The BLTS Archive- Self Destruct
by melanie (melanie@skynet.ca)

---

Spoilers for "Disease", "Gravity", and Thirty Days within.

Thanks to Malqa aka Maud for answering my questions re a certain
Klingon custom.  Even if I only used one little piece of the info you
gave me, I do appreciate it.  Qaplqa'

Note: I made up the Klingon custom that comes into play towards the
end. Creative licence.

For Julie, who proved I wasn't the only one who thought KJ was being
horribly unfair when she was denigrating Tom in her comment to Harry
in Sickbay.

Disclaimer:  The usual - theirs, not mine, wish they were, but they're
not, etc., etc., don't sue.

---

"Mr. Paris," Janeway said coolly.

Uncertain what he had done to deserve such a frosty reception after a
couple of months of an almost return to their previous close
relationship, Tom Paris nodded back and stepped aside as the Captain
exited Sickbay then he himself entered.  "Hey, Harry," he called to
his friend, seated on one of the biobeds, with his back to the doors.

Harry Kim did not turn, nor did his slumped posture change.

'Still refusing to take the Doc's cure for love,' Tom thought to
himself. 'Good for him.  Might teach the others something.  Thinking
they can "cure" love like it's a hangnail or the 'flu or something.'

Unconsciously, he touched the barely noticeable bump under his
turtleneck and smiled automatically. Camouflaged as it was by the
opening of his uniform jacket falling across it, no one had noticed it
over the past few weeks that it had been there and he was grateful.
Someone noticing it would have entailed questions he did not wish to
answer just yet.

Hand dropping, he walked over to his best friend and assumed a seat
beside him on the bed.  It was warm, as though someone else had only
just vacated it.  'The Captain?' he wondered, then promptly dismissed
the idea.  Harry still was in deep trouble over this affair with the
Varo woman, Tal.  The Captain would not have been feeling chummy
enough to want to have a sit down discussion with the young man so
responsible for a lot of the return to strained relations with the
xenophobic Varo.

"So," he drawled.  "You okay?"

Harry nodded slowly, clearly lying.  The end of his relationship had
hit him hard and it was showing.  He looked horrible, both in his
dejected expression and his physical appearance.

"Should I be calling you *Crewman* Kim and devising plans for breaking
you out of the Brig?"

So lost in his own pain at the lost of the woman he loved and having
disappointed the Captain whom he had idolized, the younger man did not
see the hidden meaning in Tom's words.  The reference to Tom's own
demotion to ensign and incarceration following the Manoen incident
went unnoticed.  Harry took the words at face value and answered them
in that light.

"No demotion or incarceration, but the official reprimand stays in my
file."

"Oh."  Tom was silent for a moment, staring at his boot tips.  "She
must have given you quite the lecture though."

"She's disappointed in me."  From his tone of voice it was clear he
was in his own little world, reliving the moment.  The man beside him
on the bed had ceased to exist.  "She says I was the last person she
expected to do something like this.  Not good, perfect, not-a-spot-on-
his-record Ensign Kim."

Not knowing what to say, Tom laid a hand on his best friend's
shoulder.  When it became clear Harry was lost in thought, the pilot
slipped off of the biobed and wandered out, his own thoughts going to
misdeeds and punishments and inconsistencies in both.

---

An hour later, Tom had taken refuge in a chaise lounge on the lower
terrace of the Resort on the Holodeck. Placed where it was, against
the wall of the upper terrace and shaded by a large umbrella, he was
out of sight of any one above him and he could see his level was
deserted.  He had the silence he craved at the moment.

Initially, he had gone straight from Sickbay to his quarters and asked
the computer to collect five years' worth of reports on infractions by
Voyager's crew and index them by severity of infraction then again by
severity of punishment.  Once he had it, he had found he could not
tolerate the confines of his quarters any longer and had come here
with his padd of information to bask in the illusion of space and
peace.  That had been ten minutes ago and now the peace was
interrupted.

"Yep, deserted," he heard B'Elanna say and his heart had leapt.
Instinctively, he began to lower his legs from the chair in prelude to
standing to go to her.

These days he found it so hard to keep out of arm's reach of her were
she in the room with him.  He always felt the strongest of desires to
be close to her.  Even if decorum dictated he could not reach out and
touch her or hold her, he still wanted to have that closeness and it
pained him to let her go whenever she insisted she had to return to
Engineering or to her quarters to get ready for
shift.

Unconsciously, he rubbed the bump under his turtleneck for the second
time that day. Soon he would not have to worry about the latter.

Upon hearing a second voice, he halted his rise to go to her.

"Ah, there you are, Doctor," Neelix's voice greeted, loudly enough to
be heard some distance away, indicating the Doctor was not with
B'Elanna and the Talaxian.  "We were beginning to wonder if you were
going to make it to our little conference.  I was worried the Captain
might have found out what we're up to and intercepted you."

"Unless one of you has said something to someone," Tuvok began, "there
is no possibility of her knowing we are here to discuss her and her
recent mood swings.  Though I still do not totally agree with this
meeting."

There was the sound of footsteps coming closer and the EMH's voice
became louder as he approached. "She doesn't have a clue about this. I
saw her in Sickbay a little over an hour ago and she said nothing to
indicate she was aware of this conference.  I'm late because I was
trying to convince Mr. Kim to take his medicine.  Didn't work of
course.  Then there was a minor hoverball injury to attend to."

"You seem somewhat...."  Chakotay trailed off, clearly not knowing how
to describe precisely how the hologram looked.

"Confused?" the Doctor supplied as the sound of five chairs beginning
pulled out from a table grated on Tom's ears.  "Yes, that's how I
feel.  You wouldn't believe what I heard in Sickbay."

"What?"

"How do I put this?  Lieutenant, do you think Mr. Paris is capable of
cheating on you?"

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"As I said, the Captain was in Sickbay earlier, attempting to convince
Mr. Kim to take his medicine - which she could not do either, I might
add.  Anyway, I was busy at the replicator while she talked to him and
something she said made me wonder."

"You were eavesdropping." Tuvok said disapprovingly.

"It hardly is my fault if they weren't whispering or that my auditory
function is so highly attuned I can hear- "

"You were eavesdropping," the Commander concluded.

There was silence and Tom guessed the Doctor had shot the Commander a
glare. A moment later the hologram began speaking again.  "I heard her
say she had been thinking about how she had reacted to Mr. Kim's
relationship with the Varo woman.  He told her she had reacted as any
Captain would have and she agreed, but she wondered if she would have
reacted as she did had it been Mr. Paris who had been in his place.
She said she still would have been angry and disappointed, but she
would not have been surprised."

Neelix was the first to comment.  "The Captain was trying to suggest
she would expect Tom's capable of... Breaking the rules again,
perhaps, but cheating on Lieutenant Torres with some beautiful alien?"

"I don't know," Chakotay admitted.  "Maybe she's right."

There was the sound of someone shifting in their chair then the
Security Chief spoke.  "Do you honestly think Mr. Paris capable of
adultery, Commander?"

"I notice you didn't question whether I thought he could break the
rules again like he did months ago."

"No, I am certain, given the proper incentive, he would do just that.
I was questioning if you, too, thought him capable of cheating on
Lieutenant Torres?"

If Chakotay commented verbally, Tom did not hear it.

"Lieutenant, do you also think him capable of it?"

Another body shifted in a chair then there was a feminine sounding
sigh.  "I don't... I don't know," she admitted softly.  "Maybe.  If
she was beautiful enough."

"Carey to Torres," Joe Carey's voice called over the comm.

"It's ready?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on my way.  Excuse me.  A simulation I have to be present for."

Her departure and the arrival of some crewmembers closed the matter
for the ones on the terrace above, but not for Tom.  His hand slipped
from its place at the base of his neck and fell lifeless to the
cushion beneath him as his heart broke thanks to B'Elanna's lack of
faith in his fidelity.

---
Three weeks later.

"I'm still not sure sending him was the best choice," Chakotay
muttered to Tuvok for the fifth time in the past three minutes.  "He's
been so strange the past couple of weeks.  Moody. Withdrawn from
everyone.  I don't know if sending someone who's clearly going through
some sort of personal problems was the best idea.  I should have sent
someone I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he was
completely focused on the mission."

"He was the logical choice, Commander," the Vulcan answered with
typical calm. "He has the same colouring and height as the inhabitants
of the planet and it took little work by the Doctor to alter his
appearance for him to go unnoticed.  That and his being male means he
can move freely amongst them and not have his presence questioned.  He
is capable of finding the Captain and bringing her back.  Has he not
already proved that by finding and liberating myself and the others?"

Tuvok glanced towards Ops where Harry Kim finally was retaking his
station after his exam by the EMH then a quick shower and change of
uniform in his quarters.  Less than an hour ago, Kim, Neelix, Ayala,
and Tuvok himself had been held in squalid conditions in the local
jail while the Commander negotiated the maze that was diplomatic
channels on this world.  After twenty-six hours with no results,
Chakotay had assented to Tom Paris' suggestion that unofficial
channels might be the way to go to effect the return of their Away
Team.  So, following some minor surgery, Tom Paris had bitten the
proverbial bullet and permitted himself to be sealed inside a photon
casing then fired at the surface.

Before she had known it was to be her mate who was going down there,
B'Elanna had evaluated the conditions on the planet Regarding the
almost inhospitable atmospheric conditions during this, the area in
question's rainy season.  She and her engineers had predicted a photon
torpedo would be small enough to travel unnoticed through the
atmosphere and land on the surface.  Once there, the occupant could
set up a pattern enhancer and they would be able to beam the Team out,
if they could not recover the shuttle intact and pilot it back to
Voyager.  She had discovered too late it was the claustrophobic Tom
who was going and she could not change the already-approved plan.

So he had gone.  And he had found the males from the Away Team and
beamed them up, but not the lone female, Captain Janeway.

Before they had set course for this world, the helpful natives at
their last stop had not thought to warn them about the extreme
patriarchal nature of the world to which they were sending them in
their search for dilithium.  In their defence, they had said it had
been many years since they last had had contact with these people so
they conceivably could have not known what Voyager was going to be
walking into when she had arrived here and contacted the planet's
government.  Only then did they learn there was to be a major with
this First Contact.  As the official who had answered their hail
deigned to inform the Commander, who stood behind the Captain on the
Bridge as she made the usual introductions, females in their society
did not speak and he would not tolerate their insulting his people by
having the Captain speak. Trying to salvage the moment, the Commander,
at the Captain's nod, had taken over the conversation.

The negotiations had gone smoothly enough after that, but the damage
had been done on both sides.  The inhabitants were insulted by the
equality between the sexes on Voyager, though the idea of star charts
for the rest of their sector eased the hurt.  The Captain, even more
so than the other slighted females aboard Voyager, was and continued
to be insulted and the knowledge that she was deemed beneath others
simply because of her gender rankled on her.

Then word of a resistance movement against the status quo became
known.  An incident had been witnessed by one of the engineers who was
part of an Away Team checking the quality of the dilithium available
on the planet.  In his report, he had recorded the information and the
Captain naturally had read it. Read it and immediately wanted to help
the women and some males who were involved in the rebellion in the
making.  Not listening to the objections of the Commander or anyone
else, she had gone to the surface on the next shuttle with Tuvok and
Ayala as her protection and Harry and Neelix, as a cover.  As Murphy's
law would have it, she had been discovered and the entire Away Team
and the Shuttle had been impounded.

Thus the negotiations and their failure.  Thus the need for the secret
operation to rescue them. And thus the wait for him to return with the
shuttle and the Captain.

"Still, you said he knew where she had been taken.  His tricorder had
picked up her life signs."

"Yes, that is what he said.  She had been taken to the prison on the
edge of the capital city and he was going after her after we were
safely on Voyager."

"And you had secured the shuttle before you were captured so they
couldn't get aboard her?"

"Yes, Comman- Shuttle approaching.  It is ours."

"I'm getting a signal," Harry called out.

Chakotay hurried over to Ops.  "Let's hear it."

"Janeway to Voyager," the Captain's voice called.  "Prepare to go to
warp the instant we're docked.  We're about to have company."

And she was correct.  The shuttle barely had docked when ships from
the surface shot out of the atmosphere and straight for Voyager.  As
Baytart scrambled for the controls to get them out of there, two forms
materialized on the Bridge.

One was a bruised and bloodied Janeway, the other a rather pale Tom
Paris dressed in the flowing black garments of the male inhabitants of
the planet and with a minor gash in his forehead and a rather large
bruise forming around it.

"Mr. Paris, get us out of here," the Captain ordered and Pablo
immediately began to push his chair back so the Head of Conn could
take over.

Tom opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Janeway.

"Now, Ensign!"

Slowly, Tom took his station from Baytart.

---

Six hours later, the chase was over.  They were safely out of their
pursuers' space and into there nearest, and hated, neighbours'.
Everyone on the Bridge breathed a collective sigh of relief, except
for Tom Paris. He only called for the Commander to come over to him
and when the older man was at his side, he told him to take the Helm
then disappeared in a shimmer of a transporter beam.

"What the Hell?"  Janeway leapt out of her chair as Chakotay scrambled
to take the seat Tom had vacated so abruptly.  "Tuvok, find out where
he's gone."

"Sickbay," was the Vulcan's answer after a consult of his console.

"Take a security team and bring him back here," she growled.  "I'll be
in my Ready Room."

As Tuvok entered the turbolift, his Vulcan hearing picked up the
Captain's grumbling about shirking of duty in favour of personal
vanity.

Tuvok frowned as the lift doors closed.  It was not like Ensign Paris
to worry about his appearance in a matter like this.  The surgery to
change his looks had been minor just as the wound to his head had
been.

---

"Mr. Paris, what a surprise," the EMH sarcastically greeted the
unexpected arrival.

His assistant said nothing, only began disrobing with the limited use
of his left hand.

"I am to be treated to a floor show?" he smirked.  The smirk died as
Tom reached the last layer of garments and the reason why he was
favouring one arm became apparent.  "What?"  He rushed over and began
scanning him.  "How did this happen?  Where did this -- Well,
obviously on the planet, but why weren't you beamed here immediately.
It was hours ago that you came back. Sit down here."

The doors behind the Doctor opened and Tuvok entered with a security
team.

"Ensign, the Captain sent us to-" Tuvok stopped as the Doctor moved
out the way just enough for him to see what had so shocked the
physician.  Emerging from a hole in the under robe Tom still wore was
a thin shaft of wood, the end of which was broken off as though
someone had snapped it off.  As they watched, the Doctor returned with
a basin of water, a cloth, and pair of scissors then cut away all of
the garment that had not been stuck to Tom's chest when the blood from
the wound had dried.

He almost cut the thin black cord that hung around Tom's neck and the
tiny soft, red leather pouch hanging from it.  Tom rescued it in time
and held it to one side while the Doctor worked.  He refused to remove
it.

"I want to know why this man was not sent down here sooner," the
Doctor barked as he slowly bathed the area to loosen the cloth so he
could remove it without ripping chest hair and skin away with it.

"There was a pursuit by the planet's forces," Tuvok responded slowly.
"And we did not know he was injured."

"Well obviously he was."  He glared at the silent patient.  "And you,
even if you had not had advanced medical training you would have know
to come here immediately for treatment. This did not puncture your
lung but it easily could have given time.  The longer you kept using
this arm, the farther this whatever it is was working its way in.  You
know that!  Any idiot knows that!  And this head injury of yours, it
could easily have developed into something more serious.  You have a
minor concussion.  Serious side effects could develop given time."

As the Doctor continued to berate him for his stupidity, Tom Paris
remained strangely detached and quiet. Since there was no way he could
fulfil his mission, Tuvok dismissed his staff while he remained,
watching the Doctor at his task.

---

From her Captain's chair, Janeway regarded at the newly-healed Tom
Paris who now stood before her, fully dressed in his own uniform once
again.  Only minutes earlier the Doctor had painstakingly removed the
remains of what Tuvok recognized as a piece of one of the thin batons
the jail guards carried and used on unruly inmates.  With its removal,
it became easier for him to kill the infection that was developing and
heal the nick on Tom's lung.  Now the self-proclaimed medical genius
stood behind and to one side of his former patient.  The EMH had not
been pleased to have Tom out of Sickbay so soon given he still was
recovering from his injuries, but the Captain had insisted he and
Tuvok bring Ensign Paris to the Bridge immediately so they had
followed orders and done so.  Now they were almost wishing they had
not.

"What were you playing at, Ensign?" the angry Captain demanded to
know.  "Why the Hell didn't you speak up and tell us you were injured?
You put the entire crew at risk by not saying anything.  The Doctor
says you barely could use your arm by the time you got here.

What if the ships had stuck with us longer? What if you'd totally lost
the use of that arm and we were in battle at the time?  We would have
all been in jeopardy."

Fury evident in her eyes, she waited for his response.  The one she
got was unexpected.  It was as though something in Tom Paris suddenly
gave way and released him.  When it did, he reached up to his collar
and removed the pip that was there.  He lifted one of her hands, laid
the small metal circle on her palm then he added his combadge to it.
Releasing her, he stepped back and removed his uniform jacket and let
it drop to the floor at her feet.

"Ensign-"

He shook his head.  "*Mr.* Paris," he stressed, "mister.  Not that I
ever expect you or anyone else will use it.  That term usually
signifies a modicum of respect for the individual being addressed and
that clearly is not the case here."

"What are you trying to say?" Chakotay asked, leaping to the Captain's
defence.

Tom's eyes never left the Captain's.  "I'm not *trying* to say
anything, Commander.  I'm saying it.  Neither the Captain nor anyone
else here has had any respect for me.  Never have really, only it's
been the past three weeks that I've really come to understand that."

"Respect is earned," Janeway told him in a low voice, "not demanded."

"Unless you're a Captain," he slung back.  "But yet after everything I
have done for this ship, for her crew, for you, I still have not
earned any respect, have I?  I thought I had at one point, thought
everyone had moved beyond my past, seen how much I'd changed, how much
I'd finally grown up.  But I was wrong, wasn't I?  I'm still an ex-con
who can't be trusted as far as you could throw him."

"How dare you speak to the Captain like this?  It's insubordination."
Again it was Chakotay trying to deflect him from the Captain.

Tom would not be deflected, though he did answer the question.

"I dare because I finally woke up, Commander, and frankly I don't care
anymore.  All my life I've had it drilled into me that if you try hard
and do your best, then you'll be considered an asset and be valued
properly, only I've figured out it'll never work that way where I'm
concerned.  There's no use in trying so hard because even if I were
perfect, even if I died to save your collective hides, someone still
would bring up my past at my memorial service."

He shook his head.  "You know, I'm surprised it took me so long to
wake up too.  All the signs were everywhere around me and I just
didn't see them. You know what it took to wake me up?  It took Harry
of all people thinking with his privates instead of his head before I
woke up.  You see, I went to see him when he was in Sickbay refusing
to take that cure the Doctor had cooked up to get him over Tal.	I was
surprised when he told me he wasn't being punished any worse than an
official letter of reprimand in his record. It didn't make sense to
me.  He disobeyed orders, repeatedly. Disregarded Starfleet and Varo
protocols, jeopardizing negotiations with the Varo for an exchange of
technological information.

"Put himself in physical danger by having sex with someone who hadn't
been properly vetted by the Doctor. All that and all he gets is a slap
on the wrist and an 'I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Kim.  I expected
better from you.'

"At first I couldn't understand how he had got off so lightly.  Then I
did some checking and began to understand."

Janeway's grey eyes narrowed.  "Understand what?"

"Why there was such a disparity in punishment for him, or anyone else
for that matter, breaking the rules and when I did.  Computer,
transfer file Paris Delta Infractions to the Captain's database.  A
listing of all of the infractions made by the crew over the past five
years," he explained to her. "The ones that have made it into the
official records anyway.  I found it very interesting reading.  It
seems everyone on board falls into one of three categories for
punishments on this ship.  One for just me and the late Lon Suder, but
his being lumped in with me was only because he murdered a member of
the crew.  Then there's another category for everyone else, except one
person.  That person falls into the third category.  Now that category
was a hard one to establish, I couldn't find the *official*
punishments for that person because there weren't any, not even
censures placed in the official record.  Everything - whether the
outcome was a boon to the ship or a disaster - all was conveniently
explained away, but they were infractions just the same."

He leaned toward her a little.	"It's easy to see why when the only
person in that category also just happens to be the same person who
doles out the punishments.  That's you of course, in case you're
wondering.  I haven't had the chance to add this debacle to the list,
but still."  Straightening, he shrugged. "You seem to have the
privilege of breaking every and any rules, regulations, protocols you
like and you never get into trouble for it. Granted out here there are
no Brass to come down on you, but that's irrelevant. What is relevant
is you expect us to follow rules that you yourself, our alleged role
model, don't always follow yourself but when we do the same you come
down on us.  Unfortunately for me, I seem to get it a lot harder than
others."

She glared even harder at this.  "You're way out of line."

"I know, and I don't think I've felt this good in a long time.  Maybe
I should get nearly killed or have my head slammed into a wall more
often.  It seems to bring the most amazing clarity to things.  Rather
freeing actually, not giving a damn about propriety and command
structure and such."

"When you broke the rules," she bit out, returning to the subject,
"you broke the Prime Directive by trying to interfere with the
evolution of a society and in doing so you endangered this ship and
her crew when the Moneans threatened to retaliate against us."

He faked a thoughtful look.  "Gee, why does that sound so familiar."
Smiling, he snapped his fingers.  "Oh, I know, it's because someone
just did the exact same thing just yesterday. Only this time someone
actually got hurt.  And I'm fine now, by the way, thank you for
asking.  And you're welcome.  Nearly going crazy from being trapped in
that photon casing, then saving their lives-" He indicated Tuvok and
Harry. "-And Neelix and Ayala's and yours while nearly losing my own
in the process was no big deal.  As usual."

She clearly did not like being reminded of the fact she owed her life
to him, yet again, for her jaw clenched and her back stiffened.

"And instead of asking for some sort of repayment or commendation for
all that, particularly because I know it'd never happen anyway because
of the category I fall into, I'm going to give *you* something
instead."  He unzipped his turtleneck just enough to be able to remove
the pouch from around his neck then tossed the tiny bag to her.
"Something to remind you that you're not always right."

"What is it?" she asked tersely, staring down at necklace that had
spilled out of the pouch and into her lap when she had loosened the
drawstring closure.

He said a Klingon word she did not know the meaning of and there was a
muffled gasp from the Engineering station.

Janeway picked it up and held it by the chain's clasp.  "A what?"

"Ask Lieutenant Torres.  I'm sure she can tell you what it was, even
if she won't believe that's what it was intended to be.  And maybe
when she does explain you'll both see how unfair and plain impossible
your saying to Harry that you wouldn't have been surprised had I been
the one fooling around with some alien really was."

She frowned in confusion, not understanding that to which he referred.

"I'm assuming that all this insubordination will earn me time in the
Brig and I'm rather tired anyway, so I'll just go now so I can get
some sleep."  Tom headed for he stairs, blatantly ignoring B'Elanna's
step towards him as he passed her station.  "Care to escort me,
Commander?" he asked Tuvok. "Or can I be trusted enough to at least
make my way to the Brig without an escort?"

Not waiting for a comment, he entered the lift and left the Bridge
behind.

Once he was gone, the Captain met B'Elanna's eyes, a question in them.

"It's a betrothal necklace," the half-Klingon answered quietly, slowly
moving forward to take it in her trembling hand.  The necklace was
exquisite by anyone's opinion.  The chain was a loop of intertwined
strands of silver and rose-hued gold.  Suspended from the vaguely
Celtic knot in the centre was a large, table cut gem of human blood
red with a Klingon symbol etched into its face. "Bangoy," she
murmured.

"What?"

B'Elanna looked up, a tear slipping down her cheek.  "Beloved.  It
means 'beloved'."

"Why this?" Chakotay asked, picking up thepouch from where it had
fallen to the deck.

"Old Klingon custom of keeping it close to one's heart until the
time's right to give it to one's future mate."

"That would explain why he wouldn't remove it while I was treating
him," the Doctor sighed.  "I figured it was just another of Mr. Paris'
annoying quirks."

Finally recovering from seeing his best friend self-destruct all over
the Captain, Harry joined the conversation.  "Captain, what'd he mean
you'd see how 'unfair and plain impossible' it was for him to have
done what I did?"

"I don't know," Janeway said, shrugging.

"What he meant, Ensign," Tuvok explained, "was if he was emotionally
prepared to propose marriage to Lieutenant Torres, the odds of him
having an affair with anyone else were zero.  Mr. Paris is too much in
love with her to even be tempted by another.  He said as much to me
one day when he, the Doctor and myself were in that... sinkhole.  It
explained why he was uninterested in Noss even though he was resigned
to spending the remainder of his life on that world and was
encouraging me to consider a life with her."

There was total silence on the Bridge for a long while as everyone
reflected on what had happened.

It was B'Elanna who finally broke the silence.  Tom's insubordination
had become infectious and his mate had caught it.  "Is it true?" she
asked the Captain.  "Do you really think of him differently than the
others? Punish him differently because of his past?"

"B'Elanna-"

"You don't have to answer that.  We all know the answer.  Every word
of what he said was true, even if you won't admit it to us or
yourself.  There *are* different sets of rules on this ship depending
on who you are. Tom steps out of line and he gets demoted and thrown
into the Brig and when he's out it's you constantly watching him like
a hawk, waiting for him to slip up again so you can yell at him some
more.	All the while, he has to watch the rest of us going around
here, with our ranks intact and never having spent any time in the
Brig even though we've all stepped out of line so many times
ourselves. And what about you? You've got to be the worst part of all
this.  He has to watch you conveniently forget the Prime Directive or
any other of the rules and regs whenever they don't agree with
whatever you want to do, yet he gets slapped down when he does it.  If
you applied the same rules to yourself as you do him whenever he does
something wrong, you'd be a crewwoman by now and still in the Brig."

"Are you quite finished, Lieutenant?"

"Just one more thing, *Captain*, as for why he didn't tell you he was
hurt, I think he tried to.  When you ordered him to take the Helm from
Baytart, I saw him open his mouth to say something only you cut him
off and demanded he get to his station."  She shook her head.  "You
have zero respect for him and he knows it, but he still follows your
orders as best he can - to the risk of his own health - and risks his
life to save yours.  Strange isn't it?"

Shaking her head, she mounted the stairs to the turbolift, necklace
safely in hand.  Her gait was that of a woman with a purpose and those
who watched her go would have laid all their replicator rations on her
destination being the Brig - had anyone been willing to bet against
them.

In the command chair, Kathryn Janeway was sitting, stoically.  To her
credit, she was thinking about what had been said and wondering if
their criticisms were justified.  She looked at the console between
her and Chakotay's seats and hesitated to call up the file Tom had
transferred to her database.  She did not want to see clear evidence
supporting his claims of her unfair treatment of him.  It would be
much easier for her to sleep at night if she could tell herself he was
wrong and she was right. Steeling herself, she reached out and called
up the file.

---

The End