The BLTS Archive - To Tell The Truth
#2: Parole
by melanie (melanie@skynet.ca)

---

Comments, admiring or outraged, maybe sent to me at: melanie@skynet.ca

Note 1: Read Part One: "Spirit Guide" (which has even more
life-alteringly important notes for you to read) first or this won't
make much sense at times.  Well, it probably won't anyway, but I
digress.

Note 2: If you haven't read Jeri Taylor's book "Mosaic", you might
want to do so since it is the origin of one of the characters and a
situation to which I have referred.  Plus it is a pretty good read. :)

Disclaimer: The usual - theirs not mine, wish they were, but they're
not, etc., etc., don't sue.

---

Captain Kathryn Janeway looked at each of their faces in turn. Even if
she had not told each one to keep their appointment with her a secret
from everyone, they had known this meeting was out of the ordinary
merely by the choice of venue - her quarters. It was rare for her to
meet here with anyone other than Chakotay, who now lounged in his
favourite arm chair beside the couch, or Tuvok, who stood almost at
attention near her desk, Seven in identical position at his side.  On
occasion, the Doctor, who perched on an arm of the couch, also was
admitted to her inner sanctum to administer therapeutic massages to
the overworked Captain, though only on occasion.  The other two
guests, however, rarely ever had reason to grace the couch on which
they sat side by side.  Any contact with Harry or B'Elanna typically
was at their duty stations or in the Resort, not here.

The door chime interrupted the tense silence which had descended over
the group following her refusal to begin until everyone had arrived.
Kathryn triggered the door and Neelix smiled at her, a large plate of
sandwiches in his hand.

"I brought some refreshments, Captain.  My latest creations. Thought
you could be the first to try them out while we had our meeting." He
stepped into the quarters and stopped, staring at the others.  "Oh.  I
must have misunderstood, Captain. I thought it was to be just us."  He
moved to set the plate on the small table beside the door.  "I'll have
to get more."

"No need, Neelix," the Captain insisted, herding him towards the
couch, "and you were not mistaken.  I deliberately gave each of you
the impression it was to be a secret, one on one meeting.  I apologize
for that, but I needed to be certain none of you discussed this
meeting amongst yourselves in case someone overheard.  We all know how
gossip does spread."

Taking the plate with him, the Talaxian sat down between the Doctor
and Harry on the couch.  "It is a small ship, Captain." he agreed,
passing the plate along.

Harry's good manners overrode potential danger to his stomach and he
took half a sandwich then passed the plate to B'Elanna beside him.
"Where's Tom?" he whispered to her.

"Bridge." she whispered back, refusing the food and handing it on to
the Commander.

"I had Commander Chakotay intentionally arrange the duty shifts that
way," the Captain announced, proving how good her hearing was,
"because it is Tom that I want to talk about to all of you."

Kathryn took the plate from her first officer and placed a sandwich
half next to his on the coffee table.  As was to be expected, Seven,
Tuvok, and the EMH refused the food and she returned the half-filled
plate to the table once more.

"As we're all well aware," she began, "Mr. Paris has been acting
strangely for the past few weeks.  I know everyone is as concerned
about him as I am and want to get to the bottom of his problem.  I'm
sure all of you have attempted to talk to him about it as I have.
Since the problem persists, my guess is none of you have had any
better luck with getting him to open up than I have.  What I think we
need to do now is co-ordinate our information and figure this out on
our own since he doesn't want to help us and himself."

Despite being the one who had born the majority of the brunt of his
recent mood, B'Elanna still leapt to her mate's defence. "Captain, I
really don't think so."

She quirked an eyebrow.  "You don't think Tom needs our help?"

"No, it's not that.  It's.... Despite what he pretends, about not
caring if people are talking about him behind his back, it does hurt
him. The fact we are here doing exactly that would upset him if he
knew."

"B'Elanna," Kathryn said softly and smiling reassuringly, "Tom's
already hurting from something yet won't tell us what. You know that
better than anyone."  She paused.  "Or am I wrong? Has he opened up to
you about what's going on?"

The half-Klingon could not meet her eyes.  "Not exactly."

"I didn't think so."  She looked at the others.  "Has he confided in
any of you?"

Everyone responded in the negative.

"Well, I think we all agree we cannot permit it to continue. Perhaps
if we can pool our observations of anything he has said or done then
we might at least know where we stand."

"You want us to break his confidences in us."  B'Elanna flung herself
off of the couch.  "Do you know how hard it has been for him to learn
to trust us?  To open up to us?  If he ever found out we betrayed
him....  No.  No, I can't, *won't* do it. He'll talk when he is
ready."

As she stomped away from the couch and towards the windows, Kathryn
could see Harry and Neelix wavering towards agreeing with B'Elanna.

Chakotay came to her rescue as usual.  "We may not be able to wait
that long.  He is ducking his shifts in Sickbay, B'Elanna.  If there
is an emergency, we need him there, ready to deal with it, especially
if the Doctor's off line.  If he is unprepared, it could be a disaster
for the crew."

"He is not exaggerating, Lieutenant." the EMH concurred. "At this
point Mr. Paris does have the skills to take care of routine
illnesses, triage, and some minor surgeries but if I were off line for
any length of time, it would fall to him to become the Chief Medical
Officer and deal with *all* medical emergencies.  He is not prepared
for that and never will be if he continues to avoid his studies."

"But that's over." she insisted.  "He was feeling restless and with
this bit of excitement with Steth and finally getting sometime
planetside after a couple of months in space, he's got to be feeling
better now."

The Captain looked at her inquiringly.  "Steth has been gone for
seventeen days and we've been here five.  Have you noticed an
appreciable change in him?  I haven't.  He's still ducking Sickbay and
doesn't seem to be his usual cheerful self."

"Okay, maybe he's not *totally* back to normal yet," she conceded,
"but he is getting there.  He's talking to me again."

"But you said you haven't discussed whatever is troubling him."
Chakotay reminded her.

"Okay, not about whatever was wrong with him about Sickbay or
whatever, but we are talking about *us* again.  It's a start."

Neelix smiled to himself.  "And the crew thanks you."

B'Elanna frowned at him and the morale officer/cook knew he
inadvertently had expressed the thought aloud.

"Umm, you see, after your last, uh, fight, in the Mess Hall, some of
the crew were a little leery about coming to eat there if there was a
possibility the two of you were going to..." Neelix swallowed.  "Come
to blows."

"Come to blows?" B'Elanna ground out.  "What business is it of theirs
if Tom and I have an argument?"

"Please, you two," the Captain interrupted, "can we get back to the
matter at hand?"

The two closed their mouths, one gratefully, one reluctantly.

"Now, if we can figure out when this began, maybe then we can figure
out what the problem is and resolve it.  Can anyone pinpoint precisely
when Tom first started acting out of character?"

Everyone thought back for a moment.

"The first scheduled shift in Sickbay that he missed was two days
after the Hirogen relay station was destroyed." the Doctor answered.
"At the time he gave a perfectly reasonable excuse, one of this pilots
was cross-training with Engineering and he was covering her shift at
the Conn."

"He and I talked about that."  Chakotay informed him.  "He told me he
would make up the time with you later."

"Yes, he told me the same when we rearranged the duty shifts to cover
his shifts in Sickbay."

"If I remember correctly there wasn't any problem then with finding
crew to cover." Janeway mused.

"No," the EMH admitted, " some of the crew needed to re-certify their
emergency medical training so they came in to cover a shift each and
we covered the personnel shortage that way."

"So what happened once the cross-training was over?"

"He avoided it by saying he was swamped with a navigational sensors
problem which could not be cleared up."

"The upgrading we did." Harry explained.  "Every time we though we had
it fixed it would go down again."

Remembering the muffled cursing in some unfamiliar language from the
Conn, Kathryn nodded.

"Then the Hirogen took over Voyager-" the EMH grimaced- "and I saw all
too much of Mr. Paris and quite a few of the crew, albeit in an
unconscious state."

"And after the Hirogen left?"

"He did spend some time with me, treating the wounded, Captain, but
once everything was under control medically he was reassigned to
assist with repairs."

The Commander nodded.  "He volunteered to sort out the Holodeck files.
Exorcise all of the Hirogen programmes and put the rest back to
rights."

"And after that I haven't seen him in Sickbay since, with the
exception of the incident with Steth.  Any time I have called him on
his avoidance he says he forgot, was too busy with something else or
gives me the excuse that we haven't treated anything worse than an
ingrown hangnail. That may be true, but it is beside the point.  I
still need him in Sickbay."

The Captain rubbed the back of her neck in thought.  "What about this
new attitude of his, this restlessness, when did it start?"

"He's been acting a little out of the ordinary for a while." Harry
admitted.  "He's been spending a lot of time alone on the Holodeck or
in his quarters.  At first I thought he was with B'Elanna until I saw
her alone in Sandrine's one night and she remarked on how she'd
assumed Tom had broken their date to be with me.  He did do that few
times."

All eyes shifted to B'Elanna who remained silent, gaze on the stars
they passed.

"He hasn't been in the Resort or Sandrine's in weeks." Neelix added to
the silence.  "I thought he was busy elsewhere. I mentioned it to him
once or twice.  He'd mutter something about being too busy and excused
himself."

"And when did this begin?"

Harry and Neelix looked at one another.

"I don't know exactly, Captain," the Talaxian replied, "after the
Hirogen occupation certainly."

"Yeah, about then, I-" Harry stopped for a moment.  "Come to think of
it, he began acting strangely long before then.  I mean it's become
increasingly more noticeable since then, but I think it began before
it." His frown lifted.  "It started right around the time the messages
from the Alpha Quadrant started coming in.  He acted like it didn't
matter, that it was all no big deal.  Even after the relay station
exploded and some of the letters were lost, including his father's, he
still didn't seem to care."

---

"Tom?"  Harry bustled in, grinning from ear to ear.  "Tom, you've got
to read this."

Picking up his shirt, the half-dressed pilot glanced at the padd in
the ensign's hand.  "What is it?"

Harry gave him and exasperated look.  "My letter from home."

Tom slipped on the shirt, leaving it hanging open as he skirted Harry
and headed for the desk.  "You want me to read your parents' letter?"

Watching Tom tap in a couple of commands on the desktop computer,
Harry frowned.  "Yeah.  You okay?"

The pilot straightened and turned.  "Just have a lot to do." He took
the padd and moved over to sit on the couch.  "Bit behind in my Conn
reports and assignments for the Doc."

"Oh." Harry said in an offhand way, parking himself on the cushion to
his immediate right.  "I thought maybe you were upset by whatever was
in the letter from your father."

Tom sent a startled glance towards him.  "You honestly don't know do
you?"

"Know what?"

"It didn't make it through in time."  His eyes found to the padd
again.

"Tom, I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  You okay?"

"Of course.  Let's see what your folks have got to say."

Harry put a hand over Tom's holding the letter.  "Tom...."

With his free hand, Tom mussed Harry's hair.  "Hey, it's  no problem.
Probably just more of the same.  I've heard it all  before. Don't
really need to hear it again.  It's okay.  Really."

The Ensign was unconvinced yet let the matter drop for the time being.
His hand released Tom's.

"Let's see what we have here.  'Dear Son....'"

As his best friend read aloud the letter he already had read and
reread countless times, Harry settled back into the couch cushions.
He let Tom's gentle voice reading the precious words from home wash
over him as he relaxed.  The past few days had been so hard on Harry.
First there had been the waiting for the message he knew would come
from his doting parents and the worry they might have died never
knowing he still lived, then, if they still lived, that their message
would be lost....

Like Tom's father's.  He knew Tom was feigning this nonchalance about
its loss.  Past experience predicted Tom would resist all attempts to
get him to share his disappointment so Harry let go of the issue.
Instead he comforted Tom the only way he knew he would accept it,
comfort without words.  Shifting only slightly, he laid his head on
his best friend's shoulder.  Tom automatically transferred the padd to
his left hand and reached up to pat Harry's cheek.  Harry knew Tom
would interpret things as though it was Harry needing consolation, not
the other way around, but he didn't mind.  Satisfying Tom's need to
feel needed gave more consolation to the pilot than any mere words
regarding Tom's importance as a person ever could achieve.  As Tom
read and stroked Harry's hair the way he did Naomi Wildman's when she
was scared or upset, Harry closed his eyes and relaxed.

---

Harry shook his head.  "He was so cool about it all, as if he couldn't
care less about it all.  Part of me actually wonders if he didn't
care, given his past and his family and all."

"He did care." B'Elanna corrected softly from behind him. Arms folded
across her chest, she had not moved from her place, staring out at the
stars.  "You were right, he was covering up his anxiety about it.  Tom
was scared about what his father was going to say."

"Do you think that might be the root cause of all this?" Chakotay
asked.

"I don't know."

"B'Elanna," Kathryn gently began, "you called Tom to Astrometrics when
the letter from the Admiral began to come in."

"Yes."

"What was Tom like when he heard it was from his father? I know when
he left and returned he looked like a man on his way to his
execution."

The Chief Engineer sighed and gave in.  The Captain's request for them
to break Tom's confidences in them was for his own good, she
rationalized.  "He was sarcastic.  He made jokes about how it probably
was from the parole board about revoking his parole.  He was anxious
to return to the Bridge as soon as possible.  He was scared about the
contents of the letter.  Said what he had here on Voyager was the best
thing that ever had happened to him and he was worried the Admiral's
message would be bad."

"And when it was lost?"

"I told him to assume the best and I think he honestly tried to, for a
while anyway."  She leaned her temple against the bulkhead beside the
window, uncertainty evident in her profile. "By later that night it
was obvious he was doubting it again.  He said a bit to me about it
then but not all that much really."

Harry started.  "I didn't know you'd been there."

"I arrived shortly after you fell asleep on his couch."

---

Exhausted, B'Elanna ran a hand through her hair as she rushed down the
corridor.  The news of end of the Maquis and the deaths of most of her
friends then hours spent repairing the damage caused by the relay
station's - plus very nearly Voyager's as well - destruction had take
its toll on her.  All she wanted right now was to be held in the
strong arms of a certain pilot and she could not find him.

After a quick shower in her quarters, she automatically had headed to
the Holodeck where Neelix's party was in full swing.  When she entered
the Resort, it very quickly became obvious Tom Paris was absent.  A
clear indicator of this was the fact so many were so openly discussing
his, in their opinion, odd reaction to the letter from Admiral Paris
and its subsequent loss.  Had the pilot been in attendance they would
have avoided the topic as strenuously as he would.  Questioning of
Neelix and the Captain only confirmed the theory.

This wasn't like Tom, she thought tiredly.  We need each other right
now and the Computer says he's hiding in his quarters.

That's not fair, she argued with herself.  Tom probably had known she
would be held up in Engineering so was waiting for her to notify him
she finally was free.  She knew by now he would be having doubts about
himself and whether the Admiral actually *had* said he loved him and
was proud of him or not.  Had it not been for the repairs they'd had
to do, she would have been with him.

You should have been with him anyway, she chastised, stopping in front
of his door.  You should have left Carey to handle it all and been
with Tom where you wanted and needed to be.

The reality of exactly how important this man had become to her and
she to him hit her, and not for the first time either. She smiled for
the first time since she had heard Chakotay's news about the Maquis
and reached for the door chime.

"Come."

"Tom, I-"

B'Elanna stopped short just inside of the doorway.  Her smile turned
to a giggle at the sight of Harry snuggled up next to Tom, arm draped
across his waist, contentedly sleeping with his head on Tom's
shoulder, while Tom read a padd.

"Get me a pillow, will you?" Tom whispered.

She hurried over to Tom's bed for one of the multitude which
invariably occupied the bed whenever he was not.  Picking up one plus
the throw from across the foot of the bed, she returned to the living
area. Between the two of them, they slowly moved Harry into a
reclining position on the couch and covered him.

Rubbing feeling back into his sleeping arm and shoulder, Tom smiled
apologetically at her.  "I'm sorry I didn't make it to the Resort,
but...."

"It's okay.  I understand."  She took up rubbing his shoulder, though
her ministrations were more a caress than a rub. "I was late myself.
Engineering."

He nodded.  No more explanation than that was necessary. That was a
good thing as he clearly was finding himself rapidly losing the
capacity to speak as her hands trailed down from his shoulder and
buried themselves in the golden chest hair visible through his
unfastened and untucked shirt. His own hands lifted to her waist and
pulled her to him.

"What say we forget the party and go to my quarters." she growled at
him in a low voice.

Tom glanced at Harry sound asleep less than a metre behind them.
Reluctantly, he drew back.  "As much as I'd like that, I don't want to
leave Harry."

"Harry's just going to sleep." she insisted, trying to pull him back
to her.  "He doesn't need you to watch him do that."

"I'm worried about him.  He seemed pretty homesick earlier.  I think I
should be here in case he wakes."  He led her to the armchair and
assumed their favourite position with her seated in his lap. "Okay?"

"Mmm."  She laid her forehead against his neck and resumed playing
with the chest hair that so fascinated her.  She was quiet for many
minutes.  Finally, he squeezed the hip under his hand.

"What are you thinking?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked what you're thinking."

She flattened her hand over his heart.  "About the messages from the
Alpha Quadrant.  About the Maquis and all my friends."  His arms
tightened around her.  "About how the coded message from Starfleet
might be a plan for getting Voyager home." She paused. "And about what
will happen to us if they do.  When I was in the Maquis, I always knew
I could end up in prison or worse if I were caught, but it always was
sort of unreal to me, you know.  Like the classes at the Academy when
they'd outline all the worst case scenarios and expect the class to
hypothesize about what they'd do if it happened.  It was unreal,
something which you had to plan for but probably wouldn't ever
happen."

"And now you're thinking that if Starfleet can get Voyager back to the
Alpha Quadrant you and the other Maquis will be put in prison and you
don't know if you can handle it."

"It's not that I don't think I can handle it, I mean it would be a
Starfleet facility, not a Cardassian one, and given my service here it
probably would be minimum security.  It's not like they throw you into
some rodent and insect infested hole and forget about you except to
drag you out to torture you like the Cardassians do.  It wouldn't be
that bad.  I mean, you can't go wherever you want, you have to stay
put and wear a monitoring anklet, but it isn't all that bad... is it?"

Tom did not answer for a moment.  He shut his eyes and rested his
cheek on her hair.  Even though he had let her in farther than anyone
else ever had been permitted in his entire life, he had resisted
talking about his time in the Rehab Colony in New Zealand. That was
until now that it had become obvious she needed to here the truth
about life inside of a Federation prison.

"For you it probably would be like you think.  Not too bad. There'd be
other Maquis there so you'd have them to be with."

"Huh?"

"Everyone tends to stick with their own kind.  All the Starfleet, all
the Maquis, and so on.  They tend to stay in the groups they were in
on the outside.  The Maquis would look after you while you were
there."

"They didn't do that for you, did they?  The Starfleet or the
Maquis... or the others."

"Of course not.  I was a traitor to Starfleet AND the Maquis as well
as a triple murderer who'd gotten off scott-free from what had
happened on Caldik Prime.  Plus I was a Paris, a shame to the family,
but a Paris just the same."  He kissed her hair.  "No, I was on my own
there."

"Caldik Prime was an accident, Tom." she soothed, stroking his chest
in a comforting, not sexual way.

He continued as though he had not heard her.  "But they can't protect
you all the time.  You'll still have to watch out for some of the
others.  They... they can be trouble."  He raised his head and shook
it, opening his eyes.  "But none of that matters.  If there is a war,
they're going to need everyone they can get with Starfleet or combat
experience to be on their side. If they're smart, they'll snap all of
you up in a second and wave all threat of prison as incentive to keep
you in Starfleet."

She raised her head to look in his troubled blue eyes. "Tom, you said
'snap all of you up', not 'all of us'."  He tried to look away.  She
refused to permit it and pulled his face back to hers. "You don't
think Starfleet will take you back too, do you?"

He wrapped her tighter in his arms and pulled her head back to the
crook of his neck.  "The odds are against my ever serving in Starfleet
again." he told her in a monotone.

"You don't think they'd actually make you return to New Zealand to
serve out the rest of your sentence, do you?  Wouldn't it be up yet?"

"No, I still have three more years on my sentence before I'd be free."

"I thought the deal you made with the Captain was that after you lead
them to the Maquis was you would be cut loose."

"I bargained in bad faith, B'Elanna, and the Captain knows it."

"I don't understand."

"I knew the little information I had about the Maquis was out of date.
The first thing everyone would have done after I was caught was pick
up stakes and clear out in case I talked. They wouldn't have run the
risk of remaining where they were and having Starfleet waltz in and
capture them all because I'd told them where to find them.  As far as
they were concerned I would tell Starfleet everything because the only
one I was looking out for yours truly and it might spare me a heavy
prison sentence. It was only by bizarre coincidence that I actually
was leading Voyager in the right direction, that were it not for the
Caretaker Voyager would have stumbled across Chakotay's ship."

"But they don't know that."

"The Captain does.  I told her a long time ago.  I don't know if she
made an official note of it in her log or not but she knows."

"Why?"

"Why did I tell her or why did I strike a bargain with them when I
knew I couldn't do what they thought I could?"

"Both."

"I told her because she has been damned good to me and I thought she
deserved the truth.  As to why I lied to them... I wanted out of
prison and it was a way out."

"Prison really was that bad for you, wasn't it."

"I've been through worse."

"But surely you were eligible for parole at some point,  weren't you?
You might have been released soon, with good  behaviour?"

"Supposedly, I would have been eligible last month."

"Supposedly?"

"I always knew I'd be serving the maximum. They were making an example
of me, they had to.  The authorities couldn't be lenient on me without
everyone saying it was because of my family connections."  He shook
his head.  "But none of that matters now.  I got out anyway."

"It does matter or you wouldn't have said anything about it." She
threaded her fingers through the hair at his nape.  "If they hadn't
let you go, we wouldn't have met."

"Probably not, no."

She tilted her head up and gave him a lingering kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked when she snuggled back into his neck.

"Because I almost missed out on us.  Because I almost lost you yet
again only three weeks ago and it's finally hitting me how much I
would have lost if you hadn't come back from the Spirit World or
wherever you were."

"You honestly think it'd be that easy to get rid of me?" He laid a
kiss on her ridges.  "I'm like a stray dog, show me a little affection
and I'm yours for life."

She half smiled.  Though he was joking, the truth in the statement was
glaring.  Tom Paris was a stray dog.  Anyone who had shown him a
little affection or friendship or kindness *did* have him and his
loyalty, possibly for life.

Even in a strange way, a father who's message might have been more
recriminations for past failings, she thought, secretly thanking the
Fates for the missing body of the letter.  It truly was better he had
to guess at the contents and choose to think the best rather than know
the contents and be crushed were it more of the usual.

The joke he had made before they knew the identity of the sender about
the letter possibly being from the rehab colony telling him he had
broken the conditions of his parole.  It was so unfair that he felt he
had no right to have any expectations for a future when they returned
to the Alpha Quadrant.  Even the Maquis could hope for some sort of a
good future if his prediction about Starfleet needing their experience
were correct.

Her fingers threading through the hair at his nape, she closed her
eyes and joined Harry in sleep.

---

"I didn't make a note of it." Kathryn assured her once B'Elanna had
lapsed into silence after telling an abridged version of their talk.
"At the time I made the offer to him in the Rehab Colony, I knew it
was a long shot and so did Starfleet. The Maquis were too smart and
too well organized to take such a risk as staying where they were.
Tom was our only option for finding Tuvok so we took it."

"I agree with Tom," Chakotay chimed in, "Starfleet does need everyone
they can get their hands on.  At least for the duration of the war we
would safe with them.  Afterwards, I'm not so sure."

"I can't speak for Starfleet, but I hope all of the Maquis know I will
do everything in my power to help them when we get home."

"We know that, Captain." he smiled.

Briefly, she smiled back then turned to Seven.  "What about you,
Seven?  You have spent some time lately working with Tom on a couple
of projects.  How has he been with you?"

"Professional, Captain." the former Borg replied succinctly. "He
performed his tasks adequately and within time constraints."  Her head
cocked to one side.  "Perhaps that in itself is confirmation of
abnormal behaviour."

"How so?"

"Since my first encounter with him after becoming a member of this
crew, Lt. Paris invariably has been solicitous and jovial."  She said
the last word like it was a grievous sin. "However, my interactions
with him over the past seven weeks have not been so.  He has been
detached and strictly professional.  He has not made any attempts to
engage me in idle conversation."

"Seven weeks ago appears to be the focal point, Captain." Tuvok
announced.  "It was at that time that the relay station was
destroyed."

"So the consensus is that right after that Tom began to act oddly?"
Chakotay received nods of agreement.  "If he had received a letter
from home and it was bad, then this would have made sense, but not
receiving a letter?  I don't get it."

"Perhaps what he said to Lt. Torres is the answer. Perhaps Mr. Paris's
problem stems from an inability to see a future for himself after
Voyager.  With Starfleet now knowing of our continued existence, we
can assume they shall be working on a method of returning us to the
Alpha Quadrant.  Every day he must awaken to the concern that today
might be the day assistance arrives or we decode Starfleet's message."

"And the day it does he thinks he is headed right back to prison."

"That was the second time that day he'd mentioned parole and prison."
B'Elanna admitted.

"So it is weighing heavily on his mind."  Kathryn frowned. "I know he
probably is right about them making an example of him, but I can't
believe that with his record on Voyager they'd send him back there.
They need him too much.  He's too good to lose."

Tuvok might as well have shrugged.  "It will depend on how heavily
they weigh your reports concerning Lt. Paris's performance here
against the need to provide an example and not be accused of leniency
for the privileged.  Starfleet may well choose saving face over all
else.  They will not wish to be proven wrong in their so thorough
condemnation of him as a failure.  However, in light of the vast
improvements he has made here, they may find it difficult to
rationalize the action."

Harry groaned.  "If only that letter from his father hadn't been lost.
We wouldn't have to be speculating.  We would know if they were going
to free him or what."

"To save face, it most probably will be a strictly monitored parole,
not a suspended sentence, Ensign Kim.  But you are correct. Its loss
does leaves him without a clue as to the nature of the reception he
will receive upon returning home."

"That could place quite a strain on him." the Doctor agreed, catching
on to Tuvok's train of thought.  "This new attitude of his could be a
manifestation of that fear."

"I don't understand." Neelix admitted.

"He is escaping into the unreality of the Holodeck, trying to retreat
from everyone.  His way of avoiding the reality of one day losing the
freedom being in the Delta Quadrant has provided him."

"But how does avoiding Sickbay fit in?"

"I think it may be another escape from reality." Kathryn explained.
"Nothing is more real than the life and death which goes on there."
She ran her hand through her hair.  "I also think there is more to it
than that.  After Steth was gone and I read the Doctor's report about
their interactions, I was disturbed by what I'd read so I went to
Tom's quarters."  She smiled wryly.  "They looked like he was in the
midst of scouring them to remove all traces of Steth, not that I blame
him.  I would have done the same had Steth been in my body longer than
the couple of hours and touched all my things and slept in my bed."

---

"Captain." Tom gestured towards the living area with a cleaning rag in
his hands.  "Come in."

"Thank you."  She stepped into the room.  Over their years on Voyager
there had been few reasons for her to enter her helmsman's living
space.  When she had come, she had become accustomed to seeing a
T-shirt over the foot of his bed or a stack of padds toppled over on
his couch or coffee table.  It was the usual clutter of a semi-neat
bachelor.  Today, however, it looked like it was an Academy cadet's
quarters ready for inspection.  Today, it was neat as a pin with
everything gleaming like new.

"So, to what do I owe you this pleasure?" he asked, motioning her to
the couch.

"Actually, I came because I needed to discuss this with you, Tom."
Kathryn handed him a padd then sat where he had indicated.

"The Doc's report about Steth?  What more do you need to know? I filed
my report."

"I know.  I read it.  What I need to know, Tom, is: is what he told
the Doctor true?"

Tom looked at her blankly.  At her gesturing towards the padd, he
scanned it, stiffening at the contents.

"Is it true, Tom?" she asked again.  "Is what Steth told the Doctor
about medicine not coming easy to you like most other things do and
your feeling unable to live up to the Doctor's lofty standards true?
Is that how you really feel?"

Not looking at her, he returned the report and collected the pile of
clean uniforms from the refresher.  When he strode into his bedroom
area, she was right behind him.

"Seven caught Steth reading my personal logs, Tom." she reminded him
as he set the garments on the expertly made bed and headed for the
closet with one of them.  "The only explanation for that is he planned
all along to move into me at some point and was preparing for that
eventuality.  We know he downloaded all the files pertaining to you
before he switched bodies with you.  He had to have studied them so he
could blend in easier."

Tom hung the uniform up them headed for another one without
commenting.  He repeated this twice more before she came up behind him
and laid a hand on his back.  The muscles under her hand were taut.
Tension radiated off of him like heat from a fire.

"I know you don't like talking about your feelings, Tom, but if you
are having doubts you must talk about it.  If this is true, I'll help
you work through it.  I need you in Sickbay as much as I do at the
helm."  The hand glided up to grasp his shoulder.  "I promise to keep
it between us. It will go no farther."

---

"And then Chakotay called me to the Bridge to tell me about finding
this planet we now orbit and wanting to stop to survey for food,
materials, and shoreleave so Tom never did answer me."

Chakotay frowned at his bad timing and stared at his hands. She laid a
hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Commander.  Given his attitude, I doubt he would have
answered me truthfully anyway."  she assured him.

Slumping back into the couch, Harry sighed.  "So if Tom's acting this
way because he is scared of what the future may hold, what do we do
about it?"

"Obviously he needs to be reassured of his value and progress." the
Commander concluded.  "The past is behind him and he is a new man, a
valued member of this crew.  The despised traitor and convict who
boarded as an observer almost five years ago is gone."

"Agreed."  Kathryn ran a hand through her hair.  "The catch is, how do
we do it?  We all know Tom is awkward with receiving praise unless it
is about his flying abilities.  He's not used to any praise for
anything else and has difficulty accepting it."

"I have observed Lt. Paris to be one who responds well to physical
displays." Seven commented.  "As Ensign Kim stated in his account, he
is more comfortable with a physical exchange than a verbal one.  He
has exhibited such with you numerous times, Captain."

"Explain."

"You have a tendency to touch people, Captain.  On the Bridge alone, I
have observed you place one or both hands on Lt. Paris's shoulder
while he was at the helm 57 times since I boarded. Typically, he will
smile at the sentiment you no doubt have meant to convey to him."

"So what are you suggesting?" Harry asked.  "We all give him a group
hug?"

All except Tuvok, Seven, and B'Elanna grinned at that idea.

"Actually, Ensign Kim, I was not suggesting a course of action, merely
making an observation."

Chakotay threw out another idea.  "We have to do something which would
demonstrate his worth to him.  A party or something akin to that. Tom
does love a party and the casual atmosphere would put him at ease.  He
might accept what we tell him."

"No," Harry vehemently disagreed, "Tom would hate that."

B'Elanna picked up the explanation.  "He doesn't mind being the centre
of attention if he is telling a joke or something like that, something
which will be over in a short time then someone else can take centre
stage.  An entire party in his honour?  He'd hate it.  You remember
how he claimed fatigue and ducked out of his welcome back party after
he'd ferreted out Jonas as a Kazon spy."

"How could I forget that interlude?"  Chakotay rubbed his jaw where
Paris had hit him during his performance as "Paris the Malcontent"
before he left Voyager.

"What if...."  Neelix slid forwards to the edge of the couch. "What if
Tom were left in charge of Sickbay and he saved someone's life."

"Excuse me?" the EMH gasped, clearly affronted at the suggestion.

"No, no, hear me out." the Talaxian begged.  "Tom is uncomfortable
being in Sickbay, right?  He is worried he can't cope with what he
will be confronted with there.  What if it were proved to him he could
cope?"

"And precisely how do you plan to orchestrate this?  Put me off line
and phaser one of the crew?"  Sarcasm dripped from every syllable.

"No, of course not, Doctor.  I-"

"Because you'd have to do something drastic to get him in there,
believe me."

"What if it were Harry or B'Elanna was sick?" Chakotay asked.

"Cucumber."

All eyes snapped to Seven at her seeming non sequitur. "Naomi Wildman.
Lt. Paris once was called away from a project we were working on to go
treat her.  He told me, she absolutely refuses to permit the Doctor to
treat her."

"I don't know why, but she prefers Mr. Paris to do it." the EMH stated
haughtily.

"She might be proper incentive to lure him back to Sickbay. Perhaps
another case of indigestion from chewing on her crayons."

"I thought she had stopped that." Neelix, godfather of the little girl
in question, interrupted.

"For a while, yes," the Doctor confirmed, "but I doubt it will
continue."

The Captain frowned.  "No matter who the designated patient was you'd
literally have to make them sick though.  The diagnostic equipment
would make it impossible to fake an illness."

"And Ensign Wildman, Mr. Paris, and I have spent so long trying to
cure her of that habit.  If we suddenly told her to forget what we had
said and do it again-"

"She would not understand the mixed messages she was getting." the
Captain finished for him.

"The simple solution is either to programme the equipment to return
false readings or to use a holographic representation of the specific
patient." Tuvok interjected.  "The holoemitters in Sickbay can be used
for that purpose.  However that would be missing the point.  The root
of Mr. Paris's problem is not Sickbay; it merely is a symptom.  His
problem appears to be a need to feel more certain about all aspects of
his life, not only one.  If it is his future which is of the greatest
concern to him, then it is upon reinforcing the potential positive
outcome of that future any efforts must concentrate."

With that pronouncement, the Vulcan began to outline his idea.

---

As she undertook her long journey to his position, she maintained the
link to him that she had forged, without his knowledge, upon her first
sensing his existence in the Universe. Part of her wished there were
another method of finding him than that link. Because of her efforts
to keep him in her mind, the sound of his screaming and images from
her first, one-sided encounter with him haunted her waking thoughts
and nightmares haunted her sleep as she was certain they did his.
Some times, when she was awake and the sounds and images almost were
absent, she would be able to return to her deep meditation, hoping he
would revisit the place where she learned of him, hoping she might
then be able to learn more about him. Yet he never reappeared there.
She spoke at length with the animals, the "spirit guides" as they
referred to themselves, but they still knew nothing more about what
had occurred than she did.

So she patiently awaited the day they would meet in person to confirm
or eliminate him as the one she sought.  In the meantime, she endured
the nightmares like the one he was having at that very instant.  It
was not the worst of the atrocities she had witnessed through his
eyes.  Disjointed fragments of scenes of violence, destruction, death,
all had assaulted her without mercy and made no sense.  She only hoped
they did not destroy him before she could reach him.

---

It was so long ago now.  So much had happened in the interim, all
leading inexorably back to what occurred on that biobed, in The
Treatment Room in The Lab at The Centre.  "The Maltreatment Room", a
part of his mind snarled, that was what they should have called it.

At less than two hours old, he was at an age most would insist the
average humanoid would neither be able to remember nor focus his or
her eyes.  True, there were no clear images of that hated place. His
dimly aware mind only processed the blinding lights and the pain. Oh,
the pain. It felt like the very inside of his head was on fire.

The scene shifted forward eight years.  Now he stood in an anteroom to
the Treatment Room.  Beside him stood one of The Protectors, Alpha
Two, his proud creator and principle controller.  He listened as Alpha
Two painstakingly explained each step of the process being performed
on a three-day-old Bolian girl on the other side of the transparent
aluminum window.

"You were slightly younger than she is when you received your Implant,
AlphaOmegan 41783." Alpha Two informed him in the matter-of-fact tone
of voice he and his fellow Vulcans all had in common.  "Even as small
as The Implant is, a momentary pain is felt when it is inserted into
the brain.  If you watch the monitor, you shall see the process."

As he was conditioned to do, AlphaOmegan 41783 obeyed and watched the
monitor on the desk before them.  At first it showed only a subatomic
scan of normal brain tissue.  Then it changed as the microscopic
device was beamed into the centre of the girl's cerebrum. With in a
split second it had settled itself in its new home and spread out to
establish subcentres throughout her brain. Suddenly, The Implant
vanished.  AlphaOmegan 41783 briefly narrowed his gaze, eyes still on
the monitor.

Had Alpha Two been anything other than Vulcan he would have scowled at
that.

"It is cloaked." the boy concluded, frown lifting.  "So any medical
scans which are done will not stumble across it."

"Yes.  AlphaOmegan 41783, you must learn to control your emotions and
outward displays of said emotions.  When you were confused by the
disappearance of The Implant just now, your confusion showed on your
face. You must not permit this to continue.  You must subjugate your
emotions and any such displays.  If I could see it, you can be certain
an enemy would. It gives the enemy an unfair advantage if it is simple
to know what you are thinking merely by looking at your face." Alpha
Two then intoned the words which would follow AlphaOmegan 41783 into
his other life as Thomas Eugene Paris.  "Never permit anyone to know
your true thoughts or feelings or they will find a way to use them
against you."

"I will do better, Alpha Two." the child responded automatically in a
monotone of his own.

"See that you do.  I do not wish to have to resort to Re-education as
the means of your achieving this necessary skill."

Another leap forward.  This time it was a sixteen year leap and not to
The Treatment Room or the anteroom.  This time it was the Re-education
Room.

"Do you understand?!" Alpha Three growled at the bloodied and
exhausted twenty-four year old strapped into the chair in the centre
of the chamber. Alpha Four stood silently off to one side of the door
watching the Re-education of their fallen angel. Alpha Two's star
pupil had failed them.  His Romulan brows lowered in a frown.  It was
inconceivable. AlphaOmegan 41783 had been perfect, the best of all the
AlphaOmegan soldiers.  Except for the routine corrections that had to
be made to his behaviour as he matured, there never had been a call
for a Re-education on this scale.

Alpha Two entered the room.  His eyes evaluated the young man barely
conscious and trembling uncontrollably.  His eyes took in the
frustrated look on Alpha Three's already fierce Klingon face.  He
turned to the Romulan with one brow raised in mute inquiry.  He did
not like the shake of the head he received. "I should have been
informed the moment he was recaptured." Alpha Two censured Alpha Four.

"You were busy with Alpha One discussing the Gamma Quadrant
situation." the Romulan explained calmly.  "The Re-education had to
begin as soon as possible."

Alpha Three stomped over to them.  "It's not working.  I have injected
him with seven doses of the burayte so far and he still had not
surrendered control."

"Perhaps, Alpha Three, you should abandon that approach." Alpha Two
said suggested.

She cast her narrowed gaze back to the prisoner.  "Are you trying to
say he's become immune to the burayte?"

"Or built up a tolerance."

"Impossible." Alpha Four scoffed.

"Unlikely, not impossible.  Because it never has been done before does
not mean it cannot happen.  The proof may be right before you.  They
have been conditioned to respond to the burayte yet he has not."

Alpha Three glared at the hypospray in her hand then looked
inquiringly at Alpha Two.  "So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest you let me handle this."

They looked at him appraisingly.

"He was not Awake until you brought him in?"

"No." Alpha Four answered.  "It was Tom Paris that we captured, not
AlphaOmegan 41783."

"Good."

Alpha Three snorted.  "Don't be so relieved.  Have you seen the
visuals the retrieval team brought back?"

"Yes, I have."

"Then you can see as well as we can that the two have overlapped. Tom
Paris clearly desired revenge for what Camet did to Owen Paris and
AlphaOmegan 41783 provided the means by which he got that revenge."

Alpha Four interrupted her.  "I am still wondering how Paris knew
about what Camet did to his father.  Owen Paris is a Starfleet
Officer. The entire incident was classified.  He would not have told
anyone, even his son, and especially not nine years after the fact. It
makes no sense."

"Regardless," Alpha Three continued, "Tom Paris was able to access to
enough of AlphaOmegan 41783's skills to track Camet and Meer and evade
us, what more of him will he gain access to? If he can't be brought
back into the fold-"

"He will have to be dealt with, I agree." Alpha Two concurred. "He
knows and is capable of too much to be set free. But permit me to try
first.  If I am unsuccessful, then the necessary steps will be taken."

Reluctantly, the other two nodded and left.  Alpha Two was the man's
controller and patron.  He did have the most experience with him.  If
he could not get him back, no one could.

When the chamber door closed, Alpha Two turned his gaze back to the
prisoner.  The tremors had calmed somewhat.  He drew a chair over to
the restrained man's side.

"You surprised me, AlphaOmegan 41783." he admitted, propping the
sagging head back against the head rest.

The clouded blue eyes tried to focus on his teacher.

"Were you a mere AlphaOmegan you would be dead right now, eliminated
because you would not be worth the time and expense of trying to bring
you back to us.  But Alpha One and I personally made you one of the
Chosen Ones."  He leaned in closer.  "But we are not going to give you
up so easily.  You are an AlphaOmegan and a Chosen One and we have
need of you right away.  No one else is suitable for this duty except
you so you are going to come back to us."  The Vulcan's hand lifted,
fingers splayed and zeroing intently on the human's cheek.  "You'll
never leave us. You're one of us and we never let go of what's ours."

---

Tom Paris awoke with jolt and sat up straight, Alpha Two's words
echoing in his head.  Thrusting his hands through his hair, he groaned
and reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Computer, end alarm."

Obediently, the wake up alarm ceased.

"The time?"

"The time is 0630."

Dragging himself off of his couch, he walked through the bathroom,
discarding his slept in uniform along the way.  His lids remained at
half-mast the entire way into the shower.  Long hours spent surveying
and collecting supplies from the planet they orbited had taken its
toll on him over the past week.  As expected of all the crew, he had
taken his turn planetside, but without the excitement which for him
typically accompanied liberty.

Liberty, he snorted to himself, that word was a slap in the face for a
man who no longer had freedom.  It was hard to escape from the harsh
reality of his life when the reality went with you everywhere you
went. All he wanted right now was eight to ten hours of peaceful,
uninterrupted sleep.

*Like you deserve it.* Gul Camet's bitter voice echoed in Tom's head.

And reality was awake again.

Tom rubbed his temples to ease the ache that was forming there as it
had every day for the last two months.   There could be many
explanations for this pain.  His lack of adequate sleep. The presence
of Camet and the others hiding in his subconscious. The malfunction of
The Implant in his brain.  Or, the most likely answer, the strain of
trying to act like the normal Tom Paris while AlphaOmegan 41783's
programmed behaviours were vying for supremacy.  All he did know was
that only working on his project on the Holodeck could banish the pain
completely.

With his knowledge of the intended outcome of said project, Camet was
silent during those times.  At first Tom had worried the long dead
Cardassian would some how force him to reveal his plan before the need
to enact it came, if it ever did.  Later, he realized Camet either was
biding his time or he approved of the outcome so did not plan to
reveal all... yet.  Tom had no choice other than to continue his
preparations and wait him out, not there was much he could do to
thwart someone hiding somewhere in the darkest recesses of his
memories.

Damn, how he wished he never had asked Chakotay to show him how to
contact his spirit guide all of those weeks ago. Maybe if he had not
felt envious of the Commander's calmness and self-control he would not
have touched the akoonah and it would not have shut down The Implant.
Maybe then The Sleep would be continuing and he never would have known
the awful truth about his past.

*One day this precious crew will know you for what you are.* Camet
taunted.

No, Tom insisted, they won't know because I won't ever tell them. The
spirit guides promised me they'd never tell anyone what little they
know about me.  If no one tells the others, they won't ever know.

*But we know.* he laughed maliciously and the others in his mind
joined in.  Though the Gul had taken to speaking for the others now in
residence inside Tom's mind, there were occasions like this in which
all of them spoke up to remind of their presence.  *It all will come
out,* Camet continued after the laughter had diminished, *about you
being an AlphaOmegan-*

A rare few know what that is, Tom interrupted.  Those who do think
we're a garbled historical anecdote from the early days of the
Federation. To their minds, if the AlphaOmegans ever existed, they
were disbanded over a century and a half ago.  Any continued tales of
us are chalked up to stories created by conspiracy minded individuals
with overactive paranoia. Even the Federation President doesn't know
we still exist.

*-And they'll know what you did to me and my father and the others who
were with us.*

I went temporarily insane, Tom insisted, forcing back the emotions
which threatened him.  Finding out the truth sent me over the edge.

*Like they'll believe that when they hear of all the things you did
for The Protectors.*

The Gul scored a direct hit as he knew he would. I was mentally and
chemically conditioned to follow all of The Protectors' orders. They
can't blame me for doing what I was ordered to do and in the manner in
which I was programmed to do it.  Not when I had no other choice in
the matter.

*Like they will care about whether you wanted to do it or not when
they know the whole truth.  A killer is a killer is a killer. And you
are one.  One of the most vicious and cold blooded ones there is.*

It's not my fault.  The Protectors made me what I am.  I didn't have
any say in it.

*Oh, yes, The Protectors.  Your dear, demented leaders who'll want you
dead too as soon as they know you're Awake and know all. Alpha Two
told you they wouldn't let you go alive. I'll bet they're already
planning the little accident which will do you in.*

It was on the tip of Tom's tongue to deny Camet's claim, but after a
second thought he did not voice it.  There was no hope left that he
had been omitted from the EMH's report to Starfleet as an oversight.
The hope had died the moment B'Elanna had called him down to
Astrometrics about the message from the Admiral.  If his father knew
he was alive then certainly The Protectors knew as well.  The one
truly good thing about the loss of the Admiral's message - other than
he would not have to hear yet again about what a failure he was - was
that any message from The Protectors, which doubtless had been
imbedded in his father's, it was lost too.  Now they would not be able
to issue The Implant new Commands through the message.  He actually
might have a chance of retaining the life he had created for himself
here on Voyager.

*Chance of....*  Camet laughed malevolently.  *You don't honestly
think they'll let you run free?  You, their star pupil? One of their
Chosen Ones?  Surely The Re-education after the last time you went
rogue would be enough to convince you they know you are too dangerous
to be let roaming free.  Besides, you won't have you precious little
life here much longer.  Even now, it is becoming harder and harder for
you to keep from letting your true self out. Some time soon
AlphaOmegan 41783 is going to overwhelm Tom Paris and then everyone
will know everything.*

Tom knew he was right.  He had been so careful since Awoken, literally
and metaphorically, after the disaster with Chakotay's akoonah. And he
had fooled everyone for over two months so far.  Not wanting to pry,
they cautiously had avoided the subject of his missing day and a half.
Though he did sense some of them wondered if he were lying, most had
swallowed the story he remembered nothing of his experience in the
Spirit Realm or why he had been screaming for the majority of the time
he was there. Yet, as the days passed it was becoming increasingly
more difficult to keep up the pretence.  The effort was becoming too
much for him.  As most on the ship knew only his joking persona, it
was simple to hide the changes in him from them.  Trying to keep
things from B'Elanna, who now knew him better than even Harry, was a
trial.  He had taken to the Holodeck to hide from her.  And to work on
his only hope of evading The Protectors when Voyager finally reached
the Alpha Quadrant, he conceded.

*And what makes you think The Protectors will wait that long to get
you back?  What makes you think they sent a message to no one else?
You can't be sure you're the only AlphaOmegan on board.  Were they one
hundred percent positive of your loyalty to them when they sent you
here?  Hardly. How could they be after you went rogue?  I wouldn't be
a bit surprised if The Protectors had placed another AlphaOmegan on
board Voyager as back up in case you weren't totally back in line and
didn't complete The Mission as instructed.  Perhaps even now one of
those who did receive a letter from the Alpha Quadrant is Awakening to
who they really are as you did and plotting to terminate you for
failing to complete The Mission.  Remembered what that Mission was,
yet?*

Why don't you just tell me what it was and get it over with, Camet,
Tom growled.  Clearly, you're dying to.

Oh, but that would ruin all our fun, he returned smugly.

Tom hurried out of the shower.  I may not remember what it was, but
they can't fault me for not completing it.  The Caretaker's snatching
us from the Badlands and bringing us here couldn't have been foreseen.
Voyager not being in the Alpha Quadrant and my not doing what I was
supposed to do is not my fault, Tom insisted desperately, yanking on a
pair of briefs.

*Cling to your delusions.* the Gul cackled.  *I doubt you'll have them
for long.*

Shaking, Tom drew on a clean uniform then socks and boots. There is no
use in bemoaning the past, he told the long dead Cardassian with more
certainty than he felt.  What is done is done.

Before Camet could argue further, the commbadge still attached to the
uniform on the floor chirped.

"Captain to Senior Staff.  Meeting in ten minutes."

So much for breakfast, Tom thought and walked out, grabbing the
commbadge along the way.

---

"I couldn't believe it when Nicoletti told me." Harry was saying to
Neelix when Tom entered the Conference Room and took his seat.

"It is rather surprising, isn't it?" the Talaxian responded. "Only two
months ago everyone was receiving word from the Alpha Quadrant and
wishing they were home and now..."

"I know." Harry laughed.

Tom opened his mouth to ask "And now 'what'?" but was interrupted by
the arrival of B'Elanna and Tuvok.  As Tom gave B'Elanna a brief smile
as she sat down, the Captain and Chakotay entered and took their
seats, closely followed by the Doctor.

"If we can begin?" Kathryn asked to catch everyone's attention. Once
all eyes were on her she smiled at them.  "As I can see from the looks
on most of your faces some of you have already heard of the events of
Gamma shift."

"So it's true then?" Harry interrupted, his enthusiasm getting the
better of him.

She smiled indulgently.  "Yes, Harry, it's true.  We are approximately
fifteen days travel at Warp 5 away from the farthest edge of explored
Alpha Quadrant space."

Tom's jaw dropped.

Beside him, B'Elanna shifted forwards in her chair.  "But how? A
wormhole?"

Chakotay answered for the Captain.  "During Gamma shift we discovered
the planet we were orbiting was not as unclaimed as we thought. A ship
entered the system and demanded to know our intentions.  After we
explained, they sympathized with our plight and sent us home."

"How?"

"They said something to the effect of  'Then you should be home' and
suddenly we found ourselves here.  No one has a clue how they did it."

"So they sent us home out of the goodness of their hearts?"

"They had been through something similar themselves and could
empathize with us." Kathryn explained, shrugging.

"Have you contacted Starfleet yet?" Tom asked casually.

"Not yet.  This area of space seems to have too much natural
interference for us to do so."

"Maybe I can do something to cut through it," Harry offered hopefully,
"then we can let everyone know we're coming."

Kathryn smiled.  "Maybe you can, Harry.  But, even if you can't, we
should be through it in a few days then we will be able to contact
them. In the meantime, we all have a lot to do."

As the Captain outlined the plans for the next two weeks and ideas
were pitched for the party Neelix insisted must be thrown to celebrate
their good fortune, no one seemed to notice Tom Paris's introspective
mood. He answered when needed yet did not volunteer anything further
to the conversation.  He gave every appearance studying the
navigational information collected by the Gamma shift upon finding
themselves in an area immediately outside of - as far as Voyager's
four years out of date databanks knew - previously explored space.

---

"Tom?"  A hand stroked his hair.  "Tom, you with me?"

He jumped as though he had just stuck his hand in the warp core.  It
took his distracted blue eyes almost a minute to register his
surroundings. Everyone else had disappeared while he had been so lost
in his thoughts that he had not even noticed the meeting was over.
Without a word, he reached out and traced her features with his
fingertips.

"Tom?" she whispered again.

"I need to get to Sickbay."  He kissed her gently then rose and walked
out, leaving one very puzzled half-Klingon behind him.

---

"Ah, Mr. Paris, how typical.  Voyager almost is home and now you
decide to show up to continue your studies."

Stepping further into the Doctor's office, Tom ignored the sarcasm.
"I'm not here about that, Doc."  He took a breath.  "I'm here for
you."

"For me?"

"Yes.  At the meeting you didn't seem to grasp what this will mean for
you and your family."

"Grasp what *what* will mean?"

"Voyager is returning home."

"Yes."

"You are the Emergency Medical Hologram."

"Yes."

"The emergency will be over when we get there.  Have you thought about
what will happen to you and your family then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He paused, gathering his words.  "I mean, to put it
bluntly, you're a hologram, the Emergency Medical Holographic
programme. When this ship returns to the Alpha Quadrant the emergency
will be over. Haven't you worried that they won't permit you to
continue to exist?"

The Doctor stared at him, silently affronted.

"I mean, everyone on board Voyager knows you have long since ceased to
be a mere hologram, but I wonder if Starfleet will see it that way."

"They didn't treat me as a 'mere hologram' when I met with them." he
declared in a superior tone.

"Then you were a message from a ship presumed lost long ago and you
had just saved the Prometheus from the Romulans.  They didn't know
quite what to make of you.  The problem is no matter how much you have
grown since your activation, to anyone not of Voyager, you'll always
be a hologram and nothing more.  Your very existence causes problems,
ethical and moral ones.  The whole 'Is he alive or not' and 'Is he
sentient or not' debates will be brought up.  If they declare you
alive and sentient what about your wife and son?  Are Charlene and
Jeffrey any less alive or sentient?  What will any judgment about you
three mean for other holograms?  If you three are alive, how complex
does the programme have to be to be declared alive and sentient, as
well? Think of the chaos that will ensue."

"I don't think-"

"Doc, people are enamoured with holoprogrammes and the characters in
them.  What would happen if those characters abruptly were declared
sentient?  I think of all the holographic Klingons I've killed in my
martial arts programmes.  If holograms are declared sentient I'll be
declared a murderer."

Inwardly, Tom blanched at the truth in that statement and Gul Camet
and company laughed.

"So you are thinking in order to avoid the entire debate they might
find some loophole to avoid addressing it and erase us."

"I doubt they'll erase you, Doc.  Everything you've learned over the
past for years is far too valuable to them to be lost. I just wonder
what form your existence will be permitted to be."

The EMH considered this in horror.

"Doc, I've done a bit of research.  Looking for precedents and
arguments which might help your case.  Why don't you take the rest of
the day off and go home and review it with Charlene and Jeffrey?  I
can transfer the information to your home for you."

He hesitated and Tom ploughed on.

"The Captain is in a meeting with Chakotay and Tuvok right now, but
once they're through we'll go to them and see what they can do. Until
then there is nothing you can do except spend some time with your
family.  I can handle whatever comes up here. "

The Doc nodded, distractedly.

"Try Holodeck One.  The others are off-line for routine maintenance."
he lied.  He was not going to admit his tampering was the real reason
they were off-line.  He did not want to have to explain why he had
need of them. But, thanks to another glitch he had caused in another
of the ship's systems, the Holodecks had become a low priority on the
repair list. Engineering would be too occupied with the bigger problem
to worry about the Holodecks until much later.

Not knowing what he himself was in for, the hologram acquiesced and
sent himself to the Holodeck One.

Tom slumped against the doorframe, hands rubbing over his face. Except
for the last bit about the Holodecks, every word he had said to the
Doc was true, he rationalized.  Who knew what would happen to the Doc
when an organic medical staff would be available to fulfill his
function on the ship.  It was better that he and his family were
prepared for the worst ahead of time. Remembering that did not make
Tom feel any better. Focusing on his goal, he determinedly pushed
himself upright and the feelings of guilt away.

"Computer, run programme Paris Padlock, Holodeck One."

"Programme running."

"Transfer file Paris Holographic Defence Arguments to Holodeck One.
EMH programme authorized to access this programme."

"Acknowledged."

That should keep you there and busy until I'm done, Doc, he thought.
Talking to his family and reviewing the extensive research Tom had
done on his behalf would keep the Doctor occupied for at least an
hour, Tom guessed.  After that he was running the risk the EMH would
attempt to exit the Holodeck or contact someone outside only to
discover Tom's Padlock programme had him trapped and incommunicado.
Tom did not like the idea of the anxiety that would cause the Doc and
his family, yet isolating the Doctor was the only way he could think
of for keeping him out of the way until he had done what needed to be
done.

Taking a deep breath, he hurried behind the Doctor's desk. At the
desktop terminal, he breeched the CMO's logs, reviewed any entries
mentioning himself over the past two months then closed them and
accessed his own medical file.  After reading the passage regarding
debacle with the akoonah, he ever so slightly manipulated the results
of the scans that the Doctor had taken of him at that point and
onwards to the most recent ones. That will throw The Protectors off of
the scent, he thought, closing the file and leaving the office.

In the main treatment area of Sickbay, he begin imputing instructions
into the medical replicator.  A moment later, a small vial of deep
purple liquid appeared.  This he fitted into an empty hypospray and
set it to one side.  He removed four small, empty compressed gas
canisters from a cupboard and placed them in the medical replicator
slot one at a time for the replicator to fill. While each was being
processed, he emptied a medkit of its contents then stared intently at
the hypospray on the counter.

It was so small, he thought, yet it had such potential to-

He broke off his thought.  He had too much to do to waste time. He
tucked the special hypospray into a side pocket of the kit and
carefully deposited the now full canisters in the main compartment.
Slinging the bag diagonally across his chest, he approached the access
panel to the Jefferies tube.

Last chance to change your mind, he thought, hand on the panel
release.  Sighing, he shook his head.  "Computer, access Holodeck
programmes and run Paris programme Alpha One Grease Monkey in Holodeck
Two."

"Programme running."

"Add Paris Sleep One Part One."

"Added."

With the computer prepared to warn him of anyone's arrival in Sickbay
and secretly beam him back there instantly, he triggered the panel
release and entered the Jefferies tube.  He had considered the problem
from every angle and knew there was no other option.  He only hoped
none of the crew had reason to call or come to Sickbay in need of
medical attention while he was off trying to save their lives.

---

Tom froze at the sound of voices.  A maintenance crew.  He had known
he was pushing his legendary luck by hoping no one would stumble
across him while he crawled to four different sections of the ship to
place the canisters where they needed to go.  It would be so like
everything else in his life for Fate to step in and slap him down when
he was seconds away from installing the last canister and returning to
Sickbay.

Fate must have heard his thoughts and decided to jerk him around some
more because he was *not* discovered as he expected. The voices where
drowned out by the sound of an access panel being opened then closed a
few seconds later.  All was quiet. The crewmembers had exited the
Jefferies tube.  Not wishing to press his luck, he finished his task
and hurried back to Sickbay as quickly as possible.

"Computer, confirm no one has been in Sickbay since I left?" he
commanded as he closed the panel.

"Confirmed.  No personnel have been in Sickbay in the corresponding
timeframe."

Tom reached for a blank padd and noticed for the first time that his
hand was shaking.  Stop it, he ordered himself.  There is no need for
this. Focus on the outcome.  In two hours, three tops, this will all
be over. You have to be strong for the others.  Remember, what you are
doing is right.  Even if they never understand the real reason why,
you have to protect them from what is to come.

The shaking lessened yet did not stop entirely.

"Computer, add Cauchemar variation to programme in Holodeck Two."

"Variation added."

Under his feet, he could feel Voyager slow and finally stop
completely.  Very few other than B'Elanna honestly believed his claim
he literally could sense Voyager's speed by the infinitesimal
vibrations of the deck plates under his feet.  He had proved it to
them over and over again as a party trick yet all except the Chief
Engineer had assumed it was a carefully concocted ruse.  B'Elanna
believed him because she could do the same yet about any technical
difficulties the ship might be experiencing, not her speed.  Had he
time to think, he would have hated it to be about her reaction to
Voyager's abrupt drop out of warp and slowing to stop.

Fitting his blank padd into computer console's slot to send and
receive data, Tom tapped out a few commands on the console.

"Computer, start Paris Sleep One Part Two."

"Acknowledged."

He felt the pressure on his ears change as the circulation vents to
and from Sickbay closed and the force fields crackle to life to
totally isolate Sickbay from the rest of the ship.  As the computer
counted down from one hundred, he watched the information about every
crewmember's location and medical status download to the padd.  By the
time the computer arrived at zero, the download was complete.

"The Myzine gas level is at zero." the feminine monotone announced.

The force field dropped and his ears popped as the vents opened.
Working his jaw to relieve the slight pain from the change in
pressure, he added the padd of information and a medical tricorder to
the bag.

"Computer, beam all of the personnel currently in the Mess Hall to
Cargo Bay Two." Tom ordered as he left Sickbay.

---

Deck by deck, Tom found crewmembers slumped over consoles and each
other, unconscious.  Carefully, he moved each one to the floor,
scanned them with the tricorder then checked them off on the padd.
Each time he found one of those who were highlighted on the padd, he
ordered him or her beamed to the Mess Hall.  It was an eerie task. The
ship was silent. People he knew so well were strewn about like Naomi's
toys after playtime. He had to leave half of them wherever he had lain
them.

Occasionally though, he almost laughed at some of the sights which
greeted him.  The newest couple on Voyager was sprawled across the
floor of a turbolift, still liplocked. Vorik and Jenny Delaney were in
a heap on the deck next to a console they had been repairing, him with
his hand on her posterior.  Several crewmembers were in some state of
dishabille.

The last stop he made before heading for the Bridge was Neelix's
quarters.  As expected, he found Naomi and her godfather sprawled on
the living room floor amongst her toys.

"Computer, beam Neelix to the Mess Hall." he instructed after scanning
the Talaxian and the little girl.

As Neelix vanished, Tom returned the tricorder and padd to his bag and
lifted the little girl into his arms.  Tenderly, he brushed the masses
of blonde hair from her face.  "I'm going to miss you, Cucumber." he
whispered, calling her by his special name for her. "I'd hope to have
more time with you, but this is the way it has to be."

He kissed her forehead then cradled her to his chest. Moments later,
he was striding down the corridor with her to the nearest turbolift.

"Bridge." he ordered as their destination.  "You'll finally get to see
the real Bridge, Cucumber, not the one I created on the holodeck to
show you.  I think the Captain will relax the 'no children permitted
on the Bridge' rule for once."

The doors opened at the Bridge level.  Ignoring for the moment the
sight of the unconscious Bridge crew, he walked straight to the
science station where Samantha Wildman lay, half in her chair, half on
the floor. Gently laying the little girl down, he moved her mother
down beside her, arranging the two so daughter comfortably rested in
mother's arms.

Nodding to himself, he began shifting everyone else to the floor. For
a long moment, he remained kneeling beside Harry, smoothing the thick
black hair away from his best friend's face. He was going to miss his
little brother, his best friend, his role model.  Maybe, had there
been enough time, Harry could have redeemed him.  Tom smiled
crookedly.  But there wasn't time.  He brushed a kiss across the young
man's forehead then patted his chest before rising and going down the
stairs to the lower level of the Bridge once more.

He squatted down at B'Elanna's side where she lay on the floor next to
the Engineering console.  The tremors in his hands were back, stronger
than ever.  As he looked down at the woman he loved, a part of his
brain begged him not to do this or at least change the intended
outcome.

*And you know what will happen it you do.* Camet reminded him with a
sneer.  *The reason you started all this was so it didn't happen.*

I know, Tom ground out, snatching his hand away from his beloved's
face.  "Computer, beam Lt. Torres, to the Mess Hall."

B'Elanna dematerialized.  He scrambled to his feet and entered the
Ready Room.  After a quick scan of Chakotay, slumped in the guest
chair before the desk, he ordered him to the Mess Hall and turned his
attention to the Captain.  Thankfully, she, too, scanned as having no
ill effects from the myzine gas.  Tom gathered her in his arms to
carry her over to the couch.  After arranging her with a pillow under
her head, he laid a hand on her cheek.

"You should have listened to everyone when I came on board, Captain."
he rebuked her sadly.  "They all warned you I was no good. You should
have paid attention."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek then left, taking his things with him.

---

Two metres from the doors to the Mess Hall, Tom halted.

"Computer, run Paris Sleep One Part Three in the Mess Hall."

A forcefield blinked to life and barred the doors.  He waited
semi-patiently until the computer announced Paris Sleep One Part Three
was complete and the forcefield fell.

As he entered the Mess Hall, moans could be heard from the seventy-one
Tom had beamed to the Mess Hall.  They still lay on the floor, across
each other, and slumped in chairs, wherever the computer had found
space to stash them until he came for them. Now, as the antidote the
computer had just administered began to counteract the myzine, Tom
murmured quiet reassurances as he scanned each person in turn with the
tricorder. By the time he reached B'Elanna, whom he intentionally had
saved for last, most of the group were looking groggily around them.

"Tom?" she mumbled muzzily.

"It's okay, B'Elanna.  Lie still for a moment.  The myzine hits
Klingons a little harder than other species."

"What is going on, Lieutenant?" Chakotay asked, bracing himself
against a table a couple metres away to hold himself upright.

"All will be explained once everyone is lucid, Chakotay. In the
meantime, if you can get everyone to take a seat?"

"Okay."  Chakotay was reluctant yet did as asked, enlisting the aid of
Neelix, Seven, and some of the others who were shaking off the effects
of the gas faster than their companions.

When B'Elanna was awake enough to be moved to Seven's nearby and newly
vacant chair, Tom stepped towards the empty space in front of the
serving area.  "If I may have everyone's attention, please."

Everyone quickly noticed Paris or heard his voice and shushed each
other.  All eyes in the crowded room were focused on the only one who
seemed to know why they were there and what was going on.

"I thank you for your patience and ask for a little more while I
explain.  All of you have been exposed to myzine gas.  It is used as
an anaesthetic.  Some of you may be experiencing a mild headache or
nausea. Mild is okay and it will pass within a few minutes.  If these
symptoms get worse or any one develops any others, tell me immediately
and I'll take care of it."

"How did this happen?" the Commander demanded.

Tom looked him straight in the eye.  "I did it."

There was a collective gasp.

"All of you know that Voyager now is within two weeks journey of the
nearest Starbase.  At the end of that time, those of you who came on
board from Chakotay's ship are going to be facing Starfleet and no
amount of good reports from Captain Janeway is going to make Starfleet
totally forget about the fact you were Maquis.  At the very least you
will be permitted to remain in Starfleet with a formal note made in
your records about your Maquis past.  I doubt there would be much
chance of a real promotion, but perhaps.  At the very most, definite
prison sentences.  The only good thing about war with the Dominion and
the Cardassians is that there is no chance of you being handed over to
them.  For the moment anyway.  But one day the war will be over and
Cardassians have long memories."  He resisted the urge to flinch as
Camet and his fellow Cardassians growled in agreement.  "I don't think
anyone in this room other than Seven and Neelix need to be told how
they treat their prisoners."

The eyes of practically everyone, except the two previously
acknowledged, dropped.  A few people even cringed, the memories of
their own experiences with the enemy or those of someone they had
known coming back to them.

"So this is where you have to make a choice." Tom continued. "Will you
take your chances with Starfleet being lenient and once the war is
over the Cardassians not being interested in extraditing anyone who
has been out of the quadrant for almost five years.  Or, there is
choice number two. Those who decide they don't wish to gamble on
Starfleet can leave Voyager."

"How?" an ensign from Astrometrics wondered.  "The nearest Starbase is
two weeks away so we can't just beam off the ship."

"Yeah," someone from the other side of the room chimed in, "and there
are no habitable planets in the near vicinity."

"And we can't take some of the shuttles without their warp trails
leading them straight to us." a crewwoman from shuttle maintenance
added.

"I have a plan which will work," Tom assured everyone, "but I won't go
into it now.  For now all of you need to concentrate on deciding what
your choice will be.  Do you leave Voyager or not."

He scanned their faces.  "I have done my best to include the
significant other of Maquis so you can make this choice together.  If
I have missed anyone, please inform after I've finished so I can
rectify the situation.  The ship's grapevine is only so accurate about
who's with whom this week or whatever. Trust me, I know that fact
intimately."  His smile was somewhat off centre.

"What about Seven and myself, Tom?" Neelix asked.  "We're not Maquis
or romantically involved with any of them."

"No, but I wanted to give you the same chance the others were getting.
I can't predict the type of reception you will receive, Neelix,
probably not anything untoward though.  You will be the only Talaxian
in the entire Alpha Quadrant.  Your knowledge of your home region of
space will be invaluable to future exploration of the Delta Quadrant
so you most likely will be treated well."

He turned to Seven.  "You, on the other hand, won't.  If you think the
reception you have received from some on Voyager has been cold or
hostile, it will pale in comparison to what awaits you. Physically,
you are more human than Borg now and mentally you are making great
strides in re-assimilating to humanity, but that won't matter to those
who lost family to the attempted Borg invasion of the Alpha Quadrant.
Despite your progress, you will be seen as Borg first and foremost.
You will have to decide if you can withstand that hostility or worse.
Some people may attempt to seek their revenge on the Borg by going
after you.  The Captain and Starfleet might not be able to protect you
from them."

Seven stiffened.  "You think I might be murdered."

"Or imprisoned.  Or sent to a facility to study you as a specimen. Or
nothing bad could happen.  You still deserve the same opportunity to
consider your fate as the others, Seven."

"You are aware this is mutiny, Lieutenant?" Seven asked him.

Tom considered this for a split second then shook his head. "No,
Seven.  It would be mutiny if I were proposing we commandeer Voyager
and make off with her.  I merely am making an unscheduled stop for an
unscheduled departure that's all.  The ship will never leave the
Captain's command.  Not really."

"You are justifying your actions through a technicality."

"Yes." he answered simply.

"And what if one of the people in this room decides to do their duty
and stop you?"

"That was a risk I was willing to take, but as you can see-" he
gestured to the assembly quietly listening and watching them- "No one
has done that, just as I figured they wouldn't.  This crew is what the
Captain calls it - a family.  I was betting on all the 'siblings'
having enough respect for one another to permit each other the freedom
to choose their fate.  This is not about disrespect for the Captain or
Starfleet or the Federation or duty.  This is about the rights to
individual freedom and personal safety, two things the Captain and
Starfleet and the Federation and duty are very much about."

He made a gesture of conciliation.  "Yes, strictly speaking this is
against the rules.  And, strictly speaking, since part of Voyager's
original mission was to capture any Maquis they could as well as
recover Tuvok, then the Starfleet crewmembers who are here should be
doing their best to prevent anyone from leaving. But that mission flew
out the proverbial window the moment the two crews became one.  I
don't think you'll find anyone in this room who would attempt to force
anyone to remain here against their will."

To that, Seven had no response.  Even if she did not understand the
others' behaviour, she was aware that this crew's loyalty to one
another was beyond question.

Tom addressed the others.  "You have 30 minutes.  If you are staying
on Voyager, be in Holodeck Three by that time.  The computer will make
a general announcement when the time is up. If you are going, go to
your quarters and begin packing.  Only the essentials. You all know
the drill. When I have finished talking with those who wish to remain,
I will contact you with the next step.  All of you may go anywhere you
wish to think this over as long as you refrain from touching any of
the rest of the crew. I've checked them all.  They're all fine.  Don't
worry about them.  If I haven't administered the antidote to the
myzine within four hours, it will wear off naturally. As for the ship,
she's all stop and there's nothing to worry about."

He paused for a moment.  "I don't think I need to remind anyone that
everyone here is an adult with right to decide his or her own future.
No one will look down on anyone for choosing to go or to stay.  If you
don't agree with what I'm trying to do here or if you don't agree with
someone's decision to go, keep it to yourself.  Don't try to influence
their decision.  Agreed?"

The assembly nodded.

"Good.  Computer, run programme Paris Clock."

"Paris Clock running."

"I'll see all of you in thirty minutes."

Stepping back to indicate he had finished, he watched as they filed
out in ones, twos or small groups.  No one came to him to inform him
he had missed someone.  He briefly enjoyed feeling of relief at having
gotten something right when another feeling overtook him - the feeling
of Chakotay grabbing his arm and pulling him behind the serving
counter and into the forekitchen. Tom could sense B'Elanna watching
them, trying to decide if she should follow or not.  For the moment,
Tom ignored her.

"Do you honestly think whatever scheme you've hatched up is going to
work?" the Commander demanded incredulously.

"Yes." Tom answered simply.  "I have run the simulations for weeks now
and it will work."  With a jerk of his head, he indicated those who
had not left for other parts of the ship to talk alone. "Even if
everyone of them decides to go or only one of them, this will work.
The plan is flawless."

"You've been working on this for weeks?"

"Yes."

A thoughtful expression crossed Chakotay's face.  "Like eight weeks?"

Tom's eyes narrowed.  "How did you know that?"

Chakotay gathered his thoughts and could not meet Tom's suspicious
gaze.  "You've been acting strangely for that long."

As the Commander rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the group
still in the room beyond them, Tom's eyes narrowed even further. He
was about to ask what was going on in Chakotay's head when the other
man began to talk.

"So, you've spent two months planning this."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why do this?"

"Yes."

"Because of the reasons I stated.  None of you asked for this and you
can't be sure what lies in store for you if you stay.  You need the
opportunity to make up your minds before it's too late to go."

"So you decided to give us that chance."

"I am the only one who could."

That got the Commander looking at him again.  "Why only you?"

"Who else could help you?  The Captain?  Tuvok?  Any of the rest of
the Starfleet crew?"  He shook his head.  "No matter how much they
would like to, they can't.  They'd be sacrificing their careers.
Imagine what that would do to their families.  After so long of
thinking them dead, to have them back, alive and well, only to be
taken away from them again, to be court-martialled and maybe
imprisoned.  Yes, it is not as bad as their being thought dead or so
far away in the Delta Quadrant, but they'd still be separated.  There
are visiting hours at most facilities, but its not the same as being
there, in their home, with their family, free to go wherever,
whenever, and with whomever they choose."

"But to do this...."

"Chakotay, I'm the only one with nothing to lose.  They can't
court-martial me again.  I'm not Starfleet and haven't been for years.
I came on Voyager as an observer."  He gestured to his uniform.  "I
only wore this when I came onboard was because they felt it would
cause fewer questions than if I wore civvies -" He laughed darkly.
"-Or my official prison garb."  He touched the Lt. jg pips on his
collar.  "I only wear these because the Captain needed an officer at
the helm and gave me a field commission.  It's not real.  Starfleet
Command would have to approve my returning to the 'Fleet and the
reinstatement of my commission.  I don't see a snowball's chance on
Vulcan of that happening."

"Tom-"

He cut the Commander off.  "None of that matters anymore, Chakotay.
What matters is what all of you want to do now."  He laid a hand on
Chakotay's shoulder.  "I can wake her if you honestly want me to.  I
don't know how strong your relationship is, but she might surprise you
and want to come with you if you wish to go."

As the older man did not ask the identity of the "she", Tom took that
as an indication they were on the same wavelength.

B'Elanna, apparently unwilling to wait any longer, appeared at Tom's
side.  Chakotay's reaction to her arrival clearly was one of
gratitude.

"I'll leave you two to talk." Chakotay told them as he hurried from
the kitchen.

"Tom, tell me you aren't serious about all this." B'Elanna implored.

"I am, B'Elanna."

"I see."  She straightened her shoulders and looked up at him. "So,
what are we going to do?"        Tom cupped her jaw, his thumb
caressing her cheek.  "You are going to decide what you want to do."

"Me?  What about us?  We should decide together."

Drawing her into his embrace, Tom kissed her gently on the mouth then
laid his lips beside her ear.  "You know that if nothing prevented me
I'd follow you wherever you went." he whispered, making as close to a
verbal declaration of his love as he ever had made so far.

"Stray puppy." she whispered back.  "Show you a little affection and
you're mine for life."

His lips curved into a slight smile that faded back into  seriousness.
"You have to decide where you want to be, what will  make you happy."

"What about what you want?  What about us?"

"Forget about trying to conform what you want to what you think I'd
want.  You decide what you want and I'll be happy."

She turned her face into this neck.  He could tell this simple
statement had brought his strong, half-Klingon mate near to tears.

"Promise me you'll do that, B'Elanna." he murmured insistently.
"Promise me you'll think about only what you want and make your
decision accordingly."  When she did not answer, he tightened his
arms.  "Promise me."

"I promise." she finally whispered so softly he almost did not hear
it.

"Good."  He kissed her on the side of her exposed neck then stepped
away.  "You need to think and I have some thing to take care of.  I'll
see you in thirty minutes."

"Tom?"  Her teary voice stopped him before he could get more than a
metre away.  "You're not doing this because of me, are you?" she asked
when he looked at her.  "Because I once told you I didn't know if I
could handle prison?"

He reached across the space separating them and touched her cheek with
his fingertips.  "Partly, yes.  I couldn't stand the idea of you in
prison."  He grinned mischievously.  "And with your... issues with
authority, I don't think the prison could stand it either."  The grin
faded.  "Mostly because the others, though.  Like I told Chakotay,
they deserve a chance.  I know first-hand how Starfleet treats
traitors.  Even with them now being against the Cardassians in this
war, the old saying 'The enemy of my enemy must be my friend' won't
mean much once the war's over, if it means anything right now."

She smiled.  "You're trying to redeem yourself."

One of his eyebrows rose a la Tuvok.

"The Maquis.  It still hurts you that you were caught on your first
mission for them.  This is your way of making it up to everyone."

He merely shrugged and left the Mess Hall.

---

It was so strange for him to be walking through the corridors of
Voyager and seeing crewmembers lying on the decks, unconscious, yet
not doing a thing about it.  He did it all the same, however, until he
reached his quarters.  Inside, he withdrew a small, hard-sided case
from the back of a drawer in his sleeping area.  Opening the case, he
tipped two padds onto the bed.  After giving the contents of each a
quick once over, he added them to the padd with the list of names and
the hypospray in the medkit bag still slung across his chest.  As he
did he momentarily was mesmerized by hypospray.

Abruptly, he shook himself.  That was for later.  Right now he had
things to do.

"Paris to Doctor."

"Is the Captain done her meeting?" came the eager response over his
commbadge

"No, not yet."

The tone flattened.  "Then there is an emergency you cannot handle."

"No.  The maintenance teams have discovered a problem with the
Holodecks."

"Everything seems fine here."

"It's with the controls.  Until the problem is solved, you'll have to
stay where you are."

"What exactly did Engineering say was the problem?"

"There wasn't time for specifics.  Just that the doors weren't
responding to commands and there was a problem with communications.  I
can call you, but you can't call me.  You'll have to stay where you
are."

"Well, how soon will it be fixed?"

"Most everyone from Engineering is occupied with something else at the
moment."  That much at least was true, Tom thought, as quite a few of
them were trying to decide whether to stay or leave.  "It will be as
soon as possible though.  Sorry, Doc. Paris out."

Sitting heavily on the bed, Tom massaged his temples.  He hated lying,
even if it were all for a good cause.  The Doctor had to be kept
locked up for the time being.  Hologram or not, the EMH was a
Starfleet Officer.  Tom did not want to find out how he would react to
what currently was happening onboard.  He could not risk the Doctor
stopping him from doing what he had to do.

He sighed.  If only there was some way the Doc and his family could go
as well, he thought yet again.  Over the past two months, he had
agonised over this dilemma as often as he had over the Holo-family's
case.  After all of that worry, he still lacked a solution.  No matter
how long or hard he thought, he could not think of a plan which did
not cancel itself out at some step of the way.

How would they leave Voyager?  The mobile emitter might have been the
answer, but it was designed for only one hologram at a time. Who would
go and who would stay?  The entire idea was for them to be able to
stay together.  And what if the emitter needed repair?  Only the
engineers on Voyager understood the emitter and then it was only the
basics.  Some of its technology still was a mystery to them.

So the mobile emitter was out.

What if the programmes for the EMH and his family were downloaded into
his back up module or a small memory core like that of a shuttle?  If
anything happened either during the transfer or the trip to their
destination, they would be risking losing them.  But there was a
chance of success.

Plan okay so far.

What would their destination be?  Being holograms their universe
necessarily was confined to a Holodeck.  The problem was where.
Holodecks need some place to be.  Since they were trying to evade
Starfleet, the site would have to be out of the way and secret. Easier
said than done, but do-able.

A pre-existing Holodeck would be good, but if it existed it probably
was earmarked for public use.  A private one for them alone would be
best. But how would they pay for the cost of constructing and
maintaining the Holodeck?  There was no way other than the Doc going
into private medical practice. Potential patients would have to know
where to find him. Eventually Starfleet would hear about the hologram
practising medicine and where and Starfleet would know who the
hologram was and come to reclaim him.  All would have been for
nothing.

What about the Base?  The Holodeck there would do. Whomever left
Voyager could transfer the programmes to it once they arrived there.
But the same problem would arise.  The Doc had become accustomed to
socializing the others.  He craved it the way most other species did.
Eventually he would become bored in the holographic Universe and yearn
to interact with the real one.  When he finally gave in to that
desire, he would either have to leave or invite people to him.  Then
word would get out and Starfleet would swoop in and get them.  Only
quite a few might die in their attempts to breech the Base's natural
and artificial defences.

No, there was no way for them to leave Voyager.

"Computer, time remaining?" he sighed.

"Twelve minutes, fifty six seconds."

"Beam me to the location of canister alpha."

---

With no one awake to monitor the use of the transporters, he now could
make liberal use of the site to site function to uninstall the myzine
gas canisters.  In less than a quarter of the time he had taken to
install them, he disconnected each one then sent them to Sickbay. Once
that was finished, he used the transporter one last time to beam
himself to the corridor outside Holodeck Three to see how many of the
seventy-one had decided to stay.

He was taken aback when he saw there were only seven missing from the
Holodeck.  As the Computer announced the end of the thirty minutes,
Tom rechecked the names on his padd against those listed on the
display outside of the Holodeck.  The count stubbornly remained the
same.  Only seven were leaving and Chakotay and B'Elanna were two of
them.

His chest tightened at the absence of his beloved's name amongst the
list of those inside.  Part of him had hoped she might chose to
remain. She and Harry were going to need each other soon.  He closed
his eyes and sighed.  Too soon, he thought.  All along in planning
this, he had been thinking of some point in the future, not now, not
yet.  But it was now and he had no choice.  She would have Chakotay
and Harry would have his family. They would help them survive what was
to come.

After tucking the padd back into the bag, he removed an  access panel.
Quickly, he detached the connections which  permitted the Holodeck to
access systems beyond those of the  Holodeck.  Leaving the panel
leaning against the corridor wall  and the parts he had removed in a
carefully arranged pile next  to it, he entered the Holodeck.

The moment he walked down the Resort steps to the main terrace where
everyone was milling about, they gave him their full attention.

"As the thirty minutes are up, I am assuming everyone is here and
those who are here are positive they wish to stay."

There was a general murmur of assent.

"Fine.  Seven?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"When was the last time you regenerated?"

"Nine point three hours ago."

"Okay.  You'll be alright here for some time then."

"For some time?"

"Yes."  He turned to everyone.  "I know all of you came here in good
faith, and I appreciate that, however I am going to ask your
indulgence for a little longer, approximately ninety minutes longer. I
know it's asking a lot for you to remain here for that long, but I
would not be doing so if it were not necessary.  I hate to phrase it
this way, but those who are leaving cannot risk any of you suddenly
having an attack of duty and attempting to stop them.  Therefore, I'm
going to secure the Holodeck to keep all of you in here."

There was a general shout of disagreement.

He held up a hand to calm them.  "I know you don't like that idea, but
it will only be for ninety minutes and it is necessary, not only for
the others, but for all of you as well. Fake logs for the internal and
external sensors will be substituted to cover up what will soon
happen. When the rest of the crew wakes, they are going to want to
know what happened, where the others are, and how they left. They will
want to statements from everyone to confirm what the logs say.  I
don't want to put any of you in the position of having to lie about
what happened.  I could offer to remove the memories of the last
thirty some odd minutes from your memories, but I won't.  I doubt any
of you want me messing about in your minds, seeing as I'm not the Doc.
My reassuring you I know what I'd be doing and had done it before,
successfully, wouldn't mean much."

"Um, Tom," Neelix interrupted, "where *is* the Doctor?"

"Confined to Holodeck One." he admitted, frowning.  "I couldn't come
up with a way for him and his family to leave Voyager and have any
expectation of a life."  Tom looked hopefully at the others.  "But if
any of you can think of something, I am all ears.  I don't know if
he'd agree, but he is aware of his rather precarious position now that
this ship has a realistic expectation of returning home.  He and his
family might just choose to go.  If there is a way."

There was silence and Tom tried to hide his disappointment. He was not
entirely successful.

"He is in Holodeck One with his family." he told them.  "I have told
him there is a malfunction and he cannot leave for the time being.
Once this is all over he automatically will be returned to Sickbay and
the computer is programmed to inform him of the crew's medical status
and why."

"The Computer will?"

"Yes."

"Then you're leaving too."

Tom looked away momentarily.  "I won't be here, no." he told him.

The Talaxian immediately rushed up and gave him a bear hug. "I shall
miss you, Tom."

He very briefly permitted himself to return the embrace. Stepping back
from his friend, Tom stiffly nodded to the others then walked out into
the corridor.

"Compu-" Tom's voice cracked he was so overwhelmed with emotion. He
cleared his throat.  "Computer, run programme Paris Padlock on
Holodeck Three."

"Paris Padlock Three running."

Tom checked the Holodeck display to ensure the locks were in place as
the Padlock secured the doors and blocked communications to and from
the Holodeck.  Everything was in order.

"Paris to B'Elanna, Chakotay, Hydrat, Moi, Oliva, Redstone, and Vavin.
Meet me in the Main Shuttle Bay with your belongings. Paris out."

For a moment, he leaned against the corridor wall.  All of a sudden he
was so tired, he realized.  All these weeks of planning almost were
over and now, with the end in sight, he wondered if it would be of any
use to the seven who were going. What kind of life were they going to
have?  The Maquis were no more so there would be no returning to them.
Not that it would have been easily to do so anyway.  They had spent
nearly five years walking, talking and acting as Starfleet.  If they
could have found their way back into their old lives, they'd never
have been trusted.  They would have been suspected Starfleet spies.
Now the Maquis were finished and there was a new war, with new players
at the table to join the old.  Would they revert to their old ways of
being rebels?  Would they just include the Dominion in their list of
accepted targets?  Or would they settle down somewhere out of the way
and try to begin new lives?

That was for them to decide, he thought, fingering the special
hypospray in his bag.  He had his own plans for the future to worry
about. He straightened and strode off down the corridor.

---

When he entered the shuttle bay, he saw all seven were present and
standing with their possessions in front of the large, long distance
shuttle, Argo.  B'Elanna looked as though she wished to say something
to him, but Chakotay's hand on her shoulder forestalled her.

Other than their names and Maquis affiliation, Tom knew little about
the others.  Hydrat, Moi, Oliva, Redstone, and Vavin.  None were big
fans of Tom Paris, the Maquis traitor.  Yet there they stood.
Obviously whatever they had done in the past had made them so
desperate to evade Starfleet that the idea of placing their trust in
his orchestrating their escape was viewed to be the lesser of two
evils.

"If you'll join me over here at this console?  Computer, access
Holodeck programmes.  Run programme Paris The Great Escape Simulation
with variation One Red Herring, One De-boned, Stage One on this
console."

"Acknowledged."

"The first thing that happens," he told them, "is a faked log for the
external sensors is spliced into the real ones to show the following."

As they watched, the display showed two shuttles leaving the Main
shuttle bay.

"The first shuttle is yours.  The other is unoccupied and on
autopilot." Tom explained.

Ninety seconds after it had exited the bay, the first shuttle and
Voyager both leapt to warp.  At the same instant a phaser beam from
Voyager caused the unmanned shuttle to explode into fragments of less
than a decimetre square in size.  Everyone gasped.

"When triggered by a phaser beam, the explosive which will be used to
blow the shuttle has an interesting effect on warp trails - it
scatters the warp particles making it extremely difficult to trace the
trails for some distance from the epicentre of the explosion.  By the
time a ship's scanners will be able to detect the shuttle's trail
you'll be far enough into regularly travelled space that it will be
exceedingly difficult to pick your trail from all the others."

"But why blow the shuttle?" Chakotay asked.  "Why not just detonate
his explosive of yours in open space?"

"There needs to be some debris for any investigation to discover.
Given the size of that debris they won't be able to tell how many
shuttles exploded, but- Computer, run Stage Two - the logs for the
external sensors will tell them this is what happened."

The simulation repeated, this time one of the shuttles collided with
the other and the pair exploded as Voyager leapt to warp.

"The explanation for it will be pilot error." he said in a monotone.
"Naturally, I will be the responsible pilot."

"Tom, they won't believe it." B'Elanna insisted, horrified.

"Yes, they will.  The internal sensors will show me as suffering from
lingering side effects from Steth's occupation of my body.  My
personal log will be altered to reflect me hiding the effects so I
wouldn't be removed from the helm."

"So then what happens?" Oliva demanded.

"Computer, Stage Three."

The display changed to show a star chart of the surrounding region of
space.  The site of the explosion was marked with a sizable crimson
splash.  The path of Voyager to the nearest Starbase was a lavender
line in one direction.  The path of the surviving shuttle was a pale
blue line in another.  Both lines lead into Federation Space though
the blue one was a long a less travelled route.

"Stage Four."

The display zoomed in on the shuttle's journey.  Finally it stopped at
a tiny moon in a small, uninhabited system identified only as System
476254.

"A thousand years ago, this system supported a thriving population,
but the planets are uninhabitable now.  The only people who come there
are the occasional archaeologists who think there might be just one
more significant find to be coaxed out of the ground."  He smiled
ironically. "They'd find quite the treasure if they knew just where to
look and how to *see* what it was that they were looking at."

Before anyone could ask what that cryptic comment meant, the shuttle
on the display approached a moon's northern pole and deliberately
began to nosedive.  The jagged peaks of mountains and deep valleys of
the surface came into sharp focus as the ship rushed towards it.  Just
as they all thought a crash was inevitable, the ship veered away at a
thirty degree angle to the ground and slipped neatly into a cave
otherwise hidden by the outcropping of rocky cliffs which surrounded
it on three sides. The craft flew on for thirty seconds in total
darkness before motion sensitive lights snapped on.  With the
illumination they saw the shuttle was in a huge cavern which looked
large enough to hold Voyager.  There it landed.

"There is no atmosphere on the moon but if someone puts on an EVA suit
they can go out to establish one for the cavern."

A figure in an EVA suit was beamed from the shuttle to an innocent
outcropping of rocks a few metres away.  The person triggered what
proved to be a hologram of rocks to disappear and pressed a button.
Two enormous doors slid into place and the cavern was sealed. Moments
later a light on the panel flashed from red to green.  The EVA suited
figure tripped a door in the cavern wall and walked through then the
display went black.

Tom turned to the group.  "An artificial atmosphere has been created
so EVA suit can be removed.  Beyond the cavern, there are living
quarters, a science lab, medical bay, you name it.  There are enough
rations in storage to sustain all of you for three months if the
replicators go off-line.  All of you can stay there quite comfortably
until you decide where you're going next."

"What is that place?" Hydrat asked, pushing her too long brown bangs
out of her eyes.

"It's a hiding place of mine.  I haven't used it in years, but I know
it'll still be there.  In the entire system, there isn't a single
resource left that is of interest to anyone.  The previous inhabitants
picked her clean before they died out. Other than for archaeologists,
there is no appeal to the system. For obvious reasons, the chances
anyone has stumbled across the Base are slim.  You'll be safe there."

"You keep saying you," Redstone remarked, looking at him carefully,
"why?"

"Because I won't be with you."

B'Elanna looked like someone had punched her in the midsection.

"There is something I have to do here before I can leave."

"Then do it now." the half-Klingon urged him.

"I can't.  Not until everyone is gone."

"But then you'll come."

He stroked her cheek.  "Then I'll be gone, yes."

She smiled slightly and his hand dropped as he looked at the others.

"The Argo is the biggest of all the available shuttles so-"

"The Montgomery is the biggest." Moi interjected in her superior tone.

"Yes, but at the moment it's in about fourteen pieces in Shuttle Bay
Two as shuttle maintenance has it in mid-overhaul. The Argo is the
next best thing *and* it has just finished being serviced so it should
be in perfect condition.  The Marcus will be the one sacrificed.  It's
never handled quite right anyway. It'll be no great loss."

"Why not just use some parts and blow them up?" the ever-practical
Vavin asked.  "Why blow an entire shuttle?"

"Two reasons.  One, for safety's sake, until the time of detonation,
the explosive is not a single compound.  It is four harmless
components that must be kept a very specific distance from one
another.  Too close and they will cause a premature explosion. Too far
and they'll never explode. It will all be timed so that point zero
zero nine four seconds before the phaser beam will hit, a small charge
will blow the components from their mounts and towards a central point
where they'll explode."

"So what's that got to do with the shuttle?"

"The shuttle is an enclosed space.  I can mount the components in
precisely the correct locations.  With scraps we'd have to take the
time to phaserweld them together to hold them in place when they were
launched. And I wouldn't have any control over their trajectory like I
will with the Marcus.  If the explosion didn't happen in exactly the
right place at exactly the right time, the explosion could damage
Voyager or the Argo."

Oliva's snort indicated his thoughts- probably the same ones that were
going through Redstone, Moi, Hydrat, and Vavin's heads. Tom Paris,
self-professed best-damned pilot in the Galaxy, telling them a
manoeuvre was too difficult.  Tom ignored it.

"The second reason a shuttle is better is because very careful records
are kept of what supplies are on board.  They'd know there wouldn't be
enough room in the shuttle for all of you, your things, the supplies
you're going to take with you, *and* some spare shuttle parts.
Sacrificing a shuttle is the only way."

"Where'd you get this explosive?" Redstone inquired suspiciously in
his best security officer voice.

"I don't have it yet.  I'll replicate the components in a few
minutes."

Hydrat's eyes bulged.  "You're going to wander around Voyager with
them?"

"It is dangerous only when all four of them are together. I'll
replicate three of them, mount them on the Marcus then do the fourth."

"Where'd you get this... recipe anyway?" Redstone questioned.

"That's not important.  What is important is it works."

"You've done this before?"

"Yes.  Right now we have to get everything you'll need together and
get you out of here as soon as possible.  You can't still be here when
the myzine begins to wear off and the others wake.  Has everyone
finished packing?"

They all nodded.

"Fine."  He withdrew a padd from his bag.  "Chakotay, you're the best
pilot here so I'll give you this."  He handed him the padd. "I will
pre-programmed the entire flight path into the shuttle but you may
wish to review it in case something happens and you have to take her
off of autopilot and do this yourself. Best review it now while I'm
still available to answer any questions."

"Okay."

"Oliva, you help Neelix in the kitchen, right?"

He nodded.

"If you will take Hydrat and Vavin with you to raid Neelix's stores
for supplies.  You'll need enough for eighteen days."

"Why can't we just have replicator meals?"

"If something happens to the replicator, you'll be stuck with
emergency rations."

There was no need to say any more.  Everyone present had been forced
to endure the less than appetising rations before and were reluctant
to do so again if possible.

"B'Elanna, Redstone, Moi, if you will go to the Marcus? It's in
Shuttle Bay Two.  Strip her of anything you think you could salvage.
Medkit.  Hand weapons.  The lot.  Site to site transport them here
then stow them on the Argo."

Only B'Elanna and Chakotay moved.  The five near strangers stayed put,
regarding him warily.

"You don't have to worry." Tom assured them, guessing that distrust in
him was the reason for their immobility.  "I'm not going to suddenly
beam all of you into the brig and turn you all into to Starfleet or
something. As the instigator of all this, I'd be the one the charges
would stick to anyway.  Understood? Fine, I'll see all of you back
here when you're done then."

Nodding begrudgingly, all except for B'Elanna and Chakotay departed.
Chakotay looked from one to the other.

"Could you give us a minute, Chakotay?" Tom asked.

Less than willingly, he announced he was going into the Argo to review
the padd and check the shuttle's supplies.

"Tom?" B'Elanna called softly once they were alone.  "You're not angry
are you?  About my choosing to go?"

Gently, he touched her face with the pads of his fingers. "No,
B'Elanna, I'm not angry.  I told you to choose what was best for you
and you did."

"If you want to stay, it's not too late to-"

He covered her lips with his own.  So thorough was the kiss, she had
to cling to him to hold herself upright when he broke the kiss and
buried his face in the hair at her neck.  "I love you." He whispered
so softly that she almost missed it.  "I love you more than you'll
ever understand."

"I love you, too." she murmured back, the roughness in her voice
revealing she was fighting back tears for the nth time that day.

Trying to imprint the unique scent and feel of this woman on his
memory forever, Tom inhaled deeply and held her to him.  He tried to
absorb every detail to remind himself that this was a big part of the
reason he was going to do what he had planned. This precious creature
in his arms had to be saved from The Protectors' wrath.

Feeling himself seconds away from tears, he pulled back.  He kissed
her lightly on the jaw where he always had planned one day to place
his mark when they both were ready to move on to the next in their
relationship.  She seemed to understand the significance of this as
she reached up and kissed the spot on his jaw where she had bitten him
seemingly so long ago.

The two parted and she left the shuttle bay.

Tom's hands clenched at his sides as he fought to hold the tears
inside.  He could do this.  He *had* to do this.  He could not break
down now or he would not be able to follow this through to the bitter
end.  He had to be strong for her.  For all of them.

The gentle hand on his shoulder nearly was his undoing.

"Tom."

His posture straightened but his gaze never left the doors to the
corridor.  "I need you to promise me something, Chakotay." he said in
a monotone.  "I need you to promise me you'll look after B'Elanna for
me."

The older man moved around to the younger's side and scrutinized his
features.  "You're not coming at all, are you?"

"No."

The hand dropped.

"Starfleet, the Maquis, and my family aren't the only ones who wish I
would disappear from the face of the universe.  There are a couple of
others I could name who won't stop until they have me or I'm dead."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That's for me to worry about.  You're concern is the six of them."
Without making eye contact, he handed him the last of the padds from
his bag.  "This one is for B'Elanna.  Don't give it to her until you
reach the Base."

"She is going to be devastated."

"I know, but it has to be this way."

"I honestly was beginning to think you loved her."

Tom's eyes snapped to the older man's, tears glistening in their blue
depths.  "Don't ever presume to think you know how I feel about her."
he rasped.  "I am doing this for her- for everyone on this ship."

"Tom-"

"This is the only way to keep her - everyone safe."

"Tom, there's always another option."

"Not this time.  The computer and I have spent two months evaluating
this from every angle.  This is the only one which will work."

"But-"

He gestured to the padd.  "Have you finished reviewing the
information."

Chakotay refused to be side tracked.  "What is it that you have to
stay behind to do?  Where are you going if not with us?"

"I told you that's none of your concern, Chakotay.  Just let me worry
about it.  Do you have any questions about the route?"

"I don't have any." he said, abandoning the line of questioning with
obvious reluctance.  "You've covered everything."

"And the instructions about the Base?  The areas that are off limits
for your own safety and the codes for accessing everywhere else?"

"I understand."

"Fine."  Near the belongings of the others, the first of the salvage
from the Marcus materialized.  "Well, they certainly are quick.  You
start loading the Argo.  I'll pre-programme the flight plan then go
replicate the explosive's components.  Excuse me."

---

Within half an hour the Argo and an armed Marcus were ready to leave.
While the other five uttered only a terse thank you, Chakotay gave Tom
an awkward hug and said nothing.  He herded all except B'Elanna into
the shuttle to give the couple a moment alone.

B'Elanna opened her mouth to speak, but his mouth on hers silenced her
before she could utter a syllable.  When she tried to wrap her arms
around his neck, he caught her hands in his. Lifting his head from
hers, he pressed a kiss to each palm and curled each hand into a fist
as if to hold the kisses there. With a tender smile, he gave her a
gentle nudge towards the shuttle door.  He turned on his heel and
exited the shuttle bay immediately for fear he would forget everything
and board the shuttle to be with her.

He hurried to the Bridge where he planned to control everything that
was about to happen.  He could just as easily have done it from
anywhere on the ship, but he wanted to be on the Bridge for some
reason.  Even though what he was doing was mutinous, no matter how he
had justified it to Seven, he still wanted to stand one last time on
the Bridge, the site, in his mind at least, of Tom Paris's redemption.
A twisted smile crossed his lips.  He was bringing everything full
circle.  The site of his redemption would be the site of his descent
back to what he had been when he came on board - nothing but a
worthless criminal.  At least this time there would not be prison in
his future.

"Paris to Argo.  Here we go.  Computer, run programme Paris The Great
Escape, One Red-herring, One De-boned, Stage One. Display on Main
Viewer."

On the screen he saw the shuttle bay doors open and two shuttles
powering up to leave.

Suddenly two things happened which should not have.  The Bridge
transformed into the interior of a Holodeck and he heard the Captain's
voice over his commbadge

"Tom, stop your Escape programme."

Tom shook his head.  What in the Seven Hells are you up to now, Camet.

He could feel Camet's confusion mirroring his own.

"Tom, please!"

Automatically he obeyed the urgency in her voice. "Computer, code
Epsilon Delta One Clear for Paris The Great Escape programme."

"Chakotay to Janeway."

"Go ahead." The Captain invited.

"The Marcus and Argo are under control, Captain.  Phaser banks are
powering down."

"Thank you."

"Bridge out."

"Tom," the Captain called, "Voyager's is dead in the proverbial water.
Release your commands."

Dazed, Tom did.  "Computer, code Epsilon Delta One Clear for all Paris
programmes currently running."

"Acknowledged." The female voice responded.

---

When they entered Holodeck Three ten seconds later and she finally saw
Tom, Kathryn knew she never had seen on anyone's face an expression
akin to the one currently on her Chief Helmsman's.  It was shock and
confusion and something else she was tempted to identify as despair or
desolation.  The look of professionalism she so carefully had schooled
her features to reflect nearly slipped.  For the first time she was
seeing Tom Paris sans mask and it was breaking her heart.

This had seemed like such a good idea when they had formulated it in
her quarters two nights ago.  Send him down to the planet on some
pretext then later beam him up, not to the real Transporter Room, but
to a simulated one on the Holodeck. After he and the simulated Voyager
had "returned to the Alpha Quadrant" and he had realized his future
was not necessarily as bleak as he thought, they would reveal the hoax
and talk about his insecurities which now would be out in the open.

And look how that plan had blown up in all their faces, she inwardly
moaned.  Crewmembers being beamed all over the ship. Losing control of
Voyager.  Nearly losing two shuttles.  Five people briefly trapped in
Holodeck One before someone realized they were there and beamed them
out. But most importantly, Tom Paris committing what amounted to
mutiny and she leaving her without the faintest idea what to do about
it.

Tuvok silently at her heels, she entered then stopped a metre from the
stunned and shaken man.

"Wha...?"

"This was all a simulation, Tom," she began.

"Simulation?" he croaked.

"Yes.  None of it was real.  At least not what you were experiencing.
The rest of us weren't so lucky.  Every command you gave the computer
carried out.  The only commands we were able to override were for the
releasing of the myzine gas and, after a whole lot of work, the
transporters.  Needless to say, I'm not sure who was more surprised,
Seven or those who had been having lunch, when everyone in the Mess
Hall and suddenly appeared in Cargo Bay Two.  Same with those who
suddenly started appearing in Mess Hall.  One rather startled crewman
appeared there only wearing a towel and a smile before we were able to
override the transporter controls and trick the Computer into thinking
it still was transporting people various places."

"Why do this?"

"It was to be your parole test."

"Parole test?"

She nodded slowly.  "Back in the Alpha Quadrant, when you came up for
parole you would have been tested to measure the degree to which your
rehabilitation had succeeded.  This was... the Voyager version." she
told him, quoting Harry's descriptor for their plan.

"Why?"

"We were worried about you, Tom.  We knew your future was on your
mind.  When we planned this two nights ago, we figured things would go
differently.  The idea was to make you see that you had a good future
ahead of you, that the past was over and you were a new man."  She
frowned. "Needless to say, it didn't quite go as we expected."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Your friends."  At his silence she continued and told him exactly who
had been in on the planning.  When she said B'Elanna's name, he looked
like she had phasered him.  "She really didn't want any part of it,
Tom." she explained.  Trying to spare his already bruised feelings,
she left out the fact it was from B'Elanna's account of one of their
private conversations that Tuvok had had the idea for all this.

"But she helped." he asked in a monotone.

"Yes."

"These weren't holocharacters, were they?  They were real."

"Chakotay, B'Elanna, Neelix, and Seven were real, yes.  And Harry,
Tuvok, and myself were at the staff meeting.  You know us too well to
be fooled by anything less than the real thing unless we had spent
weeks perfecting every nuance.  We thought it was simpler to have the
real people play themselves."

"But the rest of the crew weren't here?"

"No.  They were holograms.  We took the chance you weren't close
enough to any of them to notice any inconsistencies."  She guessed at
what was concerning him the most.  "Tom, only the nine of us know what
happened here, and only Tuvok and I know all of it.  The others only
know the parts they were present for."  She broke off as the Paris
mask finally fell back into place.

"So, brig, quarters, rank?"

"I don't understand."

"I am to be confined to the Brig or my quarters or have a reduction in
rank?  Or is it to be all three?"

"Tom, none, I-"

"By your own admission, you are aware of everything which transpired
here.  You know what I did, or rather thought I was doing. Plus I
endangered the crew by my programme taking control of the ship. Had
things continued, one shuttle would have been destroyed and another
would have been lost as it attempted to follow the path it was
programmed to take. The logical punishment -"

"Tom, there won't be any punishment."

That closed his mouth though his eyes were wary.

"Yes, I will have to make a note of this in my log and, yes, it could
be argued that you were wrong by doing what you thought you were
doing, but I understand why you did it.  I share the sentiment, I
really do. Personally, I don't want to think beyond the point of
getting us all home because I know you probably weren't that far off
in your predictions of what will happen." She reached out to him.
"We'll have to come up with a better idea than the one you had here.
One in which no one has to fake their deaths or take blame for
something they did not do."

Tom stepped away from her hand.  "Now what?"

Her hand dropped.  "What do you mean?"

"If I am not be punished, what now?"

"Life goes on.  Though hopefully not as it was.  I would hope you
might be willing to talk about why you've been the way you have for
the past two months."

His look told her his response to her hopes.  "Incidentally, who won
the pool?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Pool?"

"The betting pool.  Over when precisely I would fail."

"Tom, there was no pool.  The only ones who know about what was going
on here are the ones I told you about.  No one else."

"But the rest of the crew are very curious."

"Word has been spread," Tuvok explained, "that, at the Captain's
behest, you and I are involved in writing another of our holonovels.
The odd things which have happened outside of this Holodeck are being
explained as spill over from said holonovel.  The senior staff has
been claiming to be working on the problem."

"Which is not exactly a lie." the Captain added.  "They have been
working on countermanding your programmes, with little success I might
add."

"And when the crew start asking to see this holonovel?"

"They will be told it was abandoned because of the problems it
caused." the Security Chief assured.

"And I thought *I* had thought of everything." he observed in a tone
bordering on sarcastic.

"You were rather thorough in your evaluation and execution of your
plan, Lieutenant.  However, I do not understand your purpose in
remaining behind when the others had left.  What was it did you had to
do?  And what was the purpose of the hypospray you kept with you at
all times."

Tom ignored him for a moment.  He looked at the Captain. "So I am free
to go?"

"Well-"

He looked at Tuvok.  "You like riddles, Tuvok.  See if you can find
the answers for yourself."  With that parting shot, he left the
Holodeck.

---

"Seven." Harry nodded to the occupant of the turbolift as he entered.

There was no response.

Harry frowned.  This was not like her at all.  Introspective was not a
word he ever would have applied to her before now.  Now it was the
only one which fit.

"Seven?"

She blinked and looked at him.  He had seen that particular look
before.  His hard-partying roommate during his first year at the
Academy had looked at him the same way every time he had woken him up.

"May I ask you a question?"

The ensign blinked himself.  The soft, almost tentative tone  of
voice. The asking permission to seek the information she  required,
not bluntly demanding it.  This wasn't Seven at all,  he realized.
Something was wrong.

"Okay." he answered slowly.

"Do you think I'll be in danger when I reach the Alpha Quadrant?"

"Danger?"

"From people wanting revenge on me for what the Borg has done to
them?"

"Maybe.  What's got you thinking about that?  That's a long way in the
future."

"Lt. Paris... In the simulation... He said..."

"Computer, halt turbolift."  As it did so, he turned her to him. Like
the others involved in planning the test, Harry had been kept out of
the loop once he no longer had a part to play in the simulation.
Because of that, he was in the dark about everything that had occurred
after the "staff meeting", but on Seven's behalf, he felt anger
welling up in him over whatever bone-headed remark his best friend had
made.  "What did he say?"

"He said I might be a target for them.  Or that I might become a
specimen in a lab."

"Seven, nothing like that'll happen.  We won't let it."

"You could not protect me constantly.  And he was correct in bring it
to my attention.  I had not considered the possibility of my reception
being less than pleasant until he brought it up."

"He shouldn't have said anything." Harry ground out.

"Yes, he should.  He is correct.  I needed to be prepared for the
potential situation."

"Seven, no one on Voyager is going to let anyone hurt you."

"I cannot be protected all the time."

Harry was scrambling for a way of denying the truth in that statement
when the Commander's voice called them to a meeting in the Bridge
level Conference Room.

"We'll talk about this later."  Even as the promise left his mouth, he
saw her beginning to retreat within herself and the Seven of Nine with
whom they all were more familiar reappeared. Clearly the moment of
weakness was over.  Harry sighed and ordered the turbolift to resume.

---

Kathryn rested her folded arms on the back of her chair in the Senior
Conference Room.  While Tuvok was delivering a concise summary of the
events of the past few hours, she watched B'Elanna.  It was difficult
to tell if the devastated look on her face was because Tom had failed
the test or because Chakotay had told her that, if it all had been
real, she never would have seen Tom again once she and the others had
left the ship.

She glanced at Chakotay.  No, he would not have been so cruel as to
tell her the truth.  Or would he have seen it as cruelty?  In spite of
the truce her First Officer and Helmsman had called with one another,
she knew Chakotay still did not really like Tom, especially not Tom
with B'Elanna. But would he intentionally hurt B'Elanna by telling her
Tom was going to desert her in the future?  Would he ignore Tom's good
intentions, just so he could provoke the young woman into breaking up
with him now to avoid her being dumped later?  Maybe.

Her answer came when Tuvok reached that section of his narrative.
B'Elanna had not known.  Eyes that until then had been focused on the
tabletop leapt to the Vulcan.  Her mouth opened and closed in shock.

"Perhaps Tom wanted to stay." Harry suggested, softly to the shocked
woman in the chair next to him.  All his anger with Tom on Seven's
behalf had evaporated upon hearing the reason for his words to the
former Borg and the noble thing he had tried to do for the Maquis. "He
just couldn't figure out how to tell you or Chakotay that he was going
to stay so he fibbed a little."

Even to Harry's own ears the explanation rang false.

Tuvok obviously agreed.  "I do not think so, Ensign." Tuvok
countered. "You must take into consideration his actions towards  some
of the crew, in particular, the Captain, Naomi Wildman, and  yourself,
and his later insistence Lt. Torres decide on her own  if she was
going or stay.  It is more likely he was telling the  truth and was
leaving later after he had done whatever he had  left undone."

"Any ideas on what this mysterious errand was?" Neelix asked.

The Vulcan ignored the angry glance Harry was sending his way for his
cavalier attitude towards B'Elanna's feelings. "None.  It can be
assumed that it was something which could not be programmed into the
Ship's Computer as the fake sensor logs or any of the other programmes
he had prepared for his plan."  The Security Chief looked at the
Captain. "Obviously Mr. Paris has not been given enough credit for his
programming abilities.  The level of encryption for his programmes was
very high."

"As was obvious towards the end." Chakotay remarked.  "I couldn't
believe it when the Argo and Marcus suddenly launched and we couldn't
call them back.  I'm glad no one was in those shuttle bays or the
shuttles when they launched."

"If Mr. Paris ever chose to take over Voyager again, I doubt we could
stop his plan.  Him, certainly, but not his plans once they were under
way."

Neelix frowned.  "You said you had little problem gaining control of
the programme for the gas canisters?  You made the computer think it
was doing what it was programmed to do.  Why couldn't you do the same
with the other programmes?  Obviously he did the programming for
both."

"That *is* a bit of a mystery, Mr. Neelix.  That programme did not
have the same level of encryption that the following programmes
possessed. One would have expected the opposite - that the programme
to render the crew unconscious would be the most carefully guarded
since it was the most crucial part of his plan. Were anyone to detect
and circumvent it, the remainder of his plan would have fallen to
pieces.  Yet as soon as I heard the file name and that it was in the
Holodeck programme files, it was a simple task to take it over and
trick the computer into thinking it was running and the myzine gas had
been deployed.  It was the other programmes, the ones which gained him
control of the unmanned Voyager which proved impossible to breech."

"Maybe that's the point." Harry interjected.  When he was met with
blank stares he continued.  "Think about it.  Before everyone fell
unconscious, no one would have had any inkling that anything was about
to happen so everyone's guards would be down. There was no need to
protect that programme as heavily as the others.  No one would be
trying to crack it because no one knew it existed or that they had a
reason to want to stop it.  The Doctor says the gas works in seconds.
That's not enough time for anyone to process what was happening once
it began and do something about it."

Nodding in comprehension, Chakotay picked up the thought. "Later on
though, there would be a definite danger of someone trying to stop him
because there would be some of the crew would be awake and know what
was going on."

"Exactly.  If just one of the people he had awoken had decided to stop
him, he would have been in trouble.  The encoding had to be as
difficult to crack as possible."

"It is puzzling," Seven remarked, "that Lt. Paris did not include an
intruder alert in his programmes.  Had he done so he would have bee
informed immediately the moment Lt. Commander Tuvok began tampering
with his programmes."

"It would have given everything away." Neelix agreed.

"Yes, that has puzzled me also." Tuvok admitted as he rose and
approached the computer display opposite the conference table.
"Computer, location of Lt. Paris?"

"Lt. Paris is in his quarters."

"Reroute all communications and computer access to and from his
quarters to the Bridge level Conference Room.  Authorization Tuvok
Beta Pi. Access Holodeck files.  Locate and display Paris programme
Sleep One."

As he entered commands to decode the text which was appearing, a small
United Federation of Planets symbol appeared in the lower left hand
corner of the screen.

"As I suspected.  This is your intruder alert, Seven."

"Something totally routine and easily overlooked." Harry smiled. "Had
anyone else seen it they would have thought it always had been there
and they simply had missed seeing it before.  Only Tom would have
known what it meant."

Chakotay frowned.  "Then it is surprising he missed it."

"Not really," Tuvok denied as the U.F.P. symbol disappeared. "He was
not looking at a computer when I accessed his programme. He was
crawling through a Jefferies tube.  By the time he had returned to
Sickbay I was in control of his programme.  It no longer recognized me
as an intruder."

"Okay, that explains the Sleep programme but why didn't he notice your
trying to access the others?  He used a few different consoles and
terminals.  Even if they were only simulations they still should have
shown the alert."

"As he seemingly thought of every possible scenario.  It is likely
that in the event he was on the Holodeck at the time of an attempted
breech of his programmes, the Holodeck would in some way have shown
him the signal.  I will have to review the recording of the test again
to see if I can figure out how he overlooked it."

The Doctor interrupted for the first time.  "It is quite possible
given his highly emotional state that he did overlook them.  Mr.
Paris's readings suggested he was in a highly agitated state.  His
adrenaline levels spiked frequently throughout the test."

"You tried to tell me something about that at the time, Doctor," the
Captain remembered, "but I was too busy to listen. What was it?"

The EMH tried and failed to disguise his displeasure at the Captain
being "too busy to listen" to his, to his mind, extremely important
observations.  "What I was going to say was that each time his
adrenaline spiked it would maintain that high level for one point
seven seconds then abruptly they would drop off to less than normal. A
lot less than."

"A lot less than?"

"Yes.  It was as though something had siphoned off nearly all of his
adrenaline."

"How did he do it?  Some sort of mind control?  Relaxation exercise?"

"I don't know.  Perhaps.  I will have to investigate that further."

"Speaking of investigations, have you figured out what he was doing to
his medical file and your logs?"

"No.  It is very odd.  Mr. Tuvok has shown me the recording of Mr.
Paris doing something to all of the scans I have taken of him since
the beginning of his crisis with Mr. Chakotay's akoonah yet I look at
them now and I see absolutely no difference.  I know he did something,
at least it looks like he did, but I cannot tell you what."

"Keep looking, Doctor.  I want to know exactly what he did."

"Yes, Captain."

"Have you had any better luck with finding out about this substance he
had in the hypospray?"

"Pure plientis root extract."  His tone told everyone he had told her
the name before but obviously she had not been listening to that
either. "It's a prohibited substance in Federation space except on the
planet Ontlem where it is a native plant and apparently the only place
in the galaxy it will grow.  Anyone caught off of the planet with it
receives an automatic five-year jail sentence.  On Ontlem, it is
immediate execution."

"Execution!" Neelix gasped.  "Isn't that rather harsh?"

"Not to the Ontlem's way of thinking, Mr. Neelix.  They consider
immediate execution to be quite the deterrent to those who wish to
traffic the extract or use it for their own malevolent purposes.
Plientis root extract only has too uses. Its official use is for
colouring ceremonial robes.  The pure extract is diluted with salt
water and used as a dye. Only a handful of textile manufacturers are
approved to work with it."

"And unofficially?" Harry asked.

"Unofficially is the reason why the manufacturers must have special
permits to make and use the extract.  In its pure form, the extract is
one of the fastest and most lethal substances known in the Alpha
Quadrant and because of that one of the most illegal.  The replicators
are not supposed to even replicate it without special instructions
from Starfleet Command it is that illegal."

Tuvok's eyebrow lifted.  "Given Mr. Paris's recent demonstration of
computer hacking skills, I hardly think it was difficult for him to
convince the computer to ignore that order."

"Yes, well, once the extract enters the bloodstream it already is too
late to save the victim.  It spreads throughout the system and within
a five milliseconds the victim is dead. Within a minute all tissues
are vaporized.  All that is left is a skeleton.  It is a swift and
rather painless way to die actually."

"Why would Tom be carrying something like that?" Kathryn wondered in a
stunned and hushed voice.

"That I cannot explain, Captain.  Though I think we can rule out the
possibility of him having a stack of robes which need redyeing."

Everyone ignored the black humour.

"Perhaps it was meant as a protection against these two groups he said
wanted him dead or alive?" Chakotay suggested.

"The expression on his face," Neelix observed, "was somewhat strange
when he looked at it."

Harry nodded.  "Like he was entranced by it."

"And he continually checked to make certain it still was with him,"
Tuvok added, "as if he was worried he would lose it or it would
disappear."

"Agreed," Seven nodded, "but if the Commander is right and it was
meant for self-defence it is not a sensible choice.  The assailant
would have to be within reach for him to use it.  That is unacceptably
close.  A phaser rifle would be more practical as a defensive weapon."

Kathryn changed the subject.  "What about this comment about having
successfully removed people's memories in the past?"

"There is no mention of it in his file." Chakotay shrugged.

"It would be so much easier if Mr. Paris would just tell us what we
want to know." the Doctor complained.  "This speculating is getting us
nowhere."

"Yes, it would be easier," the Captain agreed, "but he won't."

Kathryn wondered if Tom would tell any of them anything else again
after this disaster.  She knew it was going to be difficult to regain
the ground they had lost over this, if they ever could. If only things
had worked out right.  They had been so sure they knew how he would
act.

She looked at B'Elanna, silently slumped in her chair and staring
unseeingly at the tabletop.  His mate had been the most certain of how
Tom would react.  B'Elanna had insisted he wanted his career back,
even if he would be the last one to admit it. He was a pilot par
excellence, but he also was a natural leader like the rest of the
Paris clan.  Kathryn agreed with her.  As he continued to mature, she
knew he would become even more comfortable with the responsibility
being a Starfleet Officer entailed and want to stay on in Starfleet.
*If* Starfleet had the sense to permit it.

But that was some time in the future and they, and the young woman
down the table from her especially, had the fall-out from the here and
now to deal with.  From the overjoyed look on B'Elanna's face at the
time, she had guessed during the simulation was the first time he had
told B'Elanna he loved her instead of just showing her. Kathryn had
seen the same look on her sister's face the day her first boyfriend
had said those words to her.  The joy and relief that the object of
one's affections returned those affections was hard to mistake.  If
only Tom had not said what he had said to Chakotay in the simulation
about not joining them later and Tuvok had not blurted it out before
Kathryn has had a chance to prepare B'Elanna.

But it had happened.

"This is getting us nowhere." the Captain sighed as she rose and
slowly walked towards B'Elanna, eyes on the others. "Everyone go back
to your duties.  There's nothing else we can do for now."

As the others filed out, Kathryn laid a restraining hand on her Chief
Engineer's shoulder to keep her in her seat.  A quick jerk of his
Captain's head was enough to dissuade Harry from his intention of
waiting for his shell-shocked friend to join him.

Hand lifting, she sat in the chair next to the younger woman. "Well,
it's certain been one Hell of a day all round, hasn't it?"  She
attempted to elicit a smile.  "At least you won't have to test the
site to site transporter system for a while.  It certainly got a work
out today.  That Padlock Programme of his really was something.  Us
having to beam all of you in and out of the Holodeck all because the
doors refused to open."  Her voice petered out when she knew B'Elanna
was not listening.

"All my fault." B'Elanna whispered numbly, eyes still downcast. "He
did this for me."

"Partly, yes, I think he did.  No one knows better than Tom what it is
like to be in prison.  I'm sure he wanted to spare you and the others
that experience.  I also think, you were right when you guessed some
of it was to redeem himself in the eyes of the Maquis."  She shrugged.
"If there is any more reasons than that, I don't know what they are."

"He won't be punished, will he?"

"The rules dictate that since he failed his parole exam he should be
returned to his place of incarceration.  Obviously we can't do that."

"If you could?"

"That's the worst part of this job, having to follow the rules all the
time, even the ones you personally don't agree with."

"So you would."

"I don't know.  But, were we in the Alpha Quadrant and if he somehow
escaped before he got back to prison, I would regret the loss of a
fine officer and great pilot, but secretly wish him well."

B'Elanna nodded.

The older woman leaned back in her chair.  "When you argued for your
returning to the simulation, it wasn't really because you thought Tom
would expect you to choose to go, was it?  It was because you thought
he wanted to go and you were going to try to talk him out of leaving."

The brown eyes closed.

"Chakotay and I thought so."

"That's why he went too."

"Yes.  We knew you were up to something.  Until you argued in favour
of your beaming back onto the Holodeck, he and I had decided none of
you would return to the simulation.  The five holocharacters of Oliva,
Hydrat, Moi, Redstone, and Vavin were to go.  Despite everyone's best
efforts, the five of them never have fully fit in to the Starfleet way
of life.  It made sense for them to want to leave. Chakotay and Neelix
had no issues with staying.  We thought you were happy here too.
Maybe Seven would have considered going, given the bleak picture of
the future that he painted for her."

"But she refuse to participate any further since her time was better
used elsewhere and it was a waste of time to continue as we already
knew... well thought we knew the outcome of the test." B'Elanna rushed
to her feet and began to pace.  "I hate to say it, but she was right.
We should have stopped the simulation right there and confronted Tom.
His defences were down and wasn't that the point?  To get his defences
down so everyone could get past his facade and talk to him about his
recent attitude and dim view of the future?

"We probably shouldn't have done it at all." Kathryn admitted.

Near the viewport, B'Elanna stopped and looked at her captain.

"I should have listened to you when you said Tom was beginning to open
up to you again, should have let you handle it, but...."

"But you love him too and couldn't stand seeing him in pain, no matter
how well he tried to hide it."

Kathryn nodded.  "*And* I am Captain and he is one of my best
officers."

"And you need him a whole, happy, stable person."  She turned her gaze
to the starfield.  "I can't help you this time, Captain.  He knows I
betrayed him and his trust by helping do this to him.  He won't ever
talk to me again."

"He will.  He just needs to calm down, see what we were doing was to
help him.  Even if we went about it the wrong way."

B'Elanna did not appear convinced.

"He loves you very much.  He did tell you that, if he were able to, he
would follow you anywhere.  Clearly in his mind he wasn't able, but I
can't think of many who would willingly go wherever their partner
wanted without having a say-"

"But he chose not to go." she broke in, anger finally overwhelming her
remorse.

"These people who want him-"

"I forgot the pneumatic trick."

Kathryn's head whirled at the swift change of topic. "Pneumatic
trick?"

"For remembering how to spell 'assume'.  Make an 'ass' of 'u' or
'me'."

"I don't...."

"Kahless, he was going to let me go thinking he would be joining me
later." she growled to herself.

"B'Elanna, I think you should watch the recording of exactly what he
said to Chakotay.  It wasn't as cold blooded a statement as Tuvok said
it. Tom really was upset at having to leave you. He honestly was doing
it for your own protection.  I really believe that.  He wasn't doing
it to make... an ass out of you."

"But was going to do it anyway."

"He was leaving to keep you safe.  These people he told Chakotay want
him-"

"If we were going to be so safe at this base of his, this base that no
one knows about, then he would have been too.   No, he wasn't coming
because he was going to try to stay with Starfleet.  This story about
people wanting him dead, it was just a story.  He was telling it to
Chakotay so he wouldn't hurt him for hurting me."

"First of all, I doubt Starfleet would take him back all that easily,
B'Elanna, and secondly, do you honestly think he would pick Starfleet,
who threw him out when he told the truth about his mistakes, over you,
a woman who loves him?  Not the Tom Paris I know."

"I don't think any of us really know Tom Paris." she scoffed and
stormed out of the Conference Room.

Yes, Kathryn sighed, one Hell of a day.

---

The man who no one really knew was back in his safe place again -
seated on the deck in the corner of his bedroom.  This time he wasn't
crying as he had been after regaining consciousness from his
experience with the akoonah and his Awakening.  This time he was
staring blankly ahead of him, knees to his chest, arms wrapped
around his legs, right temple against the bulkhead.  This time there
was no chance of a certain beautiful engineer coming in, wrapping him
in her arms, and murmuring quietly to him until he fell asleep.  She
had betrayed him and by now someone, probably Chakotay, had told her
of his lie to her as well.  She certainly wouldn't be coming to him
after hearing that he had planned not to stay at her side when Voyager
returned home.  This time he was alone and was going to stay that way.

*Oh, but you're not alone,* Gul Camet sneered, *we're here with you.
We'll always be here with you.*

He closed his eyes and thought longingly of the hypospray. If only it
all had been real.  The others would be home in the Alpha Quadrant and
this would all finally be over, for them and especially for him.

*It'll never be over now.  They'll find out just what was in that
precious little hypo of yours.*  He laughed.  *I can't wait to hear
how you plan to explain why you had it and what you were planning on
doing with it.*

I'll tell them it was for protection.

*Against whom?  Them?*

No.  I told Chakotay about people wanting me dead.  I could say it was
to protect myself against them.

*Like they'll believe that.* Camet laughed.

Camet was right.  How was he going to explain the hypo? Only the truth
would suffice and only by telling them about his past, what he was and
what he had done, would the truth make sense.  There was no other way
of understanding why his committing suicide was the only way of saving
himself and all of them.

*Do you really think your remains being found would stop The
Protectors from sending the AlphaOmegans in for a full investigation
what had happened on Voyager?*

Everyone would think my being responsible for yet another crash that
killed some of my friends had thrown me over the edge. No one would
question Tom Paris committing suicide after causing the death of his
mate.

*Tom Paris, no.  But Alpha Two would wonder how you were able to
actually do the deed.  How you could do something which was contrary
to one of their Commands.  They'd wonder if you were Awake.*

They'd investigate and they'd wonder, but they would not find
anything.  The plientis root would have damaged The Implant enough
they couldn't have told whether it was active or dormant. And I
altered my medical file and checked the Doc's logs for any mention of
anything strange about my recent test results.  They'd never have
found evidence to confirm I was Awake.

*But the others will have seen you changing your file.*

They won't see any changes, Tom interrupted.

*But your so-called friends will make a report about all of this in
their logs.  And they're on to you now so you just can't go in and
change their logs without them noticing at some point.* He could sense
Camet grinning.  *Face it, your situation is hopeless.  They are on to
you.  Your attempts to act normal only made it more obvious that
things weren't normal.  Now they know about your plan.  Not that it
would have worked anyway.  With the technology The Protectors are
withholding from the rest of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, they might
have something that would have uncovered the fact there had not been
any shuttle accident, that you had faked it all.  They probably could
have figured out you'd changed your medical records too.  Face it,
you're doomed and so are all of them.*

He curled up even tighter.  It was ironic really.  They had done  all
this in an attempt to give him hope for the future and in  doing so
had taken away all his hope.

---

to be continued in To Tell The Truth 3: Togetherness