talk
there," Maire agreed.  "What's on your mind?"

"I want to borrow a ship."

"A ship?"

"A long range one."

"Whatever for?"

"I can't take one from Voyager or the Captain will notice, but I want
to go to New-"

A flash of purple caught the Chief Engineer's eye and she stopped.
Stopped speaking.  Stopped moving.  Stopped breathing.  It was not
like everyone in the room was in monotone greys or browns and the
purple stood out for that reason.  Indeed, everyone in the room was in
a wide range of colourful attire.  Even she herself was out of uniform
and wearing the floral dress Tom loved so much.  No, the purple caught
her eye for a very different reason -- the purple was skin and hair,
not clothing.

"A Rachar," she whispered.

Her companion stopped too and frowned at the woman still holding her
arm.  "B'Elanna?"

She released her and made a beeline for the older couple dining with
the little girl in a high chair.  All three looked up when she
approached and stared at the child.

"Can we help you?" the woman at the table asked in a surprised voice.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal," Maire apologized, coming up behind
B'Elanna who was bent over and exchanging stares with the little girl.
"B'Elanna, come on."

"She's Rachar," the half-Klingon whispered.  Very slowly, she
straightened and looked at the woman at the table.  "She's Rachar.
How'd she come to be here?  Are there others like her here?"

"No," was the response.  "M'Nea Madeleine's the only one."

"M'Nea Mad...."  Stunned, B'Elanna stared once more at the little girl
then back at the grey haired woman.  "Tom," she breathed.  "Where is
he?  Where's Tom?  You could only know that name if he had told you."

As she spoke, her voice became louder, attracting the attention of
everyone in the restaurant, despite Maire's attempts to quiet her.
The instant words reached the table where Harry and Declan still sat,
the two males were out of their seats and coming to their aid.  Harry
stopped dead at the sight of the young Rachar.

"She is Rachar," Harry boggled at her.

"M'Nea Madeleine," B'Elanna informed him in a voice that suggested he
should see the same significance she saw in that name.

He did not and she received a blank look.

"M'Nea, it's a Klingon name.  From a story Tom and I once read."

"A bizarre coincidence," Maire admitted, "but coincidences do-"

"And a couple of times in his sleep he's said the name M'Nea
Madeleine."

A light began to dawn for the ensign.

"Is there some problem?" the flustered maitre d' enquired.

"Tom was here, wasn't he?" B'Elanna demanded of the woman, ignoring
the restaurant employee.  "He was here and for some reason left this
child here."

The woman exchanged glances with Maire who nodded, in a resigned
fashion.

B'Elanna saw the look between them just as M'Nea Madeleine reached out
and snagged one of B'Elanna's hands in her own two then proceeded to
play with it.

"Perhaps here is not the best place to have this conversation," Maire
suggested.

"Bring them and the others to our house," the woman agreed, rising
along with her husband and removing M'Nea Madeleine from her chair.
That task was complicated by the child's stubborn refusal to give up
her new "toy."  The grey haired man offered his "great-granddaughter"
a breadstick and the hand was abandoned.

"All right," the OPRF engineer agreed.  "We'll see you at the house in
a few minutes."

"Hang on here," B'Elanna tried to object.

"It'll be okay, B'Elanna.  When we get to the O'Connells everything
will be explained."

"Tom was here," she repeated.

"Yes, B'Elanna, Tom was here.  Now, come on."

---

Kathryn and Chakotay had been enjoying themselves at the ceildh when
the call came.  The two of them had called a truce, declaring the
subject of Tom Paris off-limits for the night.  With that agreement,
they had been able to forget everything and participate in the
dancing, singing, eating, and drinking that was the celebration of the
anniversary of the founding of New Roscommon's biggest town,
Castlereagh.  The regional governor had invited them and was just
handing Kathryn another pint of the local brew when Harry had
contacted her and insisted she and Chakotay come to a house in New
Kildare.  She had been reluctant to go, but had acquiesced, knowing
the ensign would not have wanted her to go unless it was important.
The governor had volunteered his own shuttle to get them there,
something they gratefully accepted.  With Voyager grounded, most of
her systems off- line, and only a perfunctory skeleton staff aboard
her, their calling for a site-to-site transport to the next district
was impossible.

The shuttle trip and ground transport to the house took slightly over
twenty minutes and when she and Chakotay were ushered into the living
room by the man of the house, it became clear the delay had been close
to intolerable to B'Elanna.  The woman was prowling the room, fists
clenched in frustration.  All of the Senior staff, except Neelix, were
there, seated on couches or in chairs around the room, sipping tea or
coffee provided them by their hostess.

Kathryn was about to ask what all this was about when Chakotay next to
her made a sound and caught her arm.  She followed his eyes to the
little girl who currently was using Tuvok's knees to pull herself to
her feet so she could better stare at the Vulcan.  Tuvok, for his
part, was staring back at her with tolerance.  "A Rachar?" the Captain
whispered.

Her voice alerted B'Elanna to their presence.  "He was here, Captain,"
she growled, coming to her.  "Tom was here and left her, but they
won't tell me when or why or where he is now!"

"We wished to not have to repeat ourselves, Miss Torres," the old
woman explained, coming in with more cups, Declan following with a
fresh pot of tea and one of coffee.  "Hello, Commander Chakotay.  Tea
or coffee? Captain Janeway?"

"Coffee," Janeway answered automatically, looking from her confused
First Officer to their hostess.  "You two know each other?"

"Dr. O'Connell and I've met," Chakotay answered.

"Please, Commander," the old woman said, handing each of them a cup of
coffee and offering them cream and sugar, "I said to call me 'Nana.'"

The Captain gratefully accepted the coffee.  "Nana, what is going on?"

"All will be explained when everyone's here."

Maire entered with two more dining chairs and set them in an empty
space near one of the couches, so Janeway and Chakotay could seat
themselves then took her own seat next to the Doctor on the love seat
nearby.

While she was doing this, the door chimed and moments later Oran
escorted Neelix, Sam, and Naomi inside.  The four-year-old ran over to
the woman she had met in the shuttle only a few nights earlier.  They
exchanged hushed words then nods and Maire introduced her to M'Nea
Madeleine who immediately abandoned the Vulcan in favour of
investigating Naomi's unusual forehead and long hair.

"Now that we are all here," the grey haired woman said, passing Sam
and Neelix cups of tea.  "I should introduce myself to all of you.  I
am Nana O'Connell.  This is my husband, Oran.  Miss Torres is correct.
Thomas Paris was here less than a week ago, but had to leave.  He
wouldn't tell us where he was going, only that he had to go and could
not take his daughter with him."

"Daughter!"  B'Elanna's brown eyes widened impossibly and fell on the
child crawling into Naomi's lap as the older child sat on the floor.

"I would need a tricorder to confirm it, but going by appearance
alone, I would say that child is completely Rachar," the EMH judged.
"That plus the gestation period for Terrans being nine months and
Rachar... I don't know about Rachar, but their physiology would
indicate something near or equal to that.  It appears this child could
not belong to Mr. Paris."

"Oran, why don't you take the girls out into the garden and show them
the fireflies?  And the hummingbird moths should be out around the
lilies now.  They might like to see them too."

Her husband nodded, collected the children, and exited the house via
the terrace doors.  After waiting for them to be well out of earshot,
Nana continued.

"New Rachar was destroyed.  Thomas became the foster father to this
one when her mother died."

Tom's mate relaxed slightly.  "But where'd he go?"  Her breath caught
in her throat.  "Not back to Voyager?"  The idea of their missing each
other because Tom had struck off to find them only to have them come
here was a horrifying idea.  And if she had finished asking Maire for
a long-range ship and gone off to New Rachar -- what had been New
Rachar - - and he had come back here because he had traced Voyager
back here... That was almost worse.

"We don't know that precisely, but no, not back to Voyager."

"What happened to New Rachar?" Tuvok asked.  "How was it destroyed?"

"Some group known as the Gherop came and killed everyone.  Or almost
everyone.  According to Thomas, there were a few still alive when he
arrived there.  Other than M'Nea Madeleine, none survived for long.
Her mother asked Thomas to take her and then she too died."

There was silence in the room as everyone digested this horrific turn
of events for the Rachar.

The most silent was Janeway.  Her throat was too constricted for her
to speak.  Tom had practically begged her to help the refuges and she
had fobbed him off, insisting they would be fine.  Now she knew just
how wrong she was.  Had Voyager gone when Tom had wanted her to go
would the Rachar still be alive?  Was it indirectly her fault they
were dead?

Across the room, B'Elanna nearly fell from shock and Harry and the
Doctor scrambled to get her to a chair.  "Tom?" she croaked.  "Tom
wasn't hurt, was he?"  She shook her head in fierce denial.  "No.  No,
of course he wasn't.  I would have felt it if he had been.  The shared
pain.  I would have felt it if he was in pain."

Vehemently, she nodded to herself as though this was the answer to
everything and the EMH looked at the Commander.

"You have not told her about the development with the shared pain?"
the hologram asked.

"No," Chakotay shook his head.  "We haven't exactly been-"

B'Elanna glanced from one to the other.  "Tell me what?  What's going
on?"

The EMH sighed.  "I knew I should have sat you down and told you
myself, but with everything that's been going on.... I found the
mutation in your DNA that I think was responsible for the shared pain
phenomena.  But now it's reversing.  I'd have to check with the
internal sensors, but I'd guess by now it's totally gone."

"The internal sensors?" Harry asked.

"I couldn't very well drop everything and chase after the Lieutenant
with a tricorder every time I wanted another scan of her.  I had a
Sickbay to run.  So I set the internal sensors to take scans of her
every so many hours as long as she was on the ship."

B'Elanna was not listening to them or looking at them either.  She was
focused on some point inward.  "Tom could be out there somewhere,
dying and I'll never know," she whispered.  She surfaced and glared at
Janeway with every millimetre of hatred within her.  "If you hadn't
refused him....  If we had gone after him when I asked you to-"

"You would not have found him," Maire interrupted.  "He was busy
rescuing me and bringing me here."

All eyes turned to the black haired woman.

"My... accident with the Dublin.  When you found me.  It was no
accident.  It was a deliberate ploy to get you to come here.  I went
out, found you, sent the distress call knowing you'd come for me, then
asked you to come here to drop me off."

All but Nana and Tuvok gaped at her.

"Well, I never said *when* I'd had my problems with the Dublin.  I
just recreated them and let things unfold."

"Why?" Janeway gasped.

"So you'd be here when Thomas returns," Nana explained.  She clearly
mulled over what she wanted to say next before actually speaking.
"He's... He's not happy.  And from talking to Commander Chakotay and
looking at the rest of you and judging from what Maire has told me,
none of you are either.  We would like to see that changed. We want
Thomas to be happy and we think by bringing all of you here, giving
you a neutral place to talk, then you might work things out and
everyone can be happy again.  He's never really been happy in his
life, except when he was here as a boy and with all of you, before all
this mess began."

"He's been here before?"

"Yes, as a child he spent a summer on New Kildare with his sisters and
mother when she lectured at New Dublin University.  He was very happy
here.  It was sad to see him go."  She shook her head.  "But it's even
sadder to see him so upset as he is now.  So, when he left, we decided
to take matters into our own hands."

"Why'd you let him go in the first place?" B'Elanna practically
shouted.

"Why did you?" was the calmly delivered counterattack.

B'Elanna had plenty of answers to that but they suddenly sounded like
whiny excuses to her ears.

Nana softened a little.  "A lot of mistakes have been made in the
past."  Her gaze shifted around the room to include all of them in her
comments.  "By everyone here and others.  But we're offering you a
chance to repair those mistakes.  We will continue to help you with
what you have to do to your ship.  And we will mediate your
discussions with Thomas if you like.  You've already seen how good
Maire can be at that sort of thing and I am a trained psychologist
myself.  But we want to see you try to work out a peace with him and
vice versa.  For the peace of mind of all of you."

The silence returned as they considered her statement.

---

"I want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," Megan snapped back at Geron and
continued wending her way through the New Roscommon ceildh crowd.
With her family being of Irish ancestry, Megan found their coming to
New Kildare had been like coming home to a family reunion.  The
accents, the people, the songs and telling of tales over pints of
"mother's milk" as her grandfather had called it, it was all so home
to her.  If it so happened Voyager ended up stuck here, she would be
happy.  Or would be if she could convince Geron it was over between
them and she could see Tom again to talk to him.

"Megan."  Her desperate lover grabbed her arm and whirled her around.
"You have to listen to me."

She jerked her arm away.  "I don't *have* to do anything, Geron Tem.
It's over."

"Megan, you can't mean that," he begged, chasing after her as she
quickly fled through the crowd.  "Megan!"

A group of good Samaritans stepped between him and the vanishing
Megan, effectively ending his pursuit of his wayward love.

"Now, son, I think she doesn't want to talk to you," the oldest of the
group of men informed him in a tone that was friendly while threaded
with a warning note.

"You don't understand," he insisted, trying to get by.  "I have to
talk to her.  I have to explain."

"She doesn't seem to be in the mood for explaining.  Give her some
time to cool down before you try again to talk to her."

"But she's had almost four days."

"Sometimes it takes minutes, others days, still others longer.  My
great-great-great-grandmother once kept my great-great-great-
grandfather sleeping in the wood shed for a whole month because he
dared buy a pretty young thing a pint in a pub."

Geron had no idea what a "woodshed," "pint," or "pub" were, but he
understood the "whole month" part and groaned.

The old man placed an arm about his slumped shoulders.  "You have to
let women calm down in their own time.  They're a lot like cats
really.  You just have to let them decide when they're ready to do
something, not try to make them do what you want, when you want it.
They'll hiss and scratch and put your eye out if you do."

"But Megan-"

"Come and have a pint with us, son.  Between the lot of us, we have a
lot of years spent dealing with the fairer sex.  Maybe we can help
you."

So the unwilling Geron was led off to a table to listen to their
advice on surviving "men's curse" -- women.

---

"It's okay, child.  You can stop running.  He's been intercepted by my
husband."

Megan looked first at the old woman who had halted her flight then
over her shoulder to the depths of the crowd from which she was
expecting Geron to emerge.  He did not and she breathed a sigh of
relief.

"Men," her new companion grumbled.  "They think they can make us
listen when we don't want to, like we are some obedient slaves or
something. His 'lordship' -- my husband that is -- he thinks he has
women all figured out.  Ha!  What he has figured out couldn't keep him
dry in the rain.  But," she lamented, "we do love them so.  Even if
they are so infantile most of the time."

"Geron's usually so mature," Megan defended.  "He just gets jealous
and does stupid things.  Stupid, horrible things."

"Hmm.  We saw you two were in need of help so we sent our menfolk to
keep him busy while we helped you."

Glancing at the gathering of women around her, Megan realized the "we"
was not the royal "we," but actually a reference to all the women
facing her.  "Actually, you've helped me plenty.  Thank you.  I'll
just- "

"You'll just come have a drink with us, girl.  You obviously need our
help if you think stopping him from following you around here like a
yappy cur nipping at your heels is helping you.  Tomorrow, you two
will just be back where you were before we intervened.  No, you'll
come have a drink and listen to what we have to say."

They ushered Megan off to a table to listen to their advice on dealing
with "women's curse" -- the other one -- men.

---

Q returned to her mate and son to find her mate frowning heavily.
"What is it?"

"I just don't understand this," he mumbled, not looking at her.  "He
blew up that planet over there.  Well what used to be a planet over
there."

"See, I told you they are destructive creatures."

"Hmm."

"Q?" she questioned.

His eyes shifted to hers.  "What?"

"Let's get q and go home."

He shook his head.  "I want to try and figure this out."

"But-"

His mental confusion stripped him of his usual attitude.  "Please?"

Hearing Q use that word and in that tone of voice was so rare, she was
dumbstruck and nodded her consent.

His eyes returned to watching the scene before them.  "He finally
discovered the ones who were following him.  They seem to be going
back to their planet."

"Some of the Voyager crew now know about him having been on the
planet.  Some of them are going back to their ship and telling the
others.  Others are still arguing with the locals for some reason.  I
wonder when they're going to figure out what's really going on with
them anyway?" she mused then followed her mate and son as they
followed Sunfire and the New Kildarean shuttle.

---

"Sunbird, they already have the new Vanguard in orbit," Sunfire gasped
late the next day.  "It's still in a couple dozen big pieces, but it's
there.  All they have to do it fuse the sections together and do some
interior work on her and she looks like she'll be done."

He weakly opened his eyes and focused on the ceiling of his quarters.
Once Stephane and Maaike had retired to their respective quarters the
night before, all the energy seemed to have been sapped out of Tom.
It was understandable really.  He had not had adequate sleep in days.
Longer if you counted all the nights previous to coming to New
Kildare.  Invariably those nights had been interrupted by nightmares
so little sleep had been had then.  And he had not been able to eat
since deciding to break R'Co via rape and he had eaten very little
prior to that.  He was in poor shape and looked it.  Sunfire had
covered for him, telling the New Kildareans he was tired and resting
and had kept them occupied for most of the day.

"Impossible.  They only started on her four days ago."

"I don't know how they did it, but they did and...."

"And what?"

"You won't believe who is on New Kildare."

"You say Gherop and I'll-"

"Voyager."

Tom tried to sit up and failed.  Falling back down to the bunk, he
closed his eyes.  "How?"

"I don't know, but she's there on the big field on the opposite side
of the OPRF complex from where I set down before.  My scans indicate
the crew and OPRF people are performing the alterations for the Gopher
Hole trip.  In fact, they're almost done.  The yatelite matrix is in
and according to the schedule in the ship's computer, they will be
ready to leave soon."

"They seen us yet?"

"I don't think so.  You're not seriously thinking of leaving just
because they're here, are you?  To be quite honest, I think you need
medical attention and from doctors who know Terran physiology.  That
means here or on Voyager. "

He was resigned to his fate even before she put the last nail in his
coffin.

"We'd have to drop off Stephane, Maaike, and the Connacht on the
surface anyway and they'd just grab another ship and follow us until
we came back."

"Fine.  Ask the PTC for another place to land."

A moment later, she gave him the bad news.  "No dice.  It's the OPRF
grounds or nothing.  They had to move everything to other fields so
Voyager could land and they want the Connacht here so it can be
repaired.  Plus they want to look me over and clear up a couple of
questions they have about my design. They want us to land near
Building 14.  It's a hanger on the far side of the complex where
they're assembling the first of the new Vanguards.  It's well away
from Voyager and with the buildings to hide us, and the Voyager crew
apparently wrapped up in doing the alterations, they probably won't
even notice we're here.  And it's a big planet.  I'm sure you can do
whatever you want to and not have to worry about bumping into anyone
from Voyager."

They both knew the odds of the other crew not finding out they were
there were slim.  All someone had to do was look out the right window
in the complex or go for a stroll and they would see Sunfire.  The
planet may have been big, but the complex's grounds were not equally
so.

"I can't keep my cloak up indefinitely, Sunbird."

"I know."

"And you were planning to do more than collect the clone from Kieran
and Kaatje and go.  You have to see the O'Connells and M'Nea
Madeleine.  And wait for the new Vanguard to be ready."

"The odds are the crew will see us."

"Or one of the OPRF people will mention us in passing or something,
yes."

"If or when Voyager finds out we're here, I'll handle it.  Go ahead
and land then disengage your cloak."

"I'm going to send you to the nearest medical centre first."

"Sunfire, I'll be fine.  I just need to rest."

"You've been trying to rest since last night and haven't accomplished
it.  Just tossed and turned to the point I was considering knocking
you out for a while so you would sleep.  You need to see a doctor,
Sunbird, that's what you need.  I'll tell Stephane and Maaike where
you've gone, don't worry."

He still was objecting when she transported him to the emergency room
of the main medical centre in the town.  His arrival and pale and wan
appearance caused the expected amount of surprise and flurry of
activity.  With in seconds, two nurses had him into the nearest
examining room and a third had gone for the resident on duty.  When
the doctor came, Tom found "if or when Voyager found out they were
there" was going to be a lot sooner than he would have liked for the
resident's companion was none other than the EMH.

The hologram stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the all too
familiar patient.  The eyes of the Doctor and his former assistant met
for one heart-stopping moment then the resident began firing orders to
the nurses, breaking the silence.

"Mr. Paris would be an interesting case for you to study," the EMH
lectured the doctor as the latter ran a tricorder over the patient.
"He has been beaten, drugged, tortured, shot, stabbed, and actually
mutated and declared dead.  Nothing's been able to kill him yet.
There's a character from Twentieth Century Earth popular culture.
Superman.  A fictional and nearly indestructible superhero. Some days
I wonder if Mr. Paris is not aiming to be the modern day equivalent."

"And the Doc wants to be Lex Luthor," Tom shot back in a fuzzy voice.
The medication one of the nurses had just administered was beginning
to take effect.  The anger he still felt against his former-fellow
crewmember lingered, but the medication was dulling it and his normal
sense of humour was bleeding through the walls of hate.

"Brainiac actually.  More in keeping with my intelligence."

Tom half-smiled then his lids fell and he was asleep in moments.

---

"B'Elanna?"

"And make sure that's secure before you start attaching the second
half."

"B'Elanna."

Torres motioned for the group to whom she had been issuing orders to
go about their task then she turned to the Captain.

"B'Elanna, I just heard from the Doctor.  He's been touring the
planet's medical facilities and the medical schools.  He was in the
medical centre here in town when a patient came in."

"Captain, I'm really busy so unless this patient went berserk and
tried to damage the mobile emitter-"

"It's Tom.  The patient is Tom."

B'Elanna's normally warm coffee-coloured skin tone blanched to milky
white.  "Tom?" she whispered.  "Where?  Where is he?  Is he all right?
What happened?  Captain-"

Janeway caught the distraught woman's shoulders in her hands.
"B'Elanna, the Doctor says he is okay.  Some minor injuries, easily
fixed.  Mostly it's exhaustion.  Tom's been admitted to the hospital
and is being kept sedated so he can catch up on his sleep."

"I have to go to him.  I have to-"

"B'Elanna, he's going to be asleep for quite a while yet."

"But I have to see him!  I have to be there when he wakes up!"

"B'Elanna, right now, I need you here, supervising all this, not
sitting by Tom's beside, watching him sleep."

"No, I-"

"The Doctor says it will be at least until sometime tomorrow before
they lift the sedation and permit him to wake up.  He'll give us
advance warning so we can be there when Tom opens his eyes."

The half-Klingon wanted to object, it was in her eyes, but the Captain
applied slight pressure to the shoulders and B'Elanna nodded.

Kathryn gave her a half-smile.  "At least he's here now.  And maybe we
can sort this all out?"

Another nod and they parted company.

---

The middle of the next day, the resident in charge of Tom's case had
to put her foot down.  Not only was Voyager's entire Senior Staff --
minus its First Officer -- milling around the waiting room for
permission to go see the patient, but Megan and Geron -- the former
still refusing to speak to the latter -- Sam, Naomi, the O'Connells,
M'Nea Madeleine, Maire, Stephane, and Maaike all were there too.
There was no way all of them could go see Tom at the same time.  For
starters, the room could not hold all of them and the patient too.
Deciding who was to go first was a problem.  Neelix, the Doctor,
Tuvok, and Baytart were willing to wait until later.  An argument
broke out between the others as to who ought to go see him to mend
things.

Risking B'Elanna's death glare, Geron felt he should go first and
explain things, effectively smoothing the way for the others.

B'Elanna asserted the Bajoran "had done quite enough, thank you very
much" and she and Harry should go first to explain what really had
happened between them.

Megan insisted she should go since she was the only one who had not
lied to him and he actually would want to see her.

Sam made a similar statement on behalf of her daughter.

The only one who really did not want to go first, or go at all, was
the Captain.  She knew she wanted to see him and work things out
between them, but, now that the time had come, she could not think of
what she was going to say or how to say it.  Starfleet regulations
said she was right in her decisions regarding the Rachar.  Had they
gone to New Rachar, the odds were they too would be dead right now.
However none of that changed how she felt.  Mama Janeway wanted her
little troublemaker back.  It was that simple.  How she was going to
achieve that was not.  After days of contemplating this moment, she
still was at a loss.

Unseen by everyone else, Naomi and M'Nea Madeleine ignored the
arguing.  The four-year-old took the toddler's hand and the two of
them slipped down the hall and into the room where the man they wanted
to see lay.

M'Nea Madeleine's distinctive giggle woke Tom.  Sleepily, he turned
his head towards the girls and met Naomi sad look for sad look.  The
children came close enough to the bed for him to reach down and lift
them onto the bed.  Instantly, the pair of them were throwing their
arms around him, hugging him for all they were worth.  Closing his
eyes, Tom wrapped his arms around "his" girls and sighed.  Soon all
three were asleep.

---

Ten minutes later, the resident returned from looking in on her
patient and informed everyone of what she had seen.  The O'Connells
and Sam immediately looked at the spot where the girls had been
waiting and were surprised not to find them there.

"But they can't stay there," the New Kildarean doctor told the mother
and grandparents.  "You'll need to take them with you.  He needs more
rest and more fluids, he's still badly dehydrated and exhausted."

B'Elanna anxiously moved forward.  "But other than that, he's okay,
right?"

"Yes, he should be just fine."

"Perhaps if the children could be moved now?"

The three adults responsible for said children followed her and the
Doctor down the hall and into the room.  Gently, the younger two
sleepers were untangled from the patient and taken from the room,
never waking.

The resident drew the EMH away from the bed.  "What are the odds of
the rest of them leaving as peacefully?"

"Not very good," he sighed.  "They are determined to see him, even if
it would only agitate him."

"Given what you've told me of the situation, I can understand why.
What if we quarantined him for a while so he could get some rest and
they'd have to stay out?  No, that would be too hard to explain to the
hospital board.  They'd sympathize with the reasoning for establishing
the quarantine, but they'd be concerned about the panic it might cause
amongst the other patients.  What if we moved him to another room and
not tell them where he is?  That would give him some peace while he
recovers."

"And free up this bed for you for while you're recovering from
Lieutenant Torres assaulting you for not telling her where he is.  She
is determined to see him and when Lieutenant Torres is *determined* to
do anything, it is best not to stand in her way.  She'll go through
you to get what she wants.

The resident sighed.  "So what do we do if there's no reasoning with
her or the others?"

The hologram turned back to the bed.  "I don't- Where is he?"

The resident too turned and saw the patient was gone.  "How...?  He
didn't go passed us."

"He had to have been beamed up, but by whom?"

"By me," a voice said from the EMH's combadge.

The Doctor blinked.  "Sunfire?"

"Yes.  He has no desire to see any of you so just leave him alone."

"But he needs monitoring," the resident tried to argue.

"I can do that."

"But you're not a doctor."

No answer.

"Hello?"

Still nothing.

Resigned to the situation, the EMH shook his head.  "There's no way to
make her answer if she doesn't want to.  But she is a very advanced
ship and is very attached to Mr. Paris.  She will look after him."

"But still..." she tried to argue.

"I know, but it is a solution to how to let him rest in peace.  Later,
when he's better, then we'll talk to him."  His face took on a far off
look.  "There's a lot to discuss."

"They never covered any of this in medical school," she grumbled as
she walked out ahead of him.  "Patients appearing out of nowhere then
disappearing to same.  People fighting over who gets to see him first.
Children falling asleep with the patients.  All highly irregular."

"You should try being an Emergency Medical Holographic programme on a
starship lost seventy thousand light-years from home with a crew
that's bound and determined to get themselves killed.  Then the term
'irregular' takes on a whole new meaning."

B'Elanna saw them approaching first and pounced on them.  "So when can
we go see him?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Paris is gone," the resident shrugged.

There was a collective gasp and many of them blanched or their mouths
hung open.

"But you said he was okay," the Captain argued.  "You said he needed
rest.  How could he die just like that?"

The EMH shook his head in exasperation at the resident.  "We really
need to talk about your bedside manner.  Mr. Paris is not deceased.
He merely has left."

B'Elanna quickly recovered from her shock.  "Left?  Left where?  How?
You said you'd shot him up with some sort of sedative or something.
How could he just get up and walk off?"

"Sunfire beamed him out."

"What?  Why?"

"So he could recuperate in peace elsewhere.  She claims Mr. Paris
still has no desire to see anyone from Voyager other than Miss
Wildman, it appears."  He overrode the immediate objections.  "And I
think we should indulge both of them for the moment.  Mr. Paris needs
rest right now, not people coming to him to 'explain.'  Once he's
himself again, then everyone can start tackling him about everything."

"No ship's going to- No, let me go, Harry!  I am not going to let her
dictate whether or not I can see Tom."  She pulled away from him and
stormed out of the waiting room.

Harry followed, trying to talk sense to her.

Naturally it was a lost cause.

---

"Sunfire?"

"Yes, Sunbird?"

He rubbed his face, not bothering to try to sit up.  "I just had the
strangest dream.  We were on New Kildare.  You beamed me to a hospital
and I saw the Doctor there.  Then I fell asleep because of some drug
they gave me and when I woke up, Naomi was there with M'Nea Madeleine
and they climbed in bed with me and we all fell asleep again."

"It was no dream.  We are on New Kildare.  You have been asleep since
yesterday.  Naomi Wildman and M'Nea Madeleine were there and slept
with you."

"Then how'd I end up here?"

"I brought you back here.  A bunch from Voyager were in the waiting
room preparing to rush into your room the instant you woke up and
start badgering you to listen to them try to *explain* things."  The
manner in which she said "explain" left no doubt about how she felt
about that.  "So, when the EMH and the doctor in charge of your case
were wondering how they could keep them away from you long enough for
you to regain your strength, I beamed you back here.  It was that or
they try to get away with declaring you under quarantine and not alarm
the other patients by doing so."

"Oh."

"You didn't want to see them, did you?"  Her tone was tentative and
wary.

"I don't know," he admitted after a pause, his mind on his new plan
for revenge on The Protectors and how things would be so different if
he succeeded.  In light of those looming changes, he actually found
himself wishing to see B'Elanna at least, one last time before she and
the life he knew disappeared forever.

This wavering of his attitude alarmed her.  "Sunbird, after everything
they did and said to you and you don't know?"

"I know, I'm the worst kind of masochist, but I honestly don't know."

Sunfire calculated the pi to a million decimal places.  She would have
taken a deep breath and counted to ten.  Since she no longer had lungs
and could count to ten in a nanosecond and still have time to project
the flight path of every celestial body in galaxy for the next billion
years, that particular method of trying to calm her anger seemed a bit
of a non-starter.  "Well, until you do know, I suggest you stay here
and rest.  They can't bother you here."

Exhaustion taking hold once more, he nodded.  Another blanket
materialized over him and he snuggled down to a troubled sleep.

Thirty minutes later, Sunfire wished she could do the same.  With
Harry Kim at her heels, B'Elanna Torres stalked up to her amber
coloured hull and addressed her.

"Come on, I know you can hear me," the enraged woman shouted.

Harry glanced around to see there was no one about to see B'Elanna
yelling at a ship and report her to the local mental health care
practitioners.  His life was difficult enough these days without
having to explain the Captain why their Chief Engineer had been
dragged off to some place that did not have any sharp objects in it.
He just knew there would be all sorts of reports to fill out.  Unless
of course he was carted off with B'Elanna for trying to explain to the
nice people that she really was not crazy.  That Sunfire really could
answer back if she wanted to.  And no, he did not want to tell them
what colour the sky was in his world because he was feeling distinctly
off and did not want to look up for fear there would be three suns
instead of one and they would all be wearing rather chic sun glasses
and laughing at him.

"Come on, open up!"

"B'Elanna, if she doesn't want to let us in, she's not going to.
There's no way we can force her."

"I'll get a phaser and-"

"And now that you've declared your intentions, she'll raise her
shields the moment she sees you coming back with one.  Come on.
Sunfire, if you'll tell Tom we would like to see him later.  There are
some misunderstandings that need clearing up right away.  Come on,
B'Elanna."

"But-"

"Come on.  We'll come back later."

With extreme reluctance, she left with him.  She did not stop arguing,
but she did go.

Sunfire resumed calculating pi, this time to a billion places.  There
was no way she was going to permit that Klingon bitch to see him if
she could help it.  She had done enough to wreck his life without her
trying to pull anything else with her "explanations."  Helping him
pick up the pieces from the last time was proving to be hard enough.
She did not want him to slip even farther into this depression their
actions had tossed him into and his own actions of the recent past had
kept him there.

Then she thought of a plan.

---

Hours later, Tom opened his eyes when the mattress began to bounce
accompanied by giggles.  Even with little light in the room, he could
tell where he was -- the guestroom in the O'Connell home.  The reason
the bed was moving was not seismic tremors, but a certain little girl
who had discovered the bed moved if she bounced on it.

"M'Nea Madeleine, how'd you get in here?" Nana whispered from the
doorway.  She tiptoed into the room to collect the child.  "Come here,
before you wake your father."

"Too late," Tom mumbled.  "How'd I get here?  Oof.  Hello."

His daughter, seeing his eyes open, plopped herself across his chest,
trying to hug him with her chubby arms.

"M'Nea Madeleine," the "great-grandmother" scolded.

"It's okay, Seanmhair."  Putting an arm around the child so she was
not dislodged as he moved, he sat up against the dark wood headboard.
"How'd I get here?  Last time I woke up, I was on Sunfire."

"That was quite a few hours ago.  She contacted us, wanted to know if
she could send you here where she thought you'd be more comfortable,
and we said yes.  You slept through the whole thing.  And through
lunch and tea.  You think you're up for dinner?"

He thought about it, discovered his appetite still was on its extended
sojourn elsewhere, and shook his head.

"You really must eat, Thomas.  I didn't want to say anything when you
first came here, but you were looking a little too thin.  Now, it's
only become worse.  You're skin and bone.  You need a few good meals
to fatten you up or the next time you turn sideways, I won't be able
to see you."

"I'm not hungry, Seanmhair."

"Then the least you could do is come down to the kitchen and sit with
your seanair and I while we eat.  Come along, M'Nea Madeleine.  Let's
leave your athair in peace."  She removed the child from her "father."

"Seanmhair?"

She paused in the doorway, shifting the squirming child in her arms.

"I have to talk to you and Seanair about what Stephane and Maaike
did."

She nodded.  "We expected as much.  But after dinner, hmm?"

He nodded.

"Good.  Sunfire sent your clothes.  They're in the drawers over there.
After you've showered, you can come down."

Once the door closed behind them, Tom looked down at the
hospital-issue pajamas he wore.  He had wondered what he was wearing,
not owning any actual nightwear of his own.  'I'll have to remember to
return them tomorrow,' he thought, rising to shower and dress for a
dinner he did not want to eat, though being there would give him the
chance to talk to them about Maaike and Stephane's unexpected and
potentially dangerous trip off-world.

---

Sunfire had had enough.  That Klingon bitch was back, demanding
entrance, demanding to see Sunbird, or "Tom" as they always called
him, and she was refusing to leave until she had.  This time she had
come alone.  Where her lover was, Sunfire did not know or care.  All
that mattered was the female had had the audacity to bother her one
too many times and now was the perfect time for a showdown with "the
two-timing slut."  She beamed B'Elanna onto her empty Bridge, even the
Helm and its chair vanished in the floor where it hid until needed.

"Where is he?" the "Klingon bitch" in question demanded.

"Sunbird's not here.  It's just you and me."

"Where's Tom?  What have you done with him now?"

"He's safe elsewhere.  Some place none of you can bother him.  Haven't
you done enough to him?  What do you want?  What are you hoping for?
You and the others already have put him through Hell.  What more do
you want?  To finish the job and actually put him there physically?
If that's your intention, to drive him so insane with all your snubs
and lies that he'll begin to believe he is totally worthless and save
you the trouble and just kill himself thereby removing himself from
your lives entirely, you've another think coming."

"What I *want* is between Tom and myself.  As for the rest of that
garbage about wanting him dead, you should count yourself lucky you're
not human anymore or I'd be asking you to step outside and repeat that
remark before you had to pick up what was left of your face off of the
ground."

"You think so, huh?  When I was organic, I once took on a
full-blooded- Klingon warrior and won.  A half-breed like you wouldn't
last five seconds against me.  Not even if your lover came to back you
up.  Not that he looks all that capable of doing it anyway.  Looks
like he couldn't even fight a tribble and win."

"How dare you talk about Tom that way?!  If you'd ever seen him with a
bat'leth-"

"Sunbird?!  How dare *you* even think of him as your lover any longer.
I was talking about his so-called 'best friend' the 'good Ensign Harry
Kim,'" she sneered.  "Good?  Ha!  That's some act he's been pulling
all these years.  Making everyone think he's so sweet and nice and
then stealing his best friend's mate from him.  Yeah, he's so 'good.'"

"Harry did not 'steal' me from Tom."

"Oh, you took him to your bed willingly, hmm?  I thought as much."

"I didn't take him to my bed!"

"Oh, you two always slept in his?  Yes, that would eliminate the
chances of Sunbird slipping into your quarters unannounced to surprise
you and catching you two.  A bit of a social faux pas to be in the
midst of something and roll over to find your mate standing at the
foot of the bed."

"Nor in his bed!  We are not nor ever have slept together!"

"Oh, able to keep at it all night, hmm?  Or do you just have a thing
against sleeping together?  Do the dirty deed then get out?  How very
cold.  But I would expect as much from someone stupid enough to toss
aside a terrific man like Sunbird in favour of a boring mouse like
Harry Kim."

"First of all, I never 'tossed Tom aside.'  Second, Harry's not boring
or a mouse.  And, third, I resent you accusing me of things I didn't
do and trying to keep me away from Tom.  He's my mate and I want to
see him.  There's been a huge misunderstanding, things aren't they way
he was told they were, and I don't know why I'm explaining all this to
you when it's none of your business."

"Anything having to do with Sunbird *is* my business and you've done
enough to hurt him.  Telling him some lies to try to make him think
you haven't done what you've done and he didn't see what he saw won't
do him any good."

"What do you mean 'didn't see what he saw?'  What did he see?"

"Oh, you think I'm going to tell you so you can start coming up with
some neat little excuse to explain away what he saw?  No way.  I'm not
going to give you a chance to spread even more lies."

"It's not lies!  It's the truth.  The whole truth, not the skewed
version Geron told him."

"You'd say anything at this point wouldn't you?  You've realized now
that you've lost him that he's the better man and you want him back
and enlisted the others to help you doing it.  Well, with or without
their help, you're not getting him back.  Ever.  He wants nothing to
do with you and neither do I."

Sunfire emphasized her point by beaming B'Elanna off of her Bridge and
onto the field into Voyager's Main Engineering -- a metre off of the
deck.  B'Elanna hit the deck with a thud and lay there for a minute,
dazed, while Carey and the others rushed to her side.  As she lay
there, wondering what a well-aimed photon torpedo would do to
Sunfire's hull, the Doctor was summoned.

---

"Sure you don't want a bite?  It is your favourite," Nana cajoled.

"No, I'm fine," Tom replied distractedly.  He was trying to feed the
child sitting in his lap, but she seemed to want no part of it.  Every
time he moved the spoon anywhere near her, she pushed it away and
towards his sweater front.  There were large globs of it adorning it
and so far none in her mouth.

Oran gestured with his fork.  "Maybe she wants you to play
taste-tester and try it first."

"Seeing you eat it might convince her to try some," Nana pointed out.
"We've discovered she does seem to start eating more quickly if she
sees whoever's feeding her is eating too."

As if on cue, M'Nea Madeleine shoved the spoon towards his mouth.  Tom
looked at it for a moment then accepted the spoonful of creamy yellow
pulp.  It had been a long time since he had eaten any of the
O'Connells' special recipe apple sauce and he savoured the taste.
Even wanted more.  His stomach started to growl it was so empty.

Then it began to heave as he remembered why it was so empty in the
first place.  He barely was able to set M'Nea Madeleine on the floor
and race down the hall to the bathroom under the front stairs to the
second floor before he became violently ill.

Left in the kitchen, Oran and Nana gave each other stunned looks.  At
his nod, she rose and went after Tom.  "Ogha?" she called through the
closed bathroom door once the sounds of retching no longer were
audible.  "Can I come in?"

"No," the weak voice came from inside.  "Just leave me alone."

"Should I call Voyager's Doctor?  Have him come look at you.  You
shouldn't have left the medical centre yet.  We thought that at the
time."

"No.  I'll be fine.  I just need to be alone."

"Well, okay.  We'll be in the kitchen."  She walked back the way she
had come.  "He says he wants to be alone," she informed them quietly.
"I think we should go ahead and call her.  I hate to say it, but maybe
if he's feeling ill his guard might be down enough to let her in.  Let
her look after him perhaps?  Her playing the dutiful nurse mopping his
brow might give them a chance to talk."

"It could backfire.  He's already a bit mad at Stephane, Maaike, and
Maire for trying to interfere with whatever it was he had to do.  He
might not be as forgiving towards us if we interfered also.  Them
following him was one thing.  Calling her here and when he's in no
condition to evade her, that he might not pardon."

"True, but it might be her only chance to get through to him.  If he's
perfectly well, then he can run away.  Stuck in bed, he can't go
anywhere."

"But don't forget what we already have planned for tonight.  Their
being here while she is might provide too much distraction for him.
He could claim we had guests therefore he could busy himself with them
and ignore her."

"Then we'll just have to tell them to come another night."

For almost half an hour they argued over it, all the while expecting
him to reappear from the bathroom.  When he did not, Nana was given
the go ahead to contact Voyager.

---

Seated on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cool tile of lower
half of the wall, Tom continued to wait for the waves of nausea to
pass.  'You did what had to be done,' he assured himself.  'What you
did to R'Co was the only way.  And you should not be feeling remorse
like this.  You were right.  It *was* all an act.  She either was
unaffected by it or enjoyed the experience in some bizarrely sick way.
Regardless, she was faking being emotionally and mentally hurt.  There
is no reason for you to feel regrets or self-recriminations.  Yes, of
your own free will, you did do something reprehensible to another
creature.  Yes, you did descend to the level of The Protectors.  It
was something you swore you'd do your best to avoid, but you did it
for a good reason.  You did it for a higher purpose.'

*Any excuse The Protectors have used themselves numerous times I
believe,* Camet remarked.  *They did quite well in creating you,
AlphaOmegan 41783.  Yes, even though you claim to be so desirous of
not being like them, they have succeeded in seducing you to doing
things their way.  You truly are one of their Chosen Ones.  Maybe when
they hear what you've done here, maybe then they'll just go ahead and
make you one of them.  They'll have to figure out how to give you a
new Implant to replace that ruined one in your head, but once they do
that, disencumbering you from that ill-advised conscience of yours
will be simple.*

"I am not one of them," he whispered hoarsely.  "I am not."  Even as
he said it, he knew yet that again he was wrong.  He had been off
balance for so much of his life because of The Protectors.  He kept
hoping there was at least a smidgen of his true self left lurking
somewhere inside him, waiting to leap to the forefront.  Instead, as
more time went by, the more he knew he merely was a slightly evolved
version of what The Protectors had wanted him to be.

---

"What happened?" Harry asked when he came through the Sickbay doors
and found Neelix and the Doctor hovering over a reclining B'Elanna.

"Apparently Lieutenant Torres was rediscovering the laws of gravity,"
the EMH remarked with a smirk.  "You'll be happy to know they have not
been repealed."

No one laughed at his minor joke.  Not Neelix because he had heard it
when he had entered moments earlier and asked the same question Harry
had.  Not B'Elanna who was in physical pain and mental upheaval, still
planning revenge on Sunfire and formulating desperate plans for
finding Tom.  And not Harry who had been surprised when the Computer
had told him over half an hour ago that B'Elanna was not aboard for
Nana O'Connell to speak to and he at Ops had taken the message for
her. Less then three minutes ago, the Computer had advised her she was
back and he had rushed down here to see her.  Seeing he was going to
receive not even a smile of feigned amusement, the Doctor moved the
conversation on and in a more serious tone.

"She is only bruised.  Won't be sitting down for a while and bending
her right elbow is going to be a chore until the residual swelling
subsides.  Other than that, there are no major injuries."`

Harry frowned at her.  "B'Elanna, what were you doing?  All Joe said
they heard a thud and there you were on the deck."

"I went to see Tom only Sunfire wouldn't let me," she snapped.  "She
beamed me onto her Bridge, was totally vile to me, informed me Tom was
somewhere else, but she wasn't saying where then said she wanted
nothing to deal with me and beamed me into Engineering.  And well
above the floor."

"Why would she do that?  Her sensors having trouble again?  I thought
beaming the yatelite ore away from her and repairing the damage solved
her problems."

"Oh, I don't think there was any *mechanical* problems," she
emphasized, stiffly sitting up and wincing at the pain from placing
her weight on her bruised posterior.  "I think it was entirely a
*personal* problem.  She hates me.  Looking back, I think she always
has for some reason.  This whole mess with Tom's only making things
even worse."

"Why would she hate you?"

"I don't know," she groaned, sliding off of the bed, "but she seems
to."  She recounted highlights of her conversations with the ship,
repeating the last one almost verbatim.

"You know," Neelix murmured thoughtfully, "if this were a person we
were talking about, not a ship, I'd say she was jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Tom loves you.  Everyone knows that.  He even loved you enough to not
stand in your way when he thought Ensign Kim here was the one you
wanted.  Loved you enough to leave Voyager entirely so it didn't hurt
either of you by his being here."

"But it wasn't just for our benefit that he left," Harry felt
compelled to point out.

"It would hurt him too much to see B'Elanna with anyone else."

B'Elanna glared at Neelix.  "He's not going to see me with anyone
else!  Once I explain what really happened, he-"

"Lieutenant," the EMH interrupted, "do you honestly think it will
change much?  The fact remains you kissed Ensign Kim and never told
Mr. Paris.  The first is bad enough, but the second... I once
overheard him tell Megan Delaney you two had agreed to be open and
honest with each other, no more secrets."

"But he didn't keep it either!  He never told me the truth about his
past," she insisted, her anger surfacing.  "Okay, so his silence was a
misguided attempt to protect all of us from the AlphaOmegans.  And,
yes, Harry and I should never have listened to Janeway or Chakotay
when they told us to keep our mouths shut about what had happened,
but-"

"The Captain and Commander knew about this?"  The crewman who had told
him about the story he had heard from Neelix had not mentioned that
bit of information.

"Yes.  They advised us not to tell Tom because it would just hurt him.
They thought he'd never know unless they or we told him.  None of us
knew about the Delaneys or Nozawa or Geron knowing."  She glared at
nothing.  "Which reminds me, I still have yet to thank Geron or Jenny
Delaney properly for their roles all in this."

Harry shook his head.  "I thought you did a pretty good job of it
yesterday at the medical centre.  Geron looked ready to slit his own
throat before you got a chance to do it for him."

"I'm not going to kill either of them!  The Captain would throw me in
the Brig and throw away the key."

"But physical violence hasn't been ruled out has it?  You're still-"

"I can't believe you're on their side."

"I'm not on their side.  I just don't see where beating them up will
solve anything.  Geron's tried to apologize.  To me at least.  He'd
apologize to you too if he didn't think you'd rip his face off before
he could utter a word.  And he wants to apologize to Tom."

"Only because he's worried what his conscience and the Prophets will
do to him if he doesn't.  And there's been not a word from Jenny."

"Jenny's Jenny.  She doesn't believe she did anything wrong.  Geron
asked her to repeat to him what she and Nozawa saw and she did.  She
didn't know Tom was listening and even if she had, she thinks Tom
should have been told.  I sort of think she's right.  Especially in
light of what happened when he did find out.  If we'd told him, we
could have made sure more wasn't made out of it than should have
been."

Sensing this argument was old news and not going to be resolved today
or any time in the future, Neelix dragged them back on topic.  "So you
tried to talk to Sunfire about you seeing Tom and she beamed you into
Engineering and let you fall and you think it was deliberate."

"Yes.  Though I don't buy this jealousy idea of yours.  She is just a
ship."

The Doctor quirked a brow.  "A ship who is sentient.  You say she
hates you.  So why is her being jealous so out of the realm of
possibility? Besides, she was once human.  Remember?  We don't know
what her relationship was with Mr. Paris either prior to her being
transferred into the ship's computer or since.  From what I've been
told of the AlphaOmegans, they were programmed to be totally loyal to
their leader, in this case, Mr. Paris.  And from what I have seen of
her and her interactions with him, I do think this goes beyond any
residual programming.  There *is* a bond there."

"She's his friend and is trying to protect him," Harry hazarded.

"Or something more," the EMH muttered.

B'Elanna stared at him.  "What do you mean?"

"Perhaps there is a deeper emotional bond there than just friendship,"
he suggested.  "As I said, we don't know what their past history is.
They might have been lovers at some point.  On some Mission perhaps?
And there's feelings still left on her side.  It is a possible
explanation for the hostility she apparently demonstrates towards
you."

"The *ship* is in love with *Tom*?"

"The consciousness of the woman trapped inside of the ship is in love
with Mr. Paris.  Perhaps.  Then again it might be loyalty to her
leader or a very strong friendship.  It all is merely an hypothesis
until we have more data."

"I don't want to think about this," she declared and started to
stiffly march out of Sickbay.

Harry's voice stopped her.  "I almost forgot why I came down here,
B'Elanna.  Nana O'Connell wants to see you."

She stopped at slowly turned to him.  Though she tried to restrain it,
hope was there in her eyes.  "Nana O'Connell?"

"She's at her house.  She wanted to talk to you earlier, but I guess
you were with Sunfire.  You weren't aboard Voyager at any rate.  She
wanted you to contact her as soon as you got back."

B'Elanna practically flew to the Doctor's office.

"Certainly, Lieutenant," the EMH grumbled to himself.  "Go right a
head and use my office.  It's not like I don't have any work to do in
there."

Neelix and Harry shushed the hologram and strained to hear the
conversation between the two women.

---

Shooting a glance at the ship on the other side of the complex, Q
considered what she had just heard in Voyager's Sickbay.  While Q and
their son seemed fascinated by trying to figure out Helmboy, she found
his mate to be of slightly greater interest.  As with Helmboy, she had
not paid much attention to her the last time they had met.  Now she
was curious.  Slightly.  Filing away the conversation regarding
Sunfire and everything else, she returned to Q where he watched their
son watching Helmboy.

---

"I don't know," Tom heard Oran saying to someone in the living room
when he emerged from the bathroom.  "He wouldn't tell us what was
wrong.  He just flew to the bathroom and hasn't come out since."

"He clearly left the hospital too soon," Maaike pronounced.  "To be
honest, he didn't look very good when he picked us up, did he,
Stephane?"

"No," the man answered.  "Pale, even for him.  And I'd have sworn he's
lost weight since we last saw him.  Weight he can't really spare."

"That was her," Nana said and there was the soft whoosh that the couch
cushions made when sat upon.  "She's on her way."

"Then we should go," a male voice Tom did not know suggested.  "Let
them be alone to talk."

"Declan's right," Maire agreed.  "We should let Tom and B'Elanna have
some time alone.  Perhaps we should take you and Oran and M'Nea
Madeleine out?  That way he'd probably come out of the bathroom and
have to answer the door when she comes.  I'm sure once they're face to
face, then they'll talk.  Or hopefully, she'll talk first and he'll
listen."

Hearing B'Elanna was on her way, Tom debated on slipping out of the
house without a word.  When he had left the bathroom, his intent had
been to tell his grandparents just that he was going out for a while
and leave.  No further details than that.  They would have tried to
keep him there if they knew his intended destination and purpose,
especially now that they were trying to arrange a reunion between
B'Elanna and himself.  He still was not quite ready to see her.  If he
stuck around even long enough to tell them where he was going, he was
sure they would use the excuse of company being present and needing
entertaining to keep him from going anywhere just so they could be
sure of his being there when she arrived.

So, instead of saying a word, he slipped down the hall to the kitchen,
took a padd from the desk where they kept their family heirloom recipe
books, and composed a brief note to explain he was going out for a
while and would be back later.  Propping it up prominently on the
kitchen table, he escaped through the back door.

---

When B'Elanna's transport dropped her off at the foot of the
O'Connell's front path, she was not aware she had missed seeing Tom
leaving in his own transport by only five minutes.  So it was with
great expectancy that she ran to the front door and pressed the
announcer.  Waiting for someone to answer the door was an eternity for
and Oran who did respond in the end nearly was shoved back inside by
the anxious visitor.

"Where is he?" she asked eagerly.

Oran indicated she was to keep her voice down and motioned her into
the living room where everyone was finishing their cups of tea and
coffee.

Nana took B'Elanna by the arm and quietly explained their plan to the
young woman as the others gathered near the door, ready to leave.
When she had concluded, she led B'Elanna to the doorway and pointed
down the hall towards the direction of the bathroom and the kitchen
farther on. She smiled at B'Elanna's nod of comprehension, gave her a
hug for luck then joined the others in quietly leaving the house.

Left alone, B'Elanna crept up to the bathroom door, listened for a
moment, heard nothing, then rounded the end of the stairs and sat on
the third step up while she waited for him to come out.

---

Sunfire heaved a sigh of relief.  She had been very close to beaming
him out of there when she had heard via monitoring his subdermal
communicator that the Klingon bitch was on her way there.  But that
had not been necessary after all as Tom had evaded her without her
help or prodding to do so.

'If only Voyager's systems weren't so iffy right now with the
alterations,' she bemoaned.  'I could listen in on what they were
saying and doing if their systems were a bit more reliable at the
moment.  I would have known she was on her way.  If he hadn't come out
of the bathroom when he had, he never would have known she was on her
way there and would have come face to face with her.  That's the last
thing he needs.'

Still, monitoring Tom was what was most important and she continued to
do so without a word to him, especially not about how close his close
call with Torres had been.

---

"Jenny, you're my twin sister and I love you, but frankly, right now,
I don't want to see you."

Despite Megan's stated disinterest in her company, Jenny sat down
opposite her in the pub booth.  It had been days since the twins had
last spoken and Jenny hated not being able to talk to her "other
half."  But, though she wanted her sister back, she still did not see
she did anything wrong and until she accepted some of the blame for
what happened with Tom Paris, Megan was unwilling to take her back.

"Look, Meg, if you're waiting for an apology, you'll be waiting a long
time.  I didn't know anyone was with Geron.  He called, asked me if I
was alone then asked me to repeat what Nozawa and I had seen Kim and
Torres doing on Dartin VIII.  Since he was there right after it
happened, I didn't see any reason not to do as he asked.  Couldn't
figure out why he was asking, but he broke off the conversation before
I could ask."  She leaned forward, forearms on the worn wooden booth
table.  "That's what happened.  Nothing malicious on my part.  I'm not
going to apologize for any of it.  Nor am I going to tell you I'm
sorry he knows.  Were it me, I'd want to know."

"It was an innocent kiss."

"Innocent?  Megan, I was there.  Try 'thorough.'"

"There's nothing between them but a close friendship."

"Very close," she smirked.

Megan glared.

Jenny sobered.  "Okay, joking aside, whatever it was, it happened.
They should have told him."  She hurried on before Megan could object.
"But that was their decision, no one else's, yes.  But he knows now.
Everyone has to move on from this point.  Paris.  Torres. Kim.  You.
Me.  Geron.  Everyone."

Her sister snorted at the inclusion of the Bajoran's name.

"He loves you, Megan.  Very much.  He just freaked out for a while,
but it's understandable.  He's so much younger than we are.
Chronologically and in experience.  He's never been in a serious
relationship before.  He thought he was losing you to Tom Paris -- an
older, more experienced, former boyfriend -- and he reacted badly."

"You seem rather firmly on his side," she remarked with suspicion.

"After an incident in a turbolift where he thought I was you for a few
seconds, I had to listen to him going on and on ad nauseum about this,
Meg.  And what he did is nothing you or me or any number of people
would not have done in the same circumstances."

Again she opened her mouth to object.  Again her sister cut her off.
This time, instead of a long rebuttal, it was only two words.  A name.
Specifically, the name of a long ago boyfriend, one who had dumped
Megan for another girl and Megan had "flipped out" as her sister
usually termed it.

Megan instantly understood her twin's meaning and closed her mouth.
Her eyes dropped to the tabletop.

"You can't hold the rest of us to standards even you can't achieve,
sis.  You forgave Torres and Kim.  Forgive Geron too.  He wants that
and you do too.  You miss him.  I know you do.  You two have been
practically inseparable for months.  This not seeing him at all, it
has to be as wearing on you as it is on him.  And on those of us who
hear him moan about it."

"I... Yes, I miss him."

"Then take him back and put him and all of us out of our misery.
Looking at his hound dog face is depressing all of us."

"I'm still mad at you two."

"Fine.  Be mad, just stop making us out as the worst kind of villains
and start talking to us again."

Her sister stared out the pub window for a while.  "You sound like the
New Kildareans I ran into at that ceildh."

"What New Kildareans?"

"Oh, I went there trying to get away from Geron, only he followed me
and was pestering me to talk to him-"

"Which you are going to try to do."

She made a face, but did not deny it.  "And this group of well-meaning
women caught me while their husbands caught Geron and they took each
of us off to tell us the facts of life."

Jenny laughed at that.  "Gee, Meg, were they any better at explaining
it than Mom was?  I thought she was going to die from shame."

"The fact that women have to put up with men and vice versa."

"Oh, well they were right about that.  There are fringe benefits for
us if we d-"

Megan followed Jenny's eyes in the direction of whatever it was that
had made her stop talking.  "What?"

"I thought you said he was in the hospital or something?"

"Who?"

"Tom Paris."

"He was but Sunfire beamed him to some place quiet to recuperate
because the Doctor and the local doc in charge of Tom's case thought
he wouldn't get any sleep with us around.  Why?"

"I swear I just saw him come in."

"Impossible.  The Doctor said Tom looked like he was in bad shape.
Exhausted and weak from not eating or not eating properly.  He
wouldn't be in a pub.  It's probably someone who just looks like him.
On our way here I passed something like half a dozen people with the
same colouring as him.  Considering the settlers of this planet,
that's hardly surprising."

"I guess so."

"What would Tom be doing in a pub at his hour?  After all the
O'Connells say he dotes on M'Nea Madeleine.  If he's well enough to be
out of bed, he'd be with...."

"What?"

"I think I know where he is."  She shot to her feet and rushed out.

"Meg?"  Jenny was about to follow when the handsomest man she ever had
seen walked up and asked if the seat opposite her was taken.  Hormones
won over blood and she forgot about her sister.

---

Across the pub, out of Jenny's sight, Tom Paris sat on a barstool and
ordered what he planned on being the first of many drinks.  He did not
have an exact number in mind.  Basically, just enough to make him
forget everything and everyone for a while and let him pass into
dreamless sleep.

He had reached five when the man on the next stool struck up a
conversation with him and suggested he show him another pub, one where
the drinks were not so watered down.  That last comment was aimed at
the bartender who knew him and had been doing her best to keep him
from getting drunk as per agreement with the man's wife she said.
When she was not looking, he led the more than a little intoxicated
Tom out of the establishment and down the street to another.

Though Tom was a seasoned drinker, or alcoholic that The Protectors
had had him be as a cover, on an empty stomach and in his current
mood, the amount of alcohol he had imbibed was like twice the amount
in his system.  Because of this, Tom barely recognized Stephane when
his new friend literally collided with his old.

"Tom?" Stephane gulped.  "What the Hell are you doing here?  You were
in the bathroom at the O'Connell's when we left."

"I escaped," Tom shrugged, wishing the shorter man would stop moving
so.  "Heard what all of you had planned for me and didn't want to see
her.  Not ready for that confrontation just yet, thanks all the same."

"Not yet?"

"Nope."

"So maybe later?"

"Maybe."  He looked around for his new friend and found him to be
nowhere in sight.  "Where'd he go?  He was going to introduce me to
this fabulous drink the bartender here concocts."

"Never mind him, Tom.  You come with me."

"But I want another drink."

"Fine.  Come over here where everyone's sitting and we'll get you
another drink."

"Everyone?" Tom repeated, permitting Stephane to lead him over to a
booth.  Blinking, he was able to identify Maire, Maaike, Kieran, and
Kaatje.  Beside Maaike was a man Tom vaguely recognized as her younger
brother, Niels.  The final man of the group was one he didn't
recognize at all.  "Who are you?" he asked bluntly.

"This is Declan," Maire explained.  "My boyfriend."

"Oh.  You part of this conspiracy too?"

The man blinked at his girlfriend then Tom.  "Conspiracy?"

"To get me back together with B'Elanna?  She lied to me you know.
They tell you that?  Lied to me and slept with my best friend.  Ha,
some best friend."

"Tom-" Stephane tried to correct him only he would not let him.

He waved the topic off with a wild gesture of his arms.  "But I don't
want to talk about them.  I don't want to talk about any of them."  He
dropped into a space left beside Maaike in the large booth.  "I just
want a drink.  Stephane, my man, you promised me a drink.  Where is
it?"

"Tom, I think you've had enough."

"Nope.  I can still remember what she looks like so I'm certainly not
drunk enough.  Bring on the drinks.  And make mine a double."

"I really should beg off," Maaike sighed.  "I have to do a lecture
tomorrow and I'm not prepared."

"Nah," Tom dismissed, putting an arm around her.  "Just reuse the one
from last semester.  The history of information mediums and their uses
hasn't changed much since then I'll bet."

"Well, no they haven't, but still-"

"But still nothing.  Stay and have a drink.  Stephane, you're still
here and the drinks aren't.  One of those two must change and change
quickly."

As Tom began chatting to Maaike about the "lovely coloured sweater"
she was wearing, Stephane looked helplessly at the others.  Finally
Niels, seated opposite Tom in the booth, slid out and whispered
something to Stephane.  They exchanged a few more words then a nod and
they went off to place their drink order at the bar.  A quick glance
was sent over Niels' shoulder indicating he had a plan and everyone
else was to humour Tom.  So they did.

---

In one of the old motion pictures she and Tom had watched with Harry,
entry had been gained into a room by picking the lock.  After having
sat on the stair step for what felt like hours, B'Elanna was about
ready to try this.  Tom still had not surfaced from the bathroom and
she was beginning to think he was asleep in there.  Or worse, he had
drowned in the toilet or something.  It was a shame to risk damaging
exquisite woodwork that was the bathroom door and hall floor or the
ironwork that was the door's lock, but she was getting desperate.
There had not been a sound from in there all the time she had been in
the house and she was worried.  True, she could have just gone and
knocked on the door, but she was worried he would bar the door somehow
if he had advance notice she was there and wanting to see him.  So she
had waited.

Just as she rose to go find something to use as a pry, the announcer
at the door chimed.  She waited, hoping Tom might come out of the
bathroom to answer it.  When he did not after three more chimes, she
did it herself.

Megan Delaney was standing on the doorstep.  "He is here, isn't he?"
she said to B'Elanna as more of a conclusion to an argument than a
question.

"Yes."  B'Elanna's impatience for the other woman to leave was
obvious.

"Have you got anywhere with him?"

"No, I haven't even seen him yet. Can you-"

"Haven't seen him?  Where is he?"

"In the bathroom."

"Oh."

The half-Klingon cast her gaze over her shoulder to see the bathroom
door remained closed, its occupant not roused by the sound of the
announcer or their voices.  "He's still in there," she murmured,
confused.

"How long has he been in there?"

"Since before I got here."

"When was that?"

She consulted the old style timepiece hanging on the wall.  "Forty
minutes ago."  She released her grip on the door and stepped towards
the door.  Now she truly was worried.

"Forty minutes?" Megan repeated, coming in and closing the door behind
her.  "What's he doing?  Taking a bath?"

"No.  They said he was feeling ill."  B'Elanna reached for the handle
to check that it was locked and she was going to have to pick her way
inside.  There was no resistance when she turned the knob.  The door
silently swung open on its well-oiled hinges and the empty bathroom
was revealed to them.  "Where is he?  They told me he was in there."

Megan grabbed the near-panicking woman and shook her gently.  "If they
said he was here somewhere, then he is.  I'll check the upstairs, you
check down here."

The redhead dashed up the stairs and the brunette flew from one empty
room the next.  The kitchen was the last place she went and finding it
empty, she was about to go up the back stairs to join Megan's search
when her eyes fell upon the padd on the table.

Ten minutes later, Megan found her seated at the table, the padd in
hand.

"B'Elanna, what is it?"

"I just spent forty minutes waiting in an empty house for a man who'd
gone out before I'd even arrived."

"What?"  She read the note on the padd.  "'Seanair and Seanmhair, I've
gone out for a while.  Be back later.  Don't wait up for me.  Tom.'
Damn that man."

"He knew I was coming."

"What makes you say that?"

"Why else would he leave?  He somehow found out I was coming and left
so he wouldn't see me."

"I doubt it.  How would he have?"

"I don't know.  It's just really coincidental that before I can get
here, he leaves a note and skips out.  See the time index on the padd?
Mere minutes before I left.  Probably about the time Nana was
contacting me.  He must have overheard her and made himself scarce so
he wouldn't have to be in the same house as me."

"Then we're going to have to be sneakier if we want to see him.  If
you're right and he left because you were going to be here, then
logically he'll come back when he thinks you're gone.  Right?  So we
just make him think you're gone and he'll come into the house and
that's when we pounce on him."

"'We?'  Look, I know you want to see him and explain and all, but I
really think I need to see him a bit more than you do.  I'm the one he
thinks betrayed him."

"Exactly and without someone to corroborate your story he'll never
believe you.  I need to be here to tell him the truth.  *Then* he
might be willing to listen to you."

The two women argued back and forth for a while then B'Elanna conceded
and they began their long wait for Tom.

---

Hours later, when Nana, Oran, and M'Nea Madeleine returned home from a
neighbours' house, they found Megan and B'Elanna sound asleep together
on Tom's bed, the padd bearing Tom's message laying between them.
After reading it, it became simple to guess the women's intents.  They
had figured Tom would come into his room, ready to go to bed and find
the two of them sitting there, waiting for him.  There would be no
escaping them.  Only Tom had not returned and they had fallen asleep.

The O'Connell's removed the women's boots and combadges and covered
them with a quilt them left them to their rest.

When they returned downstairs, they made a pot of tea to drink while
they waited up for Tom to come home.  They planned to warn him about
the surprises in his bed before he crawled in with them and found out
for himself.  Oran passed the comm unit and saw the message indicator
was flashing.  He keyed it to play and they found out precisely where
Tom was and why he had not come home yet.

Sighing, they finished their tea and went to bed, hoping Niels'
bizarre plan was going to work better than theirs had.

---

"Captain?"

"What is it, E'Di?"

"This, sir."  The T'Ar's First Officer indicated what he and the
technician manning the sensor station had discovered.

I'Ra crossed the Bridge to check their discovery out.  "Who are they
and what are they doing so far from Gherop space?"

"The C'Cri, Captain.  According to our records, they're supposed to be
patrolling the border with the X'Kri'Ri."

"They're certainly a long way from there."

"Judging by the look of her, they clearly have sustained heavy damage
in the recent and not so recent past.  Perhaps their sensors are out
and they're flying blind that's why they're way out here."

"If that's the case, then they're about to get even more lost. Their
flight path will take them right into the dust cloud we are detecting
at the extreme edge of our long range sensors."

"Precisely where we want to go."

"What?"

"So far it seems the trail we have been following leads straight into
that cloud.  No deviation, no slowing down.  So either the ship we're
following was having sensor trouble too or..."

"Or it and the C'Cri know something we don't."

"Yes, sir."

He looked at the tiny ship on screen.  It was not even a hundredth of
the size of the T'Ar, a ship that dwarfed any it encountered.  How the
C'Cri had managed to hold together this long, he did not know.  Nor
would he make a guess about whether the C'Cri knew where it was going
on or was just flying blind.  If was the former, there was no way such
an old ship in obvious disrepair was going to best them while he was
Captain.

"How long until we reach the cloud?"

"Slightly more than an interval."

"How long till the C'Cri gets there?"

"They'll arrive not long before we do."

"Increase velocity.  If that *is* where Voyager and Sunfire went, I
want to get there before the C'Cri."

---

E'Cta was not happy already.  R'Eti knew this.  They had the conundrum
of why Voyager would enter a dust cloud and was it willingly done or
were they experiencing mechanical difficulties and had blundered into
it.  That was aggravating enough.  When she was told about the ship
they had just detected coming into range, she knew her captain's mood
would only get worse.  But she had to be told just the same.

R'Eti stepped up to E'Cta's command chair in the centre of the C'Cri's
Bridge.  "Captain," she said quietly, "one of our ships is coming into
range.  It is the T'Ar."

"What?!  How far are they?"

"They've just increased their velocity.  They'll soon overtake us."

"This is our capture, not theirs."

"We're already at maximum velocity.  The engines will fail again if we
try to get anymore speed out of them.  Perhaps we can work with the
T'Ar?  Shared glory is still glory."

"No.  I know the reputation of the T'Ar's captain.  He shares glory
with no one, not even his own officers.  No, we have to see to it we
get Voyager first.  Go to Engineering and impress upon them the need
for them to get more out of the engines."

"Yes, E'Cta.  And if the T'Ar tells us to withdraw?"

"If it comes to that, I have a plan.  Never fear."

---

"-And so I think you should talk to her."

Looking away from the EMH, Harry shook his head in disbelief.  "I knew
she'd been rather cold towards me lately, but I didn't know she hadn't
heard the true story yet."

"Well, she hasn't apparently."

They moved out of the centre of the corridor so a group on their way
into the Mess Hall behind Harry and the Doctor could pass them and get
to breakfast.

"And she won't stay in one place long enough for me to tell her
either.  Any time she sees me coming now, she finds some excuse to
leave.  I seriously have considered sneaking up behind her and
administering a muscle relaxant so she can't run away."

"Let me try talking to her then."

"That's what I had in mind, but you'll probably will have even less
luck than I've had."

"Why?"

"Remind me when the activity around here's calmed down a bit to book
you for an eye test.  Didn't you notice how Seven was constantly
hovering over you before Miss Wildman blurted things out?  Apparently
Mr. Paris suggested she 'be there for you.'  How do you think they
came to that topic?  What reason comes to mind for the subject of you
needing someone to be there for you?  Keep in mind, when he said this
to her, they were going on the yatelite mining and the idea of his
leaving Voyager probably wasn't even in his head yet.  Doesn't that
suggest anything to you?  It sure does to me and others."

"Are you trying to suggest she might have fe-"

"I'm trying to suggest you go find her, tell her what really happened
between you and Lieutenant Torres and find out what she 'might have.'
Good luck, Ensign."

He turned and walked away, leaving Harry wide-eyed as he considered
the possible interpretation of Seven's recent actions and what he was
going to do about it if the most likely conclusion he was drawing
actually was the correct one.

---

Tom's head hurt.  His head, his entire body, even his hair hurt.  When
the craving for a drink or ten had overtaken his reformed alcoholic's
body and mind and he had almost heard the "nectar of the gods" calling
to him from pub, they conveniently had forgotten to remind him about
the pain he would have to endure the morning after.  The pain and the
taste of old socks in his mouth.  During the post-Caldik Prime months,
when he had not been off on Missions for The Protectors, he had spent
a lot of time in an alcoholic haze as part of the cover story they had
set up for him. Last night had been the first time he had drank to
excess and have it be of his own free will.  He had remembered how,
when he had been intoxicated, he had had a few hours' respite from his
memories and life.  That was what he had wanted so desperately and had
tried for. True, he had little memory of the previous evening after
entering the pub and certainly had no idea how he had arrived in this
bedroom, wherever it was or to whom it belonged.

Risking more pain and torture, he minutely turned his head towards his
right, fearing it would be a repeat of so many mornings after he had
been drinking.  He was lucky this time and there was not a hitherto
unknown female in the other half of the bed.  It was bad enough he
could not remember the names of half of the women he had taken into
his bed or vice versa back then.  Now he was a different man.  He
really did not want to recommence a life of promiscuity, not after
knowing what monogamy with someone you loved could be like.

Whether it was the thought of B'Elanna that made him nauseous or just
his hangover, it did not matter.  He was up and diving for the
bathroom in an instant.

"Tom?" an overly cheerful voice called from the bedroom five minutes
later.  "Where are you?"

He must have made some sound for Maaike appeared in the doorway
seconds later.

"Oh, you look horrible."

He felt too *horrible* to even glare at her.

Maaike came further into the bathroom and started filling the tub,
tossing in a generous scoop of bath salts.  Through half-open eyes, he
watched her via the mirrored wall behind the sink as she straightened,
eyed him up and down and approached him.  She stepped behind him and
stroked both cheeks of his posterior without saying a word.

That woke him better than any cold shower ever could have.  His eyes
suddenly were wide open.  "Hello?" Tom blinked at her, half turning as
she began stroking his back.  "Why are we getting so friendly all of a
sudden?"

"Does any part of you hurt any worse than any other?" she asked, now
running her hands over his chest and hips.

"Just my head," he said cautiously.

Immediately upon hearing this, her hands grasped his head and bent it
downwards, tilting it this way and that, clearly checking for
something and not finding it.  "Nope, not there either."

The hands slid down his neck, across his shoulders, and started down
his biceps.  He gave an involuntary yelp of pain and she grinned.

"I knew you couldn't get away without one," she laughed, pulling up
his sweater and dropping it on the floor.

"One what?  Hey, stop tha- What's that?"  His eyes fastened on the
white bandage encircling his upper left arm.

From underneath, she peeled back the edge of the bandage enough to
peep inside then let it slide back into place.  Giving it a pat and
grin broadening as he stiffened and bit back another yelp, she went to
check temperature of the water in the tub.

Curiosity overwhelming his irritation with his friend, Tom peeled back
the gauze for a peek himself as Kieran walked into the room, shirtless
and also evidently hung over.

"Ah, you too, eh?"

"Oh, gods," Tom groaned, bandage falling back into place as his hand
dropped and his head fell back, eyes closed.

"At least yours is somewhere where you can see it.  I couldn't figure
out why my shoulder hurt so bad until Kaatje complimented me on my new
artwork.  That was after she tore a strip off my back for us menfolk
abandoning our women last night without a word."

Tom opened his eyes as Kieran turned his back.  There on one shoulder
blade was a beautiful five centimetre square design incorporating his
wife's name and some abstract geometric shapes.

"Now that I see you've got one too," he said, turning to face him
again, "it appears all of us guys got one.  You should see Stephane's.
His is something.  No one even knew he was crazy about Patrice-Therese
Flanagan until we saw we saw the PTF scrawled across his bicep.
Rather sweet really.  He turned three shades of red when this one-" He
jerked a thumb towards the grinning Maaike -- "wanted to go call her
and tell her to come over and see what Stephane had done."

The pilot brought both hands up to cover his face, winced as the
action put pressure on his left bicep, and dropped that hand.  "Why
did we do this?"  He had to grab the countertop as another wave of
nausea hit him.

"Sit down before you fall down," Maaike admonished and helped him to
the vanity bench.  She dropped to her knees and began removing his
socks.  "You really put them away last night.  Looked like you've had
some practice in that department."

Tom did not answer and she went on.

"But at least you didn't get up on the table and take your clothes off
or anything stupid to embarrass us so we couldn't ever go back to that
pub.  That's my favourite watering hole I think you called it last
night and I'd hate to get banned from there.  Kieran, shut off the
water?"

As he did, she urged Tom to his bare feet and her hands went for the
fastening on his jeans.  Before Tom could do it, Kieran finished his
task, came over and brushed her hands away.

"I'll take care of this part.  You go get some towels from the linen
closet."

Maaike shrugged and went across the room.

"Come on, Tom, out of those and into the tub.  You'll feel better
after a bath.  Trust me.  I do.  Just mind you don't get your tattoo
wet. It'll sting like you wouldn't believe."

The jeans and underwear were discarded and Tom soon was sinking down
into warm water murky with the bath salts.  He realized Maaike
probably had seen everything he owned, but with his pounding head,
throbbing arm, and brain in confusion, he did not care at this point.

"Why did we 'abandon the womenfolk' and get tattoos?" he repeated.

Kieran shrugged.

Maaike set the towels on the side of the tub and gently but firmly
placed Tom's tattooed left arm onto them.  "Don't remember that, hmm?"
She shook her head at him and reached for a sponge.  "Nor does Kieran,
Stephane or Declan.  Poor Declan.  Maire introduces him to us all for
the first time and what does that reprobate of a brother of mine do?
Drag you all out to get tattoos.  The old fashioned kind with needles
and ink."  She squeezed some liquid soap onto the sponge and soaped
Tom's chest.  "Niels.  I love him, but I could strangle him some
times.  At least it wasn't anything ridiculously huge like a dragon
across each of your backs or something disgusting across your butts."

He took the sponge from her to get her attention.  "Niels had
something to do with this?"

"He hasn't admitted anything per se, but I grew up with the monster.
I know when he's holding something back and if there's some mischief
in the works, he's usually right there in the middle of it.  Plus he
wasn't nearly as drunk as the rest of you morons.  No doubt when
Kaatje, Maire and I left you five alone while we talked to some
friends across the room, he was the one who suggested you all go off
for tattoos.  I should have known something was up with the way he
became very interested when Declan mentioned having met Commander
Chakotay and seeing his tattoo.  You're not totally to blame either, I
might add, Tom Paris.  You were the one who apparently brought up the
popularity of tattoos in the Twentieth Century."

"Ah, Hell."

"But after we came back to the table and found you boys gone, we
didn't know what had happened to you five until we came here to drop
off Kaatje and found the lot of you making you way through the
contents of the liquor cabinet."  She grabbed back her sponge and
returned to her work.  "As if you bunch needed any more alcohol in
you."

"I don't remember any of it."

Kieran rubbed his aching head.  "I vaguely remember some comment about
body piercing too."

At this possibility, Maaike dropped her sponge in the bath water,
splashing both her and Tom.  As she scanned what of Tom she could see
for foreign objects, she automatically dipped in a hand to retrieve
the sponge, only to have Tom catch her before she caught "him" by
mistake in her groping for the AWOL bath aid.  The water in the face
had roused him sufficiently from his disbelief at what he had done to
himself and the ramifications of what it was to register what was
going on and see it had to be stopped, however innocent her helping
him bathe was.

"I'll take care of the rest, thanks," he assured her.

Nodding, she rose and went for another towel.

"So," Kieran said with a grin, "I've shown you mine, you show me
yours."

Tom looked at him blankly.

"The tattoo."

Slowly, Tom wiped his wet right hand on the towels under his left arm
then he unwound the bandage.

Both Maaike and Kieran frowned at the foreign characters.

"What's it say anyway?" Maaike asked.

"It's Klingon," the owner of the artwork answered quietly.  "It says
'B'Elanna's.'"

Kieran whistled.  "I've heard of Klingons marking their mates, but
never the mate marking themselves."

"She's not my mate," he corrected.  "Not anymore."

"Sounds like your subconscious is trying to tell you the opposite,"
Maaike shrugged.  "Like it still loves her and wants her."

"She loves Harry.  I've explained all that.  Whatever it might want,
it can't have.  She's not ours to have.  She's Harry's."

"If you've conceded the fight and decided to let him keep her, what's
her name doing on your bicep?  You may think she's someone else's, you
may want to step out of the way and permit them to be together if
that's what they want, but that's not what *you* really want.  And
when exactly does Tom Paris get to have what he wants?"  She flipped
the towel over the drying rack as she left the room.

The other New Kildarean sat on the side of the tub.  "She has a point.
She and Stephane told us about what you said about B'Elanna and Harry.
Kaatje and I haven't met them yet, but from what Maire's told us, your
version of things isn't quite right."

"I know what I heard and what I saw."

"Do you?"  He stood.  "P.J. called a few minutes ago.  She says the
clone has almost matured.  When you've finished your bath, we'll have
breakfast and go to the lab to check on him.  If you can face
breakfast.  I certainly can't."

"I have to contact the O'Connells and-"

"Maire did that last night.  They know you're here.  I'll leave you to
think about what we've said.  See you downstairs."

Tom sat there in the rapidly cooling water for some time doing just
that.  When he finally rose and wrapped himself in the towels, he
still was as confused as he was earlier with the exception of one
thing -- he knew he had to see B'Elanna one last time.  It would be
torture, he knew, but it had to be done or his subconscious never
would give him any peace, arguing 'what if they're right and you're
wrong about her and Harry?'

---

B'Elanna and Megan awoke at the same time and nearly screamed at
seeing someone else in the other half of the bed.  When their hearts
stopped pounding, they looked around, puzzled over the quilt under
which they were lying then scrambled out of the bed and down the
stairs.

In the kitchen, they found, not the man they sought, but his
grandmother and daughter.

"Tom didn't come home," Nana said before they could ask.  She
abandoned the vegetables she had just picked from her garden and was
washing in the sink.  "He stayed the night at a friend's house.
Apparently, the ones you met here last night, B'Elanna, went to a pub
for a drink and were surprised when Tom came in.  He'd too much to
drink and they took him home to one of their places since it was
closer."

B'Elanna grabbed her forearm.  "Where is it?  This place of theirs?"

"On the other side of town, but don't go there or you'll ruin things."

"What?"

The younger woman's hand dropped from the forearm as Nana's hands
rose to smooth back the wild tangles that was B'Elanna's dark brown
hair.  "Tom said some things last night that make them think he will
come find you."

Megan moved forward a little.  "Did he say he was going to talk to
B'Elanna?"

"Not in so many words, no, but they had the impression that was what
was going to happen.  They are working on him.  And speaking of work,
don't you two have to get back to your ship?  I contacted your Captain
just a while ago and told her where you were and what had happened so
she wouldn't worry.  How about I get you some breakfast and take you
to the OPRF?"

"But Tom-" his mate tried to argue.

"Should come to you when he's ready to talk if all goes well.  If he
makes the first move, the chances of him actually listening as you two
try to work things out will be better.  Okay?  Okay.  The Captain
identified you as Megan Delaney," she told B'Elanna's companion.  "I'm
Nana O'Connell."

The two guests settled down to a simple breakfast at the kitchen
table, their posture slumped as they realized yet another plan to see
Tom had failed.

---

"I have to tell them, Neelix," Sam insisted.

Hurrying to match the adults' longer strides down the hall to Kieran
and Kaatje's lab, Naomi looked from her mother to godfather and back
again.  "Tell them what, Mommy?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, honey.  It's between Neelix and I
and them."

"Oh."

"I agree," Neelix sighed.  "They seem like nice people.  I'm sure
they'll understand we were just thinking of Voyager's safety and-"

"Tommy!"  Naomi broke into a run towards the three people just
rounding the corner.

Kieran, Kaatje and Tom Paris all paused for a moment, surprised to see
the trio coming from the other direction.  Before they could move
again, Tom had to make a fast catch of the little girl who leapt at
him.

"Tommy."

Tom winced inwardly as the act of holding her caused his biceps to
flex and the newly tattooed skin hidden under his sweater pulled and
stung.  "What are you doing today, Cucumber?"

Hearing the opening strain of their usual game, she grinned so broadly
her smile almost needed another face to contain it all.  "I'm not a
cucumber"

"Are you sure?"  He plucked at the dark green play outfit she wore.
"You sure look like one."

"No," she giggled.  "You're silly."

Tom looked aghast.  "Me silly?  Never!  I'm not the one who thinks
they're a vegetable."

Naomi began giggling harder and threw her arms about his neck.  "I've
missed you so, Tommy.  I even forgive you for lying to me about why
you left."

"Naomi!" her mother said sharply.

His blue eyes clouded with confusion, he met Sam and Neelix's gazes
over Naomi's shoulder.  Or he would have if they had been looking at
him not anywhere but him.  "What are you talking about?" he asked the
child very carefully.

"About *them.*"

Tom had a sick feeling in his stomach and it was not residual
hangover.  Carefully, he lowered Naomi to her feet and squatted beside
her.  "Who's them?" he asked though he already thought he knew.

"Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim.  I know about them.  I heard
Crewman Ver telling Crewman Geron about them and Crewman Geron telling
the Prophets that he already knew because he had told you about them
because Lieutenant Jenny Delaney and Ensign Nozawa saw them on that
planet and Lieutenant Megan Delaney told them not to say anything."

"I see."

"But there's more to the story than that," Neelix hastened to add.
"You have to talk to-"

"I have to talk to Kieran and Kaatje right now."  The pilot kissed
Naomi's temple and stood.  "Excuse us."  He continued down the hall
and into Kieran and Kaatje's lab without a backward glance.

Kaatje caught Neelix's arm when he made to follow.  "Let us handle
this," she whispered.

"You?  But-"

"Let us handle this."  She backed up her firm tone with an equally
firm squeeze of his arm then released him.  The two New Kildareans
walked the last few metres to their lab and closed the door behind
them.

"You think they know what's going on?" Sam whispered.

"What else could they be referring to when they say they'll handle
it?" Neelix shrugged.

"We still didn't tell the Kirkpatricks what we did."

"Later.  Let's go."

---

Kieran bolted the lab door from the inside then smiled at Tom's back
as he walked towards the spot where his project had been the last time
he was in the lab.  When Kieran would have said something to their
guest, Kaatje shook her head at him and deliberately took Tom's arm to
steer him into the lab next door.

"We moved him over here," she explained then engaged their assistant
in P.J., or Junior as she sometimes was known, in conversation.  "Any
change, Junior?" she enquired, releasing Tom's arm.  Immediately, he
crossed the lab to the fully formed duplicate of himself floating in
the maturation chamber.

"His readings are approaching normal," P.J. replied, "but he's still
asleep."  Her eyes never left Tom Paris -- the one that was dressed
and checking the readouts on the naked one floating before them.
"It's kind of weird.  Seeing two of them, I mean.  Seeing identical
twins or triplets or whatever is sort of weird, but in a curiosity
sort of way. This is weird in a Frankenstein sort of way."

"You get used to it," Tom assured her.  "He should be ready to come
out within an hour.  We should get towels.  Paris to Sunfire, can you
send the-"

A stack of towels appeared.

"Thanks."

"Tom," Kaatje began, "I think you should know Mr. Neelix and Sam
Wildman were in the lab the other night.  The lab next door actually.
They didn't see anything.  We hid your clone in here and brought in
the experiment you saw sitting in its place.  It belongs to two
colleagues of ours who are experimenting on sunflowers and their
properties.  We made the plants look like they'd always been there and
our 'burglars' bought it."

"Why'd they break in?"

Kieran answered that one for her.  "The other day, Sam attempted to
come into our lab -- the one next door -- and we wouldn't let her
because you wanted this to be our secret.  She got suspicious that we
might be withholding some information dangerous to Voyager and
recruited Neelix to help her.  He apparently is training with
Security."

"He does off and on, yes."

"Anyway, they were over at our house for dinner and I guess they
underestimated our hearing because we were in the kitchen and heard
almost their entire conversation out on the back patio.  So the three
of us came up with this idea."

Junior sighed.  "And I had to miss seeing the look on their faces when
they saw the flowers and the research notes we left lying around."

"You needed sleep," Kaatje soothed in her most motherly tone.  "You
were exhausted."

"As long as they left with their curiosity satisfied?" Tom asked.

"Yes, they did.  Not too sure what they were doing here today though."

Her husband laid a hand on her shoulder.  "Probably just to ask us out
to lunch or something."

"Probably."

The four of them lapsed into a silence for the next hour as they
prepared for the "birth."  The quiet was punctuated only by P.J.'s
occasional yawns or Tom's instructions or answers to the geneticists'
questions.  When the time came, the talking and yawning stopped all
together.

The readings on the tank changed from red to green.  Whipping off his
sweater and tossing it aside, Tom motioned for everyone to step away
from the tank as a brief electrical charge zapped through the water
and the body within it.  The clone jerked then it opened his eyes and
began thrashing about in the amnion and fluid of his synthetic womb.

Tom slid the stiletto out of the sheath in his boot as the tank's seal
hissed as it automatically broke and the lid split into to quarters
and slid out of the way.  While the women readied themselves with
towels Kieran rushed around to the far end of the tank, ready to do
his part. Tom neatly slit the sac, tossed the knife to the floor and
grabbed his clone before he could drown.  "On three Kieran.  One, two,
three, lift."

The men lifted the clone out of the artificial amniotic fluid and onto
the bed of towels they had made on the floor nearby.  While Tom
snatched the towel away from P.J. and began cleaning his duplicate up
like the baby he more or less was, Kieran took the one from his wife
and wiped his arms and T-shirt front.

"I should have taken off my shirt too," he grumbled.

"There's a clean one in your bottom desk drawer," his wife reminded
him.  "A couple actually I think."

"Oh, yeah.  How is he, Tom?"

Tom looked at P.J. who was scanning the clone with a medical
tricorder.

"He looks okay," she responded.  "His heart rate and adrenaline are
rather high."

"That's understandable considering what he's been through," Tom
nodded.  "And we're claustrophobic so that doesn't help."  He took
another large towel from Kaatje and draped it around the clone.  "How
do you feel?"

The clone frowned for a moment then sighed.  "Tired," he whispered.
It was an effort for him to form the words.  Though his brain had all
the knowledge of how to do everything the original Tom Paris could, it
still was hard for him, never having done it before.  "Tired and
sticky."

His "father" smiled down at him.  "And you smell funny too."

"Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome." He looked to the others.  "I cannot thank you enough
for watching over him.  We'll contact you later.  Sunfire?"

The two Tom's, the discarded sweater and stiletto, and the towels all
vanished.  Seconds later, all traces of the tank and what had happened
there were gone.  All that was left as proof anything had occurred was
a drying stickiness on Kieran shirt and arms.

---

"As if there aren't enough of them in the Universe, he's gone and
created another," Q groaned, shaking her head.

Q nodded distractedly.

"What is it?"

He looked at her.  "I was just wondering if we should help them
along."

"Help who along?"

"Them."

"If you're thinking of fixing their ship for them-"

"Not that.  They're practically done that anyway.  No, I meant, what
if we put him in a room with them.  And made sure they couldn't
leave."

"Whatever for?"

"I'm tired of waiting around for this to happen.  I'm getting bored."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that in reference to your precious
humans."

"I'm not bored with them, just this constant evasion.  They get this
close to seeing him and bamn, something happens to throw a spanner
into the works as they say.  I'd just like to move things along a
little. And I think that ship's got to be the first thing to go.  She
keeps getting in the way."

"It looks like things *are* about to move along, but in quite a
different manner.  Look."

He followed her pointing finger towards the two Gherop ships that were
closing in on the dust cloud.  "Hmm.  This is a promising
development."

"Exactly.  So hold off on your meddling."

He nodded, but while her attention was diverted, he did a little
creative adjustment to a certain two identical ships.  Not that the
ships in question noticed at the time.  One was not activated yet.
The other was too concerned with her Tom Paris to notice.

---

"Better?"

Clean and dressed in jeans and a purple sweater, the clone settled
into his chair, nodding.  "I didn't expect I'd be this weak."

"The charge before you woke stimulated your atrophied muscles, but
you'll still need time to gather your strength.  You're less than an
hour old.  Give yourself some time."

Head falling against the chair back, he sighed then frowned. "What's
that?"

Tom had stripped off his stained jeans and underwear so he could help
the other him shower off the fluid.  When they had emerged and dried
off, there had been the chore of wrestling the still weak "newborn"
into his clothes and getting him comfortably situated.  It was only
now that Tom was able to dress in clean clothing.  Still shirtless,
the tattoo on his bicep was visible and perfectly legible to his
audience.

"'B'Elanna's?'" the clone read.  "That certainly is a strange choice
considering how things stand with her."

"Worse yet, Voyager's here, on New Kildare."  He outlined the
deception that had effected that particular event.

"And you two have made up?"  There was stunned surprise in his voice.

"No.  I haven't seen her or any of them except Doctor, Neelix, Sam
Wildman, and Naomi.  And that was by sheer coincidence."

"So why the tattoo?"

"I got drunk last night," he confessed, turning away and reaching for
his sweater.  "Maaike's brother took myself, Kieran, Stephane, and
Maire's boyfriend out to get tattoos."

"I thought we swore we'd never get drunk again."

No answer.

"So why'd you do it?"

Tom's now sweater-covered shoulders slumped.  He had wanted to keep
this from his clone in the hopes that at least one of them would not
have to deal with the same emotional fall out he was coping with.  'Or
not coping,' he admitted to himself.

"You did it, didn't you?  You destroyed their Homeworld?"

"No, I didn't.  I blew up one of their two main sources of fuel for
their ships and made sure they knew the reason why."

"Ah, symbolism."

"And I gave all the information Sunfire and I collected from their
databanks to a couple of species who have secretly been working on
sabotaging the Gherop Empire for some time now.  Not that the Gherop
know that's what they're up to.  I just hope it works."

"Good.  I'm glad you found another way."

Nodding, Tom turned back and saw his clone seated in front of him,
staring at his hands in fascination.  Though they could not read each
other's minds, he could guess what was going through the other's mind.
"It's hard, isn't it?  Seeing me and seeing you and knowing we're the
same but different."

He lowered his hands.  "Yes.  I know why we did this and we were
right.  This is the best way, but we never thought about how weird it
was going to feel."

"I know."  Tom reached out and took one of his duplicate's hands in
his, squeezing it.  He received a squeeze back and a rueful smile.
"Actually, the plan has changed."

The clone blinked.  "Why?  What happened?"

"I remembered something that gave me another idea, a better way of
achieving our goal.  The only thing is, if we try, I don't know how it
will turn out, just that we will achieve our goal."

"Tell me."

So Tom did.  When he finished his duplicate sat there in silence,
digesting it all.

"It's a daring plan," he finally pronounced.

"I know, but if it works...."  Tom left the words hanging since both
of them knew full well the implications of his plan *if* it could be
carried off.

"It is complicated.  Why don't we just do the new part?  It would
simplify things."

"And if something went wrong and we failed?  No, if either one of us
can't pull off our half of it at least we'll know the other has a
chance of succeeding."

"Double the chance of success.  Okay.  Let's do it.  So which one of
us stays with Voyager?"

Tom rubbed his temples.  "Considering our plans, it's got to be me.  I
have the Implant therefore I can hold out longer against The
Protectors if the need should arise."

"Headache again?"

"Yes."

"Sunfire, scan him."

"I'm detecting the pain centres in his brain are being activated but
not why," she told them.  "Try this."

A hypospray appeared near the clone.  He scooped it up and crossed to
Tom where he was seated on the bunk then pressed it against his neck.
"Better?"

Tom nodded.  "I don't know why they keep coming."

"Probably stress.  It's not like life's been all calm and peaceful for
you lately."

"Nor for you, but you're not having them."

"I don't know.  Maybe because technically you're older than I am.
Your body's been under stress longer than mine so it's showing it."

He snorted.  "So I'm showing my age?  Thanks."

A grin was sent back.  "You're welcome."  The clone sobered.  "Are you
sure you're going to be strong enough to do this?"

Tom caught his double's hand in his and squeezed.  "Yes."

"It would be simple enough to make another of us to try to do it."

He laughed.  "Like the Universe isn't in enough trouble with two of
us.  It was bad enough with one."

"I'm serious.  Another of us would be a help."

"And so would another.  And another.  Where would it end?  How many of
us would be enough?  And what about when this is all over?  Depending
on how the plan goes of course.  How fair would it be to the others?
We're all Tom Paris.  We all have the same memories.  We all have
equal right to Tom Paris' life, whatever it might end up being.  How
would we decide who gets to have it and who has to leave and establish
their own identity?  Flip a coin and whoever wins gets to keep the
name and the life?  This way is going to be difficult, but it is
best."

Mutely conceding the point, he sat next to his "father" and rested his
head on his shoulder.  Tom wrapped an arm around him and they stayed
like that for a long time.

---

"I can accomplish this task without assistance, Ensign," Seven
insisted then attempted to ignore Harry.  Considering they were the
only two people in that section of a cramped Jefferies tube, that was
not an easy thing to do.

Harry sat back and watched her work, but did not leave.  "I ran into
the Doctor in the corridor this morning when I was on my way to
breakfast.  He tracked me down actually.  Said he'd been trying to
talk to you for days now and you were avoiding him."

"We are busy.  I do not have the time to spare for idle gossip.  Nor
do I have the time now.  Your presence would be better served
elsewhere, Ensign Kim.  There still remains much to do."

"You're wrong.  About a lot of things actually, but especially about
my presence being better served elsewhere.  Everything else that has
to be done is covered."

"I find that hard to believe with all of the tasks still to be
completed."

"Fine, don't believe it."  He fell silent for a few moments as he
tried to decide the best way to introduce the topic of conversation he
wished to address.  In the end, he just blurted it out.  "B'Elanna and
I aren't having an affair.  We kissed each other once and that was
it."

She nearly dropped the tool in her hand.

"No one told you that, did they?"

Seven tried to focus on what she was doing and failed.  "No," she
answered in a bewildered voice.

"Thought not.  I should have guessed from the way you were so abrupt
with me lately, but I was so concerned about everything else.
Especially about B'Elanna slowly falling apart without Tom and her
having to deal with everyone knowing a big part of his leaving was our
faults that I didn't see how you were hurting."

She forced herself to resume her work.  "Mr. Paris' leaving has
impacted most of the crew and-"

"I'm not talking about Tom, Seven.  I'm talking about what hearing
B'Elanna and I might be lovers did to you."

"It was a surprise considering the suddenness of such a development
and the marked absence of any indicators of such an intimacy."

"An intimacy that didn't exist.  She and I kissed each other once,
months ago during a bizarre and emotional time.  I'll admit there was
a curiosity there, wondering what it would be like to kiss her, but
nothing more than that.  On her part it was a desperate attempt to
shove Tom from her mind and find someone else who was less...
complicated than he was.  Someone who wouldn't put her through the
emotional highs and lows that she goes through with Tom.  Made me feel
rather insulted actually, being called what amounted to 'dull' and
'safe' like that."

His companion did not comment.  Her mind was working furiously, trying
to process what he was saying.  It barely registered his removing the
tool from her hand to return it to its case then him turning her
around to face him.  It was not until she felt a hand on her chin,
tilting her face towards his, that she remembered he was even there.

"Unfortunately for you, her trying to turn to someone 'dull' and
'safe' ended up not only hurting her and me and Tom, but you too,
didn't it? You were upset to hear about the possibility she and I were
having an affair, weren't you?"

Lost in the depths of his brown eyes, she did not notice her usual
reserve melting away or feel herself nodding.

"Why, Seven?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know.  I just couldn't...."

"Couldn't what, Seven?"

"I was angry."

"Why?"

The former Borg seemed to realize how close he was, both in terms of
proximity and of uncovering a truth her subconscious was not quite
ready to let her accept.  She pulled back causing his hand to release
her.  Immediately, she turned her back on him and finished up her
work.  "Lieutenant Torres is not a proper match for one of your
temperament.  From my observations of her behaviour, I have found her
to be unpredictable, at times violent, and quixotic.  Seemingly
insignificant details can send her off into a rage.  The only person
who has ever managed to successfully diffuse her moments of
temperament is Mr. Paris.  Like Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Carey,
and Mr. Neelix, you have on occasion succeeded, to a degree, in
calming her. By my calculations, of all the attempts I have witnessed
made by you or another to pacify her, you personally have a success
rate of thirteen percent.  Mr. Paris has an eighty-two.  That,
combined with other factors, convinces me he is the better match for
her if she is considering a long-term mate."

"You have the heart of a romantic, Seven," he chuckled.

She looked at him over her shoulder.  "That too is one of the factors
in Mr. Paris' favour."

"He's more romantic than I am, hmm?"

"Given what humans consider romantic gestures, both subtle and not-so-
subtle, yes, he has demonstrated he is more adept in that field."

"You've never really seen me make any romantic gestures, Seven, so
it's a little premature to declare him more romantic."

"There were a few towards Souris."

Harry waited for the familiar dull ache to appear as it always did at
the mention of the name of the woman he had loved and lost far too
soon.  It did come, only this time it was neither dull nor an ache.
It merely was a sad sense of loss and waste of potential and a faint
one at that.  "Yes, there were a couple," he admitted, mind puzzling
over why he no longer felt so devastated at losing Souris.

Seven closed the panel she had been working in and closed her tool
kit.  "I am finished here.  I have to attend to the next task."

He surfaced from his thinking and followed her to the nearest exit
from the Jefferies tubes.

---

End of Part Five