The BLTS Archive - To Tell The Truth
#5: Turning Point
by melanie (melanie@skynet.ca)

---

BIG WARNING TO THOSE WHO ARE TICKED OFF BY THE ENDING: there are THREE
MORE PARTS.  Put your head between your knees and take deep breaths.
Part 6 will appear shortly.  (relatively speaking)

Notes: As witnessed above, this is part 5 of the series.  "Spirit
Guide", "Parole", "Togetherness", and "Sunfire" precede this one and
must be read to understand the majority of what the Heck's going on.

Thanks:  To the betas: Briony, Annie M., Jan K., PJ in NH, Rook,
Tracey, Deb, and the other Feverites, who were unintentional
recipients of a misdirected attachment but read it anyway - polished
version or not - and sent feedback.  My heartfelt thanks to all.

Khamelon for saying, "I wish we'd found out more about the
AlphaOmegans." Here's some more, though not all.

Captain Jinx for his "Blue Horizon" (which I read just before I began
serious work on this story and it seems to be reflected in the sexual
aspect to a part of my effort here).

And especially to everyone who's taken the time to send feedback
and/or nag (not naming any names, Rook, Sass, Matthew) for the next
part.  Thanks.

Disclaimer:  The usual - theirs, not mine, wish they were, but they're
not, etc., etc., don't sue.

(we now officially depart from the canon timeline though this follows
"Sunfire" which was post "Hope and Fear")

---

"Lay her on the table," Sunbird ordered Bartoq.  "T'Kara, get us out
of here."

"Aye, sir," came the call over the comm.

As he rushed over to the bed, Sunbird felt through the vibrations of
the deckplates The Vanguard begin to move.

"Everyone, to your stations.  Let Wer and Wat work."

While the others rushed from the Sickbay and the twin male Bolians
began to work on their patient, Sunbird yanked off his hood with one
hand, cursing under his breath at how badly this Mission had gone.

"We're losing her," Wer announced and Wat scrambled for a hypospray.

Frantically, they worked on their fallen colleague, but at the end of
five minutes they admitted it was a lost cause.  They did.  Sunbird
did not.  He refused to accept it.  His mind searched for something
they had not tried, no matter how outrageous.  Suddenly he had it.

Whether they saw the potential in his plan or it was because they were
programmed to obey his commands as their leader, they never questioned
his bizarre orders, merely followed them.  Twenty long minutes later,
Sunfire's body officially was declared dead and her consciousness now
resided in the ship's computer.  When they silently exited the room to
inform the others of this development, Sunbird stood over the corpse,
expressionless.

"I should feel something," he said to himself.  "Why don't I feel
anything? She's dead.  I cared about her more than anyone else in my
life.  Why don't I feel anything?"

Suddenly the corpse before him opened her brown eyes and turned her
red haired head towards him. *Yes, why don't you feel anything?*

*Why don't you feel anything?* a chorus of voices called from behind
him.

He whirled around to see Pardan, Souris, Bartoq, Dumar, T'Kara, and
Yana standing behind him with accusatory looks on their faces. *Didn't
we mean anything to you?*

"Of course you did!" he insisted, backing away from them... and right
into the arms of Wer and Wat.

*What about us?* they asked as Tom began to back away from them.
*Didn't you care about us when we died all those years ago?"

"Yes, of course I did!"

*And me?* the female Trill who appeared behind him next murmured.
*Didn't I mean anything to you?*

"Yes, you did, Lizei," he assured her as two impossibly long arms
wrapped around him and drew him back against a pliant gender-neutral
form.

*We didn't mean anything to you,* the vaguely feminine voice said.
*Nothing at all.  That is why you let us all die.*

"No, Gaylorne!" he cried, the R'taian's arms continuing to tighten
around him.  "I did care, but I couldn't save you.  I wasn't able to
save you.  I tried but I couldn't do it."

*But we were your team,* they said in unison and all moving towards
him. *We were your responsibility.  You were supposed to protect us
from harm, but you didn't and now we're all dead and you don't care.*

"I do care!" he choked out through his constricted lungs.  "I didn't
want any of you to die."

*But you didn't save any of us!*

"I couldn't.  I tried, but things prevented me."

*You could have if you really had wanted to.*

"But I tried!"

"Sunbird, wake up!  Sunbird!"

Tom came to with a jerk.

"Are you okay?" Sunfire asked, her voice fraught with emotion.

Blinking and scrubbing the tears from his face, he looked around him.
He was lying in the foetal position on the deck next to his bed on
Sunfire.  Again.  Since the day before the AlphaOmegans' funeral, he
more or less had been living in his quarters here.  His home on
Voyager no longer felt like a home. Everyone on the crew treated him
either as though he had some communicable disease and avoided him as
much as possible or awkwardly attempted to pretend nothing had
changed, that the past couple weeks had not happened.  Though he knew
those who fell into the latter group were attempting to be helpful, he
found it was anything but.  He longed for the time before they all
knew about his secret past as an AlphaOmegan, as an assassin.

Most of all he longed for B'Elanna and Harry.  His path had
intersected that of each of them, together and separately a few times
during the past four days since the day of the funeral.  B'Elanna
studiously avoided eye contact with him and never spoke to him unless
it was absolutely unavoidable. Harry on the other hand seemed to
almost go out of his way to establish eye contact so Tom could see the
anger and betrayal the younger man still felt over Tom's role in
Souris' death.  Tom had thought the Hell The Protectors had put him
through over the years had prepared him for any other Hell he could
encounter, but receiving the cold shoulder from the woman he loved and
only naked hatred from the man he considered a brother was worse.

And then there were the nightmares.  Prior to The Diogenes'
appearance, he had been able to control any nightmares that had
threatened by directed dreaming.  Now he seemed to have lost that
ability and the horrible dreams had returned, worse than ever.  Every
night they were the same.  It would start out with the respective
Mission that had resulted in one of their deaths.  His dearly departed
colleagues would come to him as he remembered the death or deaths then
all would confront him about his inability to prevent their premature
ends.

"And they're right," he muttered to himself.  "It was my fault.  I
should have tried harder to protect them."

"Sunbird?" Sunfire called to him.  She had waited silently as he
gathered himself and now she felt it was time for her to try yet again
to convince him to confide his troubling dreams in her.

Naturally, he had different ideas.  Shakily, he got to his feet and
shed the clothes he had slept in yet again.  "How far has Voyager
progressed with the repairs?"

"There's not a lot more they can do until they get the new parts or
the raw materials to create them. Sunbird, about your nightmare-"

"I don't want to discuss it," he insisted, climbing into the shower.

His tone indicated he would not be swayed.  Sighing to herself, she
cleaned the clothes he had tossed into the refresher.  She knew he
would want them as soon as he emerged from the bathroom. They were all
he had worn since he had removed the AlphaOmegan uniform after the
funeral.

To a degree she could understand his refusal to wear anything other
than these civvies.  With the way the Voyager crew had been treating
him, he no longer felt apart of them. Wearing his AlphaOmegan uniform
only would have compounded the problem, bringing back memories best
consigned to the past and serving as a visual reminder to the others
of just how different he was from them.  The blue jeans, black boots,
and blue sweater with his Starfleet combadge attached was the
alternative he had chosen and no one had commented.  Yet.

Tom re-emerged, freshly showered and shaved, and found his clothes
waiting for him in a neat pile in the refresher.  "Thanks," he
mumbled.

"Breakfast?"

"No, I'll..." He stopped himself from saying "I'll pick up something
in the Mess Hall later."  After what had happened there two nights ago
he doubted he wanted to subject himself to that ever again.

Once a week it was Neelix's night off and others in the crew with a
modicum of culinary skill would take over, one for each meal of the
day.  Two nights ago it had come Tom's turn again to do dinner. It was
amazing how many of the crew suddenly decided to skip dinner when they
heard or saw who was cooking.  The few who had eaten there either were
falling all over themselves to be gracious to the pilot cum cook or
became incapable of speech.  Tom had soldiered on through dishing out
the meal then promptly removed his name from the Neelix-relief
rotation the moment the last dinner had been served.

"How about a cup of Zalian breakfast drink?  You always enjoyed that."
Through the tap she maintained into Voyager's systems, Sunfire knew
what had transpired in the Mess Hall and was giving him a chance to
avoid a repeat of that embarrassment.

"Thank you."

As he finished dressing and the large mug of purplish liquid appeared
in the replicator slot, she broached another subject.  "Sunbird?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you honestly think they can succeed?  Use the plans for altering
Voyager and create their own Gopher Hole?"

"Alter Voyager, yes.  Open the Gopher Hole?  I don't know," he sighed,
going to the replicator for his breakfast.  "They're very creative and
intelligent.  Probably they can do it with the info you gave them
about the Gopher Hole."

"Then what?"

Knowing she was asking more than what the next step was in readying
Voyager for the possible trip home, he stalled by draining his mug.  A
minute later, he slowly set the empty mug back in the slot as he took
a deep breath then told her his plans for the future.

---

"Please stop flinching, Mr. Neelix" the EMH complained to his patient,
"or I'll end up fusing your eyelids shut.  Lieutenant, how did he do
this anyway?"

Joe Carey sighed.  This was the seventh time someone had asked him to
explain Neelix's minor burns to the face and the half cooked pancake
batter sticking to his hair and whiskers and he was getting tired of
it. "He was trying to make pancakes.  I remarked I remembered my
father being an expert at flipping pancakes.  He asked me what that
was so I told him."

"And let me guess, his trajectory was a bit off and he was looking up
at the pancake when it came down and hit him."

"Exactly."

The Doctor shook his head.  "Even breakfast on Voyager is an
adventure."

The Sickbay doors opened and Tom Paris entered.

"Ah, Mr. Paris, right on time for a change."

Joe's eyes darted to the young man then back to Neelix.  "Well, if
you're sure Neelix is going to be okay, I have to get to Engineering.
Lieutenant Torres has quite the list of things for us to accomplish
today."

Engineering's second-in-command hurried out of Sickbay without another
word or acknowledging the medical assistant.  Used to the reaction by
now, Tom ignored it and stopped at the biobed of Sickbay's only other
patient to check her vitals.

"Just the 'flu?" Tom whispered so as not to disturb Naomi.

"Yes, a mild strain of the Halatin 'flu.  Nothing to worry about. It's
almost entirely out of her system.  I plan to release her to her own
quarters in a few hours."

Tom nodded and approached Neelix's biobed.  "Are you all right,
Neelix?"

"Uh, yes," the newly healed cook answered in a shadow of his usually
outgoing tone.  "Doctor, may I go?  I have to shower then prepare for
lunch."

"Of course," the hologram agreed.  "And if you try flipping anything,
might I suggest you let someone else try and catch it."

"Sure, Doctor.  Excuse me."

When they were alone, the EMH regarded his assistant.  "Well, Mr.
Paris, it seems you have acquired quite the skill at clearing a room."

"You've noticed," Tom muttered, clearing away the instruments the
Doctor had used in treating Neelix. "What do you want me to do today?"

"I have an experiment I'd like you to oversee.  It's all set up in the
lab."

---

"Joe!  Hey, Joe, wait up!"

Joe slowed his pace so the almost eight months pregnant Crewwoman
LaKeysha Walesan could catch up.

"What's with the rush?" she asked, panting slightly.

"I need to get to Engineering."

"I thought you were off this shift."

"I was, but Lieutenant Torres-"

She held up a palm.  "There's no need to continue," she sighed. "She's
certainly been burying herself and everyone else in quite the heavy
workload lately."

"She's having a hard time with this.  Frankly, all of us are."  He
shook his head.  "So many lies and false hopes."

"So you don't think we can open this Gopher Hole ourselves?"

"I don't know.  I mean, I know all the simulations and calculations
we've done from the information Sunfire's given us say it *is*
possible, I still can't help thinking 'what if they aren't telling us
everything'?"

"By 'they' you mean Lieutenant Paris and Sunfire."

"Yes.  The sims come out okay so obviously there's no actual evidence
they *have* left something vital out, but I can't help wondering what
they have to gain by helping us get home?"

"They help us get home," she stressed.

"Yes, but what do they get out of it?  If what he claims is true, The
Protectors will kill him the moment he pokes his nose into the Alpha
Quadrant.  It makes more sense for him to stay here."

"So you think he's somehow trying to sabotage us so he doesn't have to
go home?  I don't buy it.  Not Tom Paris.  He's been as focused on
getting this crew home as anybody."

"Tom Paris, yes."  He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and back
towards Sickbay.  "This guy, I don't know."

Carey's combadge chirped and Vorik called him to a minor crisis in
Engineering.

---

Having blatantly been eavesdropping as she and her twin strode down
the corridor a few metres behind Joe and LaKeysha, Jenny now elbowed
her sister in the side.  "See?  Even Joe Carey agrees with everyone.
You're so lucky you wised up and stopped defending Paris."

Fighting back her rising emotions, Megan bit out a retort through
clenched teeth.  "Just leave it alone, Jenny."

Naturally, she did not.  "I kept telling everyone you'd snap out of
it. 'It's denial,' I told them.  'Sooner or later she'll accept what's
happened and see him for what he really is.'"

"I said leave it alone!" she yelled then ran off in the opposite
direction, in tears.

Sighing, Jenny shook her head yet did not follow.  She knew when her
twin got this upset, she did not want company, not even her sister.
"She's gone from denial to anger," Jenny murmured.  "Just one short
step to acceptance."

With that prediction hanging in the air, she wandered off to see if
her latest conquest was interested in playing hooky with her for a few
minutes alone somewhere.

---

"Doctor?"

Not looking up from his tricorder readings, the EMH acknowledged
Ensign Wildman.  "Ensign, are you hurt as well?"

"No."  She looked around at the half dozen injured crewmembers who had
been working in the lab prior to the explosion of the beaker.  "I was
in the turbolift when I heard there was an accident so I came straight
here to help if needed.  I didn't expect to see you.  I thought you
were with Naomi in Sickbay."

"I was when I had to come here."

"You left Naomi alone?"

"No, Mr. Paris is-"

Sam's audible intake of breath caught everyone's attention including
the Doctor's.  He rose from his patient and looked at her.

"Is there a problem, Ensign?"

"A problem?" she squeaked.  "No, no, of course not.  You seem to have
things well in hand here.  I think I'll go see how Naomi is."

As she practically ran from the room, he attempted to explain his
assistant was there running some tests he could not leave so he had
come in his place.  The shutting of the lab doors cut him off in
mid-sentence. Shaking his head, he turned back to the others and saw
everyone was staring at him in varying degrees of disapproval.

"What?"

---

Captain Kathryn Janeway was on a mission and it was one she did not
relish. Less than an hour ago, she had been in the Mess Hall and had
overheard a conversation that had worried her.  Her having gone
straight to her First Officer's office for confirmation had only made
things worse.

"You heard right, Kathryn," Chakotay had told her from his seat at his
desk. "I would have said 'except Megan Delaney', but after what I
heard about yesterday, apparently even she's staying away from him."

"But for the entire crew to refuse to go to Sickbay as long as Tom's
there." She had shaken her head. "If there's an emergency, they'll
have no choice but to take whomever they get."

"It's not exactly that they're refusing to go there; it's just they'd
feel much more comfortable if he was not the one treating them."

"But he's the Medical Assistant.  He's the only one with enough
training to perform surgery if necessary. Simple surgeries at least."

"You have to understand, Kathryn.  The crew is scared of him.  They
don't know what to expect anymore.  Resentment towards him and the
AlphaOmegans is prevalent.  Finding out about his past has everyone
worried."

"Why?"

"Quite honestly it's because they're scared he'll go over the edge
again and hurt or even kill someone when he's supposed to be curing
them."

"That's ridiculous."

"Not to the crew.  Given what they've heard about him, both from the
AlphaOmegans and by his own admission, they feel their worry is
justified.  They don't feel they can fully trust him anymore.  Not
after everything that happened or came out."

"Do you trust him?"

Chakotay had thought for a moment then sighed deeply.  "I don't know.
He's admitted to having murdered and tortured people in the past.
Whatever the reason for his having done it, he did do it and is
capable of doing it again."

"The important question is, is he *willing* to do it?  He did it in
the past because he was ordered by The Protectors to do it."

"And Camet?"

Kathryn had swallowed hard at the mention of the Cardassian.  Finding
out Tom had temporarily gone insane, captured, tortured, then killed
her and Admiral Paris' former captor and his father had left her with
ambivalent feelings.  On the one hand, she was glad Camet was dead so
the nightmares could stop forever.  On the other, she was stunned at
her own lack of disdain for Tom's actions.  She was opposed to killing
on principle, so why did she not hate Tom for what he had done? This
question had been haunting her for days without an answer forthcoming.

Seeing her conflict, Chakotay had risen and engulfed her in a hug.
"Kathryn, do *you* honestly still trust him?"

"I.... I don't know.  Part of me does, yes."

"Is that because you really trust him or is it because you feel
grateful for what he did to Camet and you feel you owe him?"

She had not responded and he had not tried to force one out of her.

"Kathryn, the point is he wasn't ordered to kill those Cardassians.
Camet. His father.  The others. He did it all on his own and that plus
what happened to him only a few days ago is what has the crew spooked.
It's been proved in the past that he can lose control and go berserk
if sufficiently motivated.  And only days ago he was in the clutches
of Alpha Two, being physically and psychologically tortured and
drugged and... Kathryn, it has to have left him unbalanced mentally. I
really wouldn't be surprised if he did snap and neither would the
crew.  They see he has the potential to be a loose cannon and they're
scared of what'll happen if or when he goes off again."

She had hugged him back for a long time, thinking.  "So what do I do?
Do I throw him in the brig for the rest of the trip home?  Do I
confine him to quarters or Sunfire so n o one sees him?  Do I do what
The Protectors were doing to him?  Keep him so drugged he can't even
think for himself and won't be a danger to us?"

"I don't know.  Removing him from Sickbay is a necessary start I'd
say.  At least until both he and the crew have settled down."

"The Doctor's not going to like it.  He says Tom has an aptitude for
medicine, when he pays proper attention to his studies that is.  After
all the time he's spent training him...."

"He'll have him in Sickbay again as soon as the crew is assured Tom
isn't a danger to them.  When that will be... I don't know.  Maybe he
can keep studying medicine but in his quarters or on the Holodeck or
something."

"What about the Helm?  They don't seem worried about him being there."

"Don't they?  Haven't you noticed that whomever's at the Science
station is extremely tense for the entire shift?"

"No, not really."

"Well, you haven't been on the Bridge much over the past few days
since Paris came back on duty. Whoever is at the Science station
usually is relaxed until he assumes the Conn.  After that...."  He had
shaken his head.  "Yesterday, the ensign who was there, I thought he
was going to snap in two, he was so tense."

"Why?"

"It seems whomever is at that station has been volunteered by the
others to monitor the helm controls. As far as I can tell, I think
they're thinking, if he does something wrong, they'll catch it in time
to save us."

She had shut her eyes at this.  "So you think I should remove him from
the Helm too?"

"I don't know.  Despite everything else, he is our best pilot.  If
there is trouble, we need him there."

"But everyone will be watching him like the proverbial hawk before,
during, and after."

"Yes."

She had drawn herself away from the comforting embrace while she still
could.  She had been on the verge of saying "Forget it all.  I'm just
going to stay here, like this for the rest of the voyage.  Let the
ship take care of itself."  Kathryn was finding more frequently that
to be the case.  While in Chakotay's presence, especially when in his
arms, she was forgetting she was the Captain and she had big decisions
she was supposed to be making.  And those brief moments of respite
from her responsibilities were becoming addictive.

"What about this thing with Megan Delaney?  What's that all about?"

"Apparently she's been sticking up for him and doing so rather loudly
until yesterday."  He shrugged. "Something happened.  No one seems to
know what, but she won't go anywhere near him or even talk about it.
Geron is on the verge of going for Paris' throat."

Alarmed, her eyes snapped to his.  "You don't think Tom did anything
to hurt her, do you?"

"There's no bruises or any indications of anything physical having
happened, no.  But he must have said or done something to convince her
to keep her distance."

"Can someone calm Geron down?"

"I've tried, but I don't know how successful my talking to him was."

"Computer, locate Lt. Paris."

"Lt. Paris is in Sickbay," the computer had answered.

"I'm going to go talk to him and the Doctor."

"What are you going to do?"

She had paused in the doorway.  "I don't know."

Now, as she entered Sickbay through the doors near the Doctor's
office, she still did not know.  And even if she had, what she saw and
heard would have sent the words flying right out of her head.

In the darkened main room of Sickbay sat Tom Paris in a chair next to
a biobed.  Snuggled down under a blanket was Naomi Wildman, looking
pale and weak from her case of 'flu.  Unable to stop herself, the
Captain moved to the doorway to their area to eavesdrop on the pair as
they softly talked

"But why won't Mommy let you play with me anymore, Tommy?" the little
girl asked.  "Did I do something bad?"

"No!" Tom insisted loudly then softened his voice once more.  "No,
Cucumber, it wasn't you.  It was me.  I did something bad and that's
why she won't let me play with you anymore."

"Can't you say you're sorry and won't do it again?"

He smoothed back her hair from her spiked forehead.  "That's not
enough, Naomi.  What I did was very, very bad."

"So you're being punished by not being allowed to play with me?"

"Something like that."

"But I didn't do anything wrong!  Why am I being punished?  I want to
play with you!"

"Naomi, you're not being punished.  At least that's not what she means
to do."  Tom was quiet for a moment then softly admitted the adults'
justification for everything. "She doesn't want you playing with me
because she doesn't want you to turn out like me."

"Why not?"

"Because of the very bad things I did.  I think everyone's scared I'll
teach you to do them too."

"Oh," she said, thinking.  "What did you do?"

He swallowed hard.  "I killed people, Naomi.  A lot of them."

"Why?"

"Do you remember those people who were here a few days ago.  The ones
in the dark blue uniforms?"

Naomi nodded.

"Back in the Alpha Quadrant, I was one of them and The Protectors, the
people who picked me to be one of those people, their job is to see
that there's peace back home, at least that's what it is supposed to
be. So before I came to Voyager, they would send me out to kill people
they thought were a threat to the peace."

"Why kill them?  Why couldn't you just tell them to behave?"

"The Protectors would try to make them behave, yes, but sometimes it
wouldn't work.  When it didn't, they'd send me or someone like me to
kill them.  That way they'd stop."

"Did you want to kill them?"

"Back then, I didn't care one way or the other, Naomi.  The Protectors
did things to me and to my mind so I did whatever they told me to do.
But now that I know what they did to me and what I did, I wished I
hadn't killed those people."

She was quiet for a moment.  "But if everyone's scared of *you*, why
can't I play with my friends anymore?  Are they scared of them too?"

He nodded.  "It's because I designed them, Naomi.  Everyone's worried
I might have programmed them to teach you something bad."

"Did you?"

"No."

"Then why don't you tell them that and then I can play with them
again?"

"They won't believe me, Cucumber.  They think I lied about not knowing
about the bad things that I did so I'll lie about other things too."

"Are you lying?"

"No."

"Then they're stupid."

"Naomi, don't you ever call anyone stupid!  They are scared and trying
to protect themselves and you. That's not stupid."

"But it's not fair!"

"I know.  But life isn't fair sometimes.  No matter how many times I
tell them I'm sorry for what I did and that I'm not a threat to any of
them, it won't stop them from being scared.  The only thing we can
hope for right now is one day they'll remember I'm not all bad and
forgive me a little.  Then maybe we can play together again."

"But that could be a long time from now.  I want to play now!"

"I know."  He gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb.  "I wish we
could, but we can't.  You have to obey your mommy.  She's only trying
to do what she thinks is best for you."

"But-"

"No more 'buts'.  You get some rest."

As he started to stand, her little hand grabbed for his and held on
tight. "Will you stay with me, Tommy?  Till I fall asleep?"

Tom nodded and settled back down just as Naomi's mother burst in, pale
and plainly nervous.

The man was up and out of his chair instantly.

Naomi attempted to sit up only to have Tom gently coaxed her back
down.

Awkwardly, Sam looked around and noticed the Captain standing in the
doorway.  "Captain..." she said, not seeming to know how to voice the
concerns so evident on her face.

Tom followed the mother's gaze to their superior.  His face betrayed
nothing.

"Ensign, I heard Naomi's still feeling poorly," the Captain remarked,
moving farther into the room. "Tom seems to have everything well in
hand.  How are you feeling, Naomi? Any better?"

"A little, Captain," the little girl answered.  Unconsciously, her
little hand tightened its grasp on Tom's ring and pinkie fingers,
leaving no doubt, in Kathryn's mind at least, that his presence was
the reason the child was feeling that little bit better.

However, he was focusing only on the anxiety he saw in the patient's
mother. Gently, he withdrew his fingers from her hand and tucked the
hand and arm under the covers then straightened his shoulders.  "I'll
be in the office until the Doctor returns," he informed them as he
walked passed them.

The Captain's heart went out to him as she saw him pretend to become
engrossed in the information he called up on the computer on the desk.
But she did not have time to go to him and she was not even sure she
wanted to what with her own emotions so conflicted about him and his
past.  That she would sort out later.  Right now, she had a now upset
child and her near-panicked mother to address.

"Samantha-"

"I don't want him here!" the ensign hissed, her voice surely carrying
the couple of metres into the office. "I know what happened to him was
not his fault for the most part, but I'm not comfortable with him
around my daughter.  What if he snaps and does something to her?  I
feel sorry for him, but Naomi comes first.  I have her safety to think
of."

Kathryn sighed to herself.  'And I have this crew's safety to think
of.  But who is thinking of Tom?'

While Naomi objected to her mother's demands, the Captain turned her
eyes to Tom.  Clearly he *had* heard every word.  Like an old man, he
slowly rose from chair and disappeared into the lab beyond the office,
the shoulders under the blue sweater slumped.

'He can't even keep up his fa�ade anymore?' she wondered to herself.

She remembered the day after the funeral.  How stoic he had been then,
how straight his posture had been when he had entered Holodeck Two
where she, B'Elanna, and representatives from each department on the
ship had tensely been waiting for him to appear.  Though she had not
known it at the time, Chakotay later had informed her of what the
scuttlebutt around the ship was saying about Tom. According to it,
since no one had seen the pilot since the AlphaOmegans' funeral the
day before, some were saying he was too ashamed that everyone now knew
his secret past and was hiding on Sunfire.  Others said that did not
sound like Paris and claimed the Captain had decided he should remain
on the other ship until things had died down on Voyager.  Few believed
the truth: that he was finishing up repairs on the small ship that
carried the consciousness of his late colleague and now bore her name.

Precisely on time, the doors to the Holodeck had opened and Tom Paris
had entered.  Automatically, all heads had turned towards him, if only
for a moment.  No one had missed the fact he was wearing, not his
Starfleet uniform, or even his AlphaOmegan one, but civilian togs. The
odd mode of dress had puzzled everyone, though no one said anything.
They had known the Captain was the one who by rights should and would
comment.  Yet she had not.  Tom had a lot to work through right now
and if wearing these clothes helped him in some way, then so be it.

"Since we are all here, I think we should begin," she had said then
called up the hologram of Voyager as Tom took the only empty seat at
the horseshoe shaped table she had conjured up for the meeting.

He had said no more than he had had to during the discussion on using
the AlphaOmegans' plans for altering Voyager to safely travel through
the Gopher Hole and back to the Alpha Quadrant.  Though the
AlphaOmegans were dead or gone, the plans had remained in the ship's
computer and with the help of Paris and Sunfire, the idea was to put
them to good use.  Once the meeting was over, he was the first one to
get to his feet and exit the room, sparing everyone the awkwardness of
having to decide whether to make small talk with him or not.

'Even then his bearing had been firmly erect, showing no signs of
anything bothering him,' she thought. 'But it's finally worn him
down.'

She looked at Sam who was attempting to soothe and reason with her
little girl.  Naomi of course would have none of it.

The EMH chose that moment to enter.  He and Kathryn exchanged a look
and a mental sigh.  The hologram set his medkit on the counter and
reached for a hypo of sedative before the Captain stopped him with a
shake of the head.  Sedating Sam or Naomi was not going to solve
anything.

Nor was her trying to talk them into calming down.  After twenty
minutes an exhausted Naomi fell asleep and her mother left in a huff
after demanding assurances Paris never would be left alone with her
daughter ever again.  Reluctantly, the Doctor had to concede to her
wishes since she was Naomi's mother. Satisfied, Wildman left for her
quarters to rest until it was time for her shift.

Alone at last, the Captain quietly outlined the altercation between
Sam and Tom and the reason for her presence there.  Once she had
finished, the Doctor told her of the reaction from the crewmembers he
had been treating at the accident site.

"Well, it seems like I'm minus an assistant once more," the Doctor
observed sadly.

"I don't want to do it, but clearly it will have to be so until things
calm down."

"Yes.  We can't have the crew scared of coming into Sickbay when they
need to be here.  Where is Mr. Paris?"

"He's in your lab."

They entered the lab to find the man in question finishing uploading a
report to a padd.  He did not look at them as they came in.

"I finished the experiment, Doctor," he said rather formally.  "The
results are all here."

"Tom," Kathryn began, "we need to talk about-"

"I heard.  Obviously it is for the best.  Good evening, Captain,
Doctor."

The young man walked passed them and out of Sickbay.

"It's ironic really," Kathryn murmured.  "Just last week at Naomi's
birthday party, Ensign Wildman was saying Tom was the one person other
than Neelix with whom she completely trusted Naomi."

"And now she won't let him near her."  The Doctor looked at the padd
in his hand, though not reading the information there.  "It is a
shame.  I thought almost everyone honestly liked him."

She stared at him.  "He's still the same man, Doctor."

He met her gaze.  "But there certainly is a lot more to him than we
knew."

"That shouldn't matter."

"But it seems to the rest of the crew it does."

The far doors to Sickbay opening to admit a patient ended the
conversation.

---

Not knowing where else to go, Tom found a Holodeck with free time open
and went there.  He did not even have a programme in mind when he
entered, merely went inside and stood there, trying not to think, for
a long while.  Finally, he gave in to the computer's repeated requests
for a programme name, called up the Resort's beach, and sat in the
sand, staring out at the normally calming waves.

This time he did not find the lapping and rolling calming at all.  All
he felt was the loneliness growing and growing inside of him.  For all
intents and purposes he was as isolated from the crew as he would have
been were he stranded on some planet a thousand light years away
without a transponder to tell anyone where he was.  Moreover the
voices in his head, that of Camet and the others he had killed seemed
to have abandoned him.  For the first time in his life, he was totally
alone.  Even after his admission of the truth about Caldik Prime he
had not been this alone.  There always had been Sandrine to coddle him
or some not so discriminating female who was willing to spend time
with his handsome face and handsomer body. There was no chance of that
now, not with everyone on Voyager against him. And besides, B'Elanna
was the only woman he wanted now, not that he truly had *wanted*
emotionally any of the women he had bedded in his past life as a
womanizer.

Arms hanging over updrawn knees, he let his head hang limp.  'Why am I
even bothering?' he asked himself.  'They don't need me.  They
certainly don't *want* me.  Why do I stay?'

'Because you have nowhere to go,' he answered himself.  'If you leave
the Voyager, you'll be stranded here in the Delta Quadrant, totally on
your own, without anything familiar to you.  You'd be a target for
anyone who'd ever heard of Voyager and what she could do.  You'd be
hunted down, eventually captured, and tortured into telling all you
know about her.  Even you can't hold out to torture forever.  And then
where would this crew be?  The ship would be vulnerable to attack and
some, if not all, would die.'

'There is always the other option.  End it all.  You're the root of
the problem.  Just eliminate yourself from the equation.  Problem
solved.  Life goes back to normal for them and you become nothing more
than a bizarre footnote in an already very bizarre episode of
Starfleet history.'

Just as he was about to seriously consider this option, he remembered
the vow of vengeance he had made to the others at their funeral.  Were
he to remove himself from Voyager or from this mortal coil, he would
be failing to fulfil his solemn promise to make The Protectors pay for
what they had done to all of them.  Already he had let them down in
failing to protect them from harm. He could not and would not fail
them in this.

As he reaffirmed his promise, he heard the sound of the Holodeck doors
opening, meaning he was about to receive company.  Quickly, he called
up the "Playmates" programme and Siobahn and the children he had
created for Naomi to play with appeared.  At a word from him, the
group bounded off to commence building a mammoth sandcastle city a
couple of metres away so by the time the Security Chief found Tom on
the beach, it appeared he had been watching them for some time, not
brooding.

"Tuvok," he said without turning to see him.

"Lieutenant."  Not asking how Tom had known it was him, the Vulcan
lowered himself to the sand beside the human.  "I was under the
impression you were to be on duty in Sickbay this shift."

"Obviously you haven't heard."  Tom's voice dropped to a
conspiratorial tone and he leaned sideways towards his companion.
"I've been relieved from the Sickbay and Helm until further notice."

"Why?"

Straightening, Tom became sarcastic.  "You see, Tuvok, I'm this really
scary person who's done all these horrible things and just might snap
at any moment.  I can't be trusted to be around people.  In fact, you
shouldn't be sitting so close to me.  I just might go for your
throat."

"Might you?"

Tom slanted him a disgusted look.

"I am certain this is only a temporary arrangement."

"Arrangement?"  Tom sputtered.  "Tuvok, flowers in a vase is an
arrangement. This is Hell."

"A temporary one."

"Temporary?  You really think that?  My past won't change given time.
I'm always going to be what they know me to be right now.  It's not
going to just go away one day and all will be the way it once was."

"They will have to learn to accept it and you.  They have before."

"Yeah, like the two really are the same thing."  He held out both
hands as if testing the mass of an object in each.  "Lying about a
shuttle crash causing the deaths of three of my friends versus lying
about committing mass murder.  Gee, Tuvok, yeah, they should have just
as easy a time of getting over this as they did the last time."

The hands dropped as he fell silent.

"It will happen eventually.  It is a long trip home."

"Not if the Gopher Hole can be opened, it won't be.  Even if it
doesn't, I'll bet you a year's replicator rations we'll still get home
before they accept me and my past."

Tuvok remained silent.

"What?  No bet?  Too bad.  Since I can't go to the Mess Hall without
putting everyone off of their lunch, I could have used them.  It's
rather inconvenient going over to Sunfire anytime I feel like eating."

"Which I have observed is not often.  You appear to have lost at least
five kilos in the past week."

It was Tom's turn to be quiet.

"Not everyone feels the way the others do.  Myself, the Doctor, the
Captain-"

"Don't be so sure about that, Tuvok.  The Doctor's every bit as
worried as the others are.  And the Captain seems to be in the process
of being persuaded to 'see the light'."

"I have not 'seen the light' as you phrase it."

"Then you are a fool."

"Is that what you said to Lieutenant Delaney?"

Tom's jaw stiffened.

"I know she publicly defended you to some of the crew then you talked
to her alone and less than ten minutes later she was seen crying and
you were walking in the opposite direction."  He sent him a
calculating look.  "You are not a cruel man."

Another snort.

"You would not hurt someone without an excellent reason.  Were I to
make an hypothesis, I would say you said something to Miss Delaney
which was calculated to drive a wedge between you two so she would
avoid you as the others do."

"They were starting to lump her in with me," the pilot whispered
sadly.  All the sarcasm had left him.  "I could tell by the way they
looked at her, like they were wondering exactly how close we really
were.  Were we in league somehow?  Was she as much a threat to them as
they think I am? Was she an AlphaOmegan sympathizer?  I'm sure the
only reason they haven't accused her of actually *being* an
AlphaOmegan is because of what happened to the others.  At least they
know for sure there can't be any others like me on board.  Alpha Two's
sending the akoonah frequency and self-destruct code would have killed
any who still were Asleep thereby exposing them."  He shook his head.
"I couldn't let it go on.  Megan's my friend.  I care about her."

"You had to stop her defence of you before they ostracized her too."

"I couldn't drag her down with me, no."

"Very noble."

"On the contrary, very realistic.  It wouldn't stop with Megan you
know. Anyone who breaks ranks with them and is seen with me will be
under suspicion.  You're risking it right now if anyone finds out
you're here.  Which they will.  There's a constant surveillance of me
whenever I'm on board.   Oh, but you probably know that, you being the
Security Chief and all."

"Yes, I ordered it as a precaution to protect you, more than them," he
explained.  "I am surprised you know about it however."

"Oh, you'd be surprised at the things that I know."

"Yes, I'm sure I would."

They sat in silence for a few minutes watching the children.

"You surprised everyone when you revealed their connection with the
AlphaOmegans who died," Tuvok said, gesturing to the happy group
erecting monuments that would have made the sand gods of Cor-a-lea
proud.  "The ones who were not amongst the ones who died though.  Do
they too match up with actual AlphaOmegans?"

All the fight went out of Tom.  "Yes."  He pointed to each one in
turn. "Fala, the unjoined Trill, was known as Lizei.  She was killed
in an explosion ten years ago."  He pointed to the Bolian males. "Chyr
and Chyn were Wer and Wat.  They were exposed to a plague and died
five and a half years ago.  I didn't really know them well.  They
didn't come with us on Missions much.  They were medical doctors and
any injuries any AlphaOmegan sustained when on a Mission usually had
to wait until he, she or it returned to Base.  I had to use Chell and
Golwat to flesh out their personalities."

"And the Talaxian, Naxia?  There are not any Talaxians hiding in the
Alpha or Beta Quadrants are there?"

Tom shook his head.  "That was Gaylorne.  She - well, I've always
thought of her as a she, but she was a R'taian."

"An androgynous species."

"And she was a master of disguise so even I never was really too sure
what she looked like.  So I made her appearance that of a Talaxian.  I
figured it would be a comfort to Neelix to have another of his kind
here.  Seven years ago, she and I were captured while on a Mission and
she died during torture."

"And Siobahn?"

"Sunfire," Tom whispered, eyes on the red headed woman who had been
intended to be Naomi and the children's teacher.  "She wanted kids but
The Protectors wouldn't permit her to have any.  It would tie her down
and they couldn't have used her as easily.  This was my way of giving
her some."

Only Tuvok being called to a disturbance in Sandrine's broke the
silence into which they lapsed.

---

Having been listening in to the conversation on the Holodeck, Sunfire
was surprised by Tom's words and was greatly moved.  How he had known
of her yearning for children, she did not have a clue, but somehow he
*had* known.  Knowing that he did, she wondered what else he knew
about her and if he also knew the man she wished had been the father
of those much-desired children was himself.  Ironically, whether he
did know it or not, in creating the "kids" he had, in a manner of
speaking, become her children's father.  And sadly, the way his life
was unfolding, it seemed Fate meant for them to be the only children
he ever would have.

---

Sunfire was not the only eavesdropper.  She was listening too and she
was certain so was her little shadow.  Turning her head ever so
slightly, she confirmed it.  The dark haired little boy *was* back. He
stood close to Tom, almost touching him.  If one discounted the half a
dozen planes of existence between Tom's and her and the boy's, the boy
might as well have been snuggled up to him.

*You ready to tell me who you are?* she asked him.

Clearly the answer was negative.  He turned to her, gave her a long
look then vanished.

'This is getting tedious,' she sighed.

---

"Okay, let's take a break," Harry sighed and lowered his clarinet to
its stand, "then we'll try it again."  He headed for the replicator.
"You want anything?"

Setting her oboe on the soft cloth spread across Harry's coffee table,
Sue Nicoletti shook her head.  "I'm fine, thanks.  We should be
wrapping up anyway.  Alpha shift must be over by now."  She gestured
to the wall between Harry's quarters and those of Pablo Baytart next
door.  "He'll be wanting to get some sleep soon."

"He's on duty for Beta shift."

"I thought you said he was on Gamma shift.  That was why were
practising during Alpha.  We figured he'd be out of his quarters and
down in shuttle maintenance trying to get a date with-"

"I saw him in the corridor just before you got here," he interrupted,
retaking his seat with a glass of pale green liquid in his hand.  "He
told me he's pulling another shift because the Commander changed the
schedule for the Helm."

"How'd Pablo tick him off?" she grinned.

"He didn't."

"Then why the shift change?"

Placing his glass on the table, Harry ignored the question.  "Shall we
try the piece again?"

Sue placed a delicate hand on his instrument before he could raise it
to his mouth.  "Harry, what's going on?"

He gave her a blank look.

"Come on.  Tell me.  Something has you upset.  You've not been playing
like yourself today.  Not even close.  I know it's been almost two
weeks since we've had a practice, but you couldn't have become this
rusty this fast.  You're distracted by something and I think I know
what it is."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar, Harry Kim."  She carefully removed the
clarinet from his hands and returned it to its stand.  "Harry," she
said softly, taking his hands in hers, "I'm speaking as your friend
here.  You haven't been yourself for some time now and you need to
talk to someone about it."

He pulled away.  "Look, I just forgot to tell you about Baytart's
shift change, okay?  Let's not make a big deal out of this.  I've been
too busy to practice.  Engineering's needed a hand and-"

"I'm not talking about any of that and you know it.  I'm talking about
you and Souris or Allegia or whatever her name really was."

"I don't want to discuss it," he bit out and stomped off into his
bathroom.

Sue followed and stood in the doorway as he washed his face.  "You may
not want to discuss it, Harry, but you need to.  I saw you with her. I
saw how much you were starting to care for her."

Towel in hand, he whirled around.  "'Starting to care for her'?  I
*loved* her!"

"Maybe.  I don't know if feelings that deep can develop that fast.
I've certainly never experienced it. But she's gone, Harry, and you're
still here.  You need to remember that."

"You're telling me to forget her?  She's only been dead seven days and
you're telling me to *forget* her?"

"I'm telling you that keeping on as you have isn't doing you any good.
Yes, you two appeared to find happiness together and unfortunately it
was all too brief, but you're still alive.  It's time you remember
that."

"I think you should leave."

"Why?  Because I am telling you exactly what you know is true? Because
you know it's affecting your work and your relationships with
everyone?"

"It is not."

"Isn't it?  You don't smile anymore, Harry.  You don't have fun.
You're detached from everything that is going on around you."  She
gave him a sympathetic smile.  "We all know you've lost someone you
cared about and that hurts enormously, but don't shut us out. You
always talk to someone when something bad-"

She broke off as the answer to everything suddenly revealed itself to
her like a ship decloaking.

"This isn't as much about losing her as it is about losing Tom Paris.
He's the one you usually talk to about these things only he..."

Harry pushed passed her saying: "Yes, he is."

Sue sighed, momentarily slumped against the doorframe then
straightened and came over to him where he was standing, staring out
the window at the stars streaking.  Slipping in front of him, she did
something she never had done before yet seemed very apropos at the
moment.  She slipped her arms around him and leaned her forehead
against his chest.  "I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered.

For a long minute, he remained stalk still then his own arms encircled
her slight frame and he held on to his friend for dear life.

---

"Kenneth?"

The Doctor "tiredly" dropped into an easy chair.  "Yes, it's me,
Charlene."

His wife appeared from the study, still in her business suit, minus
the jacket, and a padd in her hand. "You okay?"

Sighing, he leaned his head back into the chair.

Dropping the padd onto the dining table, she went to perch on the arm
of his chair.  "What's wrong?" she asked, taking his hand and holding
it between hers in her lap.

He squeezed her hand.  "It's Mr. Paris."  He went on to relate what
had happened that day with the Wildmans and with the Captain and about
his assistant being removed from Sickbay and the Helm indefinitely.

"You know the worst part?" he murmured.  "I sort of feel relieved he's
gone for a while."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with the idea of
someone with his history helping save lives.  I can't help it.  Part
of me actually agrees with them."

"The ones who are scared to come to Sickbay as long as he's there?"

"Yes.  They're not the only ones who wonder if he's going to suffer
flashbacks and lose control.  How am I supposed to concentrate all my
skill and attention on my patients if at the same time I'm having to
watch my assistant for signs of psychosis?"

"Kenneth, do you honestly think it's possible he'll regress?"

"I don't know."

At first he stiffened as she released his hand.  Automatically he
thought his wife was angry at his admission and was trying to move
away from him.  Then he relaxed against her as she instead shifted
closer and placed an arm behind his head to draw him to her chest.

Soothingly, she stroked his nape.  "Kenneth, I may not know him as
well as you do," she softly told him, "but the man who's come to
dinner here, supported us when Belle died, helped us handle Jeffrey
and his friends' teenage rebellion... I just don't see him as the
horrible person everyone else apparently does."

"Even though he admitted to all of it?"

"Even though."  She laid a kiss on his balding pate.  "I understand
your worry, I really do, but is it really necessary?  He's a strong
man.  You've said so more than once after his stays as your patient.
'Survived when anyone else wouldn't have' you've said.  Has he lost
any of that strength or determination to survive?"

"No," he sighed.  "I don't think so."

"He needs all the friends he can get right now, Kenneth, not
isolation. Don't pull away from him. Especially not after everything
he's done for us."

He tilted his head up and looked deep into his wife's eyes.  "How'd
you get so smart?" he murmured.

She sent him a sly grin.  "Obviously not from you."

"Oh really?"

When their son, Jeffrey, and his Klingon friends, Larg and K'Kath,
entered the house a moment later it was to find Jeffrey's parents
laughing and making out like a pair of teenagers in the easy chair.

"Parents," the teenage human groaned and led his friends to his room.

---

"You really ought to sleep, Sunbird." Sunfire insisted, lowering the
volume of the Twentieth Century rock 'n roll he had playing as
background noise.

He did not look up from the components he was soldering together on
the lab table.  "Why?  It's not like I officially have anything to do
tomorrow.  I've been relieved of duty, remember?"

"Yes, I remember, but you still need sleep."

"I'm not tired," he maintained, reaching for a scanner to check his
work.

"That is a big, fat lie and you and I both know it."

"Sunfire, I have a lot to do to get ready for-"

"I know, but you have to keep up your strength.  What good is what you
have planned if when you reach the Alpha Quadrant you're timing is off
because you're too tired?  It is going to take split second timing and
I can only do so much."

Knowing she was right, he rested his head in his hands.  He had to be
well rested or he would screw up and then where would they be?

But he did not want to go to bed.  He knew what would happen: the same
thing that had happened every night lately, the nightmares.
Desperately, he wanted to avoid them, so desperately he actually had
considered taking a neural suppressant so he would not have to dream.
The only thing making that less tempting was he did not know how it
would react with his damaged Implant. With the way the legendary Paris
luck had so publicly deserted him, he probably would fry his brain
even further if he tried to use the suppresser.

"Sunbird?"

"Okay, okay," he sighed.  "I'll go to bed, Mommy."

"Good."  There was a smug smile in her voice and it made him smile a
little as he returned his tools to their rightful compartments.

"You're a pain in the butt you know."

Her "smile" increased.  "Yep."

As he passed through the doorway, he rubbed a wall affectionately and
Sunfire moaned inaudibly.

---

Chakotay knew something odd was going on with B'Elanna the moment he
entered her quarters the next morning.  The near hyperactive way she
was moving about, the flush to her skin, the brightness in her eyes, a
part of his mind dimly recognized the signs as something important yet
could not remember why or what they meant.

"B'Elanna, are you okay?"

"Yes.  Fine," she insisted, not halting her furious scouring of her
already spotless dining table.  "Now what did you want to talk about?"

He took a deep breath.  "B'Elanna, the reason I'm here is you've been
working your staff too hard."

That caused her to pause and look at him.  "What?"

"I was in the Mess Hall last night after Beta shift.  Three of your
staff literally fell asleep at their table. One of them ended up face
first in his meal.  When I woke them up and asked for an explanation,
they finally told me about the hectic pace you've been expecting
everyone to keep up lately."

"There's a lot to do," she argued, returning to her scrubbing.

"But is the situation down there so desperate you and your staff need
to work double shifts?  I thought there was not much more you could do
until we get supplies."

"Well-"

"Right?"

"Yes, but-"

Chakotay removed the cloth from her hands.  "Then there's no need to
ride your staff into the ground."

"What?!"

With his back to her as he walked over to the reclamation chute to
dispose of the cloth, he heard, yet did not see her respiration
increasing even further.

"Look, Chakotay," she angrily growled, sweat beginning to breakout on
her ridges, "there *is* a lot to do.  Who knows when the Gherop or
someone else will come along and attack again?  This ship has to be
ready when they do.  The fact a couple of people can't manage their
time adequately enough to get some sleep when they're off duty hardly
is my fault!"

When he turned, he regarded her with concern while he continued to
defend his argument.  "It should be your concern when it's hardly a
couple.  You've been acting like a slave driver for the past couple of
days. Even Vorik's starting to show the strain."

"Look, once we get to this planet..." Panting, B'Elanna braced herself
against the table as she began to sway.  "Once we get...."

"B'Elanna!"  Chakotay dove for her, barely catching her before she hit
the deck plates.  "Chakotay to Transporter Room.  Two to beam directly
to Sickbay."

---

For almost a minute Sunfire debated with herself.  Should she tell him
after how his so-called mate had treated him?  Would he really want to
know?  Unfortunately the answer to both questions was "yes."

"Sunbird?"

With nothing to do on Voyager, Tom had remained on Sunfire, picking up
work on his project where he had left off the night before.  This
time, however, he was not in his lab, but wandering around the
corridors of the ship, muttering to himself as he glared at the padd
in his hand.  As he had expected, he had slept little and his mood had
not been helped at all by encountering a snag in his project.

The muttering he was doing drowning out her first call so she tried
again.

"Sunbird!"

"What?"

"Lieutenant Torres has been beamed to Voyager's Sickbay."

Head snapping up, he gave her his full attention.  "How is she?"

On a monitor, she displayed the young woman's current readings.

"Dammit," he swore and tossed the padd to the deck.  "Beam me straight
there."

---

"I don't *know* what's wrong, Commander, or I'd be treating her, not
talking to you!" the Doctor replied in his most sarcastic tone as he
worked.

"Surely you must have some clue as to-"

"Well, I don't.  Her hormone and adrenaline levels are fluctuating
wildly. Her respiratory and cardiovascular systems are being heavily
tasked.  Frankly, if I didn't know better I'd say-"

"She's going through Pon Farr," Tom finished for him.  "Or at least a
version of it."

Blinking at the pilot's sudden materialization, both turned to him.

"But Vorik-"

Tom cut the Commander off.  "This has nothing to do with Vorik," he
clarified as he went to the counter in the corner of the room, "and
everything to do with Raven."  He loaded a hypospray with a sedative
then approached the biobed where his mate lay.

"What are you talking about?  Raven wasn't Vulcan.  And anyway he's
gone. Returned to the Alpha Quadrant with The Diogenes."

"But all the hormones B'Elanna unknowingly absorbed into her system
are still here. I was hoping our bond and her Klingon DNA wouldn't let
this happen, that the hormones would be flushed out of her system once
he wasn't here to keep administering them to her.  Clearly, I was
wrong and she was exposed to enough of them to cause problems."

Before they could form any further words, Tom neatly slid his thin
stiletto out of its sheath in his boot and sliced a gash in his thumb
with nary a wince.  After re-sheathing his knife, he used his
uninjured thumb to tip her chin down, parting her lips, then applied a
smudge of crimson to the inside of her lower lip. Releasing her chin,
he stepped back and curled the scored digit into his palm, eyes on her
readings.

Almost instantly, she began to stabilize.  Nodding to himself, he
administered the hypo to the side of her neck then returned it to its
place on the counter.

"I don't understand," the Commander finally admitted, staring first at
the now peacefully sleeping woman then at the man waving a dermal
regenerator over his cut.

"It's very simple, Commander," the EMH assured.  "So simple, I'm
surprised I didn't think of it myself. Raven tried to bond Lieutenant
Torres to him, but since she already was bonded to Lieutenant Paris,
the bond was not taking.  However, I'll wager she and Lieutenant Paris
have not mated since before Raven appeared...?"

Tom did not acknowledge the intrusive question.

Somewhat miffed, the Doctor continued.  "It finally did take, only
Raven was gone.  His absence meant things could not be taken to their
logical conclusion and she began to have an adverse reaction because
of it.  Same way Vulcans will if they are denied their mate or ritual
combat during their Pon Farr."

Not having the same preoccupation with mating practices as the
hologram, Chakotay still was attempting to wrap his mind around what
he had just witnessed.  "So you... 're-bonded' her to you?"  He made a
vague gesture to Tom's hand then B'Elanna.  "That's what all that was
about?"

"Unfortunately for her, it was the only option other than letting her
possibly die."  Tom drew more blood - this time without the using the
stiletto method - then walked back to them to hand the red vial to the
Doctor.  "The last of the hormones should have been eradicated from
her system once she tasted my blood so I doubt she'll need it, but
there's more in case she does.  When she awakens, she should be okay."

The EMH set the vial of blood carefully aside.  "Does this happen
every time he does this?"

"Only when dealing with a member of a species in which mates actually
*bond* to one another. Klingons, Vulcans, Heroon, and the like.  For a
time, the hormones he excretes overwhelm the victim's bond with his,
her or its mate and something like Vulcan Pon Farr is induced.  I'm
only aware of once before this that he's failed to mate with his
intended partner and he died."

Chakotay, still vainly attempting to keep up with the conversation,
tried not to look too confused or lost when he made his next comment.
"The intended partner did."

Though the Commander was not aware of it, the look of utter disbelief
Tom now gave him was the first honest and unguarded reaction the
younger man had offered anyone in days. "Of course the intended one.
Raven can do a lot of things, but rise from the dead is not one of
them."

"Well..."

Ignoring him, Tom lifted his hand to his combadge.  "Sunfire, I'm
ready to beam back."

"Just a minute, Lieutenant," the Doctor interrupted before Sunfire
could initiate the transport.  "Don't you have to... stick around?"

It was the blond man's turn to be confused.

"She's tasted your blood, re-bonded to you.  Isn't that usually a
precursor to-"

"I sincerely doubt that will be the case this time, Doctor."

It was the second time in as many days that Tom had called him
anything other than the friendly "Doc" he usually used and the
hologram stiffened.

"Since you obviously have forgotten, I shall remind you.  She knows
about my past - not all of the details, but enough to despise me
because of it.  Even if her hormones subdued her logic and we were to
mate, as you tend to phrase it, when it was over, she'd kill me with
her bare hands for letting it happen. She's mad enough at me as it is.
Don't expect me to compound it with yet another cruelty."

As Sunfire beamed him out, both Chakotay and the Doctor heard the
pilot's last, whispered words.  "For both of us."

---

"Commander!"

Chakotay stopped and turned as the Captain jogged down the corridor
towards him fifteen minutes later.

"How's B'Elanna?" she asked once she was beside him.

He checked to see they were alone then told her what had happened.
Understandably, she was taken aback.

"She'll be okay?"

"The Doctor seems to think so.  I stayed with her for awhile after
Paris left and she showed no signs of anything other than resting
comfortably."

"But when she wakes up..."

He shrugged.  "The Doctor doesn't know what... mood she's going to be
in. The sedative Paris gave her seems to be keeping her calm, but who
knows how long that'll last."

She sighed.  "Life's never easy around here, is it?"

"Nope."

"Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway," Kathryn's combadge chirped.

"Go ahead."

"Come to the Astrometrics lab immediately.  Ensign Kim and I have
found a supply of yatelite."

Shaking her head at their resident Borg's authoritarian manner,
Kathryn left Chakotay.

---

"Seven, you really need to learn more... polite speech patterns.  It's
the Captain's ship.  You can't keep ordering her and everyone else
around."

Seven neither spared Harry a glance nor made any comment.

Harry inwardly sighed.  She had been acting like this - cool, aloof,
and almost sulky - for days and it was beginning to get on his nerves.
At first he had thought she merely was disappointed at not getting to
the Alpha Quadrant or angry over what The Protectors apparently had
had in mind for her.  But that was before he had seen her with others
and realized she was acting her usual self with any of them.  For some
reason, he was the only one being subjected to the cold shoulder.

"Seven, when are you going to tell me what's wrong?"  He knew he was
all but whining yet it was how he felt.  For months he had enjoyed a
fine working relationship with this woman and he hated to see it
slipping through his fingers, especially without him knowing why. "Did
I do something?  Not do something?  Say something?  What?"

She straightened and at last looked him in the eye.  For a moment he
actually thought she was going to answer him.  The opening of the door
and the entrance of the Captain nipped that in the proverbial bud.

"So, you two, what have you found?"

"There is a small, uninhabited moon containing large deposits of the
ore needed," Seven told her.  "The largest deposit is only three point
two metres beneath the surface and extraction will not be overly
strenuous."

"Any indications of anyone having claimed it for their own?"

"None and the system is uninhabited.  There is evidence of a long dead
civilization on a planet two orbits in from the planet the moon orbits
but that is all."

"Good.  No one to argue with us if we start mining.  Once we've got
what we need from the planet ahead, we'll go get the ore."

"We can't wait that long, Captain," Harry interjected.

Janeway frowned and it only deepened as the ensign called up a
computer image to show her the moon's problem.  On the screen, there
appeared the system containing the celestial body in question and
right next door to it - galactically speaking - was a binary star
system containing a runt of a white dwarf in the process of going
nova.

"Is that system inhabited?"

"No, Captain."

"How long before it goes nova?"

"Four days, more or less."

"And how much of the surrounding space is going to be effected when
the star goes?"

Another graphic was overlaid and a simulation of what was to come
began. Even the simulation was breathtaking for Janeway who had seen
novas before.  There was the growing "bubbling" of the dwarf's surface
then the brilliant flash of light and the star's collapse.  The wave
it sent out incinerated the closest planet to the dwarf, shattered the
next three and their moons, and sent the last two planets careering
wildly while - mercifully for the other systems - remaining inside its
home system.

"It is spectacular, but-"

The Head of Astrometrics interrupted her.  "It is the radiation which
is of the greatest concern, Captain."

"The yatelite ore is not the only ore in the moon," Harry explained.
He tapped out a command and a close up view of the moon appeared then
blotches of many hues were overlaid. "The blue are the yatelite
deposits.  Purple is allemite."

"And when allemite is exposed to radiation it amplifies the radiation
to dangerous levels," Janeway sighed.

"Yes.  No matter how well shielded we are or how much hyronalin we
pump into the ship's ventilation to counteract the effects of the
radiation, it won't be enough."

"Precisely, Captain."

Staring at the screen, Janeway rubbed the back of her neck.  "Under
ordinary circumstances I'd order a course change and take us there."

"However the engines are not at optimum," Seven continued for her. "At
their current performance level, the ship would arrive only minutes
before the nova was at its height."

"And our largest shuttle would not hold enough of the raw ore to be
useful," Harry added.

"Have you detected any other sources of yatelite?"

"I afraid it's like deuterium is to this quadrant, Captain.  In short
supply."

"So we're at an impasse."

"Not exactly," Tom said.

Somehow none of them had noticed him beam in and take a position
holding up the wall near the door.

"Sunfire's cargo hold is large enough to hold twice what's needed. And
her engines are in perfect working order."

The Captain looked from Tom to the screen and back again.  "How many
people and how long would it take to set up this operation and mine
enough of the ore?"

"If they were to open one of the larger veins, three would be
sufficient to do it in nine hours, Captain," Seven supplied.

Tom nonchalantly folded his arms.  "So who get to be the unlucky
stiffs?"

Janeway frowned at Tom's phrasing.

"I doubt you'll find many who'll volunteer for the job," he clarified.

"Why not?"

"The moon's a little less than two days travel.  Be generous and give
a half a day to do the work.  By that time Voyager will already be at
the planet so two and a half days to rendezvous there.  That's about
five days alone with me."  He gave her a pointed look.  "You figure it
out."

"I think the crew can set aside any personal animosities and work on
this."

Tom did his best Tuvok impression and one golden brow headed for
golden hair.

"I am willing to accompany Mr. Paris," Seven declared gaining the
attention of both the Captain and Harry who had been glaring with
hostility at his former best friend.

---

In the end, Neelix also consented to joining the mission.  His
previous mining experience made him the logical choice to go, though
it did take him a few seconds to think about the Captain's request.
Those few seconds might well have been an eternity to Tom who stood
off to one side in the Ready Room and hid the hurt he felt at
reluctance from the normally eager-to-assist Talaxian. Instead, when
Neelix finally agreed to go, Tom turned to him and informed him they
would be leaving in thirty minutes and he should contact Sunfire when
he was ready to beam over and she would collect him.

As the cook/morale officer made a hasty exit, Tom attempted to do the
same only to be waylaid by the Captain.

"That hurts, doesn't it?"

"Captain?"

"The way everyone's reacting to you."

He stood up straighter, if that were possible.  "It's nothing more or
less than I would expect."

"Tom..."

"If you will excuse me, I would like to check on B'Elanna before I go.
We shall see you in five days at the planet."

He was out of the room before she could figure out what it was she had
wanted to say.

---

"Naomi, Neelix is here."

At her mother's call from the sitting area, the child ran out of her
room, one of her stuffed animals being dragged along with her by its
snout.  "Neelix!" As soon as he squatted down next to her, she hugged
his neck him.  "You going somewhere?"

"Yes, I have to go away for a few days."

"Can I come?"

"No," Neelix said, shaking his head.  "This isn't shoreleave, Naomi.
We're going to be doing some digging for some ore we need."

"I like to dig.  Tommy and I dig when we build sandcastles.  Moats and
stuff."

"This is a little different than that.  And it's in a very dangerous
area. You're much safer here on Voyager.  I'll be back in five days
then maybe you and I can go build some sandcastles.  Maybe this planet
we're going to will have some beaches and we won't have to go to the
Holodeck."

"Maybe," she conceded, clearly disappointed.  "Are you going in a
shuttle?"

"We're going in Sunfire."

She brightened.  "Tommy's ship?"

"Yes."

"Is Tommy going too?"

"Yes, and Seven."  Neelix stood, pressing a kiss to the top of her
head as he rose.  Immediately, the little girl raced out of the
sitting area of her and her mother's quarters and into her bedroom.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Sam asked him worriedly.  "You're
sure it's safe?"

He nodded.  "We'll be in and out of there long before the star -"

"I meant safe with him."

He thought about it for a moment then sighed.  "I don't know," he
sighed. "I mean he seems okay, but..." He shrugged.  "We'll have to
see."

Naomi rushed back in with a piece of paper covered with a crayon
drawing. "For Tommy."  She shot her mother a hostile look, clearly
daring her to snatch the gift from Neelix.

With Sam too taken aback by her little girl's show of rebellion to
react, Naomi's godfather did the only thing he could do and accepted
the gift.

Naomi exuberantly hugged his thick middle.  "Thanks, Neelix!"

Exchanging a look with the girl's mother, he nodded shortly then left.

---

"How is she?"

The EMH looked up from his scans of B'Elanna.  "She is recovering," he
said in his friendliest tone, remembering what Charlene had said about
Tom needing friends, not suspicions right now.  "Your course of
treatment was successful, *Doctor* Paris."

The joke fell flatter than his attempts at humour usually did.

Tom straightened the sheet covering the woman he loved.  That was as
close to touching her as he would permit himself for fear he would not
be able to let her go.  And he had to let her go.  His head knew that,
though his heart was having a tough time accepting the reality of the
situation.

"Neelix, Seven, and I are leaving Voyager for a few days.  Sunfire's
shields are re-enforced against all types of radiation, but we still
may need some hyronalin just in case.  You had plenty the last time I
inventoried Sickbay's supplies.  If you could spare some it would save
Sunfire from having to replicate it."

"Of course."

As Tom went to get two canisters of the gas from a cabinet, the EMH
followed him.  "Mr. Paris, I..."

Canisters in hand, the pilot looked at him.

"About what happened here earlier, about your being relieved of -"

"I don't have time to rehash old news, Doctor.  I am working under the
gun, or rather under threat of nova and radiation."  Tom jerked his
head towards the patient.  "The sedative I gave her should wear off
soon.  When you explain what happened, be careful.  She will not be
pleased. I'm sorry I won't be here to take the heat for it, but feel
free to tell her she can beat the Hell out of me for this when we
rendezvous with Voyager in a five days.  Sunfire?"

Tom shimmered out of existence not knowing the Doctor had been trying
to make peace with him.

---

"Your bunks are one deck down," Tom said a few moments later when
Seven and Neelix materialized on Sunfire.

For a long moment, they did not follow the man as he entered the
turbolift. Even Seven seemed to be somewhat entranced by the ship
around them.

Tom had not been exaggerating when he once had said this ship would
baffle Voyager's engineers.  She was unlike anything either of the
newcomers had ever seen before.  The only thing indicating they stood
on the bridge was the placement of what they assumed was the Helm in
front of the main viewer that showed they were travelling through
space at warp.  There were no Science stations, no Tactical, no Ops,
not even a Captain's chair.  Only a spindly-looking console and a
chair in a room of pale amber walls and darker amber carpet.

Confused by the spartan surroundings, they finally moved into the
lift.  The instant they were inside it moved of its own accord.

"Remember Sunfire is sentient," he told them.  "If you want something
just say so and she'll make it happen or help you do it."

As the lift stopped and they stepped out, Seven cocked her head.  "Is
that why there are no stations other than the one we saw?"

"No, Seven," he countered, leading them down the corridor.  "When this
ship was designed, it was just like Voyager or most any other ship. It
had a pre-programmed computer who did some of his own thinking, but
could not be considered sentient by any means."

"And *he* didn't mind being talked about as though *he* were not
here," Sunfire good-naturedly complained.

"Of course he also was not temperamental," Tom shot back at the
ceiling with a straight face.

"Humph."

"My quarters," he said nodding towards a non-descript door as they
passed it.  "And these will be yours, Seven, and yours are the next
door down, Neelix."

The door opened automatically as Seven approached it.  Inside was the
Borg alcove they had beamed over so she could regenerate during their
time away.  The remainder of the quarters were as bare as the Bridge
had been.

Tom preceded her inside and gestured to the dark amber, diamond shaped
panel on the wall to the left of the doorway.  A little smaller than
his hand it bore no markings. "Throughout the ship you'll see these.
They control drawers, counters, consoles, chairs, and so forth that
are hidden until needed.  If you wish to call them up manually, place
you hand near it and it will light up and offer you your choices."

He demonstrated by touching the uppermost tip of the diamond and a
section of one wall "dissolved" and a closet and drawers appeared.
Touching the right hand tip made a bunk slide out of another wall.
Fascinated, Neelix leaned closer, his eyes narrowed as he attempted to
decipher the markings.

"That language is unfamiliar," he remarked.

"Sorry.  Sunfire, can you switch to Earth Standard, please?"

The display metamorphosed into something the Talaxian could read.

"I was not familiar with that language either, Lieutenant," Seven
announced. "What was it?"

"AlphaOmegan Standard."

"You have your own language."

Tom shifted away from the diamond and the words vanished.  "Yes.  If
you'll excuse me, I'll get us underway.  Come up to the Bridge once
your gear is stowed."

At his rapid departure, the former Borg turned to the Talaxian for an
explanation for their host's departure.  He did not seem interested in
offering her one; he was too busy looking pensive.  Seeing he was not
going to be helpful, Seven made the bunk retract and strode over to
the closet to hang up spare outfit she had brought with her.

Without a word, Neelix wandered out and across to his temporary
quarters.

---

"Paris to Voyager.  We're ready."

Listening to the audio transmission, Janeway settled back into her
seat on her Bridge.  "Good luck then and watch out for Gherop.  We'll
see you in a few days."

The conversation ended without another word.  On the main viewer
Sunfire broke off from her parallel flight path with Voyager and
shimmered out of existence as she went to warp.

Not for the first time, the Captain wished Starfleet did not prohibit
cloaking devices and the power drain not so considerable that they too
could install one on Voyager.  It would cut down on the number of
altercations they found themselves in.

Sighing, she put those thoughts behind her.  Once they had the parts
they needed, they could complete the repairs, begin the alterations in
earnest, and be back in the Alpha Quadrant without any further need of
a cloak.  A smile broke out on her face at the thought of home.

Unfortunately some of the Bridge crew noticed the smile and
misinterpreted it.

By the end of the day, practically everyone on board had heard the
supposition the Captain was as happy to see the back of Paris as
everyone else was.

---

At that very moment Sunfire left, B'Elanna awoke.  Before she opened
her eyes, she wondered at the iron taste in her mouth.

Tom's blood.

She ran her tongue over the inside of her lips then over the lips
themselves.  Yes, that was what she tasted.  She felt the familiar
rush of heat she experienced whenever their lovemaking had shifted
from the gentle, "human-style" as she secretly had named it, to the
fiercer, "Klingon-style" during which breakage of furniture, body
parts, and certainly skin was not uncommon. Those times almost always
ended with the quarters they were in looking a shambles and she and
Tom with fresh bite marks on their cheeks and elsewhere.

Automatically reaching out for her lover, she encountered nothing but
air to one side of her and more of the same to the other.  Groaning,
she pried her eyes open and was in for a bit of a shock.

'Sickbay?' she thought.  'What am I doing in Sickbay?'

"How do you feel, Lieutenant?"

She turned her head to see the Doctor standing a metre away, watching
her. "What happened?" she whispered in a rough voice.

He outlined what had brought her there and how she had been cured.

B'Elanna blinked at him and seemed to become slightly more lucid.
"Repeat that?" she asked, with little inflection.

Slowly, he explained it all again.  This time she seemed to
understand.

All things taken into the consideration, she took the news of Tom's
method of saving her life rather well.  The explosion the hologram had
expected did not materialize nor did the signs of wild desire for her
mate.  The elevated hormone levels were present, but not
uncontrollable, and her actual response was to stare calmly at him,
thinking, for a long moment then to close her eyes without comment.

"It was the only way to save your life, Lieutenant.  If there had been
another way to save you, I think he would have been the first to
advocate it.  He knew you'd be angry at his doing this, but your life
was on the line and there wasn't-"

"When can I leave Sickbay?"

"Your readings are all pretty much normal now so-"

Slowly, she sat up and swung her legs off of the side of the bed.

"But you're to go to your quarters and rest some more.  I don't want
you back on duty until tomorrow."

"I have too much to do."

"It will have to wait, Lieutenant.  You're not cleared for duty until
tomorrow," he repeated for emphasis.

Refraining from the grumbling she wanted to do, she pushed herself off
of the bed, had to steady herself for a moment, then started for the
door.

"And if you want Lieutenant Paris..." He checked the computer.  "He
just left on Sunfire so you'll have to wait until he, Seven, and Mr.
Neelix rendezvous with us in a five days."

B'Elanna heard only the first part of the Doctor's comment with its
double entendre as she exited. Did she "want" Tom Paris?  Yes, she did
yet her mind was able to exert some control over her biology and deny
her what she wanted until she figured out whether her head wanted him
as much as the rest of her did.

'I need a clear head,' she thought, stepping into a turbolift and
calling for her deck number.  'I need time to think about everything
that's happened with Tom and Raven and-' B'Elanna stopped.  'Raven.'
Before she had ended up in Sickbay, she had not been able to think of
Raven without a surge of frustrated sexual desire.  Now she felt only
a frustrated *murderous* desire over what he had done to her and to
Tom.

'As soon as we get to the Alpha Quadrant, Tom and I are going to make
him wish he'd never messed with us,' she vowed.

---

Harry rang the doorchime twice then overrode the lock and entered the
quarters.  Once inside he found a clearly muddled B'Elanna standing in
the middle of the sitting area.

"B'Elanna, what are you doing in here?" he asked quietly, trying not
to startle her.  "When I went to Sickbay, the Doctor said he'd
released you only a minute earlier and you were going to your
quarters, but when I check I find you here in Tom's."

"I don't know why I'm here," she confessed in a small voice, still not
looking at him.  "I was in the turbolift, on my way to my deck, when I
started to think about getting revenge on Raven for what he did to me
and Tom.  The next thing I know is I'm here thinking I have to see Tom
and to thank him for saving me."  She turned her head and looked
around the room.  "He's not here, Harry."

"He and Neelix and Seven left on Sunfire a few minutes ago, B'Elanna.
Seven and I found a moon with a deposit of yatelite and they've gone
to get some."

"Oh."

"B'Elanna, are you okay?"

As she finally looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, she shook
her head.

Harry crossed the distance between them and took her in his arms.
Gratefully, she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in
his jacket front.  "B'Elanna, from what I overheard the Captain and
Chakotay say, you were very sick.  You need to get out of here and go
back to your quarters and rest. Being in here, thinking about him, is
the last thing you need."

"I need Tom," she whispered hoarsely.  In the war between her body and
her head, the body was edging out in front.

"No, you don't.  You're better off without him."

She jerked away and glared at him through her tears.

"B'Elanna, you said so yourself.  After everything he's done, you
didn't want anything to do with him ever again."

"I know what he's done!  My head knows, but my heart doesn't seem to
care. To it, he's still my mate and will be till we die."

"But I thought you two hadn't taken the Blood Oath."

"We haven't, but we're still bonded.  No matter what he's done, we're
still mates," she cried and collapsed onto the couch, face in her
hands, sobbing.

Harry knelt in front of her, hands trying to comfort her by rubbing
her back.  She dropped her hands and leaned into his shoulder, arms
going around him again.

"Why am I like this?" she cried.  "I'm never like this."

"You've been sick.  Everybody, even you, can get emotional when
they're sick."

They stayed like that, with his quiet reassurances interspersed with
her tears, until long after Harry's knees began to protest.

---

Neelix tapped the control to cause the bed to appear and set his large
case on its surface as soon as it slid out from the wall.  To his
mind, he had not brought much with him.  There was just a change of
clothing, his pillows, the blankets his mother knitted for him, and
the selected works of Jurex.  Only what he felt he needed to ensure
his comfort.  He released the catch on the case to remove the items
and was confronted with the drawing Naomi had wanted him to give Tom.

He stared at it, debating, for a long moment then he opened a drawer
in the wall and laid the picture inside, out of sight.

---

"Yes, I'Nu?"

The Gherop clerk hurried up to his superior's desk.  "Voyager is about
one interval's travel away, E'Arte."

The male who held all of Rachar in a tight fisted grasp smiled.  "And
the preparations?"

"Will be complete by the time they arrive."

"Good."  He returned to his reports.  "Oh, and pick out another random
dozen to execute in the main square."

"E'Arte?"

The dark grey eyes lifted once more.  "As an example."

"But you ordered a dozen executed as an example just yesterday."

The eyes narrowed.  "Are you getting soft on the Rachar, I'Nu?"

"No, E'Arte," the younger Gherop hastened to clarify.  "I merely was
thinking of the workforce.  Given T'Do's last communiqu� about
production falling behind even further-"

"I am in control here, not T'Do."

"But-"

"If I give you an order, you carry it out.  You will leave production
problems to me.  Once we have Voyager, the Verta will not be around to
cause any more setbacks.  The rebels will be crushed and we finally
will be able to get back on schedule."

"Yes, E'Arte."

As I'Nu left to reluctantly carry out his superior's order, E'Arte
glared at Zji who was standing quietly in a corner until needed.

"Get me some more of the Afga fish from my morning meal."

"I will have to go to the market for more," she said softly.  "It only
stays fresh for a short time and what was left is spoilt by now."

He would have liked to have had a good shout at her for that, even
though it was something that was beyond her control.  The bleep of the
communications console on his desk prevented that.  With a jerk of the
hand, he indicated she was to go and he answered his call.

---

A wrapped bundle of Afga fish in her basket, Zji slipped in and out of
the crowd of on- and off-duty Gherop and their Rachar slaves.  Seeing
how her people were being used and abused caused a dull ache in her
hearts, however it hurt most of all at times like this, when she
walked amongst them.

Her mind flew back to the stories her mother had told when they both
had been together in their hiding place with the others, safe from the
Gherop soldiers who searched for them.  Then, in a time seemingly like
aeons ago now, Zjna had told her of the time before the Gherop came
with their false offers of friendship, before they seized power and
the dark times for Rachar began.

"All of you are too young to remember when Rachar last was peaceful,"
her mother had told her and the other children nestled in their
makeshift beds in the dimly lit cavern. "Back then ours was a mostly
agrarian society.  We were without a single person still alive who had
firsthand memories of the last war fought on our world.  All
remembered the horror of war through the stories kept alive so none
could forget. At least that was what we thought."

She had sighed heavily.  "We Rachar had become complacent over the
intervening years.  We had begun to assume peace was a right, not a
privilege.  The stories of our past became just that - stories.  They
ceased to be real to us so when the Gherop came, we were not on our
guard. We believed their lies because we naively assumed they were
telling the truth.  The thought anyone might be anything other than
what they seemed never occurred to us.  By the time the Gherop
revealed their true purpose, it was too late."

Straightening her already aristocratic bearing, she had given each of
the children a look filled with determination and resolve.  "But we no
longer shall be complacent.  We shall overcome the invaders and be a
free peoples once more.  Even if it means only one Rachar is left
alive to see it."

Zji had loved it when her mother was like that, animated and with a
voice full of strength and confidence.  It had made it easier for her
to "see" her mother as the beauty she had been before her body had
been broken and her lovely face scarred.  It also made the stories
Zji's bodyguard at the time had whispered to her in private about her
legendary mother seem all the more plausible.

'And I will not fail you,' she silently renewed her long ago made vow
and wandered off to find her contact to pass along her datacrystal of
information.

---

"Vorik?"

The young Vulcan jerked as Lieutenant Carey caught him staring into
nothing. "Yes, Lieutenant?" he responded, straightening his posture.

"What is it?" Joe asked.  He watched the ensign remove a newly
replicated part from one of the Engineering replicators and add it to
the pile the crewwoman he had just relieved had been erecting.  "It's
not like you to be daydreaming."

"I was not daydreaming, Lieutenant.  I was contemplating the
possibility the inhabitants of the planet will not be able to furnish
us with the raw materials or replacement parts we require."

Joe nodded, though not believing his fellow engineer for a second.
'Vulcans are too mentally disciplined to daydream,' he was sure Vorik
would answer if pressed.  "So you're wondering what the back up plan
would be if our scans are wrong about their resources?"

"Going elsewhere to find and/or mine the raw materials to create what
we need would be the logical course of action.  Like the yatelite
expedition."

Sighing, the temporary Chief Engineer ran a hand through the hair at
the back of his neck.  "Too bad we couldn't just replicate it too."

"It would require too much time and too much energy to replicate even
an inferior grade of yatelite," he reminded him then spouted off the
lengths of time and required energy outputs for the replication of the
various grades of yatelite and it's cousin dilithium.

"I should never have told you I got the figures wrong on my first exam
at the Academy and I had to write them out by hand a hundred times." A
glazed look came over his eyes.  It was the universal sign of someone
fondly remembering a past lust.  "Of course it did give me an excuse
to spend some time alone with Foxy Loxy while she checked my work.
Did you ever have her when you were at the Academy?"

"I believe I told you the last time we spoke on this topic that
Professor Loxworth was on sabbatical the semester I took her course
therefore I had her substitute, Professor Mullet."

"Ah, yes.  You don't know what you were missing, Vorik.  When she
started the unit on alternate fuel sources to dilithium she got so...
excited.  I swear almost all the males in the class nearly had an or-"

"I have heard the Professor was very ardent about her field of
expertise and also of the reaction of heterosexual males to her
appearance.  I wonder if it was her research into potential
substitutes to dilithium that led the AlphaOmegans to think of using
yatelite to fuel a ship going through a Gopher Hole?"

The mystery slowly brought Joe out of his happy memory.  "Maybe.  She
was the first to suggest studying it for possible use it in place of
dilithium.  Starfleet probably would have thought seriously about it
if they hadn't just signed a major treaty with the Vashne for
dilithium mining rights to one of their planets.  It was too late to
back out of the agreement and the Vashne would have gone on the
warpath if they had.  That was the last thing Starfleet wanted or the
neighbouring systems needed."

"They would have been a formidable foe."

"Still," Joe said, returning to the original subject, "it would have
been simpler if we had been able to replicate what we needed."

"And Mr. Paris, Seven of Nine, and Mr. Neelix would not have needed to
make their trip."

The second-in-command of Engineering sighed.  "Frankly, I think some
time without his presence is exactly what this crew needs."

"Yes, I have heard the crew expressing their increase enjoyment of
mealtimes without Mr. Neelix's inclusion of leola-"

"I meant Paris."

"I see.  Yes, many of the crew have commented on their relief at his
absence also."  Vorik cocked his head.  "It is strange.  Prior to her
staying in Sickbay, Lieutenant Torres was most hostile regarding any
mention of his name yet when I saw her and Ensign Kim in the corridor
only a few minutes ago-"

"I thought she still was in Sickbay."

"As did I, however it seems she was released two hours ago with
instructions to rest until tomorrow." He lowered his voice.  "And I
must say, Lieutenant, she did appear in need of that rest.  Her eyes
were rather bloodshot and somewhat swollen."

Carey frowned yet said nothing and Vorik continued with his thought
prior to being interrupted.

"She and I spoke briefly about our progress while she was absent and
during the discussion she made reference to Lieutenant Paris five
times without a hint of anger."

"Obviously she's still under the influence of medication.  It's
putting her in an artificially mellow mood. Once it wears off, she'll
be back to her usual self.  You'll see."

"Other than the fact she had bloodshot and swollen eyes and that she
was not as energetic as she has been the past few days, I saw no
indicators of mental impairment.  Her speech patterns were not
garbled. Her balance and motor skills were one hundred percent.  Her
pupils were not abnormally dilated or contracted.  There was no
noticeable reduction in her cognitive functions-"

"Regardless, she has to be."  His tone brooked no opposition.  "There
is no way she could feel anything other than contempt for him.  He
lied to us for weeks.  Never warned us what might happen if they ever
came after us or we made it home...."

"There is no evidence the AlphaOmegans would have resumed their plan
to kill all the Starfleet personnel and since the Maquis is no more
there would not have been anyone to hand Voyager over to if they had."

Carey could not argue with this logic therefore he unconsciously fell
back on the typical response of someone feeling his, her or its side
of an argument crumbling - anger and accusations.  "You sound like
you're on his side.  Are you, Ensign?"

"If you are asking if I approve of his past actions, I cannot answer
as I do not possess all the relevant facts."

"He's never denied what he is.  What more do you need?"

"Corroboration of his statements regarding his willingness or lack
there of in performing the acts to which he is confessing.  If he is
telling the truth about the conditions under which he performed them,
then I do not see the logic in blaming him for doing that which he was
conditioned and ordered to do."

Emotion refusing to permit him to see the rational point of view, the
human shook his head at the Vulcan's naivete and walked away.

Shrugging, Vorik returned to his task.

---

"Your companion is dead," his fowl-breathed captor hissed next to his
ear.

There was a gesture then the limp corpse of Gaylorne was brought in
and unceremoniously dropped on the deck.  The head rolled towards the
prisoner to show empty sockets where the lifeless eyes should have
been.

"Perhaps now that you see I am serious when I say I mean to have the
information.  You might save my time and your suffering by speaking
now?"  After an unbroken pause, the captor shook his head and stepped
away from the naked human shackled by his feet to the deck and his
hand to the ceiling in the middle of the room.

Clearly at some motion from their superior, the two who had brought in
Gaylorne exited, leaving her where she lay.  Meanwhile, behind the
prisoner, there was the now familiar sound of the whip being uncoiled.

Then came yet another in a long line of blows.

"Speak!" the captor yelled.

The prisoner's determined silence barely was maintained.

Another lash across an already torn and infected back.

"Speak!"

This time the prisoner had to clamp down on his teeth lest he comply.

Another lash.

"Speak!"

Reflexively, his mouth opened then was shut to contain the scream
welling up inside him.

Another lash.

"Speak!"

Blood flooded his mouth as his teeth sliced into the flesh which
accidentally had been between the teeth when the mouth had closed.

Another lash.

"Speak!"

He let the scream out and in doing so the now severed flesh fell to
the floor at his feet.

Another lash.

This time the command to speak was not issued.

His captor saw and recognized what had fallen and because of it the
whip did not fall.  Knowing they would get nothing from him now, the
torturer angrily howled and threw the whip at the wall as he stomped
out, leaving the prisoner to bleed to death as he whimpered softly.

---

Seven stopped her regenerating and cocked her head.  Yes, she *could*
hear something, but it was muffled.  What was it?

She walked out into the corridor to find a sleepy Neelix also in his
doorway.

"What was it?" he yawned.

"I do not know.  It is coming from this direction."

They started down the corridor in the direction of Tom's quarters.

---

"Sunbird, you'd better wake up and pull yourself together.  Now!"

Tom awoke, still whimpering from his nightmare.

"Sunbird," Sunfire hissed again, "you are about to receive company."

Shaking, Tom rose from the tangle of covers on the floor and shoved
his trembling hands through his hair.  He went through to the bathroom
just as the door chimed.  After washing his face and swiping a brush
through his hair, he felt calm enough to answer the door.

Seven paused in fifth her stab at the chime.  "Mr. Paris, are you all
right?"

"Of course."

"We heard a noise," Neelix yawned.

"A problem with the sonic shower," Tom lied.  "I've fixed it.  You two
should go back to bed."

"But-" Seven began to object.

"Excuse me, I have things to do."

The pair watched as Tom slipped passed them and went off down the
corridor. Neither one believed him about the shower.  His demeanour
was suspect as was the fact he was still dressed and it was
exceedingly rare for one to shower in one's clothes.

---

The next day, Neelix and Seven entered the large storage room off of
the cargo bay to find Tom already had components for the refinement
lab unpacked and partially assembled.

"If you had informed me this was what you planned to undertake last
night, I could have assisted you," Seven said in her typical accusing
manner.

"I wasn't doing this all night," he denied.  "Just this past hour or
so."

He did not go on to explain what he actually had been doing for the
rest of the night therefore that mystery remained.

"Our ETA for the moon is 0635 tomorrow," he told them, returning to
his work.  "Neelix, if you'd like to double check the mining
equipment?  Seven, lend a hand here."

The Talaxian gratefully disappeared into the cargo bay next door,
leaving Seven alone with Tom.

The two of them worked in near silence for sometime.  Then the former
Borg came to a decision. "Lieutenant, may I ask you a question?"

Tom nodded to Seven though did not stop checking the calibration of
the portion of the lab he had just assembled.

"It is of a... personal nature."

That stopped him only briefly.  "What do you want to know?"

"It is about Souris and her mission with regards to Ensign Kim."

Mentally breathing a sigh of relief that the question was not about
him, he sat back on his heels and looked across the room to her. "What
about her?"

"Was she like Raven?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was it her mission to seduce Ensign Kim into falling in love with her
so she could obtain the greatest amount of information from him."

"No, Seven.  Apparently that was not her Mission."

Seven swallowed and stiffened.  "I see."

"You're... upset by what happened between them."

"I merely was concerned as to her mission."

He looked long and hard at her.  "In part, that's a true statement.
But you also are very jealous of the fact the two of them hit it off."

She opened her mouth to deny it or more probably change the subject
instead of issuing an outright denial.  Standing, he cut her off
before she could attempt it.

"Seven, sit down."  He reached over to a nearby console and tapped a
command.  Two chairs revealed themselves.  Reluctantly, she perched on
one as he relaxed into the other. "I know you have some sort of
feelings for Harry, Seven, just as he does for you.  What the nature
of those feelings are, you'll have to figure that out for yourself.  I
can't help you there.  What I can help you with is this: he's going to
need time.  Until she died, they never had had the chance to go
through any truly bad times so their... relationship always will have
this impression for him of being perfect. It's hard to forget
perfection."

"I do not understand."

"He may have had a rude awakening about who she really was and her
past, but to a part of him at least she always will be Souris, the
mysterious woman who said she loved him and was without the tragic
past Allegia had.  In time, he might be able to put it all behind him,
I don't know.  Until then he's going to be in a lot of pain and very
confused.  Harry's very emotional.  When he feels, it's intensely."

"I have heard the same about you."

Tom ignored this.  "He needs time to process everything that's
happened. Maybe place it in perspective."

"So your advice is to stay away."

"My advice is to be there as his friend, if he'll let you, but don't
expect anything more than that, *if* you decide more is what you're
wanting.  You have to be patient with him and wait for him to be ready
for more."

"I see.  Thank you, Lieutenant."

She rose and returned to her task.  A moment later, Tom did the same.

---

The rest of the day passed uneventfully for all on board Sunfire.  The
refinement lab was completely erected and double-checked.  The mining
equipment was all in order.  The containers for the growing holding of
the raw ore and those for the refined version were checked for flaws.
By the time of the evening meal everything was ready for their arrival
at the moon the next day.

The three of them ate a near-silent, replicated meal together in
Sunfire's small Mess Hall and all the while Neelix was agonizing over
how he would get out of socializing afterwards.  Tom saved him the
trouble of coming up with an excuse to leave by offering one himself.

"If you'll excuse me?  I have things to do.  If you wish, Sunfire does
have a holodeck you may use if you like.  I'll see you when we reach
the moon in the morning."

"Lieutenant?" Seven called as he headed for the door.  "Was there
something we overlooked in setting up-"

"No, Seven.  This has nothing to do with the expedition.  Excuse me."

The former Borg and the Talaxian exchanged looks.

"I have an extensive library of holoprogrammes," Sunfire chimed in,
"though they are of a training nature.  Combat simulations and such.
But I did download Voyager's entire database so I-"

"What is the lieutenant engaged in?  He left his quarters last night
claiming he had things to do then too. However, everything is ready
for the operation and the Captain was assured your systems were in
perfect working order."

"They are."

"So what is he-"

"That is his concern."  Sunfire knew she was being rude but justified
it to herself by saying Seven was rude first.

The rudeness - both her own and the ship's - rolled right off Seven's
catsuit enclosed back so that when they reached the moon the next
morning she was back to wanting to know what Tom had been up to that
night and the night before.

"Lieutenant Paris, Mr. Neelix," she nodded to them as she entered the
Equipment Room off of the cargo bay.  "Did you have a constructive
evening after you left the Mess Hall, Lieutenant?  You did not return
to your quarters until 0317."

Her comment interrupted Tom's happy memories of the last time he had
worn an EVA suit like the one he did now and of what B'Elanna had said
to him while he had been so attired.  Slightly annoyed, though hiding
it, Tom shot her a look and passed her a suit in her size.  "Keeping
tabs on me for a reason, Seven?  I can assure you I'm not about to
sneak into either of your quarters while you're regenerating or Neelix
is sleeping and murder you."

"I did not suspect that would be the case.  I wished to resume our
discussion of yesterday morning so I was listening for your return to
your quarters.  Just last week, I head the Captain chastising two
ensigns when one interrupted the other's work to discuss a personal
matter. Therefore, I chose not to interrupt whatever you were doing
but instead wait for your return."

"You should have spent your time regenerating."

"And you should have spent more time sleeping, Lieutenant.  I estimate
you spent less than two hours in bed before Sunfire announced we had
achieved orbit here."

He handed her suit's helmet to her.  "You should spend less time
worrying about me and more concentrating on the task at hand."  With
that, he affixed his own helmet and left them for the cargo bay.

'He does look tired,' Neelix thought, concerned.  'The circles under
his eyes are darkening each day. And his thinness is becoming more
pronounced.'  Of course, Tom always had been too thin by Neelix's
standards and for a brief time he had succeeded in fattening the human
up a little.  Over the past couple of weeks all of his hard work had
been undone and then some.  And he only had picked at his meal the
night before.

"Are you ready, Mr. Neelix?"

Blinking the errant concerns over a man of whom he was supposed to be
afraid, he nodded to Seven then slipped on his own helmet and followed
her into the cargo bay.

---

Seven and Harry's projections for the mining operation and Tom and
Neelix's refinements of the plan had been right on the mark.  The work
went quickly and without any surprises until they were five hours into
the job.

Tom could not have told anyone what had made him look up at that exact
moment.  Since there was no atmosphere on the moon, it certainly had
not been because he had heard any sound to alert him.  And with the
equipment they were using, it would have been exceedingly difficult to
have isolated the relevant vibration and know what it signified.
Regardless of how he did it, the fact remained that he did look up
just in time to save Neelix's life.

"Neelix!" he yelled as he used his long legs to shove off of the
surface and fly through the thin gravity towards the Talaxian.  He hit
him squarely in the midsection sending him flying a split second
before the rock wall behind him gave way covering the space where he
had stood.

With Seven's assistance, Neelix picked himself up off of the ground at
the foot of their mining pit's opposite wall.

"Are you damaged?" she asked him.

"No, I don't think so.  Tom- Tom!"

Lying on the ground, legs covered with rubble was Tom Paris,
unconscious.

---

When Tom awoke in Sunfire's Sickbay twenty minutes later it was to see
Neelix removing a hypospray from Tom's neck and Seven standing behind
him with a tricorder.

"I can't feel my legs," he groaned.

"They are broken," Seven supplied.  "We had to temporarily
anaesthetize them."

Neelix clutched the hypo to him in worry.  "They're pretty bad and
neither one of us knows enough medicine to fix them properly."

Tom nodded.  "Sunfire, give me a heads up display of the scans."

A near transparent hologram reflecting the tricorder's readings
appeared and hovered thirty centimetres over Tom's face.  He lifted a
hand and touched the "keypad" on the hologram and it altered to show a
more in depth view.

"Okay, it's not as bad as it looks.  Sunfire, can the two of them
finish the mining in time?"

"Not by my calculations," she answered.

"Then someone will have to fix me up.  I can't do it myself.  Who
wants to do the honours then?"

"I will," Neelix volunteered.

Tom took a long look at the still shaken male.  "Neelix," he smiled
disarmingly, "all due respect, but you're shaking like a leaf.  I
think Seven should do this."

Not liking having to forgo an opportunity to help the man who just had
saved his life, Neelix nonetheless saw Tom's point and stepped aside.

"Okay, Seven, this is what you have to do...."

---

B'Elanna Torres suddenly awoke from an already restless sleep. Peering
through the dim illumination the red light bars over the bed emitted,
she saw no obvious reason for her sudden awakening.  Or the sharp pain
in her legs.  B'Elanna gently massaged them, thinking them to be
having cramps of some sort.  She *had* been crawling through Jefferies
tubes all day her fuzzy mind recalled. Eventually the strain had to
catch up with her.

Yet this felt different, not like cramps at all.  She was about to
drag herself out of bed to go to Sickbay so the Doctor could check her
out when the pain suddenly dissipated. Shrugging, she snuggled down
further under the covers and burrowed her face into the pillow,
inhaling Tom's scent.

She knew if anyone found her in his bed there would be many questions
yet she did not care.  This was where she felt compelled to be, in
Tom's bed wearing one of his T-shirts and wrapped in his robe with her
nose buried in his pillow.  Even if Harry was right and what she was
feeling right now was due to Tom's rebonding with her it did not
matter to her.  For now this was what she needed and when Tom
returned, then they would talk and decide where they would go from
here.  True, she still hated the revelations about his past and what
he was and that would not change, but maybe they could put it into
perspective and get passed it.  With Raven's spell over her broken,
she began to remember Tom and realize he was what she wanted more than
anything, even his horrible past seemed not to matter so much anymore.
If only he were here so she could tell him.

---

"Lieutenant, you must rest.  You are fatigued."

Too tired to argue with Seven, Tom sat on the closed lid of one of the
many boxes of ore almost filling Sunfire's hold.  "How much more do we
need?" he panted.

"Two more boxes should be sufficient," the ship responded.

"How long until we have to make ourselves scarce?"

"Four point seven hours."

Tom heaved himself to his feet.

Concerned, Neelix hurried over to him.  "No, Tom, let Seven and I-"

"The sooner we're finished the better."

"But it was only a few hours ago Seven healed your legs.  You
shouldn't have gone right back to work."

"I'll be able to rest for over two whole days once we're done here.
Let's go."

Reluctantly, both Seven and Neelix gave in to their colleague and
Sunfire beamed them back to the surface once they had replaced their
EVA suits' helmets.

---

"And we have to..."

"B'Elanna?"  Janeway skirted her desk to help her Chief Engineer into
a chair.  "You okay?"

"I don't know," B'Elanna panted, lifting her feet off of the floor
just enough to relieve them of her weight.  "My legs feel like they've
run a marathon without the rest of me."

"Exactly how do they feel?"

"Tired.  Achy.  Weak."

"And it just started?"

Stronger twinge made her gasp and tell the truth.  "Off and on since
late last night."

"Late... You're going to Sickbay.  No arguments.  This could be
something to do with what Raven did to you.  Computer, two to beam
directly to Sickbay."

The Doctor hurried out of his office the instant the two women
materialized in the treatment area. "What's happened now?"

"B'Elanna's having problems with her legs," the Captain informed him
as they helped the half-Klingon up onto a biobed.  "They nearly gave
out on her in my Ready Room. Apparently they've been hurting her since
last night."

"I see," he murmured, scanning B'Elanna with a tricorder.  "Describe
your symptoms, Lieutenant."

"It's nothing serious," the patient insisted.  "I've been crawling
through Jefferies tubes a lot lately, that's all."

"Until I see your medical degree, Lieutenant, I'll rely on my own
judgement in medical matters, if you don't mind.  Now your symptoms?"

Briefly, B'Elanna confessed them.

"And why didn't you come to me last night?"

"Well, it went away so I didn't think-"

"It went away," he grumbled to himself.  "That seems to be the norm
with this crew.  'Well, it went away, Doctor, so I didn't think it
mattered anymore.'  Doesn't anyone think just maybe their bodies might
be trying to tell them something with all these aches and pains?"  He
glared at his patient.  "Next time something happens to you I want to
see you in here, Lieutenant.  I don't care if it is a hangnail, you
will get yourself in here.  Is that clear?"

A wave of pain hit B'Elanna and she nodded, clenching her teeth.

Frowning, the EMH ran the diagnostic wand over both her legs then up
her body and waved it back and forth over the top of her head.  He
stopped frowning, folded up his tricorder, replacing the wand, and
then looked at B'Elanna.  "I want you to remove you uniform and lie
down, Lieutenant."

The women's eyes followed him over to the replicator.

"Doctor, what's wrong with her?" the Captain asked, concerned.

He returned to the bed with two stacks of towels, one set damp and
warm, the other dry and fluffy. "There's nothing seriously wrong with
her," he answered truthfully as he helped remove B'Elanna's boots.
"I'm hoping these will make her comfortable.  If they don't I will
administer a mild painkiller."

"But why are my legs aching," the woman wanted to know.  "Is the
Captain right?  Is it something to do with what Raven did."

"Oh, no, it has nothing to do with him."  He went to a cupboard for a
Sickbay gown.  "Things happen and a body responds by manifesting all
sorts of ailments."

"What does that mean?"  The patient was becoming frustrated with the
absence of a definitive diagnosis. "*What is wrong with me?*" she
growled.

"Your legs are aching."

"Dammit, I told you that!  Why are they aching?"

"I can't give you a clinical explanation, Lieutenant," he finally
admitted as he slipped the gown over the now naked woman's head. "They
ache and I hope applying warm towels will ease that."

"That's it?  Can't you give me something to stop it?"

Once she was coaxed into a reclining position and the gown folded up
to the tops of her thighs, he shook his head.  "I want to try this
first and see what happens."

"But what is physically wrong with her?" Kathryn pressed.

"Nothing physically."

"So it's psychosomatic?"

"Yes."  There was a slight hedge to his voice.  B'Elanna missed it
though the Captain did not and he knew it.  He shot her a silencing
look as he expertly wrapped the younger woman's legs in the warm
towels then in a couple of layers of the dry ones.  Finally he
elevated each leg on pillows and covered her with a blanket. "Better?"

"A little," B'Elanna nodded.  "You're saying this is all in my head?"

"There is evidence your brain is sending signals to your legs to ache,
not the your legs aching and sending the signal to the pain receptors
in your brain to register the ache as normally happens.  For now, you
just rest here for a while and we'll see how you do.  You might find
the ache goes away all on its own."

"You have been through a lot lately," Janeway reminded her.  "Your
body might be doing this to tell you it wants a rest.  Give it one."

"But Engineering-"

"Can take care of itself for a while.  You rest."

After dimming the lights little, the Doctor addressed the Captain.
"May I see you in my office on an unrelated matter?"

"Of course."  She followed him into the office and assumed the chair
he indicated.

"How far away is Mr. Paris?" he asked.

"Provided everything went well, they should be ready to leave the moon
any time now, if they haven't already.  Why?"

He called up an entry in the medical database and flipped the desktop
computer around to face her. "There is every indication what is
happening to Lieutenant Torres is not actually happening to her."

"But she's-"

"It is happening to Lieutenant Paris."

"What?"

He tapped the entry on the screen with an index finger.

"'Shared pain'?  You think she is feeling the pain from something
that's happened to him?"

"Possibly.  I can't find a biological reason for her to be in pain.
You could of course be right about it merely being a warning from her
body to slow down. That often happens with people who push themselves
as hard as she does, present company included I might add."

She smiled ruefully though mercifully was spared one of his lectures
to slow down more and relax.

"Even with those who have a strong bond," he continued, "this does not
always happen.  Even in full Klingons."

"Yet you think it is happening with B'Elanna and Tom."

"When she last was in here, she woke up the instant he left.  I
checked the computer at the time because I was worried she might...
require his presence, but he had left on Sunfire only a moment
earlier."

"But the two of them never showed any indications of this before now.
Think of all the times Tom's been injured.  For quite a few of them, I
was with her at the time they occurred.  I can't ever remember her
reacting like this."

"If my theory is correct, Raven's partially to thank or blame for
this.  In breaking Raven's bond with Lieutenant Torres, Mr. Paris'
bond had to supersede Raven's as Raven's had Mr. Paris'.  In doing so
Mr. Paris' and Lieutenant Torres' bond - either the initial one or the
new one - mutated."

"Mutated how?"

"That I don't know yet.  As I say it is all theory, but if true and I
can prove it then I might be able to figure out the theory of 'shared
pain' and explain it scientifically.  Until now it's been considered a
parapsychological phenomenon, not a valid occurrence solely because no
one could explain, in precise scientific terms, why it happens in only
a few Klingons, not all."

"But will this last?"

"I'm not certain."

"And you're not even certain this *is* what's going on anyway."

"Well, no, but given everything that's happened to her over the past
two weeks, I don't think I can discount the possibility.  When Sunfire
returns, then we'll know for certain if Mr. Paris was indeed injured
and I can begin investigating in earnest."

Sensing the Doctor was about to embark on one of his "and when I
succeed in proving this, it will be yet another astounding feat which
will make me famous when we return to the Alpha Quadrant" speeches,
she wished him well and took her leave of him.  She was saying goodbye
to B'Elanna when her combadge chirped and her First Officer informed
her they were ten minutes from their destination.

"Acknowledged, Commander."  She immediately had to restrain the
patient. "No, you stay put."

"But Engineering's -"

"That's an order."

Patently not pleased, the woman subsided.

"B'Elanna, you know how First Contacts usually go.  All sorts of
diplomatic speeches have to be made, assurances of benign intent, et
cetera, et cetera.  You just stay here and do as the Doctor says until
he releases you.  If by some miracle we don't have to spend hours
hashing out all the protocol, your needs list for Engineering's done,
isn't it?"

"Yes," she pouted.

"Then Joe can give it to them as easily as you can, right?"

"Right."

Kathryn had to bite the inside of her cheek to hold back her smile.
There were times B'Elanna reminded her of Naomi Wildman when she was
sulking, though she knew neither would admit to ever sulking.  Not
daring to say anymore lest the smile escape, she patted the Chief's
shoulder and hurried out.

---

*Sunfire.*

'Hmm?' the resident of the small ship's computer acknowledged with
only partial attention.

*My people are ready to see him,' she informed the ship.  'You have to
bring him to these co-ordinates-*

The voice now had all of Sunfire's attention.  'Bring him...?  Just
how am I supposed to do that?'

*You're a ship.  Just take him with you.*

'I can't just kidnap him.'

*Then give him some reason.*

'Why do you want him so badly?  All you'd say was "there was a debt to
be repaid."  What debt?  To him?  To someone else?  What?'

*That is between us and him.*

'Well then getting him there is between you and him then too.  You may
have helped me save his life, but I'm not going to help you do
anything when I don't know your motives.'

*I told you-*

'Yes, but you haven't told *him*.  If you want him to go anywhere, ask
him to go.  Don't try and get me to help you unless you are prepared
to tell me what you're up to.'

*I can't speak directly to him yet.  Only when he comes to us can I do
that.*

'Then you had better get talking to me and convince me to help you,
hadn't you.'

*Sunfire-*

"Paris to Sunfire," the man in question called over his combadge.

"Go ahead," his colleague answered.

"The last load's ready to beam up."

She paused for a moment as she secured the boxes in her hold.  "Done.
You three ready to come up?"

"Neelix?  Seven?  Ready to go?  Yes, we're ready."

Sunfire beamed the three of them and their equipment into the
Equipment Storage Room.

"We're in.  Get us out of here."

"You got it."

A minute later, Tom, still in his EVA suit, minus the helmet, hobbled
onto the Bridge on aching and exhausted legs.  Neelix and Seven, still
similarly attired, followed.

"Tom, I really think-"

He cut Neelix off.  "I'll go rest in a few minutes, Neelix.  I just
want to check our course."

"Don't trust my flying, eh?" the ship quipped.

Painfully lowering himself into the seat at the Helm, he smiled.
"Nope."

"You just want to see the nova," she fired back.

"Guilty."

"Okay, young man," she begrudged in her humouring-mother voice, "you
can watch then it's right to bed with you, even if I have to beam you
there and erect a forcefield to keep you in bed."

"Yes, Mommy."

She offered the other two seats at the science stations along the
wall.  As they hastily departed the system at maximum warp, she showed
them a heavily shielded view of the phenomenon occurring eleven
minutes after they had gone.

It was so spectacular even Seven momentarily stared in awe of it. Then
in an instant, it was over. Thankfully, they were far enough away to
escape its effects.  The long-range sensors showed the planets and
moons of the system were not so lucky.  Precisely the manner in which
Harry and Seven's projections had predicted a planet was reduced to
cosmic dust, others fell to pieces, and still others wobbled wildly.

"The Captain's going to be sorry she missed this," Tom whispered,
stunned.

"You can show her the logs when we return home," Neelix insisted,
bustling over to Tom's chair. "Now you promised you'd go to bed."

"Sunfire, what's wrong with your cloak?" the pilot asked, consulting
the readings on his console.

"A relay is worn out," she explained.  "It can wait."

"I should-"

"I can repair it, Lieutenant," Seven informed him.

"It's of a special design.  I'll have to do it."

"It can wait," the ship insisted again.

"But if any Gherop ships or anyone else happen by, they'll see us."

"My shields are working fine.  And we didn't see any traffic on our
way here.  We'll be okay until after you've had a rest.  Now go!"

Neelix's placing two hands around one bicep indicated the shorter man
would not take no for an answer in this.  Reluctantly, the human rose.

'Gratitude is a very strange thing,' he thought as Neelix took one
side of him and Seven was motioned by the Talaxian to support the
other.  'Not two days ago, Neelix wanted nothing to do with me. Now
he's my keeper.'  He sighed inwardly and permitted the pair to assist
him to his quarters.

---

"Standard orbit, Ensign."

Baytart nodded as he complied with the order.  "Standard orbit,
Captain."

"They're hailing us," Harry called out.  "Audio only."

The Captain settled into her chair, padd she had brought with her from
her Ready Room resting in her lap.  "Let's hear it."

"Identify yourselves," was the terse demand.

"We're the U.S.S. Voyager.  I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway."

The video transmission kicked in and grey skinned and grey haired
alien visage appeared, looking somewhat shamefaced.  "Oh, sorry about
that."  It was the same voice as before only now it was amiable. "We
didn't recognize your design or markings so we had to be on our
guard."

"It's perfectly understandable," the Captain dismissed, smiling.

"Still, welcome to Rachar.  I am E'Arte, the leader here."  He frowned
to himself.  "Well, for the time being anyway."  His face brightened
again.  "How may we help you?"

"We are looking to obtain some food stuffs and things we need for
repairs to our ship."

He thought for a second.  "I'm sure we can work out some sort of a
trade. Naturally we've heard of your ship and of your fair trading
practices with others.  I'm certain we can work out some sort of
agreement."

"Good."

"I will need some sort of estimate of what you will need.  We don't
have a lot and we're in the midst of difficult times, but we should be
able to offer you something."

"Difficult times?"

"Internal problems.  There was a change in the government a few cycles
ago and a few still aren't accepting of it.  But that's our problem,
not yours.  If you'd care to come planetside with a list, I'll see
what I can do.  I'll serve lunch and you can see if the food we have
to offer is to your liking prior to trading for some."

"When we're ready we will contact you."

When the screen went black Janeway and Chakotay exchanged surprised
grins.

"He seems friendly," Harry smiled.

"Need I remind you, Ensign," Tuvok asked, "that first impressions can
be deceiving?"

Rising, Janeway cut off Harry's retort.  "Janeway to Carey."

"Carey here," Joe answered from Engineering.

"Meet Tuvok and myself in Transporter Room Two with Lieutenant Torres'
shopping list."

"Acknowledged."

Mounting the stairs, padd in hand, she looked at Harry.  "Keep a lock
on us at all times."

He nodded.  "Yes, Captain."

"Commander, you have the Bridge."

---

The party who beamed down ten minutes later found themselves on a
terrace overlooking the formerly beautiful gardens of the Rachar Royal
Palace.  Not knowing the overgrown vegetation was not how its
designers had intended it to look, they thought nothing of the unkempt
landscaping.  Even if they had, the smiling faces of the immaculately
dressed and well-scrubbed E'Arte and I'Nu would have distracted them.

"Captain Janeway, welcome.  This is my clerk, I'Nu.  You may give him
your list of requirements and he'll see what we can do for you."

Two padds were handed over.  One was Engineering's requirements and
the other was the Mess Hall's which Neelix had left with the Captain
when he went off with Tom and Seven. I'Nu accepted them with a slight
bow then retreated to his place a pace behind his superior.

"If you will follow me," E'Arte suggested and led them into the dining
hall.

The trio from Voyager did not know the flurry of preparations their
ship's eminent arrival had inspired. E'Arte knew were his plan to
succeed he had to win Voyager's crew over.  The intelligence he had
received about them indicated these visitors would find nothing but
faults with his people and conditions on Rachar as they had been.
Therefore much was done to bring things back up to standards
guaranteed to impress, not offend.

On the Gherop Homeworld and the majority of the other worlds under its
empire's control, elaborate and highly ceremonial manners and
behaviours were observed.  This had not always been the case.  It was
only since T'Do had ascended to the throne upon the mysterious demise
of his father and mother that these had become necessary and, for the
most part, despised.

The Gherop living on Rachar, however, had lapsed in their adherence to
these rules.  Those stationed there considered Rachar to be the
frontier.  A frontier was, by definition, a rough and dangerous place
for living and concessions had to be made, rules and conventions of
the more settled places had to be forgone out of necessity.  It was
reaching in terms of justification, but any excuse to exempt
themselves from the hated conventions imposed by T'Do's court was a
good one.

Now they returned to those ways, at least in part.  Complex and
convoluted speech used when greeting someone still was out.  Manners,
especially table manners, were back - no more using his sleeve as a
napkin for E'Arte - as was meticulous cleanliness.  Crisp new uniforms
all around, twice daily baths for all Gherop, and the parts of the
palace they could logically expect the Voyager people might see were
scrubbed within a millimetre of removing the paint from the tiles.
There was nothing left at which E'Arte thought his guests could take
offence.  Everything they could possibly do to conform to the Voyager
crew's own social habits and likes and dislikes were followed.

And they had done well.  None of the guests could find a single fault
with anything over the course of the meal.  E'Arte was a charming
host.  The food was very much to their liking and safe for their
digestion as Tuvok's tricorder scan of it had indicated.  Well
received was the good news I'Nu briefly reappeared to bring them that
they had nearly everything on the Engineering shopping list was the
perfect end to a perfect meal.

The only problem was with Zji.  As she served each course, Janeway and
Joe surreptitiously gave each other looks over the pre-adolescent's
head.  They clearly did not approve of the nicely washed and cleanly
dressed child as a serving girl.

Naturally, E'Arte had known this would happen and had kept the girl in
plain sight for a very specific purpose.  When she disappeared with
the dessert plates through the curtains to the hall to the kitchens,
he finally played his next card.

"You try to hide it, yet I can tell you do not approve of her."

So as not to offend, Janeway carefully phrased her objection.  "Where
we come from, she would be in school, not serving at table."

He nodded.  "And that is where she should be, Captain.  Unfortunately,
Verta make that impossible," he sighed.

"Verta?"

"The ones I spoke of earlier, when we first contacted you, the cause
of our... difficult times.  They're a loosely connected band of
terrorists who are not happy with the change in government.  Every
opportunity they find, they try to disrupt life here."  Another deep
sigh.  "And we seem powerless to reason with them."

"What do they want?"

"My people gone from this world.  The return of the Royal Family to
the throne.  Life as it once was whether that is advantageous or not."

"Your people are not indigenous to this planet," Tuvok observed.

"No, we are not.  We came here to open trade talks with the Rachar,
but ended up staying on to take over from the Royal Family."

Carey frowned.  "Take over from them?"

"There was a revolution.  We stepped in to temporarily lead Rachar
until her own people could learn to properly lead themselves.  Their
government - if you can call it that - had been a monarchy system for
so long the people here had no idea how to do anything without someone
to tell them what to do."

Tuvok set aside his napkin.  "May I ask what became of the Royal
Family?"

"The Queen was deposed.  She and the members of her court either were
killed or killed themselves.  Of course the Verta do not believe this.
They claim the Queen and her infant child were smuggled out to safety
and are hiding until the day the Verta can restore them to their
throne."  He shook his head sadly. "All dreams on their part, I'm
afraid.  The Queen is dead.  I saw her body myself.  But the idea she
may still live is a powerful symbol to some."

"So how does this prevent the child from going to school?" Janeway
asked.

"The Verta are the worst kind of terrorists.  They do not confine
their violent acts to government offices or residences.  They do not
strike solely at the ones they wish to force to leave, namely my
people.  No, they attack schools and hospitals and orphanages and
crowded village squares.  In the past two days alone, there have been
two dozen citizens killed because of these criminals.  My people and
those who are loyal to what we are trying to accomplish are doing our
best to find the Verta and stop them, but until we do, the schools
have been closed and the children are educated in their homes."

He gestured to the curtains.  "There are many orphans due to the
revolution and events since.  Zji is one of them.  She has no family
to educate her, no home to be educated in. There are so many orphans
the Rachar cannot take them all in so some of my people have taken
them into our homes.  The majority of Rachar have a very strong work
ethic.  It is almost inbred.  Because of it, these orphans feel like
they are not earning their keep as it were so we make a deal with them
and they do some light chores.  Zji considers this her chore."  He
shrugged his massive shoulders.  "It does no real harm so I permit her
to do it."

"It makes her happy."

He smiled.  "Precisely, Captain."

Carrying a tray of after dinner drinks, the topic of conversation
passed through the curtains again.  Once she was close enough to him,
E'Arte set the tray on the table and swung her up into his lap.  "And
you're a fine little worker, too, aren't you, Zji?"

The child ducked her head and her wild hair concealed her face.  Even
the length of time he had granted her to make herself look presentable
was not enough for her to tame her hair.

E'Arte laughed.  "She is so shy.  All right, child.  Off you go."

He set her on her bare feet and she scurried back behind the curtains
from whence she had come. Making a good show of it, the Gherop leader
watched her go, smiling and shaking his head before rising to offer
his guests the drinks.

"So," Janeway began, accepting a glass along with Joe, "do you think
my crew will be safe from the Verta if we come down here for
shoreleave?"

"If you are asking can I guarantee their safety, no.  My people and
the non-Verta will do our best to see they remain unharmed.  I cannot
speak for the Verta.  They never furnish us with any warnings prior to
their acts of terrorism."

Tuvok refused a glass.  "Perhaps if the numbers of personnel on the
surface at any given time were kept to a minimum and a constant
transporter lock were kept on them, it would increase their safety."

The Captain nodded.

"Well, then," E'Arte smiled, raising his glass in a toast, "may we all
have a very successful relationship."

The two humans joined in the toast and the Vulcan inclined his head.


---

The moment the guests and host left the dining hall, Zji hurried from
her place behind the curtains. Despite what E'Arte would have said if
asked, she had not been the one running back and forth to the kitchen
throughout the meal.  Another of the staff had been doing that while
Zji had remained at her post, listening to their master's carefully
edited version of truth.  It amazed her how he was able to leave out
just enough of the facts to still be telling the visitors the truth
yet give the situation on Rachar an entirely new spin.  Any outsiders
- like his dinner companions - listening to his version would have
believed him, it was so flawless.  They never would have guessed how a
reintegration of the conveniently omitted facts would have left the
listener with a totally different - and more accurate - version of the
Rachar's lives.

'Soon they'll know the whole story,' she promised.  'Soon it will all
be over for the Gherop.'

---

When I'Nu found him, E'Arte still was standing on the terrace.  Lunch
and the subsequent tour of the palace and capital city finally over,
the guests from Voyager had beamed up to their ship without incident
or inkling of the Gherop's machinations.

"The three ships are on their way and expect to intercept Sunfire
soon."

"Good," E'Arte approved.  "I don't want them to arrive here and
complicate my plans for Voyager. They will start sending down their
people tomorrow.  Ensure everything is prepared for them."

"Wouldn't it be easier just to-"

"We have discussed this before, I'Nu.  This is how I have decided we
shall proceed."

"Yes, E'Arte."

As the clerk departed for his office, his superior smiled to himself.
Everything was working out as expected.  They were right where he
wanted them and soon he would have the only possible snag in his plan
eliminated.  He had wondered where the second, smaller ship had gone
when Voyager had arrived alone.  Their Main Shuttle Bay was not large
enough to hold her therefore she had to have left them for some
reason.  He was trying to figure out some way to ask where when one
innocuous question unexpectedly had yielded the answer.

"So, Captain," he had said as he showed them the Royal Rachar art
collection, still hanging in its places instead of on its way to T'Do
as all treasures were supposed to, "how long do you think you'll be
with us. Not that I'm trying to get rid of you or anything," he had
laughed.

"A few days," Janeway had smiled back.  "If that's all right?  Three
of our shipmates have gone off on a mining expedition and are to
rendezvous with us here the day after tomorrow."

"Perhaps we could save them the trouble and supply you with whatever
you need."

She had gone one to explain the scarcity of the ore they needed and
the immediacy of situation regarding the nova.  It had been relatively
simple for I'Nu, at his superior's tacit command, to excuse himself
from the remainder of the tour, use the information the Captain had
supplied to pinpoint Sunfire's exact location and flight path, then
notify him in the guise of an urgent report to be reviewed.  It was
easy to tap out the command for I'Nu to send ships from their base
nearest that system out to intercept the ship and destroy her.

His grin broadened.  Soon it would all be over for the Verta.

---

"May I come in?"

Sitting on his bed, back against the cabin wall, Tom looked up from
the padd he reading.  "Of course."

"I thought you were going to sleep."

"I did for a while."  He did not complete the statement by saying the
"while" was a few minutes and he had woken thanks to yet another
nightmare.  Tom had wanted to go repair the cloaking device, but
Sunfire was adamantly against it.  He was supposed to rest, not work.
The malfunctioning cloak could wait.

Looking uncomfortable, Neelix stepped farther into the quarters.
Though Tom did not know it, Neelix had spent considerable time pacing
about his quarters, wondering if he should do this or not.  After all,
this did not concern only him, but Sam and Naomi as well.  Did he have
the right to give this man hope of an entr�e back into Naomi's life,
hope that could so easily be dashed by Sam when they returned to
Voyager? Finally, he decided to do it and damned be the consequences.

That had sounded good to him a moment ago, however, now that he was
there, he stood there, looking around at quarters identical to his own
in all respects, as though he was expecting to see something
different.

"Is everything all right?" Tom finally asked.

"Oh, fine."

"You're finding your way around okay?"

"Oh, yes.  Sunfire's been most helpful when needed."

He looked pointedly at the ore dust on Neelix's clothing and guessed
what he had been doing over the past couple of hours Tom had been
incarcerated in his room.  "Problem with refining the ore?"

"No, it's going quite well so far.  We've done half a container so
far."

"Any problems with the ship Sunfire hasn't told me about?"

The ship had unwillingly confessed her cloak suddenly had developed a
glitch and had cut out. Tom had been all for going to fix it
immediately.  Sunfire had negated the idea, saying he needed to rest
and her sensors did not detect anyone in the area at the moment so
there was no pressing need to remain hidden.  The cloak could wait
until later.

"Not that I know about."

"So what brings you here then?"

"I..." He whipped his hands out from behind his back and the
thirty-centimetre by thirty-centimetre piece of off-white paper
rustled with the action.  "Naomi wanted me to give this to you."

Tom accepted the drawing like it was some precious idol unearthed from
an archaeological dig.  He stared at it, drinking in every millimetre
of the one-sided communication from the little girl he so loved.

Totally forgotten, Neelix watched the pilot's mask fall and the
sadness the man felt appear on the fair skinned face.  It was that
moment the Talaxian realized what an injustice he had paid his friend.
He suddenly knew all the fear and discomfort and suspicions had been
unnecessary and, more importantly, cruel.  Until this moment, he could
not remember a time in his life when he had been truly cruel to any
living creature, but he had been to Tom, his friend.

Sadly, he reached out to touch the young human's shoulder.  The action
brought the pilot back to him with a jolt.  He stiffened, the mask
fell back into place, and the drawing was set aside.

"Thank you, Neelix," he said, rising.  "If you will excuse me, I need
to-"

"Gherop incoming!" Sunfire announced.  "Three ships."

"Two to the Bridge."

---

"Captain, we have them."

The Gherop Captain of the lead vessel nodded to his first officer.
"Send a message to the other ships. Remind them our orders are to use
whatever means necessary.  Take no prisoners."

"Aye, Captain."

"Tactical, shields to maximum.  Weapons to the ready.  Helm, take us
in."

---

"The odds do not favour us," Seven remarked from her seat at Ops as
the other two materialized.

"They never do," Tom quipped, taking the Helm.  "Damn, I knew I should
have got the cloaking device back on line instead of going to my
quarters.  Seven, stay on shields and be ready to do any repairs as
needed."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Neelix, let's see what good Tuvok's tactical training course has done
you. You're on weapons. Just stay away from the upper left-hand
section.  They're last a resort only."

The Talaxian took the seat at Tactical when the station and chair had
slid out of the wall and floor. "Yes, Tom."

For a while it seemed Seven's dire prediction for their survival was
correct.  Tom's death defying flying through an asteroid field,
Neelix's creative use of the available weapons, and Seven's
alterations to the shields made in between patch jobs on the various
ship's systems kept them in one piece a lot longer than would have
been expected.

Then the Gherop brought out the heavy artillery.

A curse in some language unfamiliar to either of Tom's companions cut
the air as the huge torpedo brushed their aft shields and impacted on
the huge, porous asteroid Tom had been using to hamper their sensors.
They barely had made it through one of the tunnels to the other side
when the space rock began to melt like an ice cube in the sun.

"Aft shields are down," Seven shouted.  "Unable to re-route power to
re-establish."

"Great," Tom muttered.  "Neelix, hit those last resort weapons I told
you not to touch and both of you sit back in your seats!"

The pair did as ordered only a split second before restraints flew
across their bodies, anchoring them to their chairs.  This was of
major necessity as the ship only a second later shuddered and shook.
Neelix and Seven would have thought this was the end were it not for
the stations' displays showing them a graphic of Sunfire still in one
piece.  The shuddering and shaking was from concealed weapons hatches
all over the exterior of the ship opening to expose nasty looking
phaser cannons.

Before the first blast from the newly revealed armaments could be
fired, the Gherop ships each fired a torpedo like the last one.

Within moments, the battle was over.

---

"Are you sure you should be out of bed yet?"

B'Elanna suppressed a groan.  Harry was one of her closest friends and
she loved him dearly, but there were times she gladly would have
decked him were it not so like kicking a puppy.  "Yes!" she groaned
for the umpteenth time.  "I feel just fine now.  No aches, no pains,
no weakness, nothing.  Much to the Doctor's chagrin.  You'd think he
actually wanted me sick and confined to bed."  She shook her head.  "I
don't know what's up with him, but the moment the Captain and I beamed
there he started acting really weird."

"How could you tell," he joked.

It was the first joke the ensign had made in a week and B'Elanna gave
him a brilliant smile - more for the indication he was returning to
his usual self than the comedic brilliance of the remark.

"Okay," he smiled, "how is he acting weird?"

"I can't explain it.  It's just a feeling really.  He kept scanning me
and asking me to describe every single twinge and to tell him
immediately when I felt any.  And he kept making meticulous notes
about it all.  At least I think that was what he was doing.  I'm not
quite sure what exactly he doing on that padd of his."

Harry shrugged.  "B'Elanna, it sounds like he was merely doing his
job."

"But it was the way he was asking.  I know he usually makes a pest of
himself whenever he has a captive audience, but still, it felt
different.  I had to appeal to Chakotay in the Captain's absence to
order him to let me leave.  And then the Doctor was reluctant to give
in."  She shook her head.  "I can't shake the feeling there's
something he's not telling me."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," she groaned, frustrated.  "I told you, he wouldn't
tell me."

"So you started imaging all sorts of horrid things."

The look on her face confirmed his statement.

"B'Elanna, you're fine," he said in his most reassuring tone.
"Chakotay wouldn't have been able to talk him into releasing you if
you really were sick.  And he would have told you if you were sick,
not kept it from you."

"Then why has he been watching me like I was some new from of microbe
under his microscope?"

"With the Doctor, who knows?  Maybe he's as baffled as you were as to
why your legs gave out on you. Maybe he's lonely since he hasn't had
any patients in a while.  Or maybe he's trying out some new
improvement to his personality, trying to pay more attention to his
patients' needs, and has gone overboard."

"He'd better not be messing around with his personality again," she
growled, remembering the disastrous results of the last time he had
"improved" his programme.

"Whatever the problem is or was, forget it.  You've been sprung."

Sighing, she nodded her head.  "You're right."

Harry smiled.

"I'd better get to Engineering and see what Carey and Vorik have done
to it in my absence."

"I can tell you it's still standing, or at least was when I was down
there an hour ago.  I don't know if you'll like the shade of pink
they've painted the warp core though."

"You've been hanging out with Tom too long, Starfleet."

The ensign's face grew taut at the mention of Tom's name.

"Harry-"

"I have to get to the Bridge.  My break's almost over."

She grabbed his arm before he could leave.  "Harry, I know you're
still upset about Tom's role in everything, but maybe if you talked
about how you're feeling about-"

"You sound like Sue!  'Talk about it.'  'Tell me how you're feeling.'
You want to know how I'm feeling? I'll tell you.  I hate him.  He was
my best friend.  The man I wanted to be so much like and he turns out
to be some sort of assassin who helps the woman I loved to kill
herself!"

"No, Sunfire helped her, not Tom.  From what the Captain told me, all
Tom apparently did was-"

"He would have shot her if Sunfire hadn't beamed her off Voyager and
scattered her molecules to the Universe.  He didn't even try to stop
it!"

"Because he knows what she was going through.  It had to be Hell for
her to remember all the horrible things she was forced to do in the
past."

"I don't believe this.  You're defending them."

"I'm not defending what they did.  I'm just saying I can see where
they're coming from."

"I can't understand you.  A few days ago you hated him.  Then I find
you in his quarters, determined to see him.  Now you're here playing
his champion?"

"I'm not-"

Harry removed her hand from his arm and stormed off.

She was about to follow when there was a call from the Captain for all
Senior Staff to report to the Conference Room for a briefing on the
outcome of the lunch with Rachar's leader.

---

"Yes, I'Nu?  What good news have you brought me?"

The clerk handed him the just decoded report.  "The three ships found
Sunfire and engaged her in battle."

Smiling, he began scanning the words for all the grisly details of the
Gherop victory.  The small ship had inflicted much damage on their
ships the last time they had met in battle.  It would be gratifying to
see an account of its destruction at the hands of fully armed Gherop
ships. There would be no turning tail and running or being reduced to
space dust this time.  They no longer had to pretend to be less
powerful than they were.  Voyager was at Rachar and in his grasp.  The
need to create minor damage to her no longer was a concern.  Their
Captain's now were permitted to use their torpedoes to blast their
opposition out of existence.

Only he did not find the account of a short and violently victorious
battle.

"All three ships destroyed?!"

"Yes, E'Arte."

"And the investigating ship can't confirm Sunfire was destroyed!"

"There is evidence to suggest it was, but they can't be certain.
Sunfire's pilot led them into an asteroid field.  Many ships have been
destroyed there over the centuries.  Our people estimate at least 200
intervals to sort through the mess and ascertain whether or not it was
destroyed."

"We don't have 200 intervals!"

"No, E'Arte."

"Have all planetary defences placed on alert, but don't let the
Voyager crew know."

"Yes, E'Arte."

I'Nu left as his superior began throwing a temper tantrum. The younger
Gherop was very tempted to grab Zji and take her with him from the
office and out of harm's way.  The fact the little girl had the
presence of mind to always make herself as unobtrusive as possible
made him reconsider the need for taking her.  'Besides,' he
rationalized to himself, closing the door behind him, 'his ushering
her out would only catch E'Arte's attention and they would become the
focus of his rage. Better self-preservation enjoyed in the safety of
his office than stupidity remembered in the pain of traction in the
Infirmary."

---

Hours later, after the ship had been repaired as best they could, the
cloaking device temporarily patched up enough to work, and the
wreckage of their attackers left well behind them, Tom returned to his
quarters. His body was exhausted to the point his legs nearly had
collapsed beneath him.  His mind, unfortunately, still was very much
awake.  This was the last thing he wanted.  A tired body with an awake
mind meant sleep would come but it would be with the brain ready,
willing, and dreadfully able to amuse itself with its favourite
horrible diversions.  He would have much preferred to yet again closet
himself in his lab and work to the point of mental as well as physical
exhaustion.  His fatigue-induced near collapse in Engineering
naturally had been witnessed by his mother hen who promptly and loudly
had ordered him to bed.  Hearing Sunfire's chastising of him, the
other two had joined in and now he was back in his quarters. Not
bothering to undress, he was about to fall onto his bunk when he saw
it - Naomi's picture still lying on the blanket.

This time when the mask fell, tears fell with it.

---

The little, brown haired boy clambered up onto the bed next to the man
sobbing into his pillow.  Given the fact the child remained several
planes of existence away from him, the bed did not experience any
movement.  He lay there on his stomach, facing the unaware human and
watching the strange spectacle. The sight of the clear liquid
appearing from under the thick pale lashes fascinated him.  He reached
out to touch the wetness and brought some of it to his plane to
examine, curiously.

The tears still were under his scrutiny when Tom lapsed into
unconsciousness sometime later.  The cry had been rather therapeutic
for him, though not entirely successful in exorcising all of his
sorrow, and now he slept the sleep of the dead.  He certainly never
knew of his bedmate.

---

"Hey, Maquis!"

A few metres across the market place bathed in late morning sun,
B'Elanna and Sue Nicoletti turned to look at Harry, lagging a few
metres behind.

"I'm going to check out a music shop down here."

"We're not supposed to split up," Nicoletti reminded him.

"Stop worrying, Sue.  I'll meet you two in a little while in that caf�
back there."

"Just be careful, Starfleet," B'Elanna cautioned.

With a negligent wave, he wandered off through the thin crowd of
mid-morning shoppers.

The Chief Engineer shook her head and she and Nicoletti went into
another shop.

---

Unhurriedly, Harry browsed his way through the displays outside of the
various shops between himself and his target - what appeared to be a
music store.  He was crossing the end of a dead end alleyway when the
male beside him bumped into him, sending Harry stumbling into the
alley. Out from behind a stack of crates, two more Rachar appeared and
grabbed him.  The muscular hand of one assailant was clamped over his
mouth as another pinned his arms behind him and the third ripped his
combadge from his jacket.  A sharp something suddenly jabbed him on
the left bicep and seconds later everything went black.

---

"Where is he?" B'Elanna complained fifteen minutes later.  Not only
had the shop not had what they had wanted but also she had been forced
to spend more time in Nicoletti's company than she normally preferred.

It was not that she despised the beautiful human female sitting across
the small caf� table from her.  She actually liked her, but the fact
she embodied everything B'Elanna always had wished she had been -
beautiful, confident, sexy, and human - that made her want to hate
her.

As she thought of this she remembered Tom once wrenching this
admission from her after the two of them had shared a turbolift with
the woman.  He had waited until they were in his quarters before
questioning her, but when he had his explanation, he had stared at her
for the longest time, his long- fingered hands framing her face, brow
furrowed, jaw slack.  Finally he had shook his head in disbelief and
spent the entire night and part of their day off the next day showing
and telling her how wrong she was.  By the time they both collapsed
from exhaustion, even she had believed him.

Now she was uncertain what she believed anymore.  During her most
recent time resting in Sickbay, she had done a lot of thinking about
her, Tom, their relationship and his past. She still did not know how
she felt other than she wanted to be in Tom's arms and to forget
everything she did not want to think about.  It was times like this,
she wished she was able to confide in people.  She really could have
used someone with whom she could talk and get a second opinion.  As it
was, Harry had made his opinion of Tom painfully clear.  Chakotay
never had been a member of the Tom Paris fan club to begin with.  And
the one person she confided in on a regular basis was the man about
whom she needed the advice.

She took a long look at the woman sitting across the table from her
while she watched the activity in the square.  'Harry trusted Sue
enough to confide in her, didn't he?' she wondered.  'He must.  His
saying just last night she was trying to get him to talk about things
to her suggested a close, personal relationship, didn't it?  And
Nicoletti always had struck her as level headed and, most importantly,
had not said anything against Tom since his secret life had been
revealed.  Maybe I could follow Harry's lead and talk to her.'

She was about to get Sue's attention to ask if she could do this when
a shadow fell across the table. "You're waiting for someone who is
late?" a grey skinned alien asked from Torres' elbow.

So lost in her thoughts, B'Elanna had not heard his approach and that
put her off balance.  "Uh, yes. One of our crewmates," she responded,
mind slowly switching gears.

"One?  It is not wise for your people to venture off alone.  The Verta
may see an off-worlder alone as an opportunity for causing trouble."

"He's gone into a shop over there," she said, gesturing to one down
the block.  "He should be back any moment."

"Ah," he sighed.  "I caught a glimpse of your friend.  As tall as I?
Uniform coloured like both of yours?"

"Yes."

"Then I did see him.  He had something in a bundle in his arms.  I
turned away to say hello to a friend and when I turned back he had
vanished."

"Vanished?  Oh, you mean 'beamed up'?"

He shrugged.  "He was gone anyway."

"I can't imagine Harry forgetting to contact us."

"I can," Sue sighed.  "I think it's a music shop.  When we were on...
Where were we?  Doesn't matter. Anyway, Harry, Tom Paris, myself, and
I forget who all were on shoreleave and Harry abandoned us for a music
shop and forgot all about us and Voyager for hours."

"I remember," B'Elanna nodded.  "The Captain had to call him back to
the ship twice before he finally came.  He had been engrossed in some
conversation with the proprietor and forgot all else."

Sue grinned.  "I'll never forget his face when he beamed up and the
first thing he saw was a ticked off Captain waiting for him.  His face
was as red as her uniform shoulders."

Smiling, B'Elanna turned to the alien.  "Thank you for telling us."

"It was nothing.  Actually I was hoping for an excuse to meet some of
your people.  We don't receive many visitors here, what with the Verta
and all.  May I stay and talk with you for a while?"

Not seeing any reason why not, the women offered him a seat at their
table.

"I am C'Nar," he introduced himself.

B'Elanna gave her name and Sue's then answered his questions as to why
they were on the surface.

"Perhaps I can assist you in your search," he volunteered.  "I know
The Capital very well."

"Then you wouldn't happen to know where we might find some of these,
do you?"  B'Elanna handed over the padd containing their shopping list
and pointed to a highlighted item.  "We were told the shop over there
might have some but they didn't."

"Hmm, that is a tough one.  If they don't have any, I'm not sure where
to find them."

Dejected, she took the padd back.

He suddenly smiled a toothy grin.  The sight was not an altogether
enjoyable sight for the women, but his tone of voice and friendly
attitude did a lot to counteract that. "I don't know," he said, "but I
have a friend who might."  He rose.  "Come with me and we'll see."

The two women quickly followed after him.

---

"Frankly," Chakotay said once he finished his mouthful of the
vegetables and rice that was his dinner that night, "if anyone would
know it would be Harry."

From her seat across the Mess Hall table from him, Kathryn nodded.
"Yes, you're right."  She looked around the room.  "It should be his
dinner hour."  She spied B'Elanna just leaving the queue at the
serving counter with her meal and motioned her over to join them.
"B'Elanna, didn't I overhear you and Harry this morning making plans
to have dinner together tonight?"

Taking a seat, the Chief Engineer nodded and gestured to her padd. "We
have some modification details to go over."  She did her own scan of
the room.  "I wonder where he is."

"Did you get what you needed?" Chakotay asked, setting down his juice
glass.

"Finally, yes.  A friend of C'Nar knew a guy who knew a woman who was
married to a man who... well anyway, it gets confused after that, but
we finally located almost everything we need and the raw materials to
manufacture what we couldn't find.  All of it except a couple of items
beamed up with Sue and I.  Beta shift's finishing off the repairs to
the ship now that we have the parts and I'm going to work with the
Gammas when they come on duty to start manufacturing the rest."

Only half hearing her Chief's plans, Janeway was frowning.  "Who's
C'Nar?"

"One of the grey aliens.  He wanted to meet someone from Voyager. He's
rather curious about aliens apparently.  Always wanted to go into the
diplomatic corps and do First Contact type of missions only some
relative of his screwed up somehow and sullied the family name...
Anyway, to make a long story short, because of that relative he
couldn't get clearance to join the corps and ended up here in some low
level, technical position instead.  Frankly, I think he's better
suited to Engineering actually.  He has an amazing grasp of
technology."  She shrugged.  "But he's stuck here.  Anyway, he saw Sue
and I sitting in a caf�, waiting for Harry and-"

"Waiting for Harry?  Where was Harry?"

B'Elanna could have kicked herself.  She knew Harry was going to get
into trouble for leaving them alone if anyone found out so she and Sue
had resolved not to tell anyone unless word made its way to the
Captain or Chakotay on its own.  Now she had gone and let it slip
anyway. "Oh, he saw this music shop," she sighed, " and you know him
and music shops.  He went to go check it out and we planned to meet
him in the caf� only C'Nar saw him beam up with some purchases."

Chakotay angrily shook his head.  "He knows none of the crew are
supposed to be travelling alone down there.  He should never have left
you two.  What if the Verta had got him or you two?"

The Captain slapped her combadge.  "Janeway to Kim."

No answer.

"Captain Janeway to Ensign Kim.  Computer, locate Ensign Kim."

"Ensign Harry Kim is not on Voyager."

Both of her dinner companions froze with their forks halfway to their
mouths.

"This C'Nar saw him beam up?"

"He said the saw Harry then he looked away to say hello to someone and
when he turned back a second later Harry was gone."

"But he didn't actually see him beam up."

"No, ma'am."

"Janeway to Bridge," she called, rising along with the other two.
"Scan the surface and locate Ensign Kim."

"Yes, Captain," came the voice from Ops as the trio ran from the room.

---

Harry awoke in the dark.  There were no windows wherever he was, only
a hard stone floor upon which he was lying.  He had no idea of how
much time had passed other than in the fact the dampness around him
had had enough time to seep into his uniform and form a chilly sheen
over his skin.

Pain shot through his skull as he lifted his head.  'What had
happened?' he wondered.  After a moment he remembered the three big
Rachar who had accosted him.  'The Captain's going to be so mad,' he
thought, not fully appreciating the jeopardy he was in.  'I'll be
degaussing Jefferies tubes for months.'

When he finally had gathered enough strength to rise to his hands and
knees, he carefully crawled around until he found what he guessed to
be a wall and laid a hand on it to brace himself as he got to his
feet.  The moment he had gained his feet, he immediately removed his
hand and distastefully shook the grime from his hand, wishing for the
cleanliness of Voyager.

At the thought of his ship, he automatically lifted a hand for his
combadge. It was gone.  Whoever had taken him obviously knew it was
more than jewelery and planned to hang on to him now that they had
him.  'But who would do this?' he wondered just as the answer came to
him. 'The rebels E'Arte had told the Captain about.  What had he
called them?  The Ver-something?  Who else could it be?'  Harry
shivered.  'I have get out of here," he knew, 'before they come back
for me.'

He stumbled around the perimeter of the wall until he found what he
thought might be a door and began feeling for a control panel to open
it or even an old fashioned handle like the doors in Tom's
holoprogrammes.

He paused for a brief moment.  As much as he hated to think about the
man now, he knew had Tom been with him he would have been able to get
him out of there. Undoubtedly, Tom had had plenty of experience with
places like this.

'But he's not here,' he reminded himself.  'You'll just have to do
this all on your own.'

Harry still was groping for a control when the door slid open and two
well-armed Rachar entered with dim lights strapped to their wrists. He
wished he had a compression phaser rifle to even up the odds, but he
did not.  And as it turned out, it was unnecessary anyway.

"You are Ensign Harry Kim from Voyager?" a feminine voice softly asked
as she slapped his combadge onto his chest, upside down.

He righted it and regarded her warily.  "Yes."

"Then come with us."  She and her companion made for the door.  They
stopped in the doorway when Harry did not follow.  "If you don't come
with us they'll kill you."

Harry did not budge.

She swore under her breath.  "Look, we may have busted in here to get
you, Ensign Harry Kim, but if it comes down to us getting out of here
alive without you or the Verta finding us inside one of their secret
bases-"

"You're not Verta?"  His tone was one of surprise.

Hers was one of disgust.  "We certainly are not," she denied.  "Now
will you move?  Sooner or later they are going to realize the
generator that broke down actually was *sabotage* and they'll start
looking for the saboteurs."

Making a gut instinct decision, Harry nodded and followed them out
into the hall where he nearly collided with a huge male who was at
sentry.  The male did not speak, merely pushed Harry off in the
direction in which the other two were hurrying.

At the end of the dark hall, they ducked into another room.  The two
in front led him over to the rear of what he guessed, in the dim glow
from their lights, to be a small land vehicle.  Swinging themselves up
into the bed of the vehicle, they popped the lid off of one of the
barrels and motioned for Harry to join them.

"Get in," she told him.  "We have to smuggle you out."

"Why don't we just beam out?  I have my combadge.  I can call Voyager
and-"

"Your combadge is damaged.  When we found it we tried to use it to
alert your people to do just that only it wouldn't work."

He tapped it and discovered they were correct.  "At least the
translation circuits still work.  Maybe I can fix whatever they did to
it and-"

"There's no time for that now.  Get in."

Harry did and they sealed him inside the container.

For a long time he neither heard nor saw anything and felt only the
occasional bump that he attributed to the vehicle's trip.  When they
finally stopped and the lid was removed once more and he was helped
out of the container and into the bright lights of a loading dock.
Carefully, they helped him sit on a nearby crate.

"Where are we?" he asked, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Our base."

"Who are you?"

"We're the P'Chi.  You are amongst friends.  I assure you."

Lowering his hand, he squinted at her.  As his eyes adjusted to the
light, he at last could see his rescuers. The leader indeed was a
woman with lavender skin and a head completely shaved bald except for
a single indigo braid falling from above her left temple.  The smaller
of her two companions was a pink skinned male, equally bald and with a
crimson ponytail dangling from his nape.  The huge sentry from the
hall was a pale green male with a dark green braid dangling from the
top of his head. All three had nasty looking weapons slung over one
shoulder and sidearms at their waists.

"I am Nru," the female introduced.  "This is Ksu."

The pink male smiled.

"And that is Plwa."

The green male merely offered him a brief nod.

"Harry," the ensign said, gesturing to himself.  "But then you already
know that."

She nodded and the smile broadened.

"How did you find me?"

"One of our people is undercover with the group who kidnapped you and
warned us when you were brought in."  She noticed the way he was
looking from one to another of them with a slight frown.  "What is it,
Harry?"

"Your hair." he blurted out, unthinkingly then stopped and flushed.
"I'm sorry.  I-"

"It is all right to be curious, Harry.  All the P'Chi wear their hair
this way.  It is a sign of our position." She touched the single pip
on his collar.  "Like your rank insignia."

Her touching his pip reminded him of Voyager.  "I need to contact
Voyager. Let them know I'm okay."

"We will do our best to get word to them.  However, it cannot be from
here. The Verta don't know of this base yet and we would prefer to
keep it that way for as long as possible.  If our transmissions were
discovered they might be tracked back here and our security will be
compromised.  First thing in the morning, we'll send one of our people
out a safe distance with a communications unit and contact them."

"Why not now?"

"If the Verta stumbled across our people and a comm unit they would
know immediately know what they were up to.  Right now they don't know
how you escaped.  That works in our favour.  We have another operation
underway and I don't want it compromised by them thinking we have you
and attacking innocents in retaliation."

"My shipmates will be concerned," he insisted.

"I know, but it is the best we can do.  It's not much, but will you
accept our hospitality for the night?"

Reluctantly, Harry nodded.

"Good.  In the meantime, what can you tell us about who took you?
Anything you can tell us will be of great assistance."

"I was unconscious for most of it.  I woke up where you found me.  I
don't know how long I stumbled around in the dark looking for a door."
He grimaced at the pale green stain still on his palm, picked up from
contact with the grimy wall of his cell.  "Then you three came and
brought me here.  Yours are the only faces I saw and the room where
you found me, the corridor, and the room where you stuffed me into the
container were the only places."

Nru laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.  "What about when you were taken?
Didn't you see or hear anything then?"

"No.  These three Rachar - at least they were built like Rachar - they
were in cloaks and hoods and they pushed me into an alley with them
and injected me with something.  The next thing I know I was waking
up- Why are you looking at me like that?"

The moment he had told them of the injection, Nru's hand had leapt
from Harry's shoulder as if it were an open plasma manifold and she
and the others had taken a reflexive step back.  Glances were flitting
from him to each other then back again.

"Where were you injected?" she choked out.

"The left bicep.  Why?"

"Show us."

Harry removed his uniform jacket and grey turtleneck.  It was as he
was peeling the turtleneck down his left arm that he saw what had them
so worried.  On his bicep was a red welt the size of his fist.  "What
is it?"

"Ksu, alert the medical staff."

After watching the pink Rachar scramble to obey the command, Harry
looked in askance at Nru. "What?"

"There are two possibilities for what they may have injected you with,
Harry.  Both have the same result - unconsciousness.  One of them,
however, also results, in some species anyway, paralysis and/or death.
Both of them can produce a large red welt around the site of the
injection. It's not until it is too late to do anything about it that
we know which injection it is.  By then the victim is dead and the
infection has been transmitted to others."

He looked at the redness on his arm then back at her.  "I have to get
back to my ship.  To Sickbay. The Doctor will-"

"I'm afraid you're too much of a risk to your crew now, Harry.  We'll
transmit your vitals to your medical staff and see if they have any
new insights into this, but for their sakes you will have to be
quarantined here until... well, until we know one way or the other."

"How long until we know?"

"Each species is different.  It could be hours or days.  Weeks maybe.
We don't know.

Harry's head dropped to his hands.  "Why would they do this to me?
Voyager's got nothing to do with this... disagreement of theirs."

"The Verta want to bring down the government.  You are here, wanting
to trade with the government.  Maybe they're thinking they could turn
your people against E'Arte and the rest of the government if one of
your people die.  You ship's said to be powerful.  You could inflict
much damage to the government were it turned against them."

"But why me?"

"Luck perhaps?  Anyone probably would have done.  You, your Captain,
whomever they could get their hands on."

"And I broke orders and wandered off alone, practically begging the
Verta to snatch me."

"Well, yes."

"The Captain is going to kill me.  *If* this infection doesn't first."

"Harry, we don't even know if you are infected yet.  Don't start
assuming the worst."

Ksu reappeared at her side and nodded.

"Harry, the medical staff has secure quarters for us to stay in until
we can determine if you're infected or not."

His head snapped up.  "I may have infected you too," he suddenly
realized.

Nru sighed and nodded.  "I won't lie.  That is a possibility."

Harry could not meet her eyes any longer.  "You three risked your
lives to save me and how do I repay you?  By maybe killing you."

"Don't think like that.  We knew the risks when we went in after you.
We accepted them.  If we did not, we wouldn't have gone.  Now, stop
feeling sorry for things not within your control and let's get you to
your quarters.  I bet you would like a shower.  I know I would had I
been confined in there."

Nodding, he slowly accompanied them to the door.

One end of a long, white tube of a plastic-like material was
surrounding the doorway when Plwa opened it.   It was large enough to
seal the opening entirely and for the four of them to walk two abreast
through it.

He looked at Nru.

"It is a temporary corridor.  The emergency staff erected it so we can
travel down the hall and into our quarters without risking infecting
anyone who was not inside this room. Once were out of here, this room
will be sealed off until we know if the infection is inside."

"What about this thing?"

"The inside of the tube is coated with a chemical.  Once we're
through, the exterior will be heated, causing the chemical to be
released.  It will bond with any molecules of the infection and trap
them as the heat makes the entire tube begin shrink.  What's left of
the unit will be gathered up and incinerated.  All very safe for all
concerned.  Come on."

Sighing, he followed her.

---

"Captain Janeway, what can I do for you," a sleepy looking E'Arte
yawned.

"My Ops officer is missing."

One set of grey eyes abruptly became as wide awake as those watching
him. "From off of your ship?"

"From the surface.  This afternoon.  He was down there with two others
when he disobeyed orders and wandered off on his own.  One of your
people apparently saw him after that. A male named C'Nar."

He shook his head, thinking.  "I don't know him.  I'Nu, find this
C'Nar and get him here."  Off screen, there was the sound of hurrying
footsteps and a door closing.  "We will find him.  Can you tell us
exactly where your officer was?"

"B'Elanna?"

B'Elanna stepped forwards to repeat the story of the incident.

E'Arte tried to look reassuringly at them, but it was clear to all it
was forced.  "Probably he lost all track of time, that's all.  Some of
the shopkeepers love to chat and if he's as interested in music as you
say and he met a like-minded individual, he might still be there,
talking."

"We can't raise him over his combadge," Janeway informed him.  "Nor
can we get a lock on his signal."

"Maybe he is in someone's basement?  I know our own sensors have
trouble with this planet sometimes. Practically all structures on
Rachar have subterranean rooms for cold storage of produce or as
living quarters during the warm season."

Though the alien would not have understood the phrase, everyone on the
Bridge thought it - "grasping at straws."

"I'll personally go to see this shopkeeper," he promised nonetheless.
"And I'll spread the word amongst my people.  Surely someone will hear
something."

"Thank you.  We'll contact you if we find out anything."

"And I the same.  Hopefully by the time I'Nu and I beam up to your
ship tomorrow, we will have news."

It was on the tip of Janeway's tongue to say the tour of her ship that
she had promised the two aliens was off.  Years of Starfleet training
and practical experience in handling diplomatic situations demanded
she not rescind her offer.

"Of course," she nodded then the screen returned to a view of Rachar
and the surrounding stars.

Rubbing her face, she knew it was going to be a long night.

---

"Well, I'Nu?" E'Arte inquired of the clerk standing just inside of the
door he supposedly had closed behind him as he "left."

"Everything is ready for tomorrow."

"Good.  I want it double checked before we go to their ship.  No screw
ups. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, E'Arte."

---

"And that is the story of the Mess Hall," the Captain told her brunch
companion the next day.  "If you've finished, we'll move on to Sickbay
where I know our Doctor has a few questions for-"

E'Arte's communicator bleeped before the Captain could finish her
statement. Laying his napkin next to his tray on the table, he
withdrew the device from his pocket and checked the text message on
the display.  Smiling broadly, he returned it to his pocket and nodded
to I'Nu who stood a respectful distance from the table of his superior
and the Captain.  The clerk's hand slipped into his pocket for his own
device.

"Harry?" Janeway asked hopefully.

He stopped smiling.  "I'm sorry, no.  This was another matter.
Something I had been waiting for finally is about to come to fruition.
I'Nu?"

Within seconds it was over.  Everyone in the Mess Hall and all over
Voyager slumped to the deck, unconscious.  As far as E'Arte and I'Nu
knew, the only ones still awake were the two of them and C'Nar in the
Transporter Room.  Once questioned by Janeway, the Gherop technician
had remained as ordered in Transporter Room One, supposedly until it
was time for them to leave.  The thumbnail-sized devices I'Nu had
deposited throughout the ship during their tour had been triggered by
the signal from the clerk's communicator and the very hull itself
became a giant conductor for the sonorous vibrations.  Only the three
of them with the neutralizers hidden behind their earlobes had
remained.

"Readings?"

"All asleep, E'Arte," I'Nu reported, consulting the readout on the
device in his hand.

"Then I think that's enough.  I don't want them so asleep they can't
be awakened to answer a few questions if necessary."

As I'Nu signalled the tiny devices to switch off, everyone in the Mess
Hall began disappearing in transporter beams.

"Let's go to the Transporter Room and see if C'Nar has mastered any
more of their technology than just the transporters."

B'Elanna had been correct when she had pronounced C'Nar to be an
excellent potential engineer. He was the best of all the technicians
on Rachar and that was the reason he had been hand picked by E'Arte
for this mission - that and the fact he was quite adept at the art of
manipulation.  E'Arte had possessed no reservations regarding C'Nar's
ability to sweet talk B'Elanna Torres into showing him how the
transporters worked, though he still had reminded him the punishment
for failure would be severe.  It would be nothing like what E'Arte had
claimed to Janeway C'Nar was facing because he had let an offworlder,
clearly alone which was against all precedent, disappear before he
could get to him to ensure his continued safety.  A real punishment
from E'Arte would not have been to be on a ship amongst aliens "he so
wanted to meet" and being confined to the Transporter Room, forbidden
to speak to anyone.

"Well?" his superior asked as he and I'Nu strode through the
Transporter Room door.

C'Nar gestured to the sleeping Chief Engineer lying on the deck behind
the transporter console he was examining.  "As predicted, she fell for
the pleading look I gave her once I'd finished 'explaining myself and
what had happened' and you 'pronounced punishment.'  She reappeared
not long after you left with her Captain."  He pointed at Nozawa, also
asleep and on the deck.  "The male who had been at the controls was
ordered not to tell anyone of her being here and she began talking to
me. She was quite kind," he sneered as he instructed the transporter
to remove Torres and Nozawa from the ship too.  "It was a simple
matter to bring the conversation around to my 'being intrigued with
their technology'."

Watching the two bodies vanish, E'Arte nodded approvingly.  "Once the
last of them is in their new homes, begin beaming up our people."

"Sending down the last of them now, E'Arte."

"Excellent."  He looked appreciatively his new ship.  "I'Nu oversee
the deployment.  I'll be on the Bridge."  Not waiting for a response,
he headed for the door, only to bounce off a forcefield that had been
erected over it.

I'Nu rushed over to help his superior back to his feet.

"What happened?!" the leader barked, shaking off the assisting hands.

"Some sort of electrical field?" C'Nar wondered staring at the
doorway. "I'Nu go touch it."

The clerk shot him a glance that said: "*You* go touch it!"

"Do it," E'Arte ordered.

Swallowing, I'Nu moved towards it until he was an arm's length from it
and timidly reached out an index finger towards the door.  He gasped
loudly and screeched as the shock bit him and he jerked backwards.

The glare E'Arte sent C'Nar left no room for error in translation.
"Get rid of it, immediately," was fully understood.

---

"Lieutenant, try to calm down."

B'Elanna Torres hated being made a fool of only slightly less than she
did being confined so Nozawa's suggestion from the cell across the
corridor hardly found her in the calmest of moods.  She halted her
pacing of her two metre wide by three metre deep cell and whirled
around to growl at him through the thick metal bars that were her
door.

"If you tell me that one more time, Nozawa, I'll-"

"That's enough," Chakotay barked from a few cells down.  "Now everyone
keep calm.  Anyone who's hurt speak up."

No one did.

"Good, now let's do a head count and see if anyone's missing."

It took a while to get the logistics of such a seemingly simple
operation figured out, but at last they did. It was at hearing the
last person shout out their number that they realized their counting
off was five short.

'Tom, Seven, and Neelix are off with Sunfire,' Chakotay thought, 'so
whose voices didn't I hear?'

A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach answered him.

The Captain and Doctor were the only two voices who had not been
heard.

---

"What do you mean you're locked out?!" E'Arte yelled at C'Nar.

"Exactly what I said."  He gestured to the Transporter console.  "I'm
locked out.  Nothing responds to commands."  To demonstrate, he
pressed, at random, any buttons not used in connection with the
transporters with no fear of anything horrendous or even mildly
interesting happening.  "The only thing I can access on the entire
ship is this transporter."

"How is that possible?"

"There are plenty of explanations.  Someone may have realized
something strange was happening and ordered it.  Maybe it was an
automatic thing.  If the entire crew is off of the ship at the same
time, this kicks in to defend the ship from being seized.  I don't
know.  And without a working terminal, the computer technicians won't
be able to try to supersede the command codes to give us access."

"So you're telling me this is nothing more than a huge, flying...
sculpture?!"

"Essentially, yes."

"But the transporter still works!"

"Yes."

"Can't you just beam us passed that?"  He gestured towards the
forcefield over the doorway.

He tried with I'Nu.  The Gherop's form shimmered in the transporter
beam for a couple of seconds then rematerialized in precisely the same
spot where he had been before.

"We can only beam down or up, no sideways or whatever other direction
you want to go."

E'Arte looked like he wanted to kill someone and both Gherop fervently
hoped it was neither of them. "I can return to the surface without
fearing for my safety?" he growled.

"Yes, I believe so."

This was not the resounding vote of confidence he was hoping for. This
simple plan of his certainly was not working out the way he had
expected.  "You stay and work on this problem.  I'Nu and I are going
to the surface.  I'll just have to convince them to tell us how
counteract this."

"I doubt they'll do it willingly."

"No, but if they won't, I know someone who might."

---

"Harry?"  Nru rushed into Harry's temporary quarters without knocking.
"Harry, get up."

Even thought his internal clock would have woken him long ago were he
on Voyager, Harry still was in bed asleep.  The night before had not
been easy on him.  He had spent a great deal of time worrying about
how badly the Captain was going to punish him for breaking orders.
*If* he did not die of course.  Then, as happened with most creatures
who were confronted with evidence of their own mortality, he had begun
to regret all of his past mistakes and had spent a long time dwelling
on his recent behaviour, especially towards Tom Paris.  By the hours
of the morning a lot of things had been put in perspective.  He was
willing to concede the possibility B'Elanna was right and he had been
a little harsh on his friend.  When he finally fell asleep, he decided
to speak to Tom as soon as Sunfire arrived at Rachar, whether that
communication put the P'Chi base at risk of being compromised or not.
He did not want to die hating the man he loved almost as much as his
parents.

"Harry!"

"What?"  Harry squinted in the harsh glare from the overhead light she
had flicked on as she entered his bedroom.  "What is it?"

"You must get up."

"You've contacted Voyager?"

"We found out some disturbing news before we could.  Get up and I'll
tell you."

Three minutes later, he joined her in the dining area the four of them
shared while in quarantine.  Ksu and Plwa already were seated at the
table, the remains of lunch on plates before them.

"What is it?" Harry asked Nru, taking his seat as she did hers.

"Word just came from one of our spies inside the Verta."  She laid a
hand over his.  "They've taken Voyager."

"Who has?  The Verta?  How?  I thought they were too small and
ill-equipped to do anything other than the occasional bombing or
shooting.  Taking Voyager would be a huge undertaking.  How-"

"Details are still sketchy, but the as far as we can tell, some of
your crew came down here to search for you.  There was an altercation
between one of them and two Rachar.  It's not known what was said, but
it must have been something horrible because she took offence and a
brawl broke out."

"*She* took offence?"  One name instantly came to his mind.  B'Elanna.
"So this brawl broke out. Then what?"

"Since it involved one of your crewmembers and two of our people and
at the time E'Arte and his clerk were on your ship, they beamed the
three of them up to Voyager.  Your Captain and E'Arte were about to
sort out the mess when the Verta hit another hospital.  E'Arte and
I'Nu beamed down here and the Rachar were to be held on Voyager for
the time being.  The two of them took over Voyager at some point after
that.  No one knows how."

"It just goes to show you how disorganized the Verta are," Ksu sighed
shaking his head.  "The ones on Voyager had E'Arte and I'Nu within
their reach.  But thanks to another faction, they lost them."

"Thankfully," Nru interjected deep purple eyes shifting to him.  "If
the Verta factions ever truly become organized, we're in for trouble."
She looked awkwardly at Harry. "To be frank, we downplayed their
threat.  We spend so long doing that for the sake of the populace that
we're starting to find it a second nature.  The truth is, we're barely
holding our own against them."

Harry blinked, stunned.

"There are at least a half a dozen different groups calling themselves
Verta.  None of them ever seem to communicate with one another or if
they do you wouldn't know it from the way they appear to work at
cross-purposes.  This is a classic example.  Doubtless, they would
have hoped to capture E'Arte as well as your ship only thanks to
another group's act, they didn't.  But do not misunderstand me, with
one of the factions in control of your ship the others will hear about
it and propose an alliance between the factions.  If the Verta become
united, we will have trouble."

"How can you be certain they are even in control?"

"Your Captain was able to send a brief message to E'Arte, telling him
what happened.  She was cut off before she could say much more than
the two Rachar prisoners had seized control.  No explanation of how or
anything."

"What about my crewmates on the surface?  The ones who were searching
for me?  Did they beam up with those involved in the altercation?"

"We don't know.  If they too are missing, we won't know until
Voyager's been liberated.  We don't have spies inside all of the
factions yet, unfortunately, so we can't know everything they're up
to.  Our informants are keeping their eyes and ears open.  That's all
we can do."

She ran her hands over her arms in what he now knew was the Rachar
equivalent of a human rubbing his or her face or the back of his or
her neck.  "There'll be a panic once our citizens know the Verta has
Voyager."  She shook her head.  " I don't even want to think about
it."

"My shipmates won't sit still for this, you know.  They'll be trying
to retake Voyager."

"Is there anyway you can help them?  I know on our own ships there is
a way to remotely access its functions in case of emergency.  Did your
ship's designer's include anything similar?"

He nodded.  "Yes, but I'll need a computer and a communications link."

Ksu frowned.  "That could be dangerous.  The Verta may trace it back
to here."

"We'll have to risk it," Nru insisted.  "We could be infectious.  It
is too risky to let us leave quarantine until the doctors are sure
we're safe.  And it would take too long for him to teach anyone else
to do what has to be done."  She nodded to Harry.  "We'll get you what
you need just give us a list."

---

E'Arte and I'Nu materialized inside an office, startling the Gherop
who was reading a report.  He leapt to attention.

"E'Arte," he saluted.  "All's ready.  The troops have been placed on
alert all over Rachar, ready to-"

"There's been a delay, D'Ere.  I'Nu, you have your orders.  Contact me
the minute it is met with success."

The clerk nodded and left the office.

He turned back to D'Ere.  "Take me to her."

The officer led him out of the office and into a lift at the end of
the corridor.

"Any trouble with the others?"

"Just the usual attempts to escape their cells.  Nothing we could not
handle."

"Good.  What about her?"

"There was a little trouble.  She awoke as we were about to toss her
into the cell you designated hers. But we managed to subdue her."

They stepped out into a damp and dimly lit corridor many levels
beneath the one they had left.  The sound of their footsteps echoed
throughout the stone tunnel many Rachar slaves had lost their lives in
drilling then clearing away the resulting debris.  But it had been
more than worth it in the Gherop's opinion. This subterranean
stronghold and prison was the envy of any in all of the Empire.  No
one had ever escaped from it.  Even more prestigious was the success
rate at breaking prisoners. Only one had not broken.  She had died
first.  He was sure their newest inmate, being the pampered soul she
was, would not be any different than the others.  In fact she might
break all the records and break faster than anyone.

"Open it up," he commanded the two guards flanking the door to a
particular cell.

One of the pair inserted a key into a slot in the wall next to the
doors, releasing the lock.  The other grasped the handle of the heavy
door and dragged it slowly open.

The cell beyond was in darkness.  A scurrying of insects could be
heard along with faint breathing. Holding his hand out for a light,
E'Arte received one from one of the guards and stepped into the cell
to have a little chat with Captain Kathryn Janeway.

---

At Seven's tap on his shoulder, Tom shut off the piece of equipment he
was using and removed his ear protection as she removed hers.

"Sunfire wishes to speak to you."

"Sunfire, go ahead," he called to the ceiling of the cargo hold.

"Gherop passed through here recently," the ship told him.

"How recently?"

"A few days at most."

"Great," he grimaced.  "How far are we from the rendezvous point?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Let's get this mess cleaned up then."

The former Borg looked him up and down.  "You are exhausted and are a
quite dirty, Lieutenant.  You should go shower and change."

Tom was about to thank her for the "compliment" when Neelix, having
heard her comment, changed his course to rush over and fuss too. "Yes,
Tom.  A good shower would perk you up.  We can take care of this."

Tom shook his head.  "No, I-"

"Oh, no you don't," Sunfire argued before he could.

Much to the surprise of the others and his own consternation, Sunfire
beamed him out of the hold and into his quarters where she kept him
locked in until he finally conceded and stood naked beneath a warm
water shower for a while.  A blast of cold water woke him minutes
later.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," she told him, "but you can sleep later."

Grumbling about first being told to sleep and now been told not to, he
dried himself off and dressed in his newly cleaned clothes.  By the
time he had reached the Bridge, Neelix and Seven already were there.
Judging by their immaculate faces and clothing, either Sunfire had
used similar tactics with them to get them to wash up or cleaning up
the hold had not been as big a job as he had thought.

"Feeling better, Lieutenant?" Seven enquired, trying to use her people
skills.

Distractedly, he gave her a brief nod.

Neelix sighed at the sight of Voyager.  "I bet they are going to be
happy to see us."  He looked at Tom who was frowning at the main
viewer.  "The first thing we have to do is have the Doctor take a look
at your injuries, Tom."  He whirled around to look at Seven.  "Not
that I don't think you did a good job, Seven."

"No offence taken, Mr. Neelix," she informed him.

"Good."  He turned back to Tom who still was frowning at Voyager.
"Tom, what is it?"

"I don't know," he mumbled.  "The ship....  The orbit's not quite...."
His eyes widened.  "Sunfire, check the orbit."

"The orbit's decaying.  Whoever's at the Helm clearly isn't paying
attention," the ship disapproved.

"Backdoor programme.  Find out who's at the Helm."

Seven moved to stand beside him.  "None of the pilots on Voyager are
inept enough to not notice Voyager's orbit is decaying."

"Exactly."

Neelix blinked.  "You don't think...."

"I don't know.  There might just be some problem with the navigational
controls again.  But if it isn't-"

"There's no one at the Helm," Sunfire confirmed.  She tapped into the
internal sensors and showed them a view of Voyager's empty Bridge.
"All ship's systems are locked down.  And it gets worse."

"How worse?"

"The entire crew is gone and there's an alien in Transporter Room One.
The good news is he's trapped in there.  Someone's put a level 10
forcefield over the door."

The screen changed to show a grey-skinned alien in an ugly mood.  He
was glaring at his practically useless console and arguing with
himself about the logic of abandoning ship before some security
programme took offence at his presence and blasted him and how nice it
was of E'Arte and I'Nu to leave him there all alone.

"Ever seen one of them before, Seven?"

"No, Lieutenant.  As of the time I left them, The Borg had never
assimilated any of his species."  She consulted the scans of the
planet she was doing at the Ops station.  "Nor members of the other
species on the planet either.  I am unable to provide any information
about them."

"There are two species on this planet."

"Yes."

"Just two."

"Yes."

There were many planets in the Alpha Quadrant with two dominant
species occupying them so why was his sixth sense was pricking at him
to warn him something was amiss about this one?  Shaking his head, he
discounted it and returned to the subject of the empty Voyager was not
right about this

"Sunfire, to be safe, encrypt Voyager's systems further.  Use the
Delta 19 encryption.  Even if they make it through the locks, the
encryption will keep them busy for quite a while. It's impossible to
crack without the right key," he said to the others.

"There are traces of transporter signals all over the ship," Seven
informed him.

"See if they got the Doctor, too," Tom asked, knowing it was a long
shot.

It paid off.

"His programme and mobile emitter still are in Sickbay."

"What about us?" Neelix interrupted worriedly.  "Won't Voyager see
us?"

"Calm down, Neelix," Tom soothed.  "I patched up the cloak.  Neither
Voyager nor any sensors from the surface can see us."

"But a patch is not-"

"When we have Voyager back, I'll have Engineering replicate the new
relay. I couldn't justify using that much energy when we might need
all we've got if we had to fight someone again.  The patch will hold
for a while yet.  Now I'll be back in a minute."

"Back?"

"I'm going to get the Doc.  Sunfire, beam me to Voyager's Sickbay."

---

In the relative safety of a Sickbay, the EMH had watched the invader
with consternation.  Less than pleased with what he was hearing and
seeing, he now wished he had rethought leaving them able to beam off
of and on to the ship.  By the time he had discovered Commander
Chakotay was not ignoring him but actually had disappeared from the
Bridge, it was too late to save the crew. All of them had been beamed
down to the surface then moved from the beam down point to somewhere
the sensors could not penetrate and the three in the Transporter Room
were talking about beaming their own kind up.  He had been left with
no choice but to seal them inside the room and restrict their access
to the ship's systems in the hopes they would reveal their plans for
Voyager.  As expected, they had bemoaned their lack of access, but had
not revealed their plans or the crew's new location.

He too was frustrated, especially when the two had left.  If he had
been smart, he would have killed all of their access to the
transporters.  His idea had been so logical Tuvok and Vorik would have
been proud. When they could not use Voyager as they wanted to, he had
expected they would bring up some of the crew to undo what he had
done.  From there it would be a simple matter of knocking out the
aliens and he and whomever they brought up could regain the ship and
rescue the rest of the crew.  He had not considered for a moment they
would actually *leave* Voyager to "talk" to the crew instead of
bringing them up.  That error may have cost him the crew's lives.

'But there was still hope,' he thought to himself.  Though it would
have galled him to admit it to anyone, he had every faith in Tom Paris
rushing in with Seven, Neelix, and Sunfire to save the day yet again.
After all, playing the hero was what Tom Paris did best.  Closely
followed by getting himself beamed into Sickbay, injured.

Not too unlike his tired condition as he beamed in now.

"Mr. Paris, am I glad to see you!" he sighed, forgoing his usual
sarcastic tone.  "Voyager's been taken over by-"

"I know.  I've seen them."

"Have they-"

"They haven't seen me, no.  But we'd best not stay here for long just
in case."  He gestured to the mobile emitter.  "You'd better transfer
your programme and we'll go back to Sunfire and talk this over."

"But the aliens-"

"Sunfire will take care of keeping them out of where they don't
belong.  Now let's go."

When they materialized on Sunfire's Bridge, the hologram did a 360,
taking in every detail.  He was at about 347 when Neelix engulfed him
in a hug.

"Oh, Doctor, I'm so glad to see you."

"Yes, I can tell," he grumbled, extricating himself from the
enthusiastic embrace.

Neelix stepped back reluctantly.  "You have to look at-"

"That can wait, Neelix," Tom interrupted, knowing Neelix was going to
tell the Doctor to examine Tom's healing injuries.  "Doctor, tell us
what you know."

And he did tell them what little he knew.  He told them about arriving
at Rachar, the Captain, Carey, and Tuvok going to lunch, and was up to
the political situation on the planet regarding E'Arte's people and
the Verta when Tom stopped him.

"The grey aliens, what are they called?"

The Doctor shrugged.  "I know the multi-coloured ones are Rachar, but
when the Captain tried to ask the grey ones what their species' name
was, E'Arte, their leader, became very agitated.  Said they are the
leaders of the Rachar now and whatever they once were was irrelevant
then he changed the subject.  When he heard about this, Commander
Chakotay spouted something about some class he took at the Academy in
governmental studies.  Something about to maintain the peace in a
society living under foreign leadership the foreign leaders have to
become, or at least maintain the appearance of having become, locals
so the locals do not feel resentful that outsiders are leading them.
Or something like that.  Frankly, I wasn't really paying close
attention.

Ordinarily Tom might have nodded and admitted he sometimes tuned the
Commander out too.  He did not comment however as his mind was trying
to make all of the pieces in the Rachar history fit and something was
amiss.

When he had been a little boy, his maternal grandmother had given him
a family heirloom - an old wooden box with an equally old wooden
jigsaw puzzle inside.  All of the pieces were of polished hardwood
without any markings on them to indicate what went where and the shape
of the finished puzzle was a mystery.  It had taken him hours to
assemble the puzzle from the huge pile of pieces in the box and just
as he was about to set the last piece in place he discovered he had
made a mistake somewhere for the perimeter was not smooth.  Somewhere
there was a piece out of place and it had thrown all of the others out
of whack as well.

This was how he felt right now.  Something was out of place only he
could not figure out what it was.

"When did the crew disappear?" Seven asked as Tom brooded.

"It started yesterday when Mr. Kim disappeared."

Tom's eyes snapped back to him.

"He was down on the planet.  I don't know who has him for certain, but
the grey aliens claimed it had to be the Verta.  Whether they do or
the greys do, I don't know."

"What about the others?"

"Today at 1416.  From 1410 to 1416, I was talking to Commander
Chakotay over the Comm.  I was in Sickbay, he was on the Bridge, and I
was telling him about the Rachar food, how I had confirmed the
preliminary scans Mr. Tuvok had taken at lunch the day before.  The
food and water are safe for the crew's consumption.  As I was
finishing up my report, I heard a couple of soft thuds.  I knew it
wasn't from Sickbay since I was alone so I asked the Commander if it
was on his end.  I received no answer so I tried again then checked
the computer to see if something was wrong with the Comm system.  It
wasn't, so I checked the readings of the Bridge crew thinking
something was wrong with them and it was.  Every one of them was gone
except for the three grey aliens."

"What 'three grey aliens'?"

"E'Arte, his clerk, and another one who never left the Transporter
Room.  I never met any of them. The Captain was planning to bring
E'Arte and the clerk by Sickbay at some point during their tour of
Voyager only they never arrived there."

"How did the crew get off of the ship?"

"They beamed them off.  I don't know exactly how he did it, but the
one in the Transporter Room must have figured out the transporters. Or
he was shown how to use them, though I can't picture Lieutenant Torres
or Ensign Nozawa being indiscreet enough to show someone who wasn't a
part of the crew how use our technology without first getting the
Captain's permission."

"B'Elanna and Nozawa?"

"The records show they were in the Transporter Room with the alien who
was doing the beaming for almost thirty minutes prior to the crew
falling asleep and leaving.  It is doubtful he managed to figure out
how the transporter worked in the twenty seconds between when they
fell asleep and the crew began their enforced exodus."

"Do you know precisely where they were beamed to?"

"I have the spot on the surface they went to, but by the time I
scanned it to bring them back, they had been moved."

"Sunfire, check the transporter logs.  Find me this 'spot'."

"Already on it."  A map appeared on the main viewer of the mountainous
area outside of the Capital. "They were beamed inside of here.  It's
some sort of structure built into the side of those mountains.  I can
scan part of it.  There are natural caverns inside and they've
expanded them.  It appears to stretch quite far down below the surface
only I can't penetrate any farther than a few levels."

"Astrometrics' sensors should be able to scan farther," Seven told
her. "Access them."

The others crowded around behind Seven's chair.

"I was correct.  There are at least ten levels below the caverns.
There are indication of more extending beyond sensor range."

Tom leaned in.  "Life signs?"

"Numerous.  The grey aliens, Rachar, plus faint Bajoran, Vulcan,
Terran, Bolian-"

"Voyager's crew," he interrupted.  "Enough to account for all of
them?"

"All but two."

"Can you tell which two?"

"The Captain and Ensign Kim it appears."

"Makes sense," Tom nodded.  "Regarding the Captain, I mean.  Keep her
isolated from the rest and thereby distracting and demoralizing the
rest of the crew by making them wonder if she's dead or what.
Meanwhile they interrogate her for her command codes."

"If she's still alive that is," the EMH interjected blackly.

Neelix frowned in worry.

Tom laid a hand on the Talaxian's shoulder.  "Until we have evidence
to the contrary, we will continue to assume she is still alive.  The
same goes for Harry.  Seven, start the Astrometrics sensors searching
for Harry and the Captain."

"They tried to find Mr. Kim," the EMH interjected.  "They couldn't
find him."

"Try anyway, Seven.  Sunfire, are you able to beam up the others?"

The ship was silent for a second as she attempted to establish a
transporter lock on them.  "No go. There's too much rock between us
and them.  I can't get a solid lock on them.  Pattern enhancers will
have to be set up before I attempt it."

"Which means someone has to get inside there to do it."

"I can achieve a hundred percent lock on anyone as far as the fourth
level down.   They're on the ninth. If you can set up the enhancers,
say even on the sixth level, it should be enough for me to get them."

"What's the various levels?"

"The caverns appears to be storage rooms for land vehicles, equipment,
and weapons," Seven reported.  "Levels one and two are offices,
conference rooms, and quarters. Levels three through ten are labs and
cells.  Even if we beamed down to the fourth level we would be seen
and captured immediately. Levels two through ten are full of
activity," Seven informed them.

The EMH turned to Tom.  "So, Lieutenant, you're the expert here.  What
do we do?"

Tom touched Seven and indicated she was to rise.  "I need to review
the layout for that place.  There has to be some way into the section
we want that'll bypass most of the guards."

"So what do you want us to do?"

"Sunfire, keep watch on Voyager," he said as he began examining the
scans of the base.  "I..." Tom's voice tapered off as he leaned closer
to the schematic of tunnels on his display.  A satisfied grin began to
appear on his face.  "Sunfire, double check this."  He highlighted a
section of the schematic leading from the surface downward.

"An old airshaft or construction tunnel maybe," she answered.  "Parts
of it have collapsed but there seems to be enough space for someone to
squeeze through if they're skinny enough.  All of it's collapsed
beyond the fifth level."

"Why are you so interested in this shaft?" the EMH began to complain.
"We ought to be getting ready to bust in there and-"

"And get everyone killed, Doc.  As you said yourself, I'm the expert
here so what I say goes.  This has to be a cloak and dagger operation.
In and out.  Smooth and silent.  No *busting* or the next thing busted
probably will be the crew's necks."

The hologram reluctantly conceded the point.

"I'm investigating this because I never go in anywhere without knowing
I have an alternate exit or two in case the primary is compromised."
He sighed at the monitor. "Actually, looking at how populated the
upper levels are, I might just make the shaft the primary and the
transporters the back up.  If I take the shaft down to the fifth
level, I only have to be in the open for one level to get down to the
sixth instead of two since the transporters can only get me to the
fourth.  Seven, while the sensors are looking for Harry and the
Captain, try hacking your way into their systems.  I'll need a
diversion to get out of the tunnel and into the hall and go down that
last level to place the enhancers."

"I will try," Seven assured him.

"Work with Sunfire.  Hacking is her area of expertise."

Eager, Neelix stepped closer to Tom.  "What can I do?"

"Go over the scans of the system.  See if you can figure out where the
greys might have their ships hidden."

This statement caused the Talaxian to frown over the views of Rachar
showing on the upper right corner of the display before them.
Highlighted were the main areas of tactical concern were the Rachar to
attack them, namely areas of concentrated weapons and something of
great importance given his assignment. "But those are hangars, aren't
they?"

"There's been too much traffic for those few ships alone to have done
it all.  Besides, those ones aren't built for long range flight.  The
greys had to have arrived here somehow.  I doubt they'd come then send
their ships home, wherever home is, without some way of getting
themselves home in an emergency.  I don't want to get the crew back
only to be surprised by a fleet appearing out of nowhere."

"Maybe that's why they want Voyager," the Doctor suggested.  "To get
themselves home."

"Did they give any indications of wanting to leave?  I don't see any
down there on the surface.  If they were expecting to leave, they
would have dismantled their computers and equipment, all the things
they clearly they brought with them.  They wouldn't have gone to all
the trouble to bring them then leave them behind.  And if they wanted
to leave so badly, why didn't they merely take any of the other ships
that have visited Rachar?  Why did they wait for Voyager to come along
instead of seizing one of the others?"  He shook his head.  "No, I
think you'll find they are staying but want Voyager for something,
probably her technology or any other ship would have sufficed."

"I'll see if I can find them," Neelix promised.

"Sunbird, if you're going to go down that shaft, I won't be able to
beam you right into it.  It's too unstable."  She sighed.  "You know,
I'm really beginning to hate the surface of this planet."

Tom smiled at that.  "How close can you get me?"

"One hundred, seventeen metres from the opening would be safest.
There's not much cover though. And there are some Rachar in the area.
Children.  They appear to be berry picking."

"It'll be night soon there, but still, I'll have to blend in.  Doctor,
you up to making me look like a native Rachar?"

"Why not make you up to be a grey?" the hologram frowned.  "You're
going into their den.  It would make more sense to look like one of
them."

"But it's faster if I look like a Rachar.  Change my skin pigment,
lengthen my hair, change my clothes and I'm one of them.  To pass for
a grey would take some surgery and padding.  They look a lot bigger
than me.  A Rachar is simpler."

"I'll come too," Neelix offered.

Tom shook his head.  "It'll be quicker for the Doc to make me look
Rachar than you.  Speed is essential here.  We don't know what they're
doing to the crew or if they'll actually be able to break the codes
and take over Voyager.  We can't delay.  Besides, I need you here,
watching for Gherop and looking for the greys' ships.  Sunfire and
Seven can't do it all."

In reality, Sunfire was a computer, despite her organic origin and
personality.  She was capable of performing millions of tasks all at
once, but it was the kindest way Tom could think of to keep his friend
from risking his life when he did not have to.  Also, the fib meant he
did not have to hurt the rotund male's feelings by telling him he was
too sizeable to fit through the narrow openings in the semi-collapsed
shaft.

Reluctantly, the Talaxian nodded and Tom patted his shoulder.  "Doc,
let's go to Sickbay."  He saw the hologram frown at him as he headed
for the turbolift instead of calling for the ship to beam them to
Voyager.  "Sunfire's Sickbay.  It's is fully equipped, I assure you.
We do this sort of disguises rather frequently."

"Fine."  He hurried after Tom.  "Lieutenant, you are walking
strangely," he remarked as they descended to the Sickbay's deck.

"There was an accident.  My legs were broken."

"Who fixed them?  Surely not you."

"Seven fixed them while I supervised."

"I see."  Pretending nonchalance he did not feel, the EMH casually
tossed out his next question as they strode down the corridor and into
Sickbay.  "How long ago was this?"

"Three days."  Tom called up a file on the computer on the counter
just inside of the doors and left the EMH to review the report on the
incident while he gathered the instruments they would need for his
transformation.

The hologram nearly did a jig.  He was right.  Tom *had* been injured
at the same time the aching in B'Elanna's legs had begun.  "Have you
experience any weakness in them since."

"Doc, can we discuss this later?"

He turned to find the human in the process of removing his black silk
boxers.  The rest of his attire was lying over a nearby stool.  "It is
important."  The reasoning he gave was about the need for Mr. Paris to
be fit and able bodied to perform what doubtless was to be a very
strenuous mission.  And it was true.  If Tom's legs suddenly gave out
on him while he was out of the reach of the transporters, they would
have to mount a rescue mission to rescue the rescue mission.  The
other, unspoken reason was his research. B'Elanna had experienced that
second period of aching weakness and if Tom had not, then his broken
legs and the aching in hers would have to be discounted as mere
coincidence and his research would go out the airlock.

"He did," Sunfire answered for Tom then furnished the Doctor with the
exact date and time index.

As he began using the instrument to change Tom's fair skin to pale
blue, the hologram could not keep the smile off of his face.

"Happy you've got an ally now, Doc?"

"Oh, yes," he smiled, deciding not to tell him of his suspicions about
Lieutenant Torres' or the shared pain phenomenon.  'Better to continue
keeping all except the Captain and himself in the dark,' he thought to
himself.  'Wouldn't want to run the risk of compromising the results
of such an important investigation.'

---

Harry swore and slapped the desktop next to the computer.

"What is it?" Nru asked, startled out of her discussion with Ksu only,
Plwa having disappeared into his bedroom some moments earlier.

"I made it through the first level of locks.  That took a while, but
was no big problem.  All they'd done was somehow use our own codes to
lock the systems.  But once I made it passed that, I found an
encryption code unlike anything I've ever seen."

Nru and Ksu gave each other a frown.  He could not break codes his own
people had instituted?  Both wondered if Harry had figured out
something was amiss with their story and was lying.  The alternative
was he was telling the truth and the moment his people had discovered
him missing they had taken steps to ensure any information he
confessed to his captors would not be of danger to Voyager.  Given the
intelligence they had on this one, they were pretty certain the latter
was the case.  Harry Kim was a terribly honest person and a horrible
liar.  That was the reason they had single out him of all the crew to
use in this way.  Since it was not in his nature to prevaricate, they
were certain to know the moment he was trying to lie.  This was not
that moment.

"Can you decipher it?"

"I don't know, but I'll have to try.  My crew's depending on me."
Scooting his chair closer to the desk, he resumed his efforts.

---

When the Doctor and Tom rejoined the two on the Bridge, Tom was a
changed man - literally.  Gone was the close cropped hair, fair skin,
and tidy clothes.  In their place were shaggy navy blue hair, pale
blue skin, and a shapeless light brown tunic over equally shapeless
light brown trousers.  Even his posture was different.  The normally
tall and graceful figure had become stooped and shuffling, though the
Doctor had finished healing his legs.  Only the sky blue eyes remained
the same.  Or at least at a distance they did.  Up close one could see
the eyes had a strange sheen to them.  It was due to the night vision
contact lenses he was wearing so he could easily see in the dark shaft
and the night that was about to fall on the half of the planet where
he needed to be.

Neelix boggled at him.  "Tom?"

Seven nodded approvingly.  "I believe the natives will be fooled,
Lieutenant."

"That is the plan," Tom agreed, straightening.  "Sunfire, readings
from the subdermal communicator?"

"All normal," she said, distractedly.

"What is it?"

"Someone's just broken the Doctor's locks.  The access codes match
that of Harry Kim."

"Origin of the signal?"

She showed him and everyone's eyes widened.

After a moment's silence, Tom spoke again.  "Any sign of the Captain?"

"None yet."

Tom swore softly.  "I don't like doing things piecemeal like this. The
minute the crew disappears the alarm's going to be raised. They'll
know someone's here, even if they can't see us.  Wherever the Captain
is, she's sure to be moved to some place even more secure or at least
the security will be beefed up."  He rubbed his long fingered hands
over his face.  "Okay, this is what we're going to do.  Neelix, keep
looking for Gherop and greys.  Doctor, take over watching the grey on
Voyager. Seven, confine yourself to finding the Captain. Sunfire,
crack the greys' systems.  I'm going to need a diversion to get out of
the tunnel and into the hallway.  Once on level six, I'll set the
enhancers then go after Harry.  When I have him, begin beaming the
crew up to Voyager.  Hopefully, we'll have found the Captain as well
by that point and we can grab her at the same time.  Any questions?"

No one said anything.

"Sunfire, if you please?"

A pack materialized at his feet.  A quick inventory to double-check
the contents was undertaken. A wrist lamp as back up for his contact
lenses, a spare combadge in case his subdermal one went awry, his
phaser pistol, a medkit, and the enhancers lay inside.  Unlike the
standard issue pattern enhancers Starfleet used, the AlphaOmegan ones
were small disks slightly smaller and thinner than Tom's hand.  They
required no stands to support them like their Starfleet cousins did.
These merely were attached to a wall or discretely dropped on the
floor and they did their job.  Satisfied he was well provisioned, he
checked for his stiletto in its sheath in his boot and small tricorder
he had attached to the strap on his wrist like a twentieth century
watch.  Everything was where it should be.

"Ready."

"You're sure you don't want to wear your phaser?" Neelix asked
worriedly.

"Too noticeable.  I'll be able to get at it if I need it.  Hopefully,
I won't need it at all anyway."

"Be careful."

Tom nodded then disappeared in a transporter beam.

---

As dusk was falling, they had picked up their full berry baskets and
finally noticed one of the smaller children in their group was
missing.  Dtu, who as the oldest of the thirteen children who had been
sent out from their village that dawn to collect Hwa-Hwa berries was
the de facto leader of the group.  She checked everyone's lanterns
were working then immediately ordered them to split up to search the
rapidly darkening area.  She herself found Lre only a short time
later, coming towards her.

"Where have you been?" Dtu demanded of the little girl.  "You were
supposed to be helping us."

"I found another patch of berries and-"

"These are Jpa berries," she said dumping out the basket of the
poisonous, Hwa-Hwa look-a-likes. "You didn't eat any, did you?"

"No, but I saw something weird," she impatiently whispered as others
of the search party came upon them.

"What did you see?"

"I saw a male appear out of nowhere and go that way."  She pointed
towards the mountain and the stronghold all Rachar in the area knew
was a prison and tactical installation for the Gherop.

"A traitor?" Jmi, one of the older children, offered.

"Perhaps," Dtu mused.  "Did you recognize him?  Was he P'Chi?"

The little girl shook her head.  "No, he looked like us, not them."

Looking up as the last of the children ran towards them, Dtu began
firing off orders.  "Jmi, Lta, and Pmka stay with me.  The rest of you
go back to the village.  Go to my mother.  She'll be at home and tell
her what Lre saw and that we're going to check this out."

"We are?" Jmi gasped.

"Yes."

Though their Gherop masters did not know it, the tiny village the
children came from was the main Verta base of operations.  Not every
one of the villagers knew this, but Dtu did.  Her father, mother, and
oldest brother were active in the Verta.  Her father himself was
rather high up in the ranks.  And Dtu wanted to be too some day.  She
dreamed of helping them, maybe even being the one responsible for
forcing their enslavers from their world once and for all.  It was
this thought that made her want to go after the presumed traitor.

After much objection, the others went and the four snuck after their
quarry.

---

There was little mystery as to why the entrance to the tunnel was free
of security measures - it was practically plugged.  A landslide had
obscured all but the narrow opening Tom wiggled through.  As he
carefully made his way along a passage no one other than wildlife had
traversed in some time, it brought back memories from long ago.  For
once they were not horrific ones.

Everywhere it was pitch black except above.  There were minute
pinpricks in the black velvet curtain. Only the thinnest of slivers of
Sol's moon marred the perfection of the Heavens.  Oh, how he wanted to
be up there, amongst those stars.  And one day soon he would be.  *If*
he did well enough on this exercise to impress the Academy brass.  The
Admiral - through his aide as usual - had said in his last
transmission that the better Tom did during this BRAT camp exercise,
the greater his chances for early admission to the Academy.  And Tom
wanted to get into the Academy almost as much as the Admiral wanted
him there. Naturally, Owen and his son did not have the same reasons
for that desire. Owen envisioned Tom's entrance into the Academy as
the first step in following in the footsteps of other Parises and
going on to greatness.  Tom merely wanted any path that would lead to
his sitting at the helm of a starship.

He, with his contraband night vision contacts, did a scan of the area
before moving a millimetre.  No surprises waiting for him out there.
Nothing but rocks, dirt, and a few nocturnal animals.  Exactly as he
had expected.  He reached into his jacket pocket for the tricorder he
had been issued along with the rest of his equipment.  Of course, it
was not operating within the same parameters as it had been when given
to him.  He tapped out a series of commands then immediately he slunk
off into the darkness, knowing the BRAT camp's monitoring devices were
displaying exactly what he wanted them to see - him sound asleep and
unmoving.

Ingenuity was what was called for were he to impress the jaded
officials who had seen everything during the years the camp had
operated and he was going to give it to them. After all, the Admiral
*had* said showing some initiative would get the attention of the
Brass.  This would get their attention like nothing else.

Finding the squad of Starfleet Ranger cadets on a training exercise
was a stroke of luck.  Instantly, he scrapped his original plan and
improvised.  He slipped his tricorder back into his pack, took out his
wrist lamp, switched it on, then bold as brass walked right into the
middle of their encampment and sat down next to the cadet wearing the
insignia of the squad leader.

"Hi ya," he greeted, looking every millimetre the innocent fifteen
year old he was not.  "What you doing?"

The jaws of every single cadet dropped.

"Who...?  Where...?" the leader stammered.

He stuck out his hand to her.  "Tom Paris.  How you doing?"

She looked at his hand like she never had seen one before.
Tentatively, she shook it.  "Jacqui Marquez. What are you doing out
here in the middle of the outback?"

Removing his pack, he set it at his feet and gestured to it saying
nothing.

"You're hiking, by yourself, in the middle of the Outback, at night?"

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"So where are you headed."

"Yuendumu."

"That's quite a ways off."

Another shrug.  "About a day's hike.  What about all of you?  What are
you doing out here?  It's a funny place for a camp out."

"Training exercise."

Tom looked at their uniforms as though not having noticed them before.
"Wow, really?  Are you Starfleet?"

She nodded.  "Rangers."

"Oh, wow.  That's so cool."

Her brow and those of the others in her squad wrinkled.  "Cool?"

"Twentieth Century slang.  It means a combination of great and
interesting and fun."

"Oh."

"Can I stay here tonight?  I've never met real Starfleet Rangers
before."

His tone was ingratiating without being nauseating.  His face showed
only eagerness.  Still, as he had hoped the second in command and the
leader cast each other looks.

"If you will excuse us for a moment?" Cadet Marquez said and she and
the young male who was her second rose and moved off a couple of
metres.

"I don't like this," Tom's keen ears heard her second say, despite the
other cadets resuming chattering amongst themselves.  "What's a kid
his age doing out here, all alone, in the middle of the night."

"A runaway maybe," his leader suggested.

"Maybe.  Or maybe it's part of the exercise.  You know my brothers all
went through this same training years ago.  I can remember them
griping about the surprises they had had pulled on them.  The
instructors deliberately changing the scenario midway through the
exercise so they would have to improvise and think on their feet.
They'd walk into an ambush.  The intell they'd have received during
their mission briefing would be all wrong but they wouldn't find out
until they had landed.  The objective wouldn't be where it was
supposed to be.  All that kind of thing.  What if this is one of those
things?"

"What if they're trying to see what we'd do if a civilian suddenly
wandered into the equation is what your saying."

"Yes."

"But he's just a kid."

"And very innocuous looking.  What better to put us off our guards? If
they were throwing a hydrospanner into the works, he's just the kind
of person they'd send.  If they sent some huge... battle- scared
Klingon to do it, we'd be on guard for sure."

"But we're still on guard.  A kid out here, in the middle of the night
is very suspicious."

"But if it weren't for my having heard my brothers talking about their
training exercise horror stories, we wouldn't know he could be sent by
the brass.  We'd automatically take him at face value or think he was
a runaway.  If we thought the latter, we would break radio silence to
call the authorities to return him to his family and the enemy would
pinpoint us for sure.  They'd swoop down on us and we'd get an 'F'
grade and be out of the programme faster than we could open our mouths
to explain our failure.  I don't know about you, Marquez, but I worked
hard to get here.  Every Dante male and half of the females for the
last three generations has been in the Rangers and I'm not going to be
the one to break tradition."

"So it's rock and a hard place time.  If he is a runaway, we can't
leave him out here on his own for something to happen to him because
our butts would really be in a sling then.  If he's a plant, we can't
let him go or he'll reveal our position to the 'hostiles', but we also
can't keep him because he could sabotage us."

"You're the leader.  What do we do?"  He shot her a sarcastic grin.
"Killing him clearly isn't an option."

She gave him an exasperated sigh.  "You're never going to let me
forget that simulation, are you.  And it *was* a solution to the
problem, even if the computer said it wasn't permissible."  She
sighed.  "We really have no choice but to keep him with us.  Have him
watched.  Rotating shifts of two hours until morning. Keep him at the
fire and all chatter kept to minimum.  I want him in the dark about
our strengths and attack plan."

"What about in the morning?"

"If he is a runaway, someone will have noticed he is missing by then.
He doesn't look dirty enough to have been out here more than a few
hours so he may not have been missed yet.  Once he is, they'll use the
planetary sensors to locate him and his family or the authorities will
come for him."

"And if he's not a runaway?"

"Then we'll have to figure out what to do with him by then.  Tell
everyone to go to bed.  I'll take first watch with him and see if I
can get him to open up.  He might talk to me."

But Tom had kept up his charade all night.  Each of the cadets
obviously had been warned about the possibility of his being a plant.
All did their best to keep him on safe subjects like his family, the
stars, school, anything but the subject he - in his role of fascinated
Ranger-wanna-be - was determined to discuss - what it was like to be a
Ranger cadet.

All the while, he had his modified tricorder out, supposedly recording
their answers to his questions for a school report he was going to
right once the school holiday was over.  In reality he had interfaced
with their equipment and was hacking into their database to give them
a new "target."  By the time the others awoke in the morning, they
suddenly no longer were on the approved Ranger exercise but were
helping him to achieve his BRAT camp exercise "target."

And he even had solved their little dilemma of who he really was and
what to do with him.  A well- timed "slip" about "being in no hurry
because no one was expecting him in Yuendumu" confirmed for them the
idea he was a runaway.  Marquez, in her best motherly tone, had coaxed
the gangly youth into "admitting" he had run away without leaving a
note for his parents and was going to Yuendumu to see his grandmother
who "understood him", unlike his parents.

Feeling much better about the situation, they had tried to convince
him to go home, but he would have none of it.  He "wanted to help
them."  He always had wanted to be a Ranger and if he could help them,
maybe his parents could see he could do this and they'd let him apply
once he'd graduated school, instead of making him "go into the family
business of replicator repair." Marquez - like most females - had
fallen for his pleading look and relented.  So it was with a
contingent of Ranger cadets that Tom achieved his target hours before
any of this fellow Campers even had emerged from the Outback.

Of course, there had been Hell to pay from the officials and the
cadets' instructors and much later Owen, but Tom had neatly justified
his actions, even going so far as to convince the cadets' instructors
that this should not be considered a failure on the cadets' part.  He
had stressed the strengths of the cadets, but had not glossed over the
weaknesses either.  He also had not minced words about the lack of
communication between the BRAT camp officials and the Rangers.  The
fact he would not have been able to pull this off it they had alerted
each other they were in the area was a huge point in his favour.  As
was the fact there was nothing in the rules of the camp actually
forbidding anything he had done.

All in all, it had been quite the humbling experience for all but the
one who had been expected to be humbled.  The twenty-three adults in
the conference room had expected they would be the ones doing all the
talking and chastising, not the fifteen year old who was showing all
the presence and mastery of a situation that Parises always did.

In the end, they had buried the entire incident to preserve their
public images.  How would it have looked if word had got out future
Rangers had been tricked by a fifteen year old with some computer
skills and a lot of acting ability?  For the good of all, Tom had been
given an "A" for the exercise and excused from the rest of the camp.
The cadets had been given "B"s and returned to their studies.  The
Camp officials and Rangers' instructors each began redrafting their
rules for exercises and redesigning their computer security systems so
nothing like this could ever happen again.  And no one had asked Tom
for an explanation of how he had managed to do what he had, not even
Tom himself. He had wondered at the time where the skills had come
from, but he had shoved it aside as things learned through osmosis,
that he might not have been paying strict attention in all of his
classes, but his brain had taken in the information anyway.

Tom jerked back to the present and very nearly stumbled.   It had not
been osmosis, he now realized. His "Tom Paris" life and "AlphaOmegan
41783" life overlapping when Raven had arranged for him to see his
father's file and the notation about his being tortured by the
Cardassians had not been the first time. Now he could remember other
things he had been taught by Alpha Two and the other Alphas and the
technicians, things he had used in his "civilian" life.  Since he had
Awoken all those months ago, he had known he was what the Alphas had
made him.  However, that had not stopped him from hoping there was at
least a chance that some of his past achievements and disasters were
of his own doing, not dictated by the Training or deliberately
arranged by the Protectors.  Now he knew that was not true.  There
really was absolutely nothing left of the Tom Paris who had been meant
to be before the Protectors came onto the scene.

Shaking his head, he forced back the tears that threatened and
continued on, concentrating totally on his objective until he reached
level 5, dusty with hands scraped.  After wiping his face clean and
fluffing his hair and clothes to shake out the dust, he moved forwards
to crouch near the grate covering the outlet to the corridor.
Momentarily, he paused remembering other times he had done this yet
with a far different outcome in mind.  No one was going to die this
time.  Not if he could help it and certainly not by his hand. All the
same, he triple checked his stiletto and phaser pistol just in case.

Suddenly, the lights in the hallway went out without warning.  'They
managed to crack their systems,' Tom smiled as he removed the grate
cover and joined the chaos in the hall mere seconds before the pale
blue emergency lights came on.


---


In the lift, on their way back to the upper levels, D'Ere was silent
as E'Arte grumbling to him about Janeway's stubborn refusal to talk.
Then the lights went out and the lift shuddered to a halt, brakes
screeching as they clamped on to keep them from falling.  They were
only stuck there for a brief moment until the emergency power faintly
illuminated the car and resumed their ascension, still it was a very
unhappy E'Arte who stormed into the room where I'Nu was speaking with
D'Ere's clerk.

"What just happened?" E'Arte demanded.

"A temporary power failure," I'Nu explained.  "They have them from
time to time.  Maintenance has been dispatched to handle it."

"I see."  He was only slightly calmed.  "Progress report?"

"C'Nar reports no luck with Voyager."

"Tell him to keep trying."

---

When the lights went out so had Harry's computer.  His frustrated
groan was overshadowed by the scuffling noise he heard an instant
before the blue glow lit the room.  A huge form in an all-concealing
cloak was standing over the unconscious, possibly dead bodies of Ksu
and Nru.  Before he could move, the figure was beside him, one hand
clamped over Harry's mouth, the other around Harry's right bicep to
hold him in place.

"Listen, and listen carefully," a voice from inside the shadows of the
hood whispered urgently.  "You are in a Gherop base-"

"Gherop?!" Harry gasped behind the hand.

"Listen!  Don't speak!  Now turn around."

The hands released him and forced him to do as ordered.  Harry was
certain at any moment he would be shot in the back.  Instead, the
clothes the figure had been wearing were thrust piece by piece into
Harry's hands.

"Put these on.  Now!"

Quickly, he began yanking on the clothes over his uniform while the
voice continued.

"Your ship deliberately was attacked by the Gherop.  It was all part
of a plan to verify the reports E'Arte had received of her
capabilities.  That's why any time your Captain attempted to contact
the attackers to diffuse the situation they would not respond.  You
could not be permitted to see their faces or once you arrived here,
you'd recognize them and not fall for their lies."

"But how did they know we'd come here?"

"They ensured it by herding you in this direction, inflicting just
enough damage that you would be certain to come to Rachar for repairs,
but not be destroyed."

"But how'd they know we'd come here?"

"Because there are no other planets of sufficient advancement to
provide you with parts.  Once you arrived they planned to take Voyager
and use it to end the rebellion of their slaves here."

"Slaves?" Harry tried to turn around only to have the hooded cloak
flung over his head.

"Don't turn around!  Just listen and put that on.  There's not much
time. You were kidnapped as part of their plan.  They were lying to
you.  You're not infectious.  They gave you the welt deliberately to
make you think it a possibility and keep you from demanding to be
returned to your people.  They wanted you available so when Voyager
was taken, you could answer any questions they had and teach her how
to use her."

"It was all a lie."

"Yes.  They're the evil ones, not the Verta.  The rebels are fighting
for their freedom.  The only ones they kill are the Gherop and the
P'Chi."

"But they're Rachar."

"And collaborators with the Gherop enslavers.  They betray their own
people in order to live privileged lives.  But we don't have time for
this.  We will talk more later.  In these clothes, with the low level
of light, they won't suspect anything.  Just don't show your face to
them!  Take this."  A piece of paper was pressed into Harry's hand.
"This will show you the way out.  Go straight into the woods.  Wait
there.  You will be met.  Now go."

Unceremoniously, Harry was shoved out into a mercifully empty hallway
without ever knowing the identity of his saviour.

---

Tom was counting his lucky stars.  So far none of the Rachar or greys
he had passed had challenged him as to his presence.  They were all
too intent on rushing to their destinations to take note of an
unfamiliar face also rushing somewhere.  Because of this, it was a
simple matter for him to descend to the next level and begin setting
his enhancers.  His casually attaching them to the walls here and
there was not noticed in all the confusion.

"Sunbird," Sunfire said over the communicator lodged under the skin
behind his left ear, "one more should do it."

He made a soft, affirmative noise and continued down the hall. "Done,"
he whispered a moment later.

"I've got locks on all of them and on the grey on Voyager."

"I have a 42 percent lock on the Captain," he heard Seven say in the
background.

"Where?" he whispered.

"Level eleven."

He started down the steps to the next level.  "She alone?"

"Two greys two metres from her."

"Any further sign of Harry?"

"No," she responded with what he thought may have been a touch of
regret. Of course it might not have been.  The farther he descended,
the more difficult it was becoming to hear those on Sunfire clearly.

"Keep a lock on the others and be ready to beam them out," he
instructed as he passed five greys having a very loud argument.  "I'll
get to the Captain."

---

"Lieutenant, repeat," Seven commanded.  "Lieutenant."

"There's a glitch in the communications systems," Sunfire complained.
"I'm tracking it down now.

Seven rose from her station.  "When you find it, I'll begin repairs if
you instruct me regarding your systems."

Neelix impatiently interrupted.  "How long will that take?  It sounded
like he wanted us to beam them out now."

"There was more to the message," the EMH frowned.

"Yes," Seven concurred "but what was it?"

"He said he wanted to get them out all at once," Sunfire insisted.
"All of them disappearing will raise the alarm and make it more
difficult for him to get the Captain and-"

The Talaxian refused to be swayed.  "But the raised voices we heard.
While we're standing here debating, the crew could be in trouble.  He
could have been trying to tell us there was a change in the plan and
to not wait."

The ship could not argue with him there.  Reluctantly, she made "an
executive decision" as Tom called it.  "Okay, let's do it and hope
we're right."

---

C'Nar suddenly materialized in the middle of nowhere on the surface.
For at least a minute, he looked around, not believing what had
happened.  At last, he shook off the confusion and reached for his
communicator.  It was dead.  No other option available, he immediately
began hiking for the settlement in the distance to report in.

---

Voyager's crew began materializing all over the ship over the next two
minutes.  Chakotay, who appeared on the Bridge with the others who had
been in the nearby cells, instantly leapt up the stairs to the
Tactical console and began reviewing their status.  The others were
dispatched to man the various other stations.   Only briefly did he
glance up when the turbolift doors opened and Tuvok entered.

"Commander," the Vulcan nodded and assumed his station as the First
Officer stepped back.

"I don't know what's going on," Chakotay admitted.  "I can't access
anything."

"Perhaps we can remedy that situation," the EMH said in a superior
tone as he and Neelix appeared next to the Helm and Seven at Ops.  "Or
rather Sunfire can."

"It's done," Seven announced as all over Voyager control was returned
to the rightful users - the crew.

Chakotay hurried over to the two males near the Helm.  "What's going
on?"

"A rescue," the Doctor said with a smug look.  "And a rather
successful one so far."

"So far?"

"Mr. Paris is going after the Captain now.  Ensign Kim however remains
out of reach though we have a general location.  Seven of Nine is
attempting to narrow it down now."

Neelix turned to Baytart sitting open mouthed, starting at him from
the Helm.  "Ensign, you may want to correct Voyager's orbit before she
crashes."

"What?" Pablo jerked and whirled around to check his board.  His
fingers flew across the console and made the necessary corrections.

"How did you know that?" Chakotay asked.

"Tom noticed it the instant he saw Voyager from Sunfire.  He couldn't
do anything about it because the greys might have seen the correction
and realized someone had to be accessing the ship's systems."

"Tell us everything that's hap-"

"We have another problem," Seven interrupted.

"What?"

"Me," the other ship interrupted via a crackling commline.

---

"E'Arte?"

"Not now, I'Nu," the Gherop leader growled, not looking up from the
console at which he and the installation's facilities manager were
poring.  "Can't you see we're trying to figure out why the main power
went out?"

I'Nu moved further into the room.  "There's another ship in orbit."

The older Gherop's head snapped up.  "What?"

"It only appeared briefly, but it matches the description of the
smaller ship that was accompanying Voyager.  Sunfire."

"But she was supposed to have been destroyed!"

"Obviously they were wrong."

"Show me."

I'Nu led him over to a display where the last few minutes of sensor
data was played back.  Sunfire was visible only for a split second,
but when he slowed the sensor recording down, it showed her quite
clearly.

"We don't know how she was able to appear and disappear like that, but
she was there."

"And she might know we have Voyager's crew and ship.  Contact C'Nar,"
he yelled to the communications officer.  "Tell him to redouble his
efforts.  I want control of that ship!"

"I cannot reach him, E'Arte," the young officer cowered a second
later.

"What?!"

He swept over and shoved the officer out of the way to do it himself.
When he too failed he growled and appeared ready to slam his fist into
something or someone. Expecting it would be the communications console
or officer, everyone stepped back.

"Bring me Ensign Kim," he growled.

"But the ruse," I'Nu objected.

"Should have worked by now if it was going to work at all!  Bring him
to me. I want him."

"Yes, E'Arte."

The clerk ran out of the room.

---

"Chakotay to Engineering."

"Engineering here," B'Elanna responded.

"We're sending your replicators patterns for two parts.  The instant
they're ready, I need an engineer to install them on Sunfire."

"I'll come myself."

"That is not necessary," the ship broke in, audio increasingly
static-filled.  "Seven of Nine is capable of-"

"We need her here on the sensors, looking for Paris, Harry and the
Captain," the Commander objected.

"I'll come myself," B'Elanna repeated.  In the back of her mind the
idea, she thought the ship's tone was rather cold and sharp through
the interference but she could not explain why.  Ignoring this
thought, she hurried over to the replicators.  "What are they for?"

"My cloaking device and communications.  Sunbird patched the cloak,
but it's no good.  It failed only a moment ago.  It may not survive
the next time."

"They're appearing now."  She grabbed them and her engineering kit.
"Joe, you're in charge.  I'm going to over to Sunfire."

---

Harry did his best not to die of shame.  As he sped up the stairs,
everywhere he saw proof he had been tricked.  The grey aliens - Gherop
he now knew to call them - along with P'Chi and other Rachar - some in
chains, some free or as free as slaves could be - were going here and
there in the eerie blue gloom. Once he believed his benefactor's
story, he could only wallow in self-pity. Someone had fed him a line
and he had swallowed it.  Eagerly.  For all his claims of having
matured over his five years on Voyager, he still was the green young
ensign Tom had saved from the machinations of a Ferengi on DS9.  How
was he going to face the Captain after having nearly handed over her
ship to the enemy?

Tiredly, he continued to force himself to move upwards.  The lift
system would have taken less time, but he would have been stuck in
close quarters with anyone.  Someone would have noticed he was neither
Rachar nor Gherop.  The stairs were easier since he had a legitimate
excuse for keeping his head down to watch his steps and with everyone
else would be rushing down or up them so no one would see him long
enough to notice.

---

Rounding a corner to descend to level nine, Tom bumped into a hooded
grey who had been climbing the stairs without looking where he was
going.  Automatically, the figure raised its head to check what it had
bumped into and Tom saw a flash of black hair and brown eyes.  In that
instant there was no sign of recognition from Harry towards Tom, but
there was the other way around. Using some light fingers, he slipped
an enhancer into the deep pocket he found on the inside of the cloak
then hurried passed him without a word.  The enhancer was so light
weight, the ensign would not know it was even there until after
Sunfire beamed him out.  Tom only hoped Harry could stay out of the
greys' clutches until then.

---

'Damn,' Harry swore to himself and sped up his progress up the stairs
as best he could in the crowd and still not draw attention.  'If that
Rachar gives the alarm, I'm done for.' His only hope now was to reach
the exit marked on his map before they started searching for him.
Providing they had not noticed his absence already.


---


"Commander, I have Ensign Kim's life sign," Seven almost shouted.

"Then beam him up."

"He's in the middle of a crowd."

"I don't care at this point.  They'll have noticed we're gone by now
anyway. Get him."

"Yes, Commander.  Beaming him straight to the Bridge."

The grey clothed figure who appeared on Voyager's Bridge was a
surprise, one which immediately was surrounded by people with phasers
drawn.  The weapons lowered as his hood did.

"Harry!" Chakotay smiled and the ensign thought the Commander might
hug him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he nodded, removing his disguise.

"Good, disguise.  How'd you manage to get it?  I tried knocking out
one of them.  I came to the conclusion the greys' heads are too hard
to-"

"They are Gherop," he said, avoiding the Commander's eyes.  "The greys
are Gherop."

"What?"

"It is a very long story."

"How did you get away?"

"Someone helped me escape.  I did not see the face, but I was given
these clothes and a map of the base showing me the quickest route out.
I was supposed to rendezvous with someone - probably Verta - hidden
out in the woods somewhere."

"Why...?"

"I don't know."

"We'll piece it all together later.  Right now I need you to take your
station and-"

"I can't."

"Why?"  He looked the younger man up and down.  "Are you hurt?
Doctor-"

"I'm not hurt," he insisted, waving away the EMH and finally meeting
the Commander's eyes.  "I was helping the Gherop to try to take
Voyager!"

The Bridge crew gasped and took a mental step back.

"We know," Seven said, still at Harry's station.  "However, Ensign,
knowing you as we do, we do not believe it was of your own volition,
was it?"

"They tricked me, or rather the P'Chi did on their behalf," he told
her. His head whipped around to Chakotay.  "The Rachar are slaves and
some of them, the P'Chi, are collaborators with the Gherop.  They
claimed to have "liberated" me from the Verta who were trying to use
me to get the Captain to put pressure on the government to free their
people.  They also claimed the Verta may have infected me with a
deadly illness.  Then they told me the Verta had taken Voyager and had
the crew captive and asked me to help them get control of the ship to
save all of you and them too, from the rebels using Voyager on them."
His eyes dropped as did his voice.  "But it was all a lie."

The Commander nodded.  "We've been lied to ever since we arrived here,
that much is for sure.  But that is no reason to remove yourself from
duty, Ensign," he disallowed, guessing Harry's reasoning for refusing
to assume his post was guilt over his actions.  "You were tricked.
What you did was not your fault."

"But-"

"Commander," Tuvok interrupted, "ships are launching from the
surface."

"Red alert!  Shields up.  Harry, get to Ops.  We'll argue this later."

"Commander, with the shields up we will not be able to beam the
Captain up once Tom is close enough to her with the enhancers," Neelix
reminded him.

"If those ships attack and we don't have the shields up, there won't
be any ship to beam her up to."

"I can beam through my shields," Sunfire informed them through a still
imperfect commline.  "I'll get them."

Stepping up to his station, Harry turned and blinked at the screen.
"Tom is down there somewhere?"

"Yes," Seven nodded, removing the enhancer out of his pocket and
showing it to him.  "Clearly you encountered him somewhere.  The
evidence is right here."

"I didn't...."  His mind flashed back to the blue Rachar with whom he
had collided.  "That was Tom?"

"Can we discuss this later?" Chakotay demanded.  "Here come the
ships."

---

Mindless of the battle now beginning so far above them, Tom was almost
down to the Captain's level. As he descended, he continued to place
enhancers, hoping they would be powerful enough to permit Sunfire to
beam him and Janeway out instead of him having to risk taking her up a
few levels to a point where he knew she could reach them. Wanting to
verify that idea, he tried again to contact her.  She still did not
answer his hails.  Something was terribly wrong.  He could feel it.

Without guidance from his colleague, he had to rely on the tiny
tricorder on his wrist to help him pinpoint the Captain's location
down a near empty corridor.  It was not difficult for him to find her
cell. The two guards standing to either side of the doorway were a
dead give-away. In the time it took for their brains to register his
presence, two blasts from his phaser pistol had both of them in heaps
on the stone floor.  Checking their vitals, he found they still lived
and he searched them for the key to the cell.

---

Head still ringing from E'Arte's rough treatment of her during their
"chat", Kathryn was not certain she actually had heard a commotion
outside her cell.  Regardless, she picked herself up off of the mat
that was her bed - well, hers and the local wildlife's.  Considering
they kept her in total darkness anyway, the sudden switch to emergency
power had gone unnoticed by her.  The door slowly creaking open again
did not. Fervently, she wished she had a weapon she could bring
crashing down over the head of the person entering, but her bruised
ribs reminded her trying to fight her captors was a lost cause that
only would get her hurt more.  So instead she stood there, waiting for
their return for more questioning.

She was totally unprepared for what happened next.

The figure illuminated by the blue lights rushed over to her and spoke
in a voice she knew.  "Captain? You all right?"

"Tom?"  She squinted, trying to make out his familiar features.  All
she could see was the vague outline of his body and uncustomary shaggy
hair.

"Yes.  The tricorder says you're hurt, but not badly."  Passing her
the extra combadge with one hand, he caught her free hand with his
other and drew her with him towards the corridor.  "Help me get these
two inside."

Together they dragged the guards inside the cell.  After both were
inside, he used Harry's trick to disguise the Captain.

"Put these on," he ordered, thrusting the clothes of the smaller of
the two greys at her.  "They'll still be way to big, but they'll have
to do."

As he locked the sleepers in the cell, she hurriedly dressed and he
stuck the key in his bag.

"Without a key, it'll take them a while to get them out and know for
sure you're gone.  That should give us a head start.  Let's go before
these two wake up and raise the alarm."

Finishing rolling up the last pant leg, she sprinted after him.

---

I'Nu rushed into the "quarantine" rooms and was confronted with Nru
and Ksu lying on the floor. Moving closer he could see the shimmering
pools of blood collecting on the floor under their bodies.  He was
down on one knee, checking for signs of life when the door across the
room opened and the big Rachar known as Plwa quietly entered, showily
rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"What happened?" I'Nu demanded.

Wide-eyed, the Rachar shrugged and shook his head.

"Check on Harry Kim."

Plwa walked through the room and into Harry's bedroom.  A minute later
he returned with an even greater look of surprise on his face.

A sinking feeling forming in the pit of his three stomachs, the Gherop
pushed passed him and strode into the next room.  "Go alert-" Turning,
I'Nu found he was alone.  "He must have gone for a medic."

He whipped out his communicator then stopped.  'I have to tell him
immediately.  Too bad there's not someone else who could give E'Arte
the bad news,' he thought.  'He really is not going to like it.  Of
course by the time I trudge all the way back up there to see him, he
will have calmed down considerably. Maybe.'

---

"Sunfire, come in."

"What is it?" Janeway whispered from behind Tom as they continued up
the stairs.

"I can't raise Sunfire," he murmured back.  "I haven't been able to
for a while but I figured it was the minerals in the rock and the
depth that was blocking the transmission.  Now, I'm not sure.  My
tricorder says were at the sixth level.  Even without contacting her
to tell her to beam us up, she should have done it the moment everyone
was within transporter range."

"Everyone?"

"The plan was for me to set the enhancers to boost the signal lock on
the crew, find you and Harry then all of us would beam out at the same
time.  Less risk of becoming trapped once the alarm was-"

At that moment a loud din began issuing from speakers in the ceiling
above them and the regular lighting snapped on.

"Obviously they know Harry's on the loose.  Sunfire, come in."

Still nothing."

By now they had reached the fifth level and he led her down the
corridor, not further up the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"Up the same way I came in.  I'm going to get you started for the
surface then go back for the crew."

The moment the coast was clear, he slipped into the shaft ahead of her
then held open the grate for her to join him.  He was replacing the
metalwork when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway
towards them.  They remained huddled there, silently, until the greys
passed and it was safe for them to move.

"Here," he said softly and handed her the wrist lamp from his pack.
"I'll go first.  There's a maze of dead ends ahead that I'll have to
lead you through it then you'll be on your own to the surface.  Don't
touch the walls.  This thing's unstable."

They climbed in total silence for a long time then he came to a halt
when the tunnel ceased branching off in all directions.

"This is where we part," he said.  "Keep going ahead and you can't
miss the surface.  The exit's mostly blocked but there's a breech to
the left si-"

There was an ominous creaking above them.  Recognizing it for what it
was, he wrapped his arm around her and more or less dragged her along
with him towards the surface seconds before the ceiling partially
collapsed where they had been standing.  Keeping them moving, he swore
under his breath.

"I guess you're not going back after the crew," she whispered, mindful
it might have been the vibrations from their talking that had brought
the ceiling down.

"Not that way anyway.  Let's get to the surface and see if we can
contact Sunfire from there."  Releasing her, he gave her a nudge to
precede him through a narrow opening.

It was a while before Tom began talking at normal levels again.
Normally, he would not have risked it, but he needed to encourage the
tiring Janeway.  To get her mind off of their situation, he told her
of the first time he could remember going mountain climbing.  As
expected she laughed at his having become so tangled up in the line
his climbing partner had to haul him up to the plateau and spend the
next hour untying the muddle, all the while laughing his head off at
"little Tommy's" predicament.

"With that he more or less torpedoed any chances he had with Moira."

"He was a boyfriend of your sister's then?" Kathryn panted.

"And the younger brother of my sister Kathleen's boyfriend.  The four
of them had thought how cute it would be to have him and Moira matched
up.  Two sisters dating two brothers.  There was even a younger sister
for me when the time came.  But when we made it home and Kathleen's
boyfriend heard his brother's story and laughed at me that was the end
of the four of them.  It was okay for my sisters to laugh at me, they
were family, but 'may the Gods protect any non-family who dared make
fun of our little brother!'"

The last bit was delivered in a high soprano, clearly meant to be
impersonating one or both of his sisters. Janeway began to laugh.
Unfortunately it was the wrong time for her to be doing that.  She was
attempting to squeeze through a hole in the debris clogging the shaft.
Tom heard the tell-tale sounds of cracking and the dust beginning to
drift down from the ceiling.  Instantly he gave her a good shove
through the hole and she flew clear just as more of the ceiling caved
in precisely where she had been.

"T-" A coughing fit overtook Kathryn before she could finish calling
his name as the dust began to settle.  "Tom?" she croaked when the fit
was over.

"Are you okay?" came the muffled question.

She tested all her limbs.  None appeared broken.  There was a bump
forming on her forehead and from the stinging she could tell there was
some major scrapes and scratches on all of her exposed skin.  "Yes.
You?"  She swung the wrist lamp around in the direction of his voice.
"Where are- Oh, no."  The opening through the rubble was gone.  "The
hole's filled in." She began swinging the light around again.  "We'll
have to find something to use to brace the hole open again while you-"

"Never mind me.  Get to the surface."

His voice was growing softer.  She moved as close to the "wall" as she
dared, straining to hear him.  Finally she ended up prone in the dirt
so she could listen through a small gap at ground level.

"There's a forest you can hide in until Sunfire or Voyager find you.
You'll be-" He had a coughing fit of his own.  "You'll be in the open
for a while, but it is night's fallen so it will give you an
advantage."

"How will you get out?"

Another coughing fit was his only response.

Shifting sideways a little, she shone the wrist lamp through the hole.
Right on the other side was a hand, blue and covered with a coating of
dirt, rock fragments, and something suspiciously dark and wet. "You're
hurt!"

"Don't worry about me.  Get yourself out."

Instead of listening, she shoved up a huge sleeve and slowly slipped a
hand through the hole to touch his pinkie with the tips of her longest
two fingers.  She could reach no further.

Tom started at the unexpected contact then his finger shakily pressed
against hers.

"If the rocks shift, your hand will be trapped."

"How bad are you hurt?"

"Been worse," he dismissed.

"You're lying.  We need to get you-"

"*You* need to get *you* to the surface and back to Voyager.  They
need you."

"I can't leave you."

"Yes, you can.  I'll still be here after G.I. Janeway's... finished
kicking some alien posterior."

Again there was a fit of coughing and its sound scared her.  Her
coughing from the dust had been a dry one.  This was a classic example
of a wet, fluid-building-up-in-the-lungs cough.  Suddenly, the
coughing trailed off and the finger touching hers slackened.

"Tom?  Tom?!"

After a minute of calling to him, pleading with him to say something,
to let her know he was alive, she withdrew her hand.  There was
nothing left for her to do but do as he had instructed - go kick some
butt and come back for him as soon as she could.  Shucking off the
grey's garments, she ran for the surface.

---

"That should do it.  I still don't understand why they failed, but
that's the cloaking device, comm system, and now sensors in working
order," B'Elanna announced.  "Now to go back to Voyager and try to put
her back together."  She gave the Engineering room an appreciative
look.  "This is amazing.  I've never even dreamed about anything like
this.  When this is over, I'd love to-"

"You need to return to Voyager," Sunfire said sharply, cutting off
B'Elanna's voicing of her dream to investigate the new-to-her
technology that was Sunfire.

B'Elanna felt her hackles rising.  The entire time she had been here,
the ship had been terse with her.  At the ship's design, the only
communication between them had been that which was strictly necessary.
There had not been any answers to her questions as to where Tom was
other than "on the planet" and nothing else said except instructions
on how to replace vaguely familiar parts in totally unfamiliar systems
and brief updates on the battle with the enemy ships.  Every time
B'Elanna had tried to be friendly the ship rebuffed her.

Angrily snapping her kit closed, B'Elanna opened her mouth to demand
an explanation of the ship's hostility only a scream came out inside
and she fell to her knees, clutching her chest.

Instantly, Sunfire beamed her to Voyager's Sickbay.

Minutes later, the patient passed out without the EMH ever finding
anything wrong with her.

---

Dtu and Jmi had felt the ground tremble and seen the clouds of dust
issue forth from further down the tunnel.  At once they had stopped to
huddle in a natural crevice in the wall, their lantern going out as
they did.

"We should turn back," Jmi whispered through the scrap of cloth he
hastily brought up to over his mouth and nose against the dust.

"No," Dtu insisted through her own makeshift mask.  "We have to find
out where this leads.  If it goes where I think it might, we might be
able to get inside the Gherop base. Now, quiet.  I'm trying to
listen."

But they were too far down the shaft from the one in the Gherop
clothes to hear what she was saying or to whom and there was no where
to hide if they were to leave the crevice to go closer to eavesdrop.
Abruptly, the female gave a cry, calling out a word over and over,
something they did not understand, and receiving no response that they
could hear anyway.

Then she was up off of the ground, shucking off the Gherop garb she
wore, exposing an outfit of red and black beneath.  She ran passed
them and up the tunnel without ever noticing them.

"We should follow her," Jmi said.

"No, Lta or Pmka will follow her.  We must check to see who she was
talking to."

"But-"

Ignoring him, Dtu was switching on her lantern once more and running
down the tunnel.  Jmi had no choice but to follow his foolhardy
friend.

---

Dismissing the despised B'Elanna's condition from her concern, Sunfire
focused her attention back onto the planet and detected a Terran life
sign exiting the tunnel. Automatically, she beamed it up and the
Captain appeared on her Bridge, minus the few hitchhikers she had
picked up in her cell on the planet.

"Where...?"

"Sunfire," the ship answered.  "Where's Sunbird?"

"He didn't make it."

Both females fell into a shocked silence, only to be roused from it by
another hit from a Gherop vessel a second later.

Janeway automatically jerked into Command mode.  "What's our
situation?"

Sunfire outlined the battle and the damage both ships had been
subjected to. Lastly, she imparted Harry's little piece of news - the
true identity of the "greys."

"Clearly they were holding back in our previous encounters," Janeway
grimaced.

"Much more damage and I don't think we'll win."

Which leaves only one logical course of action - the needs of the many
had to outweigh the needs of the one.  They had to leave Tom's body
behind so they could save themselves.

"Patch me through to Voyager."

---

"Engineering, report," Chakotay called.

"Things don't look good, Commander."

"Carey?  Where's Torres?"

"Still on Sunfire, sir," he reported, not knowing she actually was in
their Sickbay, puzzling the hell out of the EMH.  Any chance of us
getting out of here?  Much more and we'll lose the shields."

"Paris still hasn't got the Captain out.  Do what you can to hold the
ship together.  Bridge out."

"We may have to leave before they return, Commander," Tuvok informed
him. "Sensors are picking up a much bigger Gherop fleet on its way
here."

"How big?"

"One ship twice the size of Voyager and a dozen smaller ships half the
size of Voyager.  The first of the smaller ones will arrive here
within an hour.  The rest and the larger ship are over a day's travel
away yet."

"Great."

"Commander," Harry called out, "incoming transmission from Sunfire."

"Go ahead."

Kathryn Janeway appeared on the main viewer surrounded by Sunfire's
Bridge. While in reality she was battered and dirty with damp streaks
down her face telling she had been crying, she looked like a goddess
to the Bridge crew, especially her First Officer.

"Kathryn!" Chakotay exclaimed.  "Are you-"

"Tom's dead," she overrode in a monotone.  "Have Voyager retreat to
the co-ordinates Sunfire is sending you.  Warp 9."

"Yes, Captain," he nodded and the screen returned to the view of the
approaching vessels.  "Baytart?"

"Aye, Commander," the pilot said in a small voice.  "Warp 9."

The two ships leapt to warp leaving their colleague behind.

---

"Dtu, Jmi?  What is this the others tell us?"

Dtu excitedly picked herself up off of the dirt floor and hugged her
father. "A pale coloured female alien in red and black in came out of
here and there's a Rachar on the other side of this."  He gestured to
the debris.  "If you look through there you can see a hand.  I think
he or she is dead though.  We can't get any answer to our calls."

Her father's mind was still on the alien.  "Pale as in skin?"

"Yes."

"And red and black clothing?"

"Yes."

"One of the ones from Voyager, Kni?" another of the two adults
suggested.

"Perhaps, Mksa," Dtu's father nodded, lowering himself to the ground.
"When did she come out?"

"Only moments ago.  You should have run into her."

"Lta and Pmka said they saw someone of that description running from
the opening but they lost sight of her somehow."

"This transporter technology we have heard about?" Mksa wondered. "She
could have vanished, not ducked behind a tree or something?"

"Possibly."  Kni shone his own lantern through the gap and saw what
Janeway and his son had seen.  He also saw a slight twinge of a
finger.  "It's male, I think, and still alive."  He got to his feet.
"We'll need braces.  I want to try to clear as much of this as we can
to get him out without bringing the ceiling in on us."

"What if it is a trap?  What if the children are right and he is a
traitor?"

"It is a chance we'll have to take, Mksa.  Kle," he called to one of
the other adults, "go back to the village.  See if any of our contacts
have any information.  If one of the Voyager aliens has escaped, they
will get word out to us.  And take the children with you."

"Ah, but-" Dtu began to complain.

"It is for your own safety.  Now, go."

Though they did not want to they went.

---

A desktop computer was flung at the wall in rage.  Voyager and
undoubtedly Sunfire were gone. Immediately, he had contacted the fleet
in their hiding place far removed from Rachar and transmitted
Voyager's heading, but they were too far away to stop them before they
travelled out of range.  All the fleet could do was follow their
projected course and scour the area for them.  It was a long shot
given the lead Voyager had on them.

The irate Gherop grabbed a chair, sending it after the computer.   But
even if they could capture Voyager, all of his plans were ruined.  The
ship would not be easy to take without incurring heavy damage and that
still would leave the problem the had experienced before with the
systems locking them out.

A tray of datacrystals went to see where the computer and chair had
gone. This was supposed to be a glorious culmination of all his hard
work.  Instead, it was a humiliating debacle.  Easily, this was the
worst day of his life since he had inadvertently slighted a favoured
second cousin of T'Do and been assigned to this backwater as
retribution.  There was no way it could become worse.

"Ship approaching," a young officer tremulously announced.  "It is the
T'Do T'Nar.  They're requesting contact with you, E'Arte."

E'Arte froze.  The T'Do T'Nar was the leadship of T'Do's escort fleet.
The escort fleet always remained with his personal ship, the T'Do
R'Tu, on the Homeworld unless T'Do had decided to make one of his rare
forays into the Universe outside of the Homeworld's rarefied
atmosphere.  If the escort fleet was coming, it meant he was coming.

He had been wrong.  The day could get worse.

---

"Lay him down here."

The four Rachar did as instructed by the elderly female.  The injured
male they had dug out of the rubble did not make a sound as they
transferred him from the makeshift stretcher to the blanket covered,
long table that usually served as the house's kitchen table.

"Are you sure this is wise, Sme?" Kni whispered to the old female.
"Bringing him here to your house. What if he is a P'Chi in disguise?"

Wringing out the cloth she had plunged into the bowl of warm water,
Sme shrugged.  "If he dies, we will never know one way or the other.
At least with him here I can be on the scene if he needs further
medical atten-" She broke off and stared along with the others at the
water that was becoming increasingly red with each rinsing of the
cloth she was using to bathe the patient. "You," she said, pointing to
Mksa where he stood, gaping with the other two Verta.  "Behind you is
a stack of clean cloths and another bowl of water.  Bring them here."

Mksa did as ordered and handed them over.  The dirty cloth was set
aside and the bowl of red water was handed to Kni for tossing out of
the door and the bowl to be rinsed out.

Another swipe at the liquid dribbling from the patient's head wound
and the white cloth in Sme's hand came away red again.

Returning from dumping out the dirty water and leaving the bowl in the
wash basin, Kni frowned at the cloth along with everyone else.  "What
is he?  He's not Rachar or Gherop."

"I don't know," the physician sighed, shaking her head as her eyes ran
over the patient.  "But he is injured and needs our help.  Remove his
clothing.  I need to check all of him for injuries."

Finding the device they could not recognize strapped to his wrist and
the knife they could stuffed in its sheath in his boot was not as
startling as what they found when they removed the last of his
clothing.  They all stared, stunned, at the body before them.  None of
them had ever seen a Rachar, or Gherop for that matter, with the
"extra bits" as one of the younger Rachar among them muttered to his
nearest neighbour.

Even the old female who had seen all manner of things in her long life
could not help but keep sneaking glances at the oddity as she washed
her patient and assessed his injuries. "He - providing he is male -
appears to have internal injuries and a bad head wound.  The latter's
probably from that rock that was lying next to his head.  I'm sure it
had on it some of this... blood for lack of a better descriptor."

"When will he awake so we can question him?"

"I don't know.  Could be any time now.  Could be never.  You remember
what it was like after the Kla Kwi cave-in."

Kni nodded.  Some of the few who had survived Kla Kwi had had head
injuries too.  Two of them still had not woken up and that was over
three seasons ago.  But their families still lived in hope that one
day they would return to them.  "So we wait."

"Yes.  I'm going to treat his injuries as best I can, but I can tell
you right now, his internal layout is as strange as his exterior.
Things aren't where they should be.  I cannot risk opening him up to
fix him, only to kill him in the process."

"Understood.  I'll leave two of my people here to help you with him.
If he awakes, you know how to contact me."

With a nod and a last look at the "extra bits" that they knew no one
would believe them if they described them to anyone, all but two of
the Verta left for the long walk home.  None of them wanted to run the
risk of being caught out and about when the dawn came in only a short
while.  It would be impossible to explain why they were breaking
curfew and why they were so dirty.

---

"This is the T'Do T'Nar," the audio transmission declared.

Seated behind D'Ere's commandeered desk, E'Arte was glad it was audio
only. He was sweating profusely at the thought of T'Do's impending
arrival.  "Welcome to Rachar, T'Do T'Nar.  This is E'Arte."

The voice did not reciprocate E'Arte's friendliness.  "T'Do will
arrive in one interval.  We shall land and begin preparations for his
arrival.  T'Do T'Nar out."

Grinding his teeth, E'Arte swept out of the room.  "I'Nu?!" "The
transport's ready," the clerk responded, jogging to keep up with his
superior's angry pace.  "Our fleet has been contacted and is in
pursuit of Voyager.  The Palace is being readied.  Your things have
been moved out of the Royal suite and into the quarters you specified.
The treasures have been crated and hidden.  All the Gherop and P'Chi
have been given their instructions regarding the story they are to
tell about Voyager if asked."

"And the records of this?"

They entered the transport and it shot off into the sky for the short
flight to the Palace practically before their posteriors had hit the
seats.

"Sanitized and replaced with the same story."

"Good," he approved.  "I don't know why he's coming here, but I don't
want him finding out about this... set back."

"Understood."

The transport landed with a gentle thump and they stepped out into the
flurry of activity that had consumed the Palace and much of the
Capital the moment the sensors had detected the fleet on its way.

"The T'Do T'Nar is landing," a minor clerk told I'Nu then rushed off
about his duties.

"Let's go greet them then," E'Arte said with false cheer.

---

Zji closely watched the antics of E'Arte and the other Gherop
stationed on Rachar from a discrete distance behind her master.  One
of E'Arte's orders, passed along through I'Nu, had been for her to
make herself presentable and to help the other slaves scour the Royal
suite of all traces of him.  She had ground her teeth as she had
helped lug box after box of his things to his new and much smaller
apartments in another wing.  It was bad enough when he had been
sleeping in rooms originally occupied by more deserving souls than he,
but the idea of the monster's master possibly staying there, it made
her blood boil. When they retook control of their world, the first
thing they should do is burn that bed, royal treasure or not.  No
Rachar - royal or otherwise - ever would want to sleep in it.

Despite her anger, she kept her face neutral and her ears open. T'Do's
reputation had preceded him. True, he was pampered, but he was not the
least bit soft and cared nothing for anything other than what he
desired.  All of Rachar knew he wanted to pick Rachar clean of all it
had and the Verta were hindering that. If he was here to remove that
stumbling block, they needed to know before he acted.

---

"This will have to be cleaned," T'Do's head servant was saying to his
assistant who was making notes as they inspected the Suite.  "Those
windows will have to be opened and of course bring some of that spice
he's become fond of burning."  She gave a delicate sniff.  "A lot of
it." She turned to E'Arte with an accusing look.  "What have you been
keeping in here?  Farm animals?"

E'Arte bit back his indignation.  "It has been unoccupied for some
time," he lied.  "We were not expecting T'Do to leave the Homeworld to
come for a visit."

"This is hardly a tour of the Empire.  He is coming to deal with your
problems here personally."  She looked around the rooms disparagingly.
"Though I must say, I still do not think he will wish to remain
planetside for long.  The T'Do R'Tu may not be as comfortable as his
Palaces on the Homeworld, but it still is much better than this."  She
turned back to her assistant.  "Once this is cleaned to standards,
bring in the usual touches of home."

With one last glare at her surroundings, she swept out of the room and
down the hall, firing orders and condemnations all the way.

---

Once the Senior Staff or their seconds in two cases were assembled in
the Conference Room, Janeway started the meeting.  "Seven, you said
you had figured out why Sunfire's systems keep having problems?"

"Yes," the head of Astrometrics nodded.  "The refined yatelite waiting
in the containers to be grown into crystals is the problem.  In the
ore's raw state it is harmless, but with this grade of the ore, once
refined it causes reactions in any pre-existing yatelite crystals."

"And she has yatelite crystals already in her matrix."

"Yes.  The reaction of two between the crystals and the refined
material is manifesting in the systems failures.  She is repaired now,
but if the ore remains on board her for much longer she will
experience failures again."

"What if we brought the refined ore to Voyager?  Will that be far
enough away from her?"

"Yes.  We should bring all of the ore, refined or not, plus the
refining equipment to Voyager. Once the all of the ore is refined,
only then should the crystals start to be grown.  There should be no
problems if all of the ore is set to crystalize at the same time."

"So we have to get this right the first time or start looking for more
ore or pre-grown crystals."

"Precisely."

"Do it then."

Inclining her head, Seven left the Conference Room.

The Captain turned to B'Elanna's second-in-command seated next to
Baytart. Her face betrayed none of the emotions she was feeling at
seeing her temporary Chief Engineer and new head of the Conn Division
sitting there instead of the two she wished to see there.

"Mr. Carey?"

"Projected time for completion of repairs is twenty-one hours, barring
unforeseen problems," he responded.  "As for concerns that this nebula
effecting the shields, we've looked into it and there should be no
problems for the time being.  The shields are at eighty-three percent
now and should be back to full strength in two hours.  However, the
longer we stay in here, the greater the chance they will be effected."

"Hopefully we won't have to stay here any longer than it takes to
complete repairs.  Then we'll be able to defend ourselves against any
more Gherop attacks.  Tuvok, any success in devising a defence against
these torpedoes of theirs?"

"I believe Commander Chakotay and I have formulated a plan which will
be successful if we are confronted by them again and they use the full
strength of their weapons. However, I do not think it likely they will
risk damaging Voyager.  It is doubtful they have changed their minds
about wishing to possess Voyager.  It might be just the opposite. They
may have become more determined than ever to have her."

"Another good reason for staying hidden here as long as we can.
Neelix, how's the crew after their incarceration?"

"Understandably, all are relieved to be back home, Captain," the
cook/morale officer reported.  "Some have admitted to having had
nightmares last night and either I spoke with them about them or the
Commander did.  Most have shrugged off the experience and are back to
normal."  His eyes fell to the table.  "And many are having trouble
accepting Tom's death."

The Captain blinked rapidly and fought the emotions down.  "Yes, well,
that is to be expected," she said in her best Captain's voice.  "How
is Naomi doing?"

"Her mother and I haven't told her yet.  She was one of the ones who
had nightmares last night.  We thought it best we help her get over
that first before we tell her about him."

She nodded.  "Doctor, any improvement in B'Elanna?"

The EMH shook his head.  "It's been almost a day and she's still
asleep.  I cannot rouse her nor can I find an explanation for her to
be unconscious."

"Is it because...."  She could not finish the question without
breaking down and thankfully the hologram picked up on this and
understood what she was asking.

"Because he's dead?  I don't know.  The research on Shared Pain is
incomplete."

Frowning, Chakotay looked from one to the other.  "Is that what's been
going on with B'Elanna?  I've heard of that, but I thought it was rare
and an unproven phenomena.  But you think these weird aches and pains
she's been feeling is because of some link between the two of them?"

"There is evidence to suggest it is possible, yes.  I believe it is a
residual effect from the incident with Raven and Mr. Paris' rebonding
with Lieutenant Torres."

"So she's unconscious because he's dead?"

"It is possible his death was such a shock to her systems that her
brain more or less decided to shut down until it's ready to process it
all.  She's in perfect health except for the fact she's asleep and
can't be woken through conventional means.  It is my hope that she'll
remain so until she's ready to wake up."

"You can't force her to wake up?"

"It's always better to let the patient try to wake naturally.  If this
persists, then I'll consider waking her artificially."

The meeting went on in even more sober tones until Janeway came to the
last item on the agenda. Scheduling Tom Paris' memorial service.
Unable to say it, she handed her First Officer the pad and turned away
towards the windows.

Behind her his calm baritone introduced the subject and Tuvok,
Baytart, and Carey chimed in with suggestions of waiting until the
repairs to the ship were completed, holding the service in Sandrines',
and suggesting it be "a good old-fashioned Irish wake, not a service"
respectively.  Neelix quietly said he would prepare the food  - all of
Tom's favourites - for it and the Doctor and Chakotay began
questioning Carey about what was involved with a wake.  Harry said
nothing nor did she.  Both were too wrapped up in their grief to say
anything.

With no other business to discuss, Chakotay dismissed the others and
they filed solemnly out of the room.  The moment the doors closed, he
knelt in front of Kathryn's chair and laid his hands over hers, not
speaking.

"How am I going to tell B'Elanna and Harry?" she whispered.

"Tell them what?"

She swallowed hard.  "How am I going to tell them I'm the reason he's
dead?"

"The cave-in's the reason he's dead, not you, Kathryn."

"But I caused it," she said, hot tears beginning to run down her face.
"I caused the cave-in that... killed him."

"Shh," he soothed.  "It was an old tunnel in ill repair and-"

"No!  You don't understand.  I.  Caused.  It."

He frowned.  "I don't under-"

"I was tired and he knew it so he was telling me a story to keep me
awake and moving.  I was squeezing through this small opening when I
started laughing at his story and it started the cave-in.  He told me
not to touch the walls, that they were unstable."

"Kathryn, you were trying to squeeze through a small opening.  By
definition that means not touching the walls is impossible."

"But it was my laughing that caused the cave-in," she repeated.

There was nothing he could say to this.  If she were laughing and
brushing up against the walls, it might have had some effect on the
delicate balance that was keeping the roof aloft.  It was a case of
simple physics.  He knew it and so did she.  With nothing he could
say, all he could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she
cried.

---

"Where...?"

Tom looked about him.  He knew this place.  It was the place he had
visited all those months ago when he had had his ill-advised encounter
with Chakotay's akoonah.  Before him was the meadow with its huge dead
tree and there, in the far distance across the meadow, he could see
the leafy green woods that he had been too exhausted to visit after
the horror in the dark forest.

The forest.

Warily, he turned around and his knees nearly gave out.  He was
standing on the verge between the meadow and the dense forest.  Three
short steps and he would be inside it. Tom stumbled backwards, away
from the forest as it seemed to reach out its branches towards him. He
had to get as far away from it as possible or he would be pulled back
into it.

The meadow grasses appeared to have different ideas.  They entangled
his feet, holding him in place for the quickly approaching branches.
Vainly, he struggled against them.  Their hold would not break.  He
was trapped.

'How does it feel to know there is no escape?' Camet hissed in his ear
from behind him.

The Greek chorus that was Tom's other victims joined in with an echo
of the question.

'How does it feel to be trapped like we were?  To know there will be
no one coming to your rescue to save you?  They've all left you to
die, you know.'

"No," Tom insisted.  "Sunfire's in orbit of the planet.  She'll beam
the Captain and me out to safety."

'But she wasn't answering your hails, was she?  Why would that be
then? Possibly because she's been destroyed perhaps?  How else could
you explain her not answering you?'

"No, she was cloaked.  She'd have to be seen in order to be
destroyed."

'Remember that cloak *someone* said they were going to fix properly
when there was time?  How long was it going to last?  A few hours?  A
day?  How long has your body been trapped in that cave-in?  That long?
Longer?  Face facts, she's long gone and you've been left there to
die.'

Suddenly, his terrorizers retreated as a little boy appeared out of
nowhere between Tom and the grasping branches.  The child just stared
at him and Tom had the strange feeling he should know who he was yet
he could not place him.  Their eyes held for a long time.  Tom's mind
hazily registered the branches pausing and the grasses halting their
tightening around his legs.

Defying the law of gravity, the boy floated up to eye level with the
man and touched his cheek.  A feeling such as Tom never had
experienced filled him.  He could not name the feeling.  'Curiosity'
was inadequate, as were 'confusion' and 'worry' and 'awe.'

"Who are you?" Tom whispered, as the grasses released him and branches
retreated.

The child did not answer.  A small hand continued to explore the man's
features.

"Do you know why the forest is back?  It had disappeared the last time
I was-"

The fingers of one hand inserted itself into Tom's open mouth to
investigate Tom's teeth and tongue.

Tom gently tugged the hand away.  "Can you speak?"

A frown of consternation crossed the pudgy face as its eyes glared at
the hand holding his away from what he wanted to explore.

"Hey, you listening?"

The boy frowned at Tom now.

"How did you get here?  I thought only animals were here.  What are
you doing...?"  Tom shook his head to clear it of the fuzziness that
was overtaking it.  "What's happening?  What's...?"

The little boy, the forest, the meadow, all of it was eclipsed by a
bright flash of light.  Tom tried to squeeze his eyes shut against the
brightness only it was not enough to banish it.  Slowly, he opened his
lids a sliver, determined that if he could not block the light out, he
would have to get used to it.

What he did not think he could get used to was the terrible ache he
felt all over.  Even with everything the Universe had thrown at him,
he was hard pressed to remember the last time he had felt like this.

"You're awake," an aged female voice said from his left.  "Good.  Lie
still. You were badly injured.  I have done what little I could to
heal you, but you still need rest."

The nearly dry cloth across his brow was removed and replace by
another, much damper one.

"There was a fever and an infection.  We knew it was risky, but we
gave you some herbs to reduce the fever and kill the infection.  At
least that is was it does in our people. What it does in yours, we're
not sure."

Painfully, he turned his head towards the voice, bleary eyes narrowed.

"Yes, we know you are not Rachar," the green Rachar nodded, "though
whether you are an actual alien or a Gherop experiment, we are not
certain.  It does not take a former physician like myself to know no
Rachar - or Gherop for that matter - has red blood or... the extra
parts to their anatomy that you do."  She leaned closer.  "So what are
you?  An alien from that ship Voyager?  From some other planet?  Or
are you some creation of the Gherop?  Have they've been experimenting
on our people? For what purpose?  Are they planning to create an army
who looks like Rachar?  Are you a spy?"

So many questions, so little strength within him to answer them all.
Feeling the darkness crowding him again, he whispered one word to
answer all of the questions at once. "Voyager," Tom said then fell
asleep once more.

---

"Doctor, look!"

At Samantha Wildman's cry, he whirled around to see B'Elanna sitting
up on her biobed, groggily looking about her.

"Well, good morning, Lieutenant," he greeted with a big smile as he
and Sam walked over to her.  "How do you feel?"

"Tired," she mumbled.  "Achy.  Weak."

As she began to sway, they helped her back to a reclining position.

"You've been unconscious for over twelve hours.  You need to take
things slowly."

B'Elanna's eyelids fell and she returned to sleep.

Sam shook her head and moved away with him following along behind to
continued their previous conversation.  "It's sad," she said before he
could speak.  "How are we going to tell her he's dead and we don't
even have his body.  And then when she finds out this Shared Pain
theory, she's going to be even worse because she actually may have
felt it when he died."

"It will be hard on her," he agreed, "hard on everyone, but he's
gone."

She looked carefully at his face and thought she detected tears in the
eyes. 'No,' she dismissed.  'He's a hologram.  They wouldn't have
added in a crying subroutine, would they?' She glanced back at the
patient. "You know I would have thought it would have been more... I
don't know... traumatic."

"What do you mean?"

"The impact on her with him dying.  Look at what happened when his
legs were broken.  Look at how she described it."  She brought up the
entry in which he had recorded the incident.  "The words the Captain
said she used were exactly the same words just now.  I would have
thought the pain would be more severe."

He frowned at the screen then back at the patient.  By the time his
eyes made their way back to his assistant they were wide and he did
something she never had heard him do before - he swore.  Not just any
profanity, but profanity worthy of a denizen of the seediest bars in
the Alpha Quadrant.

"Doctor to Janeway.  Report to Sickbay immediately!"

Running into his office, he began furiously tapping out commands on
his computer.  He was still at it when the Captain ran into Sickbay
minutes later with Harry and Neelix at her heels.  The three stopped
at the sight of the woman quietly sleeping on the biobed.  Clearly
from the Doctor's commanding her to appear, they had assumed the worst
had happened and B'Elanna had died.  They were taken aback to find she
was not.

Tuvok, walking in just then with a gash in his hand, observed the
scene with curiosity.  "Captain, is there a problem?"

"Yes, there is," the Doctor answered for her, rushing out into the
main room where they all stood. "Ensign Wildman, see to his hand."

Already having been preparing to do so, Sam nodded and ushered the
Vulcan over to a nearby biobed to begin treatment.

"There was one remote possibility I never considered," the EMH told
the Captain with barely concealed anger.  Whether it was at himself
for missing this "remote possibility" or at the woman to whom he
spoke, no one in the room was too sure.

"What was it?" she asked

"Are you sure he was dead?"

"What?"

"Are you sure he was dead, not just unconscious?"

The Captain's mouth opened and closed reflexively.  This was a
question she had been avoiding asking herself since she had left Tom
behind.  She could not face the possibility he was still alive and
buried beneath all that rock without a hope of rescue.  "I couldn't
reach his pulse," she confessed, fighting back tears, "but I couldn't
hear any breathing and with all the fluid that it had sounded like was
building up in his lungs..." Her eyes pled with the hologram's.  "He
couldn't have survived, could he?"

"I don't know," the Doctor told her.  "With Mr. Paris I try not to
discount any possibilities."

"Then we have to go back," Harry said firmly.  This was the longest
sentence he had spoken to anyone since he had returned to Voyager and
been ordered to take his station despite his arguing he did not
deserve to.  All he had been able to think of was his complicity in
the Gherop plan and how Tom had died before Harry had had the chance
to apologize to him.  The fact his last memory of his best friend was
not to be of the smiling face of the pilot, but of a barely glimpsed
alien visage that he had not recognized as his friend only made him
feel worse.  "If there's even a chance he's still alive, we have to go
back."

"The Gherop ships will be at the planet by now, Ensign," Tuvok
reminded him. "Voyager could not withstand another attack."

"I could do it," Sunfire interrupted over the comm.  As always, she
had been listening in to the goings on on Voyager.  "My cloak can hide
me, but I'll need someone to actually get him.  My sensors couldn't
detect him in the tunnel, but they were still coming back on line when
I found the Captain and she told me he was dead and we all had to
leave.  If I get back to Rachar and do find life signs, someone will
have to be with me to get him out.  I can't risk transporting him
while he's in the tunnel. It will collapse before I can get him out."

"I'll go," Harry volunteered.

"As will I," Neelix echoed.

"I believe I could be of assistance also," Tuvok added, flexing his
newly healed hand as he stood.

"Knowing Mr. Paris, if he is alive, he will need immediate medical
attention," the Doctor said, gathering up a medkit.  "I really don't
want to leave Lieutenant Torres right now, but if I'm right and she's
unconscious because he is..."

"Getting him back and healing him will permanently wake her," the ship
finished for him with a hint of something in her voice as she said the
last word.

"Yes."

"The mining equipment we used on the moon has been cleaned of the
yatelite ore so we can safely take it with us on Sunfire," Neelix
informed them.  "That and something for braces should be all that
we'll we need to clear the collapsed section of tunnel and brace it
until we get him out."

All four looked to the Captain for permission to go.  Pale and with
tears in her eyes at the thought of having left her precious
pseudo-son behind and dying, she nodded and three of them rushed out.

The Doctor looked at Wildman.  "A test of fire, I'm afraid, Ensign."

"We're supposed to be safely hidden here from what I've heard," she
told him, "so we shouldn't encounter any medical emergencies I can't
handle.  I hope."

"Hopefully we'll be back by sometime the day after tomorrow.  Just
tell the crew to stay out of trouble until then."

As he donned his mobile emitter, Sam laid a hand on his sleeve. "Bring
him back alive.  Naomi...."

"I understand."  He gave her a nod, gathered his medkit and left the
two women alone with the patient.

Sam watched the Captain move over to B'Elanna's bedside and brush back
the thick black hair of the half-Klingon.  Her heart went out to them.
This was not easy for any of the crew, but especially not for those
two.

'And not for me either,' she said to herself.  She still had not told
her daughter about Paris' death.  She could not find the words nor
could she find the strength to face the unspoken accusations her
daughter inevitably would throw at her.  At the time, concerned about
his past and how it might impact on Naomi, she had been certain
separating the two of them had been in Naomi's best interest.  Now she
was not so sure.

Like most others on the ship, Sam, upon hearing Tom Paris was the one
most directly responsible for their restoration to Voyager, had
experienced a softening of her attitude towards him.  Few were willing
to trust him completely, but most at least wanted him back on the ship
with them to at least say thank you and be there if their opinions
changed.

Surfacing from her musings, she focused on the Captain tucking
B'Elanna back in then leaving without a word and sighed.

---

"Come on," Neelix said to his three companions when they materialized
on Sunfire's Bridge.  "I'll show you were you can store your gear and
where the Equipment Room is."

Completely focused on their mission, Harry did not do the open-mouthed
gaping that others had performed upon seeing the interior of Sunfire
for the first time.  Instead he followed Neelix off of into the
turbolift with nary a glance around him.

Tuvok, on the other hand, watched the scene on the main viewer change
as they went to warp then glanced quickly about him as he proceeded to
the lift with the Doctor in tow.

"I was surprised when you volunteered," the EMH said to him.  "I would
have thought you'd want to stay with Voyager in case she came under
attack."

The other two turned to the Security Chief, interested themselves in
his answer.  He did not disappoint.

"Indications are Voyager is well off of routes commonly used by Gherop
ships," he replied, "therefore she should be safely hidden where she
is.  My presence is not required there."

As the doors opened and they exited, the others thought they heard him
softly say: "And I do owe him my life" though no one commented.  All
remembered the time months earlier when Tom and Tuvok almost had died
in a climbing accident and Tom had carried Tuvok's katra while the
Vulcan's body had healed.  Being Vulcan and added to the fact he had
had to help hide the secrets about Tom's past that he had learned
during his time in Tom's body, Tuvok naturally had not shown any
outward signs of a strengthening of their bond of friendship after
their experience.  But his presence now was all the evidence of it
anyone would have needed.

---

"Is he awake, Sme?" the male voice asked in hushed tones.

"I cannot tell, Mksa, but I don't think so," the female voice answered
equally softly.

"Did he say anything when he woke?"

"Only 'Voyager'.  I was questioning him as to what he was.  When I
asked if he was sent by them or was from Voyager or what, he said
'Voyager' then fell back asleep."

"You believe him?"

"I don't know.  Any confirmation about what he is?"

"One of our informants tentatively confirmed this one might be from
Voyager," a second male voice said.  "When the Voyager crew were
beamed down, he saw one of the them without clothing - a pale skinned
one - and he had... 'extra bits' like this one.  And there were a
couple who were blue."

"So he might be a hybrid of the two or some other legitimate alien,
not some experiment by E'Arte's people."

"Yes, but what are the odds he would look like us?"

"Long before you were born, Kni, I was ship's doctor on one of the
Rachar trading vessels.  I saw many coincidences when travelling the
trade routes.  Perhaps where Voyager comes from there's an entire
planet like him.  Or he is indeed a hybrid of the pale skinned ones on
Voyager who have these 'extra bits' and the blue ones."

"And E'Arte merely was extremely lucky to find one of his kind on
Voyager?"

"A stretch of the imagination, but yes."

"And he convinced him to help him destroy us?" Mksa chimed in.

"I don't know about that," Kni admitted.  "Everything we've heard
about the crew of Voyager, they cannot be bought.  If they could have
been, E'Arte would have done so, not concocted this elaborate plan of
his to trick them."

"Blackmail, perhaps?"

"Maybe."

Deciding he had heard enough to establish he was relatively safe and
not with the greys or their agents, Tom opened his eyes and looked at
the two males and the female standing to one side of his bed.  "You're
Verta," he whispered.

It was not a question, but a conclusion.  And given the quick,
unguarded reaction of each of them, it was a correct one, too.

"No blackmail.  I came to free-" A coughing fit overtook him and the
physician rushed forwards to help him.  Pain shot up Tom's left side.
The taste of his own blood was in his mouth.  "Bag," he gasped then
coughed some more.

Kni ran over to the table on the far side of the room and came back
with the battered bag they had found in the rubble with the patient.

Coughing growing more violent, Tom fumbled with the contents.

"What do you need?"  Sme dumped the contents out onto the bed and
began sifting through them.

"Box."

She picked out the medkit and opened it.

After double-checking his diagnosis with the tricorder, Tom grabbed
another of the instruments and waved it over his left lung.  The pain
and coughing lessened then ceased as the rib was regenerated and the
hole in his lung sealed.  Sighing in relief and exhaustion, he slumped
back into the mattress, arm falling to the mattress.

"Will you be all right now?"

"For now," he nodded.  "My crewmates.  From Voyager.  Have you heard
anything about them?  Or about a female who was in the tunnel with
me?"

"The female, yes," Kni nodded.  "Two children say they saw her exit
the tunnel then just vanish."

Briefly closing his eyes, Tom sighed.  'At least the Captain made it
out,' he thought.  "What about those being held inside the prison?  Or
another one who was being held there separately?  Did they recapture
him?  Did he vanish too?"

"We haven't heard anything about those in the cells.  As for the one
who was held apart from the others, the last we heard of him, he still
was their prisoner.  He hadn't escaped."

"He did.  I saw him dressed as a grey and trying to escape through the
crowds."  He held up an enhancer. "I slipped one of these into his
pocket so Sunfire could lock on to him more easily."

"We don't know if he was recaptured or vanished."

Sighing, Tom rubbed his face with both hands then one hand slipped
down to scratch an itch on his neck.  Feeling a small lump under the
skin behind his ear he groaned at his stupidity.  There he was
questioning these three when he could just contact Sunfire or Voyager
and find out.  "Paris to Sunfire." Silence.  "Paris to Voyager.  Come
in."  No answer there either.  He noticed the three Rachar giving him
strange looks and explained the subdermal implant.  "It must be
malfunctioning somehow.  Would it be possible for me to send an
encoded message to them?"

"With security all over the planet so tight, they'd detect it right
away."

Tom closed his eyes again and sighed.

Mksa, who had been warily watching the patient, decided to use the
lull in the conversation to get an answer to a question that had been
causing him concern since he had first seen the object.  Picking the
key off of the table where Tom's clothes still lay, he held it up.
"How did you get this?" he demanded.

Opening his eyes, Tom saw what it was and explained how he had taken
it from the guards outside of the Captain's cell and kept it to delay
the greys' freeing their comrades and finding Janeway was gone. After
a second's digestion of these facts, Kni explained who the "greys", as
Tom kept calling them, really were then urged him to go back a few
steps and detail how he had made it inside the prison in the first
place.  Slowly, Tom went over the entire rescue plan from start to
finish.

While the other two were greatly impressed by the daring of Tom's
plan, Mksa was not.  He drew Kni off to one side.  "Do you believe any
of this?"

"Yes, I think I do," his friend told him.  "Furthermore I think this
is the opportunity we've been looking for.  With that key, we can
access three quarters of the prison.   And that tunnel can get us
inside."

"But how do we know we can trust him?"

"You can't," Tom admitted having overheard everything.  "Anymore than
I can you.  But it seems we need each other.  You now have the key,
but I know the layout of the tunnel and what rooms the exits come out
into.  So we'll make a deal.  I can't dig out the cave-in all by
myself. I'll need help."  He pushed himself up to a sitting position,
the blankets falling to almost uncover his "extra bits."  "If you help
me clear the cave-in so I can get back inside, I'll give you the
layout and whatever other information I have on that place.  Deal?"

"Why do you want back in there so badly?"

"You say the Captain was seen vanishing, but I can't be sure any of
the others are safe.  If they're still trapped in there and the Gherop
know the Captain's missing - which doubtless they will any time now if
they don't already - any prisoners they have suddenly become targets
for their anger and confusion at losing her.  Since I can't raise
Sunfire or Voyager, I must assume they were destroyed or had to
retreat and did not get the crew.  If Sunfire was following orders,
which she usually does, she wouldn't have beamed up the others until
she had transporter signals on all of us.  Is there any hope of
contacting your people on the inside and them finding out if the
crew's gone?"

"Not with this security," Kni said.  "And it's doubtful any one on the
outside will let anything slip either. E'Arte's given explicit
instructions regarding Voyager and what everyone is and is not to say
about her."

"He doesn't want to lose face in front of his leader," Tom guessed.

"Exactly."

Tom looked at Mksa again.  "So if I want to be sure they've made it
out, I have to go back into the lion's den."

The three of them did not understand the saying, but the meaning was
clear.

"I'll need to speak with my superiors," Kni told him.  "I'll return
soon."

"The sooner the better.  My crew's lives may be depending on it."

"In the meantime, you should rest," Sme admonished.

"I'll be fine now," Tom assured her, but lay down anyway.  As far as
he could tell, the damage to his body somehow had overwhelmed his
Implant's ability to channel his pain into constructive uses and
permit him to continue functioning.  Now that the majority of the
damage to his body was repaired, he hoped he would be back to
operating at peak efficiency.  'A short nap certainly wouldn't do any
harm,' he thought as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

---

"Gherop ships," Sunfire warned and Neelix and the three males he had
been showing around the Bridge looked towards the main viewer.

"Your cloak is working this time?" Neelix whispered, as though nervous
the ships so far away could hear him.

"Yes.  We won't be seen."

"They are travelling in a rather odd fashion," Tuvok judged.

Harry nodded.  "They're not hurrying at all and they're spread out,
not travelling in a line."

"Almost like they're looking for something," the EMH mused.  "Or
someone."

The Security Chief raised a brow.  "Sunfire, can you send a message to
Voyager and not have the Gherop detect it?"

"All ready on it."

"Voyager should be safe in that nebula."

"Unless the Gherop see what an effective hiding place it is as we did
and decide to investigate it," Harry added morbidly.

"Think good thoughts," Neelix urged, patting Harry's back.

Harry did not bother to acknowledge the advice.  All of his "good
thoughts" were focused on getting to Tom in time to save him.

---

"Not again," B'Elanna groaned as she opened her eyes and saw where she
was yet again.  "Many more times in here and I'll be able to beat Tom'
record for greatest number of stays in Sickbay as a patient."

"Not quite, but close," Sam grinned, checking her patient's vitals.
"How do you feel?"

"Tired.  What happened this time?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Her fuzzy brain thought for a minute.  "Waking here.  Talking to you
and the Doctor."

"And before that?"

"Being on Sunfire.  I'd just finished repairing her and she was being
really snarky to me," she said, using some of the Twentieth Century
slang she had picked up from Tom.  "Then I felt this horrible pain in
my chest and head and aching all over then I appeared here.  And the
Doctor was here then I don't remember until I woke up and saw you
two."

"That's okay.  Now you just rest for a while longer.  Are you
comfortable? Do you want another blanket?"

"I don't want another blanket.  I want some answers."

"You need to rest first."

"I'm tired of this!  Every time I ask what's wrong with me I get a run
around.  Where's the Doctor?  He'll answer my questions or I'll
rearrange his-"

"He and some others went off on Sunfire for a while.  He should be
back in a couple of days."

"Why?  Where have they gone?"

"Back to Rachar."

"We left?"

"While you were unconscious.  Now, how about you rest and I'll call
the Commander and have him come down, hmm?"

"But-"

"Rest and I'll call him."

"Where's Tom?  Did he go with them?"

This one was a hard one for Sam.  So far she had not lied to B'Elanna.
She knew if she did, the other woman never would forgive her when she
finally found out the truth - whether the outcome of the rescue
mission was good or bad.  "Tom's not here either, but I'm sure if he
were, he'd be telling you the same thing I'm telling you.  Now rest."
She ducked into the office before any more hard questions could be
fired at her.

When she exited the office a few minutes later to find her patient
asleep once more, she sighed and called the Commander again to tell
him not to hurry.

---

When Zji and the other Rachar slaves on hand to serve the feast being
held in the former Royal Dining Hall finally saw the male about whom
they had heard so many terrifying rumours, they were less than
impressed.  On the short and rotund side for a Gherop, T'Do was overly
dressed in finery and affected behaviours that would have been comical
were it not for the one thing that proved all the stories of him were
true - the look in his eyes.  They were malevolent points of grey and
sent shivers down the backs of anyone upon whom they rested.

After the complicated greetings were over, E'Arte switched to simpler
and more to the point language. "Welcome to Rachar, T'Do," E'Arte
said, pretending he was unfazed by the emperor's presence.  "It is an
honour to have you visit."

"This hardly is a social visit," T'Do pronounced, seating himself at
the head of the table without a glance at the once more beautiful
room.  "I am here to deal with these people."

Taking his seat many chairs removed from the head of the table where
he usually would have sat, E'Arte made no comment and none was
expected by either T'Do or any of his entourage, currently settling
themselves in the chairs around him.

"Update me on this Verta situation," T'Do commanded once his food
tasters had pronounced the meal safe for his consumption.  "Your last
four communiques all claimed you had a plan to finish them off, yet
you have not."

"Actually, T'Do, my plan was about to come to fruition when your fleet
was detected on approach and they bolted."

"'They'?  The Verta?  I was told they did not have ships."

"Not, the Verta, Voyager and Sunfire.  Surely your fleet detected at
least one ship, if not both, in orbit when they came within sensor
range of Rachar."

At a glance from T'Do, the captain of the T'Do T'Nar nodded.  "Yes, we
saw one," he said to E'Arte, "and thought there was another but it
vanished.  We assumed it was a sensor echo of some sort.  My people
are still trying to track it down."

"Well, you can tell them to stop.  It was no echo, but a ship with
technology able to trick sensors into thinking it is not there."  He
turned back to T'Do.  "Some time ago, I received reports of Voyager
and her unique technology.  This was before Sunfire came to join her.
I knew instantly Voyager and her technology would be quite the asset
to our people and set about luring her here to Rachar."

"You should have just taken her," T'Do admonished.

"The reports of her needed to be verified first.  And her crew would
not surrender easily.  They would destroy themselves and the ship
rather than surrender her.  So, I had her driven towards Rachar
through a series of guided attacks then when she arrived, tricked her
crew into thinking they were safe and letting us on to their ship." He
sighed.  "We were about to find out everything there was to know about
her systems when they saw your fleet coming and were spooked.  I have
alerted our ships and they are out looking for her, but I doubt
they'll be able to take her without incurring much damage."

The tone of voice he used was short of insubordination and he knew he
was daring fate by using it. Still, if placing blame for this failure
could be placed, not at his own feet, but at those of T'Do's own
fleet, he might escape from this unscathed.  Provided everyone on
Rachar kept their mouths closed about what really had happened here.

"I want these ships found."  A pointed look was sent in E'Arte's
direction. "I want to see these reports of her abilities and all other
information you may have on her."

E'Arte gestured to I'Nu, standing a few paces behind his superior's
chair. The clerk moved forward and handed a datacrystal to T'Do then
returned to his place.

Clearly unhappy at being deprived of giving E'Arte censure for not
being prepared, the Gherop emperor shoved the crystal at his aide.
"Tomorrow, I shall wish a full briefing on the Verta situation-"

Another gesture from E'Arte, I'Nu handed over another crystal, and
T'Do looked less than pleased yet again.

"Tomorrow I shall show you how to handle rebels."

The look in T'Do's eyes as he said the last word made even E'Arte feel
sorry for the Verta.

---

"Captain, we're receiving an encoded message," Harry's substitute at
Ops announced over the Comm. "It's somehow decrypting all by itself."
She paused.  "It's from Sunfire. Audio only.  One way."

Janeway automatically drew away from Chakotay's hands were they rested
on her shoulders and hurried out of the Ready Room.

Sighing, he followed her.  They had been discussing ship's business
when Wildman had contacted him about B'Elanna being awake and asking
difficult questions.  Naturally, upon hearing this, the Captain's
guilt rose to the surface and she had been determined to go down to
Sickbay and confess all to B'Elanna, accepting the consequences.  Only
Wildman calling back to tell him B'Elanna was asleep again had stopped
the guilt ridden woman from leaving.  It had given him time to use all
of his powers of persuasion to convince her to wait until Sunfire
returned with Tom or at least his body before she threw herself on
B'Elanna's mercy - and he knew there would be extremely little of it
in the devastated half-Klingon.  When the rescuers returned, then she
would know how much of the load of guilt she was carrying actually was
rightfully hers and they could go from there.

As he entered the Bridge a few steps behind her, he still was not
completely certain she was going to abide by their agreement.

The Captain listened to Sunfire's warning about the Gherop ships with
a grimace.  "We'll have to hope they overlook us or we get our repairs
completed in time.  I'll be in Engineering checking on their progress,
Commander.  You have the Bridge."

Now a woman with a mission, there was no trace of the emotionally
fragile creature he had comforted and reasoned with in the Ready Room.

---

Tom awoke with a start at the gentle shaking of his shoulder.

"My superiors have accepted your deal," Kni said from beside him.

"Good."  He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands.  "I'll need to
get dressed then we'll get started."

He watched Tom get out of bed and begin dressing.  "There is a
condition."

"What?"

"We want into the caverns.  We know they keep weapons and various
types of equipment there.  We want you to lead us into them.  You stay
with us while we're getting what we need then once we're out then you
go after your people."

"I know you're just trying to be cautious.  You don't want to run the
risk of this turning out to be a double cross and ending up being led
into a trap.  I understand that, but my people may be in serious
trouble here.  I've already wasted enough time."

"That is the deal my superiors have agreed to."

Repacking his bag, Tom sighed.  "You know I have no other choice but
to say yes."

"Then let's get started."

It was just turning dusk when Tom and Kni, finished with their
planning, left Sme's home and hiked to the tunnel entrance.

Tom was unhappy with the lack of intelligence coming out of the
prison.  He understood security was tight with this important Gherop
coming so they could not sneak out information very freely, but hated
going in anywhere practically blind as he was in this instance.
Unfortunately, he had no choice.  As long as there was a chance the
others still were inside, facing who knew what sort of tortures - and
Kni had filled him in on some of the Gherop's more novel interrogation
methods - he could not sit idly by.  He would have felt better if he
could have contacted the ships or Janeway to co-ordinate rescue plans.
The Verta said they could not contact Voyager or Sunfire and he still
was not one hundred percent certain Janeway even had beamed up.  The
kids who had seen her "vanish" easily could been mistaken and merely
lost sight of her in the darkness.  For all he knew she was hiding
somewhere out here.

Placing all his reservations behind him, Tom went along with their
agreement.  He listened to their grandiose plans for the newly
discovered tunnel then simplified them to a manageable size and
improved upon the logistics so they were not unnecessarily exposing
themselves to danger.  He did not want to find the crew by ending up
being tossed into the cell next to them.

When they arrived, Kni gave a signal and more than three dozen armed
Rachar led by Mksa hurried out of their hiding places a ways off in
the woods.  Earlier, Kni had sent word to Mksa of Tom's agreement to
the condition and to gather tools and as many loyal Verta as he could
to join in raid.  Tom did not know if there were any others hiding out
of sight as insurance if he betrayed them - his sixth sense told him
there were - but he did not really care.  The sooner the Verta got
what they wanted, the sooner he would be free of this condition and he
could go after the crew.

The Rachar were fast workers and deceptively strong.  As he worked
along side them, clearing the blockage in the tunnel and shoring up
the obvious weak spots, Tom absently mused they might be almost as
strong as B'Elanna.  He quickly shoved that thought aside.  Thinking
of her possibly still a prisoner inside these mountains was not
something he liked to contemplate, especially not after the horror
stories Kni had told him on their way there of the Gherop.

By Tom's estimation, it took almost three hours before they made it to
the grate covering the opening to the cavern they said they wanted.
Signalling the others to stop a few metres short of the opening, Tom
removed his bag from his shoulder and handed it to Kni, withdrawing
his phaser pistol as he did.  He checked the charge then crept towards
the opening.

Still wearing his night vision contacts, he could see easily through
the dim illumination of the cavern cum storage room.  Towers of crates
were everywhere.  He could not read the markings, but that was not
important.  It was the Verta's problem if what they were hoping to
find was not there.  His problem was dealing with the two Gherop he
could hear talking somewhere across the room.

Carefully removing the grate, he slipped out and replaced it before
skulking through the shadows to a better vantage point.  Since no
alarms had gone off the last time he had discharged his weapon inside
this facility, he felt it safe to do so again.  After verifying his
tricorder's information that the only occupants of the cavern were he
and the two aliens unloading crates from the back of the small land
vehicle, he felled them with two quick phaser blasts.  When no klaxons
blared, he shot out of his hiding place, checked to see the maximum
stun setting had not accidentally killed them then returned to the
grate to help Kni and Mksa out to collect the items they wanted.

And they wanted practically everything they saw and he could not
really blame them.  He guessed the Verta were like most rebel forces
he had encountered - determined yet ill-equipped to achieve their
objective.  This storeroom was to them like the proverbial candy shop
was to a child.  Almost everything here was of immeasurable value to
them.  Still, he tried to be the voice of reason and reminded them of
the logistical nightmare that would ensue if they tried to take all of
this with them.  Naturally this warning fanned Mksa's distrust of him
and only Kni's calm insistence Tom was right and they had to get
moving pacified him for the moment.

In the end, they took only three-quarters of what they would have
liked to have.  At Tom's suggestion that the fewer clues they left for
the Gherop of what they had done the better, they opened the crates,
took what they wanted from the contents then closed them up once more
as best they could.  The contents were taken to the tunnel opening and
Rachar after Rachar were loaded down with as much as he or she could
carry to the surface then come back for more.  They had not told Tom
where they were going with what they took or how they planned to get
it there and for all their sakes he had not asked.  All he wanted was
for them to hurry up and get their stuff and get out so he could get
to the crew's cells and see if they still were there.

Picking up his bag from the cavern floor near the opening, he gestured
to Kni and Mksa that it was time to go, the Gherop would be waking
soon.  With a last look around to ensure they had left no traces of
their visit, they took the last loads into the tunnel.

Not joining Kni in the tunnel, Tom nodded to him.  "This is where we
part company," he told him, handing his load to another Rachar who
appeared behind Kni.

"I'll wait in the woods for you," the Verta cell leader reminded him,
"but only until just before daybreak. If you can free your people,
bring them there and I'll guide you all to a safe place.  Good luck to
you."

"And you."  Tom replaced the grate, jogged to the smaller of the two
doors to the hall, then slipped out once his tricorder said all was
clear.

---

In the tunnel, Mksa and Kni exchanged looks.

"All in place," the former told the latter.

Kni nodded then they continued up the tunnel with their booty.


---

All of Tom's efforts turned to be for nothing.  When he finally made
it down to the level where the crew was supposed to have been being
held, he found only empty cells and very nearly trouble.  He had snuck
out of there only seconds before a group of Gherop stomped through on
patrol, grumbling about their increased workload, being forced to
return to the behaviours dictated by T'Do's court, and why they had to
guard empty cells.  Continuing down the stairs towards the maximum
security level where they had incarcerated Janeway, he found no
tricorder readings corresponding to the crew and only a few for
Gherop. Deciding they had to have been moved elsewhere or beamed out
by Sunfire after all, he made his way to the fifth level entrance to
the tunnel.

---

In one of the quarters on the second level, two female Rachar and a
male watched on a monitor the pseudo-Rachar's "tour" of the facility
then disappearance through a grate when he was alone in the hallway.
Using the computer access their positions as trusted friends of the
Gherop provided, plus the advanced computer skills of one of them,
they had circumvented the Gherop's own security system and had hidden
Tom's wanderings from them.  One false move on his part and they would
have revealed all, but he had not done anything suspect so they
permitted him to escape.

Once the monitor showed only the hallway and the occasional Rachar or
Gherop passing down it, the hacker extricated herself from the Gherop
systems and turned to her companions.

The male nodded to the second female who picked up her cleaning
supplies - her pretence for having been in his quarters - and left on
her errand.  The other two remained behind for a few minutes more then
messed their hair and clothing and went to the hall where they made a
show of a long, affectionate, and very reluctant farewell.  Any Rachar
or Gherop paid the pair no mind.  These two had established this cover
long ago and now to see them like this was commonplace, though most
could not see what she apparently saw in the big, ugly male.  Finally,
they parted and she went to her quarters.

---

"Captain," the security officer called from the Tactical station, "I'm
detecting Gherop signals.  They're faint and muffled by the nebula,
but they're there."

"Keep an eye on them," Janeway advised.  "If they get any stronger,
tell me immediately."

"Aye, Captain."

---

"How's she doing?" Chakotay quietly asked Joe, taking him off to one
side of Engineering so they could observe a newly back at work Chief
Engineer without her seeing or hearing them.

"She's okay.  As you asked, I passed the word to everyone to keep
their mouths shut about Tom and why the others really have gone off on
Sunfire.  I think she's buying the story of yours about them
investigating things on Rachar to see if we can help."

"Well, it's not totally untrue."

"Janeway to Chakotay," his combadge called.

"Go ahead."

"Gherop ships are in the area.  How long until repairs are finished
down there?"

"Not sure.  B'Elanna?" he called, walking towards her with Carey. "The
Captain says there are Gherop ships in the area.  How long until
repairs are done?"

"Another four hours at least.  We've found some more problems."

"Do your best," the Captain urged her.  "Janeway out."

---

The first light of dawn was beginning to kiss the horizon and Kni was
about to leave for home when Tom Paris appeared, alone, at their
rendezvous point.  From a distance removed from the spot, Kni watched
for indications Tom had been followed and found none.  Even though he
had received confirmation through their informants of the alien's
actions within the prison, he continued to be careful.  He watched Tom
look around the small clearing for him then, as the human was about to
leave, Kni caught his attention.

Without asking about the crew or saying a word at all, he gestured for
Tom to follow him.

---

"That's odd," the Gherop technician muttered to himself.

"What's odd?" his supervisor asked from behind him.

"This."  He pointed to the results of extensive research into the past
five different instances of power failures.  "I can't believe we never
noticed it before.  It's not exactly right in plain sight, but it's
still there."

"Agreed.  The technician who is supposed to monitor these things...
Lpse? How could she have not noticed this?"

Their eyes met as the answer became clear - she could not have missed
it, not if she had done the checking she claimed to have done.

"I knew it was a bad idea to entrust a Rachar with any responsibility
here." He pointed to another of his underlings.  "Find out where she
is."

The underling nodded and went to another console to call up the duty
roster.

One of the two Rachar cleaners who had been working unnoticed in the
far corner of the room, picked up her bucket and mop and left the room
as well.  Her co-worker remained behind, dusting.

"Now what could have been the purpose of the power failures?"

"To re-route the power for some other purpose?  To cover up
something?"

His lips twisted.  "Can you tell if she's responsible for the failures
or was she covering for someone else?"

"I can't tell.  She could have done it herself, if some sort of timer
mechanism was used at either end.  Otherwise, she could have an
accomplice.  Of course she could just have missed it as I nearly did.
I don't know."

"Localize the site where the power failures were initiated."

"Never in the same spot.  Each of these areas have been the
instigators of failures."

"Cross reference the activity in the areas with the incidents of power
failures.  I want to know who was in that area at the time.  Other
than our people naturally.  I think *we* can be eliminated as
suspects."

As the two began their search, the second Rachar cleaner listened
carefully as they came closer and closer to discovering the truth.
Silently, she wished her colleague all speed in warning the others
before it was too late.

---

"I have been sent for the technician known as Lpse."

Frowning, the Rachar doctor turned to the soldier who had clomped into
her nice, quiet Infirmary and jerked a thumb towards the bed with the
body covered by a sheet.  "You're too late," she said.  "She's dead."

"What?" he gasped, first looking at her then the corpse then back at
her again.  "I was told she came here only moments ago with some sort
of stomach trouble."

"And she died not long after that.  She had a history of stomach
problems. I was never able to find the cause."

"What's with him?"  He gestured to Plwa who was entering the room with
a devastated look on his face and a body bag in his hands.

"He was her lover," she told him in a quiet voice.  "He was about to
take her out to be buried, but if you think your superiors would like
to see her anyway... She's only just started to decompose so she
doesn't smell too bad yet."

"No."  He gestured with hand dismissing hand as he left.  "Take it
away."

Empty handed, the Gherop soldier returned to his superior to inform
him of the death of the prime suspect in the power failures only to
find out Lpse no longer had the honour of that title.

"Find me the P'Chi Plwa," he was ordered.  "He is in his quarters."

The soldier looked at the image on the screen and frowned.  "No, he
isn't."

"What?"

"He was in the Infirmary waiting to take the body of Lpse out for
burial."

The two Gherop looked at each other for a long moment then out of the
office and for the lift. The senior of the two shouting orders into
his communicator for the nearest soldiers to the Infirmary to secure
it so no one left.

---

Confused, but knowing an order when they heard one, the soldiers near
the Infirmary did as ordered and secured the room.  When their
superiors arrived minutes later, they found the doctor glaring at them
for this "ridiculous nonsense" and two Gherop patients, who had been
in drug induced sleeps, more or less conscious and singing a naughty
Gherop drinking song about a prostitute with four hands and two heads.

Plwa and Lpse's body were gone.

---

The instant Plwa and his burden were out of the stronghold and out of
range of their sensors, he carefully lay the body bag down and
unfastened the stays.  After administering the neutralizing agent and
waiting for a moment, he and the now conscious Lpse exchanged nods and
Plwa helped her to her feet and off to their destination.

---

"You didn't find your crew," Sme concluded upon seeing Tom and Kni
solemnly walking down the corridor of the Verta's underground base.

Forestalling any comment Tom might have made, Kni sadly touched the
old woman's shoulders.  "She's worse, isn't she?"

"Yes.  I don't know how much longer she can hold on."

Kni sat down on a bench and leaned his head back against the wall,
eyes closed.

Tom looked from one to the other.

The only thing his companion had told him on their hike to this place
was the leaders of the Verta wanted to see Tom and he was taking him
to them.  The tiny, ramshackle hut next to a derelict well in the
foothills of the mountains had seemed like a relatively safe meeting
place to Tom.  He had not fully appreciated the site until Kni rapped
out a series of knocks on the floorboards and received some in return
and a well disguised trapdoor opened and they had dropped down into a
narrow tunnel leading them deep into the caverns that were the Verta's
main base.  'It was ironic,' Tom thought, 'both Gherop and Verta using
the mountains' natural features as their bases and so close together
too. Logical, but ironic all the same.'

"Who's dying?" he asked when they failed to enlighten him.

"The Queen," Sme answered.  "She was injured during the Gherop
take-over and never has been the same.  Then a season ago, she was
tending wounded and caught something I can't identify.  Most of those
wounded died from it, but she's lasted this long.  I don't know how
much longer she can keep that up though."

Automatically, Tom jerked into medic mode.  "Let me see her.  My
medkit's only got the basics, but maybe we can do something."

Sme looked at Kni.  Opening his eyes, he nodded and stood.  "You'll
take him?  I want to see everything made it here okay and check the
intelligence reports."

The three parted company.  Sme and Tom went back the way she had come
while Kni went off down another corridor.

"I don't know if I should be sorry you did not find your crew or
happy," she confessed.

"All I've verified is they're not there.  There's still a slim chance
they may have been moved elsewhere."

Tom could not figure out why she looked uncomfortable at this
statement.  He was about to open his mouth and ask when they came to
the Infirmary and he was ushered into the presence of the most
important woman on the planet.

"Sme, you've returned already?" asked the frail voice of the woman
lying practically motionless under the blanket.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the doctor nodded.  "I have brought the alien
with me. He thinks he might be able help you."

Taking out his medkit, he waved the diagnostic wand over the blue
Rachar female.  Many of the readings made no sense to him so he waved
it over the physician and a young nurse working close by to use as
base readings then compared the patient's against them.  Only years of
instruction by Alpha Two on hiding his emotions kept him from showing
his reaction to the results. There was nothing he could do for her,
not with the limited resources he had at his disposal.  Maybe if he
had had Sunfire or Voyager's Sickbay's, he might have been able to
help, but not with one emergency medkit and the limited and unfamiliar
equipment he saw here.

"You cannot help me either," the queen guessed.  There was no censure
in her voice, only acceptance.

"No, Your Majesty.  The tissue damage is too extensive."

She lifted one trembling hand from the blanket and touched his
forearm. "Leave us," she said to the others, who instantly obeyed,
though kept darting glances back to them as they left.  "Sit.  You are
so tall. It hurts my eyes to look up so high."

Closing his tricorder and setting it aside, he snagged a chair leg
with a toe and dragged it over to him to do as requested.

"I maybe confined to this bed, but I have heard much about your
people. What they're like and how they treat others.  Are you like the
others?"

"More or less."

"Explain."

Something about this woman and the earnestness of her tone made him do
just that.  He told her about himself, about his family and friends
and career, and about his past - all of it, good and bad.  When he
finished, the hand that had stayed on his forearm the entire time he
was speaking lifted and brushed the shaggy blue hair out of his eyes.
A gentle smile touched her lips.

"I knew this would be so," she said, nodding.  "I have a confession to
make to you.  I am sorry as I know it caused you pain and that is
unfortunate, but necessary for the future of my people."

Tom's eyes narrowed as his keen mind leapt to the only logical
conclusion. "Your people knew before we ever went into the prison that
my people weren't there."

She blinked in surprise.  "Yes.  They beamed out to your ship and left
as the first of T'Do's ships were detected on the way."

His eyes took on a hollow look.  "They thought I was dead.  And they
had to get out of here quick or be caught by them again so they left
without coming to recover my body." To himself, he finished the
thought.  'It wasn't like there'd be anyone urging them to get me so
they could have a proper funeral.'

"How did you know?" she asked, not knowing his sad thoughts.

Blue eyes returned to blue eyes.  "It bothered me that absolutely no
information was coming out of there.  Even with this T'Do coming here
and security naturally being tightened, any rebels worth their salt
would find some way to get information out."

"Yes, we have been receiving reports from inside as usual.  The
methods of getting the information has had to become a bit more
creative however."

"Keeping me in the dark was necessary to see if I was a plant."

"Exactly.  If you were telling the truth, then we finally would have a
real chance at defeating them.  If you were lying, then we'd know for
sure."  She smiled.  "But you weren't lying and now we not only have a
way into the prison, but also arms and equipment to fight them."

"How do you know it still wasn't all a trick?" he asked though he
sensed he knew the answer before a new voice answered the question.

"Because you were under careful observation all the time you were
inside," the deep male voice said.

Though he had not indicated such, Tom had noticed the large, green on
green male with the strange hairstyle and standing just inside of the
door to the Infirmary long before he had spoken.  Now the pilot looked
up from the startled eyes of the queen to focus on him.

The queen herself turned her head towards the newcomer and sighed his
name. "Plwa."

The Rachar lumbered towards the bed to clasp her delicate hand in his
big paw.  "My queen."

"Plwa, it has been so long."

"Too long."

"But you're here...?"

"The Gherop were on to Lpse and soon would have been on to me as well.
With T'Do's visit they have become paranoid he or his people will find
something wrong with them or their practices.  E'Arte did not want
another power failure while T'Do was touring the prison tomorrow so he
ordered his people to track down the cause and fix it.  They actually
managed to find it.  Lpse is very sorry and -"

She squeezed his hand.  "Tell her it is not her fault.  I know she did
her best."

He nodded, grateful.

"What about the one you were watching over?"

"There was another power failure," he said with a knowing smile,
leaving no doubt as to who had had a hand in its occurring.  "I made
sure he escaped and had a plan of the facility.  He was heading for
the surface when he suddenly disappeared."  He looked at Tom.  "I'm
assuming you had something to do with that."

Tom frowned then quickly clued in that Plwa was talking about Harry.
"Harry?  I slipped him an enhancer so he could be beamed up more
easily.  So he did get out?"

"According to reports he beamed up, yes."

"Tom, this is Plwa, my oldest friend in all the Universe.  He guarded
my child before the Gherop came to our world."

The two males nodded to one another.

"I was one of the ones monitoring you when you were inside the
prison," Plwa confessed.  "Many times you were very lucky to escape."

Tom nodded.  "That's usually how it goes."

Plwa half smiled.  "I thought it was not your first time in such a
situation."

"No, it was not."

"Tom is a trained soldier," the queen told her friend.  "I want you to
take him to the others and get his imput on our plans.  Kni said he
was very good when they were planning the raid on the storage room.  I
want to see if he can do the same with our plans."  Her eyes met
Tom's.  "If you will agree to help us."

Tom smiled ironically.  "Everyone on Voyager always used to say I have
an overdeveloped heroic streak.  Besides, if I have any hope of
getting back where I belong, I'm going to have to get to a long range
comm system or a ship and if I'm not mistaken, the only ones of those
are in the hands of the Gherop."  The smile became malevolent.  "That
means the Gherop will have to go."

The two natives smiles.

"And there's the fact you people don't seem to know the K.I.S.S.
principle when it comes to planning. You need someone to simplify
things for you before you bite off more than you can chew."

Plwa frowned.  "K.I.S.S.?"

"Keep It Simple, Stupid.  You people seem to enjoy making things
complicated when they don't have to be."

The queen smiled broadly and touched Tom's cheek.  "You will shake up
the others, that's for sure. Plwa?  Take him?  I must rest now."

Quietly they left the dying woman to her sleep.

---

"How much farther?" Harry asked, stepping onto the Bridge.

His three shipmates and Sunfire glanced at his drawn face and
correctly guessed he had not slept at all. Neither Tuvok nor Neelix
had slept much themselves and knew they probably looked as bad as
Harry did. Sunfire and the Doctor did not require sleep, though would
have told anyone who asked that they would not have been able to sleep
if they were capable of it.  So, understanding Harry's predicament
completely, all refrained from remarking upon his appearance.

"A little over an hour," the ship answered.

Harry nodded and took a seat at the Ops console.

---

"-And so you can see why it is impossible to escape from this
facility," a self-important E'Arte told T'Do's party as they walked
through the maximum security area and towards the lift.

"No place is escape proof," T'Do pronounced.  "Take this beaming
technology Voyager possesses.  That could be used as a means of
escape."

E'Arte carefully schooled his features so as not to betray the truth
that proof of this assumption had been presented only a day earlier.
"True, however if they were telling the truth to my informants,
practically all ships in their home quadrant possess the same
technology.  That would mean they would face the same security risks
as we would here of having to worry about unauthorized transports.
Therefore someone had to have found a way of making transports
impossible.  Once we have Voyager and investigate her databanks,
doubtless the solution will be found."

T'Do's party preceded him into the open lift and they began their
ascent.

"Good.  I would hate to think this facility of which you are so proud
would be found to be lacking," T'Do said with an implied threat of
what would happen if it were.  "Like the storage facility at Mta Ksi,
wasn't it?  I believe that was supposed to be impenetrable too.  Only
the Verta didn't find it so."

"Ah, yes, that was shortly after I arrived here.  The security
measures there, like all others my predecessor had initiated, were
under review when that incident occurred." He reached out to the lift
controls and changed their destination.  "Now the security is much
tighter and the Verta have not been able to repeat that regrettable
incident."

As the lift doors opened and he led them down the hall to the
caverns/storage rooms, E'Arte once again was thankful for I'Nu's
unwavering loyalty to him and cursed his predecessor's clerk.  When
his predecessor had left for a new position, he had left behind his
clerk/lover, claiming he would arrange for her transfer to join him as
soon as he could.  But she had been happy here on Rachar.  Even though
they still had to answer to the Homeworld, they were the supreme power
on this Rachar and she had not wanted to leave it for near obscurity
on some Gherop world.  So, naturally, she had been resentful towards
E'Arte and had reported every little incident on Rachar as though it
was personally E'Arte's fault.  He had delighted in letting her know
about her lover's wife and children and the fact he never had planned
to take her with him.  In a rage, she had gone AWOL to hunt down her
duplicitous love and E'Arte had received I'Nu.  I'Nu understood the
need for keeping T'Do in the dark about some things.

"This facility is not only used to keep prisoners," he explained,
leading them into the cavern filled with crates.  "It also houses our
weapons, parts for equipment, medical supplies, and such.  Everything
the Verta dearly would love to take from us."

"That is rather inconvenient if there is a need for them on the other
side of the planet."

"Each centre has a spare of everything in case of emergency.  There's
only been a delay once?"

I'Nu nodded to him.

"Once and that was because their spare part had a flaw in it. This
system has worked perfectly.  No further losses have been incurred
from our stores."  He did not mention the times the Verta had raided
their supply shipments when they were on route to their destination.

Entourage following, T'Do began to wander around the cavern, clearly
looking for something to criticize.  He found it only a moment later.
"This hardly looks very secure."

E'Arte waved a dismissive hand towards the grate.  "A remnant of the
excavations of this facility. Ventilation and secondary access for the
lower levels.  It collapsed during the drilling of the level we just
left.  No security risk."

"But I can feel air circulating."

"From another room.  There are pockets here and there that still are
open, but the majority caved in and access to the surface was blocked
by a rock sli-"

"What idiot sent the empty crates back here?" a voice shouted from
near the doors to the hall.

"Wasn't me," a second voice denied, equally loudly.  "Try the next
stack."

"I am.  They're empty too."

The tour group came out from behind the towers of crates that had been
concealing them.  The two Gherop technicians who were shouting to one
another as one routed through crates while the other consulted a
report.  From the looks on their faces, they had thought themselves
alone in the cavern. Quickly, they snapped to attention.

"Empty crates are worthy of such security?" T'Do asked with a smirk
and checking the crates himself.

"Clearly an error."

"Hmm."

T'Do obviously was a firm believer that if one finds one mistake, one
will find more for he began nosing around the area.  No one could
believe what he found.

Almost every crate was empty.  A close inspection of each one revealed
telltale marks on the crates signifying they had been opened
previously.  T'Do turned accusing eyes on E'Arte whose mental shock
was mirrored on his face.

"Get our security down here," T'Do growled to his aide then glared at
E'Arte.  "I want to know if this is incompetence on the part of the
staff or this *impenetrable facility* isn't quite so secure as some
claim."

---

Word came of trouble as Tom was debating with Mksa and a few other
hard-liners on the validity of his criticism of their plans.  The
queen had been quite correct in her prediction that Tom would shake
them up. The majority of his carefully worded suggestions for
modifications to their plans were gratefully accepted by most,
especially in light of Plwa's introduction of Tom as "someone the
Queen feels will be of great assistance to us", but Mksa's distrustful
contingent were vocal in their disapproval of him.

Then word came of the Gherop having discovered their shopping trip.
Tom had known the missing items would be discovered, but not so
quickly.  At that messenger's heels came another saying T'Do's people
had discovered the tunnel now was passable and T'Do had issued an
ultimatum that if the Verta were not revealed with in the next hour,
they would begin executing Rachar. Large groups of them were being
rounded up and brought to the grounds of the Royal Palace where the
executions were to take place.

Probably without their even realizing they were doing it, all but
Mksa's group looked at Tom for guidance.  'Well, Paris,' he thought,
'the Admiral groomed your entire life for leadership and The
Protectors programmed in into you.  Now is the time to do some actual
good with what they all taught you.'

"All right, exposing ourselves is not an option-"

"*Our*selves?" Mksa stressed.  "You may look like us, but you're not
one of us."

Seeing he had to nip this in the bud before it became a problem, Tom
addressed him directly.  "I may not have been born here and I won't
lie to you.  I'd rather be back on my ship with my people and have
plenty of light-years between us and this place, but that's not an
option. My ship is gone and the only comm units are in the hands of
the Gherop.  And even if I could get to one, there's no guarantee
Voyager's still within range.  So I'm stuck here, maybe permanently.
And as long as that is the case, I have to pick a side to be on. Verta
or Gherop.  Quite frankly, I don't like bullies and that's all the
Gherop are - bullies with weapons - so that leaves the Verta."

Mksa opened his mouth to comment on the backhanded compliment.  Tom
did not give him the chance to voice it.

"I am a trained soldier.  I know this stuff better than anyone.  It's
been drilled into my head - literally - since I was a newborn.  I am
your best chance of survival.  Whether you like it or not."

Without saying anything, Mksa made it clear he did not like it.

"Now, are we going to keep arguing or are we going to figure out how
to prevent these executions."

The dissenters kept quiet.

"Fine.  Now, they know we're not going to surrender so they're
expecting the relatives and friends of those who are to die to come
forward and begin betraying us.  And at the same time they're going to
be expecting us to attempt to stop this execution.  They'll have as
many of their people as they can spare, hiding all over the area near
the Palace, waiting for us to stick our noses out.  So we're going to
do the opposite of what they're expecting.

"You're just going to let them execute them?" Mksa shouted.

"Hardly.  I have something else in mind, but I need to know our
assets. People, arms, everything."

As Tom gathered the information he needed and his plan was laid out
before them, Mksa whispered to an aide who then detached herself from
the assembly and departed.

In the other end of the room, Tom, engrossed in consulting a map with
the others, did not see the exchange.

---

"They are going to save us, aren't they?" Jmi asked Dtu as they and
the other Rachar were herded out onto the Palace grounds.  "I mean
they won't let us die, will they?"

Dtu was silent for a long moment, thinking.  When her mother, father,
and oldest brother had left her and her other siblings with Jmi's
family the night before, she had begged them to take her along.  She
had guessed they were going on some Verta mission and had wanted to
help. They had refused her, saying she was too young and it was too
dangerous.  Well, she would love to hear their responses now.  When
the Gherop soldiers had swarmed over the village and began grabbing
everyone they could find, everyone had known it could mean nothing
good for them.  None of them had thought for a second they were being
seized as an example group for execution.  Usually when E'Arte ordered
this, the soldiers picked from the Capital or whatever city was in
need of a seeing an example of his absolute power over them.  T'Do for
some reason known only to him had chosen the population of their tiny
village instead to be the example for the Verta ultimatum.  Little did
he know he had the families of a large number of them.

"Dtu?"

She shook her head, not looking at Jmi.  "No, they won't if they are
smart, which they are."

"But-"

Hissing for her to keep her voice down, Dtu grabbed Jmi's arm.  "Do
you honestly think if the Verta revealed themselves that they would be
the only ones who would be killed. You've heard the adults talk about
T'Do.  He is ruthless.  He won't stop even if a few of the Verta or
all of the them turned themselves in.

Tears rose in Jmi's eyes.  "We're going to die."

"But it will be for Rachar."

Not as eager as Dtu to give up his life, even for so worth a cause,
Jmi began to cry.

---

"Halt and identify yourselves," the Gherop soldier commanded.

As per orders, he had been guarding the side door of the shuttle
hangar outside of the Capital since dawn  and he almost was at the
point of wishing something would happen just to liven things up.
Apparently, T'Do expected the rebels would attack any number of a
variety of locations - including the hangar where he now stood - in
retaliation for the upcoming executions.  The soldier could not help
but wonder if no one had tried to tell the emperor that, after one
miserable failure to seize the hangar, the Verta never tried it again.
The rebels did not have the codes necessary to access any of the
shuttles' functions so even if they did seize the hangar, it would be
of little use to them.

But he was a soldier and he had to follow orders, stupid ones and
smart ones regardless.  So what if in the entire time he had been
there, two P'Chi who were approaching were the only souls he seen,
other than the guards patrolling the inside of the hangar.  He was
following his orders and not being brought up on report for
questioning his superiors.  If he ever was going to get promoted and
off of this rock on the farthest edge of Gherop space, having
notations like: "Questions authority" would not do him any service.

"We were sent by T'Do," the big P'Chi male said the instant he and his
companion stood before him. "We bring new instructions."

"Why weren't we just notified over the comm?"

"The Verta are monitoring our communications.  Some of the items
stolen from the prison storeroom were communications equipment.  T'Do
sent us out here to personally relay the information to all of you.
You need to round up your people so we can tell all of you at once
then move on to the next ones we have to speak to.  T'Do doesn't like
delays."

With that implied threat, the soldier rushed inside the hangar,
calling for the soldiers and others inside to come to him.  He never
saw the weapons the two P'Chi withdrew from under their tunics.

Less than a minute later, Plwa reappeared and a group of armed Rachar
with Tom in front ran into the hangar.

"Where is she?" Tom asked Plwa and the big male pointed to the nearest
shuttle.  As the hangar doors were opened and the Verta began entering
the shuttles, Tom closed behind him the hatch of the shuttle Plwa had
indicated.  "How's it coming, Lpse?" he asked running to the helm just
passed her station.

"They don't seem to have found all of my tampering with their
systems," she told him distractedly.  "I've almost got - We're in. The
shuttles are ours."

"Then let's go."

She signalled the other Verta to proceed and he fired up their
shuttle's engines, hoping the crash course the Verta had given him on
the layout of Gherop helms had been correct.

---

"The time is almost up and no sign of any Verta," T'Do remarked
conversationally to E'Arte.  On the once beautiful lawns of the Palace
stood dozens of Rachar.  The adult's angry voices and the crying of
the children reached T'Do's party where they stood on the Royal
Suite's balcony, but they were met with indifference.  "So be it."

He motioned to the soldiers who were keeping the crowd confined to a
tight area.  At that signal, the Gherop fanned out into a line,
raising their weapons.  This new arrangement made it very easy for the
shuttle suddenly appearing out of nowhere to pick the soldiers off
without hitting any civilians.  A cry still went up from the assembly
of natives, who ran in all directions now that their captors were out
of the way.

Immediately, T'Do's people rushed him indoors and out of danger and
E'Arte and I'Nu followed.

"Contact the T'Do T'Nar and tell them to stop that shuttle! T'Do
demanded.

"Our controls aren't responding," the T'Do T'Nar's Captain could be
heard telling T'Do's aide a moment later.

The emperor grabbed the communicator from the aide's hand.  "What do
you mean, aren't responding?" he growled at the captain.

"We're locked out."

"Get our shuttles in the air," E'Arte told I'Nu.

"Already trying to," the clerk answered.  "The soldiers at the hangar
aren't responding."

The shuttle buzzed the windows and they rattled.  "The Verta," E'Arte
spat out.

Shoving the communicator back to its owner, T'Do glared at E'Arte,
leaving no doubt in anyone's mind whom he blamed for everything
falling apart.  "You," he growled, turning to I'Nu.  "That engineering
genius E'Arte's been hiding here from me."

"C'Nar," I'Nu supplied.

"Get him to my shuttle.  I want to have control back.  Immediately."

I'Nu nodded and ran out.

"Have the Final Weapon deployed," he ordered his aide.  "The rest of
you collect my things and take them to the shuttle."

While all hastily exited to do their leader's bidding, E'Arte gaped at
the emperor.  "You've placed a Final Weapon here?"

The Gherop emperor smiled malevolently.  "The moment your so-called
impregnable prison was revealed to be less than so.  And you want to
guess where it is?"

E'Arte reflexively shook his head.

"Inside your precious prison.  The maximum security level was plenty
deep for it."

"But the planet... There's got to be another way to-"

"You're not seeing the overall picture, E'Arte.  If even one world is
permitted to slip through our fingers, there will be a dozen worlds in
turmoil tomorrow.  But if any rebels are dealt with severely enough,
the others will know not to challenge me."

"But to-"

"It must be done."

"Like this must be done," a youthful voice said from behind T'Do and
he screamed in pain as he fell to his knees then face down on the tile
floor.

---

"Captain, the readings on the Gherop are getting stronger," the
Security officer called out.  "They're just beyond the edge of the
nebula."

"Yellow alert," Janeway commanded.  "Bridge to Engineering.  The ships
are here.  How long until you're done?"

"Maybe twenty minutes, Captain," B'Elanna's voice answered.

"Make it a brief twenty minutes, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Captain."

---

"Talk to me Lpse."

"They're trying to get control of T'Do's shuttle.  I- No!"

"What?"

"I'm listening to their talking in the shuttle.  There's a Final
Weapon on Rachar and it's been deployed."

"What is it?"

"It destroys planets.  I don't know how but it does.

"Any idea where it is?"

"No."

Tom was swearing to himself when an unexpected voice came over his
subdermal communicator.

"Sunfire to Sunbird."

"Sunfire?  Where are you?"

"In orbit.  I'm so glad you're alive. We thought-"

"Where's Voyager?"

"Not here.  What the devil's going on?"

"Armageddon. Tap into this ship's systems and take over controlling
the ships in orbit.  And use your sensors to find some weapon called
the Final Weapon.  Apparently it's powerful enough to destroy a
planet."

"I have the ships and I'm into their database.  The weapon's in the
prison. Maximum security level."

"I placed enhancers down there.  You should be able to beam it out."

"Beaming it out now."

"Part of it did not come," Tuvok's voice said.  "I have a faint signal
matching that of the weapon's alloy. It is descending."

"Descending?" Tom blinked.

"It is burrowing through the planet towards the centre."

"Can you stop it?"

"It is out of range," Harry piped up.  "I can't get a signal lock."

"ETA?"

"Twenty-two minutes, fourteen seconds if it maintains this rate of
descent."

Tom ground his teeth then began snapping out orders.  "Sunfire, lock
onto all the Gherop on those ships and beam them to the surface.  Then
start beaming up the Rachar.  Pack as many as you can onto the ships
then start on the shuttles and yourself.  Lpse, tell the shuttles to
get into orbit.  Tuvok, search the surface for the big battles and
target any Gherop you find.  Terminate with extreme prejudice.  Harry,
find a planet, class M or as close as you can get and plot a course.
Preferably uninhabited."

"You're just going to leave the Gherop here to die?" Harry gasped.

"Yes."

"What about the Doctor and me?" Neelix asked, letting Tom know they
were there and ready to help.

"Neelix, when the Rachar start appearing on the ships they're going to
be confused.  Talk to them over the comm system.  Tell them you speak
for Queen Zjna and we are getting them to safety."

"The Queen's alive?"

"Yes.  Doc, I'm sending you scans of her.  She has some disease.  See
if you can find a cure.  I'll get her to you as soon as I can.  Paris
out."

"What is going on?" Lpse asked.

"We're abandoning Rachar.  Patch me through to home base.  I have to
tell the Queen."

Feeling the pain of losing her home and everything they had fought for
so long to wrest from the Gherop's hands, she nodded and established
the connection.

"Go ahead," Sme's voice answered from the Verta home base.

In as few words as necessary, he outlined what was happening and his
solution.

"We're just abandoning our home?!" Mksa shouted.

"You'd rather die here?  The Rachar have fought all along wanting
their freedom once more.  But I don't think any of you want it through
death.  The Rachar who make it can start again on a new world, far
from the Gherop."

"They'll just come to reclaim us."

"I'll see to it that if they do try, they won't succeed or try it
again.  I give you my word on that."

"It is our only option," Zjna said in a firm voice.  As Tom had
expected, the Queen was right there in the thick of things, deathly
ill or not.  "What can we do, Tom?"

"Nothing.  We'll come to evacuate the base ourselves.  You're down so
far, I doubt Sunfire will be able to beam through all that rock.  Get
everyone to the entrance.  It'll take us a while to get everyone out
that little opening, but-"

"There's another, larger entrance.  Lpse will direct you."

"At least T'Do and E'Arte won't be getting off this world," Sme
approved, though wishing for the deaths of anyone rankled against her
ethics as a physician.

"They're dead by now," Mksa informed her and there was silence over
the commline.

"What do you mean?" the Queen asked.

"When we were planning this counterattack, I sent word to our
informant in E'Arte's circle to assassinate E'Arte and T'Do and
whomever else she could get in their circle."

There was a strangled cry from the Queen and Tom's heart leapt into
his throat, thinking it was her death cry.  Seconds later it became
clear it was not.

"They'll kill her!  They're so much bigger than her.  She's not ready
to kill anyone.  Tom Paris, you must get to the Palace and save her."

"But Your Majesty-" Mksa began to protest.

"She's the future of our people, Tom.  You can't let her be killed."

"Who?" Tom asked.

"My daughter, Zji."

Tom stiffened at the Helm and doubled back towards the Palace.  "I'll
find her, Your Majesty.  Lpse, can you fly?"

The computer technician was shaken to find the heir to the throne was
on such dangerous duty as Verta informant inside E'Arte's circle, but
nodded.

"Good.  Your Majesty, Lpse will bring the shuttle to the base.  I'll
get your daughter.  Paris out."

Tom turned the shuttle back towards the Palace and looked for a place
to land.

"Paris to Sunfire."

"Go ahead."

He outlined his plan for Lpse to take the shuttle and what he was
going to do and why.

"I'll keep a transporter lock on you," Tuvok promised, "and beam you
two up here when you find her."

"Agreed.  Paris out."

The shuttle hovered a metre over the Palace grounds and Tom yielded
his seat to Lpse who waited until he had jumped out the hatch then
flew off to evacuate the base.

---

Open mouthed, E'Arte stared at Zji standing before her, spatters of
golden Gherop blood on her pale blue skin and tunic and all over the
ornate dagger in her hand. "You..." he gasped, stepping backwards and
his hands going behind him on the pretence of feeling for the wall
behind him.

"I am Zji, daughter of Zjna, the rightful leader of this world, and I
have come to retake our throne."

Zji threw the dagger at the same instant his hand whipped out from
behind his back, weapon in hand and fired.  She flew backwards into a
chair, knocking it over and sending her tumbling limply to the floor.
E'Arte jerked the dagger out of his bicep and stared down at T'Do.

---

T'Do's shuttle suddenly came to life and I'Nu sighed in relief at
C'Nar. The other Gherop did not reciprocate the grin.

"I don't know what I did," he admitted then the transporter beam
caught them and deposited them and the others on the shuttle on the
ground as the vessel shot off into the sky. "And I certainly didn't do
that!"

"Voyager's back," I'Nu guessed incorrectly.  "We have to contact them.
We have to tell them we didn't want to do what we did to them, that it
was all E'Arte's doing and convince them to save us.  They might be
able to stop the Final Weapon!"

"They won't help us," C'Nar argued.  "Besides, once the Final Weapon's
deployed, there's no way to stop it."

"Their transporters might be able to get it and beam it out!"

He rushed off into the Palace to find a comm unit.

---

Glancing up from his wrist tricorder, Tom fired at two Gherop who were
taking aim on him.  They tumbled over the railing and down to their
deaths on the ground floor's tiles far below.  Ignoring them, the
pilot rushed further up the stairs in search of the faint life sign
the tricorder projected was Zjna's daughter's.

---

'T'Do is dead,' E'Arte thought to himself.  'That means I'm the next
senior official on Rachar.'  The implications of that fact made him
smile then it faded as he remembered he was senior official on Rachar
which was about to be destroyed.  He had to stop this.  He had to
prevent this from hap-

He never finished that thought.  The blue Rachar male who appeared in
the doorway shot him before he could react.  The Gherop flew back
against he wall, impacting with such force an indentation was left in
the wall, and he was dead.

Tom rushed over to the little girl on the floor and ran his tricorder
over her.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"Your mother sent me, Zji."

She smiled softly then her eyes closed for the last time.

He drew a shaky breath and his head fell forwards in defeat.

---

"Damned Verta.  Damned Rachar.  Damned Voyager.  Damned everything."
I'Nu was swearing as he strode down the hall.  He had not wanted to
come to this horrible planet in the first place.  When he had
graduated from his clerk's course, it had been with dreams of clerking
on the Homeworld, not on some horrible outpost where he was liable to
be killed, either by the rebels or by his own superior.

And now he was going to die here.

None of the shuttles and ships were responding to hails.  He had sent
out pleas to all of the Gherop ships in the area to come to Rachar
immediately, but he knew they would arrive too late to save them.
There was no way to stop the Final Weapon now that had been activated.
C'Nar had been right about Voyager not wanting to help them for she
was not answering his hails and the Verta appeared to have damaged the
planetary sensors because they were telling him Voyager was not even
in orbit.  He was trapped, just waiting to die, but he was determined
there were two who were not going to be waiting with him.

He stormed into the Royal Suite, still not sure if it were T'Do or
E'Arte he was going to kill first with his bare hands when he saw both
of them sprawled on the floor already dead. Shaking with rage at
having been denied his vengeance, he turned his head slightly and saw
a blue Rachar male squatting next to the body of Zji.  Determined
someone was going to pay for his impending death, I'Nu grabbed the
dagger out of T'Do's back.

---

A tear ran down Tom's face.  He had failed Zjna.  He had promised to
get her daughter to safety and now she was dead because he had arrived
too late.  Tom closed her eyes and stood, just as he sensed motion
behind him.  He whirled around, phaser pistol up to fire and felt a
white hot pain as it searing through his chest.  Stumbling back a
step, he tripped over the body of Zji and went sprawling as his
attacker merely stared at him in the same stunned fashion Tom was
staring at him.  The old hand at assassinations recognized the
unmistakable look in the Gherop's eyes - first blood.

The first time someone took a life or tried to a look came into their
eyes as the enormity of crossing the line to becoming a killer hit
them.  This was happening to I'Nu now.  In the past, he had passed on
E'Arte's orders to have people executed but he never had done the deed
personally. Until now.  The horror of seeing bright red blood gushing
out of a living creature and knowing he was responsible for it was
beyond his mind's ability to process.  He lapsed into a state of
catatonia so deep even his victim's unexpected disappearance could not
dispel.

---

For Nozawa in Transporter Room Two, this was becoming old hat.  A call
came in from Vorik in Engineering asking for an immediate transport of
Lieutenant Torres to Sickbay, which he did and began to wonder when
someone would clue in and just keep her in there until Paris was back
aboard, alive or otherwise.  Though his classes at the Academy had
indicated otherwise, there was a limit to the number of times any one
person could be transported before some sort of cellular damage was
caused.

Shaking his head, he went back to his diagnostic.

---

Chakotay saw the notation appear on the console between his and the
Captain's chairs and quickly filed it away and closed down the
console.  They had enough problems right now without Kathryn finding
out something had happened to Tom again.  Quickly standing, he mounted
the stairs to join her at the Tactical.

"How close are they?" she was asking Ayala.

"They're just entering the nebula," he responded in the gentle voice
that was incongruous with his large size.

"What if we shut down all but the basic systems?" Chakotay suggested.
"Make it more difficult for them to pick up our signature?"

Janeway nodded.  "That might-"

"They're leaving," Ayala interrupted.

The two senior officers checked the console.  Sure enough the Gherop
ships were withdrawing from the nebula.

"Do a sensor sweep," the Captain ordered.  "I want to know why they
left."

"Aye, Captain."

---

"Lie still!" the EMH ordered the instant his patient appeared.
Immediately, he began cutting the tunic from Tom so he could access
the wound.

"How many are left?" Tom whispered, seemingly feeling no pain as the
Doctor removed the knife.

"Only nicked your lung.  Good.  What do you mean how many?"

"Rachar.  How many are left on the surface?"

"Too many," Sunfire told him.

"How much room do we have left on the ships?"

"Including the short range shuttles, and me enough for slightly over
another five hundred, if it's standing room only."

"Then pack them in and hold some of them in the pattern buffers.  How
long until the planet goes?"

"Less than four minutes," she said, answering his next question before
he could ask it.

Swallowing, Tom gave the most difficult order he ever had given.  "Get
as many more as you can to the ships then get us out of here."  'We'll
have to leave the others behind,' was the unspoken conclusion to the
order.

---

"Get the others on the shuttle," Zjna commanded.

"But, Your Majesty-" Sme tried to object.

"Now!"

Unwillingly the others hurried onto the shuttle and got as many of
them inside as they could starting with the few children who had been
at the base.  When the hatch closed there still were a thirty-three
left outside as it took off for orbit.

"Your Majesty," Mksa began, staring down at the dirt beneath his feet,
"I-"

Magnanimously, the Queen laid a hand on his arm and he looked at it
then into her eyes.  "There was no way you could know Zji was my
daughter, Mksa.  Plwa, Sme, and I worked very hard to keep her
identity a secret from everyone so she was safe.  When the opportunity
arose for us to plant one of our own people in next to E'Arte, Zji
volunteered before I could stop her."  She sighed.  "How could I
refuse to permit my child to do something that was so dangerous and
then ask another child's parent to do what I refused to.  So Zji went.
But Tom will get her out.  I know he will.  That one keeps his
promises when he makes them.  I know he does."

As she began to sway and her eyelids lowered, he caught her in his
arms.  He sent a look to Sme who only sadly shook her head.  Then the
transporter beam caught them and they were beamed aboard a ship with
amber interior - minus Zjna's body.

---

"That's all we can hold," Sunfire said, sadly.

The Rachar who were standing in the Sickbay with Tom and the Doctor
looked at Tom confused.  He ignored them.

"Get us out of here then," he whispered.

"Aye, sir."

Sunfire and her convoy streaked away from the planet, leaving behind
thousands of Rachar and hundreds of their Gherop masters who all died
when the planet began to boil and shatter a minute later.

---

"I want to know what's going on with me and I want to know now!"
B'Elanna yelled at Sam who was pretending she was not intimidated by
the angry half-Klingon.

"I know this is frustrating for you, B'Elanna," she said in her most
soothing voice, "but when the Doctor gets back-"

B'Elanna was not in the mood for soothing.  "I want to know now," she
growled.

"That's enough, Lieutenant," Chakotay's voice barked from the doorway.

Both women looked at the First Officer - one gratefully, one
mutinously.

"You can go about your business, Ensign," he told Sam and she left the
patient to him with all haste. "B'Elanna, you are going to have to
wait until-"

"I'm tired of waiting!  There's something wrong with me and everyone
seems to know it but me!  It's my body.  I want to know what's wrong
with it and I want to know now!"

Chakotay thought it over for a long moment, weighing the pros versus
the cons in telling her the truth. On the pro side, she would have
some peace of mind knowing what was happening to her.  On the cons,
knowing there was a likely probability that whatever was happening to
Tom was the cause might make her even angrier.  She was irate enough
as it was.  Hearing Tom was hurt some where far from their position
hardly would calm her down, especially not in light of what Harry had
confided in him about her softening in her stance regarding the
missing man.  They had not even told B'Elanna yet of the cave-in and
their suspicions he might or might not be dead for the very reason
they did not want to upset her needlessly.

Making up his mind, he sighed and sat next to her on the biobed.
Gently, he took her small hand in his large one and looked down at it.
"The Doctor didn't want you told this because he was worried you
knowing about it would contaminate the results of the investigation."

"What investigation?" she asked suspiciously.

"You remember when you fell ill, because of Raven and his hormones?"

"Yes."

"And Tom... did what he did to save you."

She nodded.

"Well, the Doctor thinks that there was some sort of mutation."

"Mutation?  What mutation?  Of me?  But I-"

"Of your... bond to Tom."

She blinked rapidly.  "I don't-"

"He thinks what's happening to you is called shared pain.  Something
happens to one partner and the other feels it."

"But if that were true..." Her eyes widened as she began to comprehend
the implication of the Doctor's theory.  "Tom's hurt?"  She leapt off
of the biobed.  "We have to get to him.  We have to-"

"B'Elanna!"  Chakotay gently clasped her upper arms.  "That's why
Sunfire left with Tuvok, Harry, Neelix, and the Doctor.  They're going
to get him."

"Get him?  What do you mean, 'get him'?  But I thought he was on
Sunfire and they were investigating something.  Where is he?"

"What they're investigating is what may have happened to Tom.  On
Rachar."

"I don't understand."

"Whether or not I killed him," Janeway said sadly from the doorway.

"Kathryn," Chakotay admonished, not wanting her to start that guilt
trip all over again.

"What?" B'Elanna gasped, eyes wide.

"We were coming out a tunnel.  I caused a cave-in and I may have
killed him."

"Kathryn, we've been through this.  It is ready to collapse all on its
own. You did not-"

"What did you do?" Tom's mate growled in a low voice filled with fury.

"I was laughing at one of his stories and brushed up against the wall
of a narrow opening and there was a cave-in.  Then I left him there."
Tears began running down her cheeks. "I swear to you, I thought he was
dead.  He wasn't moving.  I couldn't hear him breathing.  There were
these rocks between him and me. And I could hear fluid building up in
his lungs.  It wasn't until the Doctor suggested he might merely have
been unconscious, not dead that Sunfire went back for him."

"If he dies..." B'Elanna left the threat open ended, though the
meaning was clear and Chakotay picked up on it.

"No one is going to kill anyone," he insisted.  "You are going to get
into your uniform, Lieutenant, and get down to Engineering to check on
your department's progress.  And you, Kathryn, are going to come with
me."

He shot a glance at Sam who stood in the doorway to the office.  The
woman seemed to pick up on his tacit order and came out to help
B'Elanna as he escorted the Captain out.

"Do you have a death wish?" he hissed at the woman whose arm he held
so tightly she probably would be bruised the next day.  "You knew
she'd go ballistic once she knew.  I thought we all agreed not to tell
her the particulars of this until after he was back with us, alive and
well, or never if he didn't come back that way?"

"But she's right to-"

He pulled her into the turbolift with him, calling out his deck
number. "Kathryn, you have to snap out of this.  When he's brought
home, safe and alive, maybe then you'll see it wasn't all your fault."

"But some of it was."

"Yes, perhaps, but not *all*.  Stop taking all the blame.  That tunnel
deserves the lion's share.  And the Gherop, they earned a lot too for
placing us in the position that he had to come rescue us.  So stop
trying to take all the credit for this mess," he tried to joke.

It fell flat and he tugged her out of the lift.  Another night like
the one before clearly was in order.  He only hoped he could continue
to restrain his baser instincts while he sat up with her all night on
his couch, holding her and letting her cry through her pain.

---

The next two days were Hell for everyone on board Voyager - whether
they were worried about the rescuers or the potential rescuee or none
of the above.

Now that she knew everything that was going on, B'Elanna was like a
caged targ, snapping at everyone she met, except the Captain at whom
she only glared with the promise of retribution if things did not turn
out well.  Only the calm insistence of Chakotay kept B'Elanna from
committing a solo mutiny and taking Voyager to Rachar to rescue Tom
and the rescuers.  He continually had to remind her that the plan was
for Sunfire to rendezvous with them in the nebula and if they left
they might miss them if the other ship had to take a different route
to get back to them.

Naomi unfortunately had overheard some crewmembers talking about their
situation and now knew her godfather and beloved Tom were in peril and
could not be comforted.

Seven, too, seemed abnormally distracted though any who noticed it
were discounting it to some weird effect of the nebula or the yatelite
she was helping refine or something. Certainly none guessed the truth
that she was concerned about the safety of not only Lieutenant Paris,
but about that of Ensign Kim.  The only one who might have guessed the
truth was the Captain and she was having her own problems.

In public, Kathryn was wearing her brave face and pretending she had
all confidence Sunfire and the rescuers would return home, a little
late, but safe and sound and very soon, despite their lack of contact
with them since they had received the warning from them.  In private,
she continued to wallow in self-pity and Chakotay's comforting
embrace.  She was in mid-wallow in her Ready Room and all but seated
in his lap when word came that Sunfire and a Gherop ship were
approaching the nebula and hailing them.

"It's Commander Tuvok," the officer at Ops was saying.

The Captain frowned.  "With a Gherop ship in tow?"

"Yes.  Apparently the Rachar are in command of it now.  All of the
codes check out.  It is Sunfire and it is him."

"On screen."

Tuvok appeared on the main viewer with a sombre Neelix and Harry in
the main viewer.  The Doctor and Tom were nowhere in sight and
Chakotay placed a hand on the centre of the Captain's back as she
began to sway.

"Tom..." she whispered.

"Is on the Gherop ship with the Doctor at the moment, Captain," Tuvok
explained.

Chakotay felt the tension melt away from the back under his hand and
he worried more than ever that her knees would give out on her as the
relief coursed through her.  As usual, she surprised him and found
some strength from somewhere and continued on.

"So, then everything went well?"

"Not exactly, Captain.  Rachar has been destroyed.  We were able to
take control of the Gherop vessels and evacuate twenty-seven thousand,
nine hundred and fifty-eight Rachar. The others and the Gherop are
dead.  Mr. Paris and the representatives of the Rachar would like to
speak with you in the Conference Room at the earliest convenience."

She nodded and her smile was eager yet sad at the same time.

"I'll inform Mr. Paris.  Sunfire out."

"Take us out of the nebula, Mr. Baytart."

"Aye, Captain," he said happily.

"You okay," Chakotay whispered to her as the swirling colours on the
screen resolved themselves into a star pattern as they moved back out
into open space.

Grey eyes met his and he had his answer.  No, she was not.  The time
had come to face the music.  She had what she had both prayed for and
dreaded.  Tom was back and now she had to face him and her own
conscience.  Resolutely, she drew away from his hand and walked
towards the Conference Room.

---

It did not take one of Tom's powers of observation to see the Captain
was uncomfortable with his reappearance.  She sat silently at the head
of the Conference Room table where she and Chakotay sat with the four
rescuers and listened as Tom introduced Sme and Mksa and briefly
explained what had happened on Rachar after Voyager and Sunfire had
left.  Frankly, he had not known what he was expecting from her, but
he had hoped there might have been at least a touch of relief at
seeing he was alive.  The Doctor had told him, before he had begun to
suspect Tom might still be alive, everyone had thought him dead and
even had been planning his wake.  That he could understand, given the
circumstances, but still, even a smile at seeing him would have been
nice.

"So," he continued in an emotionless voice worthy of Tuvok sitting
between himself and Janeway and across from Chakotay, "the convoy went
to a large, uninhabited moon a few hours from where Rachar had been
and disembarked.  There is evidence of an abandoned civilization there
and the planet New Rachar orbits but no indications of any other
claimants to the system.  There is a silicon-based lifeform evolving
on one of the planets closer to the suns, but it will be a few million
years before it's ready to complain about anyone else living near
them."

He slid a padd towards the Captain.  "What the Rachar need now is
what's listed there.  First of all, the indigenous food is suitable
for their ingestion, but there are certain things that are necessary
to the Rachar diet that aren't available on New Rachar or any of the
other worlds in the system as far as we've been able to detect.
According to some Rachar who were in the know, E'Arte sent Voyager the
food you requested along with all but a few of the Engineering
supplies so you'd think he was dealing straight with you.  We'd like
to take enough samples from the food from Rachar so we can start
growing the foods need to supplement the foods already growing on New
Rachar and replicators be used to make up for the short fall until the
crop comes in."

"That would be against the Prime Directive," Chakotay interjected.
"Giving them technology-"

"This ship has overlooked that fact in the past when it deemed it
necessary. I'm asking that this be considered one of those times."

Chakotay gave Janeway a look and he nodded, seeming to understand the
message in her eyes.  "We'll table that for the moment.  There was
more the Rachar need?"

"Medical supplies and clothing but the replicators could supply those.
Also they could use help in establishing defences and living spaces.
The homes of the former inhabitants are fine, but have been abandoned
for some time and need much structural work."  He made an expansive
gesture with hands that now were their proper colour and not that of
the blue sweater and blue jeans he wore once more.  "They need pretty
much everything you'd need to settle a new world.  There wasn't any
time or space to take anything more than them."

"We'll discuss this," Janeway finally said, padd in hand.  Commander
Tuvok can show you to quarters where you can wait until we've reached
our decision."

The two Rachar shot Tom a look and he nodded reassuringly.  He had
warned them about the dilemma of the Prime Directive but they still
were worried their appeal would be rejected.  The Rachar had had very
little satisfaction with authority in the past few years since the
Gherop usurpation and they logically were very concerned at the delay.
The look from Tom reassured them slightly.

Tuvok rose and the two Rachar followed him out.

"Are you feeling that pain again?" the EMH asked Tom as he noticed him
press a hand against his chest.

"Yeah," Tom nodded, eyes scrunched up in pain as everyone now looked
at him. Suddenly, he began to relax and breathe normally.

"I want you in Sickbay now," he insisted, rising.

"But-"

"I'm sure they can debate the ramifications of breaking the Prime
Directive without you.  This is the fourth time I've seen you have
this trouble and I doubt that's been the only times you've experienced
it.  I want you in Sickbay where I can check you out.  Now let's go."

Reluctantly, Tom left with him, not knowing the Captain immediately
had stiffened at seeing him in pain and got to her feet the moment he
had.  He also did not know she indecisively stood there, not knowing
whether she wanted to go with them or stay.

Finally, Chakotay reached out and caught her hand in a public display
of intimacy that surprised both her and Neelix.

Harry never even noticed.

---

"What does it take to kill this guy?" Ver Faran was grumbling to Geron
Tem in the turbolift half an hour after the three ships had
rendezvoused.

"I don't know," Geron shrugged, "I heard the Doctor ushered him to
Sickbay after the meeting with the Rachar."

"Hurt yet again.  A hero, yet again."

Geron gave him a look.  "You really hate him, don't you?"

"Don't you?  After what he did to Megan?"

The younger of the two Bajorans looked away.  "The man's lied, killed,
you name it, he's done it. Frankly, I don't see how anyone cannot hate
him."

The turbolift doors opened just then and Geron strode out and towards
to Sickbay to have his pinched fingers seen to.

He did not know what to think about what Ver had just said.  It was
nothing he himself had not thought from time to time. And the part
about whatever the guy had done to Megan, that had part was dead on.
He still did not know what he had said to Megan to make her cry, but
once Paris was out of Sickbay, he meant to find out.  Maybe then he
and Megan could find their way passed whatever had happened and they
could get back together.  He had missed her terribly since she had
begun avoiding him because he kept trying to find out what had
happened between her and Paris.

"So he'll be okay, right?" Geron heard Megan asking the EMH when he
entered Sickbay.

"Yes, now that I've properly healed all of his injuries.  After a few
hours' rest he should be fine."

"Can you call me when he wakes up?  I'd like to see him."

"Of course."

After smiling her thanks, she leaned down to kiss Tom's high forehead
prior to leaving Sickbay.

Neither even noticed Geron, who had been quietly fuming in the other
doorway, turn on his heel and leave the way he had come.


---


"I am sorry," the Captain concluded to the Rachar whom Tuvok had
escorted to her Ready Room where she and Chakotay waited.

People who had experienced many disappointments in their lives, they
took hearing the Captain could find no way around the Prime Directive
to give them replicators with an attempt at stoic acceptance.  Sme was
better at it than the hot-tempered Mksa, but she kept him in line as
best she could.

"These vitamin tablets that your doctor has created," the physician
began, "how potent and how many could you supply?"

"He says they should be taken once a day and there should be enough to
last all of your people a year."

"That should give our crops a chance to grow and our bodies become
acclimatized to the new foods."

"But-" Mksa tried to interrupt.

"Tom warned us there was this possibility, Mksa," Sme reminded him.
"We'll have to just learn how to survive with what they are able to
provide for us and with what we have on New Rachar."

Reluctantly, he nodded to his elder.

"Thank you, Captain.  You have been most kind."

"I'm sorry it's not allowed to be more," Janeway repeated, standing.
"The other items will be ready to beam to your ship within the hour."

"Good.  I would like to get back to New Rachar.  And we would like to
see Tom before we go too."

The Captain paused.

"I'll show you to Sickbay," Chakotay offered, saving her the need to
see Tom before she was ready.  She had confided in him she could not
stomach seeing him in there, that she wanted to wait until he was out
and feeling better before she saw him again and he quite agreed with
her.  With a nod, he escorted their guests out.

"We truly are sorry," he reiterated after a moment's silence in the
turbolift.

Sme patted his arm.  "We know, Commander.  Rules are made and put in
place for a reason.  We will survive.  If we can survive so long under
the Gherop, we can rough it as Tom called it for a while on New
Rachar."

He smiled and nodded and they fell silent again until they reached
Sickbay.

"How is he, Doctor?" Sme asked her colleague.

"Resting comfortably," the EMH approved.  "Should be waking up soon."

Smiling down at him, she brushed the unruly locks of blonde hair from
his face.  "This one needs his rest.  He's more than earned it."
Withdrawing her hand, she stepped back and looked expectantly at the
Doctor.

"We have an hour to wait for our supplies to be ready and you and I
still have not finished our discussion."

"Yes, come to my office and I'll show you what I meant."

Chakotay, left alone with Mksa, was about to ask the Rachar a question
when Mksa walked closer to Tom's bedside, slowly laid a hand in the
middle of Tom's torso, and bowed his head.  Seeing he was not going to
have any sort of conversation with this one, Chakotay went into the
office.

Sme held up a hand to halt the Doctor's explanation for a moment and
looked at Chakotay.  "An old Rachar custom," she explained.  "When one
has wronged another, the one who did the wrong asks forgiveness from
the heart of the other," she said, laying her hand over the middle of
her torso where the Rachar heart lay as she said the word "heart."
"Mksa distrusted Tom. Probably a sensible precaution, but now he feels
guilty because Tom is a big reason for our people being free from the
Gherop and so many lives having been saved."  She sighed, thinking of
the horrible fact he blamed himself for Zji's death. "Mksa feels
guilty for many things.  "But now he will not feel guilty about how he
treated Tom.  He will be there for a while.  Perhaps, if you have
things you need to do, you could come back for us when everything is
ready to transport to our ship?"

"Fine.  I'll see you in an hour."

---

Word of Tom's return quickly had travelled throughout the ship and had
B'Elanna not been stuck with Nicoletti in a Jefferies tube, she would
have known this and rushed to his side.  However, everyone thought
everyone else had told her already so no one contacted her to make
sure she did know and out of sight was out of mind and they quickly
became absorbed in their work of assembling supplies for the Rachar,
forgetting all about her.

After he had been back for two hours and the Rachar gone for almost
fifteen minutes, she and Nicoletti reappeared in Engineering, covered
in gel thanks to a slip of B'Elanna's hydrospanner when she had
experienced chest pains hours earlier.  The gel pack, around which
they had been trying to make delicate repairs, had blown, covering
both women in gel.  At the time, neither woman put two and two
together to realize it was Tom's pains she was feeling.  Instead, she
cursed overwork for the pain and then the gel pack for being so
fragile and sent the other woman scurrying off for another pack while
she continued with the repairs.  Due to the urgency of the repair and
the temper of her superior, Nicoletti literally had run through the
corridors to and from the gel pack storage unit and no one had stopped
the sticky woman to gossip about the triumphant return of the rescue
party.  So as it was, there was over a two hour delay between his
return and their resurfacing in Engineering.

The engineers were about to ask Sue why the Chief was with her and not
Paris when another problem reared its ugly head and the chaos began
all over again.

Another three hours past before that was settled and someone finally
remembered there was something they all had wanted to tell the Chief.
Vorik was the one who was elected to do the honours for no other
reason than he was a Vulcan probably could hold his own in a fight
with the half-Klingon.  None of those who had been present on Sakari
ever had spoken about what had happened there so no one in Engineering
knew she could *beat* him in a fight.  Still, he went.

"Lieutenant?"

"If it's another problem, Vorik," growled the woman who still had not
found the time to clean up herself or change out of her uniform
covered with dried gel, "I swear I'll-"

"Sunfire has returned."

She whirled around to face him.

"About five hours ago now."

"Why wasn't I told?!" she demanded, shoving passed him.  "Computer,
location of Tom Paris."

"Tom Paris is in Sickbay."

B'Elanna raced out of Engineering, forgetting everything as she ran to
Tom.

---

"Lieutenant, I'm no fashion critic, but I must tell you the gel really
does nothing for your skin tone.  May I suggest something in a deep
red?"

B'Elanna ignored the EMH and rushed to Tom's bedside.  The man she had
wanted so desperately to see was sound asleep.

"I had to perform some additional surgery, Lieutenant," he said,
coming to stand beside her.  "He'll be fine now, but I gave him a
sedative so he'll sleep for a while.  He's had some major injuries
over the past week and he needs to recuperate.  Why don't you go to
your quarters and shower and change and maybe he'll be awake when you
come back."

She shot a glance first at him then at her gel encrusted self.

"Besides, knowing you two, I'll probably have to be prying you two
apart with a tritanium bar once he wakes up," he smirked, "and, though
I've heard him comment about 'eau de plasma coolant', I don't know how
he'd feel about gel."

Normally, she would have glared at him for that veiled remark about
her and Tom's difficulty in keeping their hands to themselves at
times.  This time she only smiled softly to herself as she leaned over
to give Tom a brief kiss and caress of a gel covered hand over his
stubbled cheek then left.

"Better charge up the osteogenic stimulator while I'm at it," he
muttered to himself, taking a corner of the blanket covering Tom and
wiping the flakes of gel from the man's cheek.

---

"Hey, Starfleet.  I'm so happy to see you."

A sleepy Harry briefly snapped out of his funk as a warm, slightly
sticky, and funny smelling body enveloped him in a big hug.
Automatically, his arms went around his hugger so they did not fall
over.  He blinked furiously a few times then realized who it was.
"B'Elanna?"

"Harry, you brought him back to me.  I don't know how to thank you,"
she told him, pulling back slightly then hugging him again.

"Who?" he asked, his mind not working as it should.

She pulled back a bit and frowned at him.  "Tom.  Who else?  What's
wrong with you?"

"I..."

Her smile faded a bit as she picked up on his mood.  "Something bad
happened, didn't it?"

He nodded.

"You want to talk about it?"

He thought for a moment then nodded again.

"How about your quarters?  They're closer."

---

Tom opened his eyes to see the Doctor checking his vitals.  "Hey."

"'Hey' yourself, Mr. Paris.  How do you feel?"

"Better.  Thank you."  He pushed himself up to a sitting position.  "I
need to go see if the Captain's made her decision about the Rachar
and-"

"She already did, about four and a half hours ago."

"What?  What did she say?" he asked slowly, guessing from the look on
the EMH's face that he was not going to like what he heard.

"She said no to breaking the Prime Directive.  They took it quite
well. Took what the Captain was allowed to give them without breaking
any rules and left for New Rachar."

"I have to get dressed," Tom insisted, heading for the stack of
clothes nearby and beginning to yank them on.

"But you need to rest.  And both Ensign Delaney and Lieutenant Torres
wish to see you."

"I'll go see Megan on my way to see the Captain."

"What about Lieutenant Torres?"

Tom pulled his sweater on over his head as he went for the door
without a word of response made.

---

"What happened, Harry?" asked B'Elanna, sitting in one corner of the
couch in his quarters.

Harry sighed heavily then told her about everything that had happened.

When Tom had confirmed he was leaving the Gherop behind to die, Harry
had gone numb.  He was not sure how he should feel about Tom's
decision.  Part of him felt no sympathy for the Gherop because of what
they had done to him and tried to do to Voyager and her crew.  The
other part of him was angry with the first part because these were
people they were talking about and how would he feel if he were in
their position.  He was so glad Sunfire was the one who had done the
targeting for the transporters because he knew there was no way he
could have chosen who went and who stayed.

But Tom and Sunfire had not seemed to have any such qualms.  Both of
them were detached and cool about the entire situation.  At no time
during the flight to the moon he had found for the Rachar or the time
spent on the Eden that was New Rachar had either ship or man expressed
any regret at all and that made him wonder.  He had thought he knew
Tom Paris, but after seeing this Tom Paris he did not think he knew
him at all.

B'Elanna was silent for a long time.  "I don't know what to say to
you, Harry," she at last admitted.  "I understand your feelings - I
share them - but I also understand their behaviour too.  In the
Maquis... sometimes we had to make hard choices like what Tom and
Sunfire did.  Thank Kahless, I've never had to make the same decision
as they did.  I know... knew some who had to though and I was like
you.  I couldn't understand how they could do it.  How could they just
leave so many behind?  How could they fairly choose who was saved and
who wasn't?  You know what they told me? When you're in that sort of
situation, with all those people counting on you, you have two
choices: act immediately or think about acting, in which case you
might as well just leave."

He frowned at her uncomprehendingly.  "Just abandon them?"

"What they meant was, if you start searching for a way to save all,
that you'll not be able to save any because you've wasted so much time
thinking.  But if you just act, you at least can save a few.  It's not
a perfect solution, but there are almost thirty thousand people who
would not have be in the Universe right not if it weren't for those
two being able to make that hard choice and act."

"But the Gherop-"

"Harry, I won't debate with you about the value of one life over
another or one species over another.  I don't know if I would have
done or been able to do what Tom did and tell Sunfire to take only
Rachar or both species or what.  What's done is done."

He rubbed his hands over his face then let them fall.  Suddenly his
face creased into a grin.  "You know I've been trying to figure out
what the weird smell was..."

Looking down at herself, she joined him in his laughter.  "Oh, yeah,
take a look at yourself, Starfleet."

He stripped off his gel flaked jacket.  "Thanks a lot, Maquis."

"Can I use your shower?  I can't believe I wandered around the
corridors like this."

"Sure, go ahead.  There's a robe on the bed.  Hand me out your clothes
and I'll clean them."

---

As Tom strode down the corridor towards Megan's quarters, he saw no
one and was grateful for that. He had enough on his mind, thinking
about what B'Elanna might want from him, to have to deal with anyone
else.  What Megan probably wanted was simple.  She was not an idiot
and she did know him, reasonably well.  Not as well as Harry or
B'Elanna, but well enough to have seen through his tactics and realize
why he had said what he had said all those days ago now.  Felt like a
lifetime ago to him now.

He stopped in front of Megan's door, took a deep breath then reached
for the announcer.

"Oh, no you don't," Geron hissed from behind him before he could press
the button.

Frowning, Tom turned to the younger man.

"She may be all confused by what's happened lately, but I'm not going
to let you hurt her again.  Not like you did before this whole Rachar
episode started."

Too tired to keep up the pretence anymore, Tom surrendered and told
Geron the truth about why he had done what he had done.  "You can't be
this blind, Tem," Tom said in an even tone.

"Blind?" Geron sputtered in disbelief.

"Couldn't you see how the others were treating her?  As long as she
kept being my friend and defender she was in danger of being treated
the same way I was being treated - like a pariah.  Megan doesn't
deserve that and she couldn't survive it.  She's too gregarious.  So I
made sure she would stay away.  I knew I had to be hard on her to get
her to go, but I also knew you'd be there to help her passed whatever
pain I had to inflict to chase her off."

The Bajoran blinked in surprise.

"It was the only way to keep her safe, Tem.  Eventually, someone's
temper is going to boil over and they'll go after me and anyone
misguided enough to be standing by me."

Geron felt himself caving into the earnestness in Tom's voice.  He
even almost reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm. Almost,
though not quite.  He realized what he was going to do and hardened
his heart towards the man who after seeing Megan kiss him in Sickbay
now viewed as his competitor for the affections of the woman he loved.

"So did you try this with Torres and Kim, too?"

"I didn't have to."

He shook his head.  "Of course not.  They know what you're really
like, don't they?"

'I thought they did,' thought Tom and he almost missed the words Geron
was muttering to himself.

"Always thought they were better off together.  Too bad Jenny and
Nozawa weren't right about what they saw on Dartin VIII."

Tom frowned.  "What are you talking about?  What did Jenny and Nozawa
see?"

Briefly, Geron considered not telling him.  Then he did - smugly.
"Months ago, when we were at Dartin VIII, Jenny and Nozawa went down
to the surface together on shoreleave. They saw Kim and Torres having
a picnic together."

"So?"

"So they also saw them necking."

As expected, Tom did not immediately believe it.  "You're making this
up."

"It was when you and Tuvok went off mountain climbing and got hurt.
Torres and Kim went on shoreleave together and things apparently
heated up between them.  Not surprising really.  Everyone pretty much
always figured they'd end up to together anyway.  They're so well
suited to one another.  Same interests and all.  And he's a good
counterpoint to her temper.  Everyone figured his calm would rub off
on her.  She might give him a bit more of a backbone."

Even as he shook his head in denial of Geron's words, Tom blanched.
"You're lying."

"Tem to Jenny Delaney," he called after tapping his combadge.

"Jenny here," the woman answered.

"Where are you?"

"The gym.  Why?"

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"This is going to sound strange, but you remember back on Dartin VIII?
What you and Nozawa saw in the park?"

"Yes...?" she slowly drawled.

"Tell me again what you saw?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me," he insisted, eyes never leaving Tom's face.  "I'll
explain later."

"We were walking through the park when we found a bench on the hill
overlooking the lake.  After we sat there for a while, we recognized
the two people finishing up a picnic under a tree closer to the lake
were Torres and Kim.  Nozawa had just finished saying he wanted to go
speak to Torres about something when they started kissing."

Tom's jaw tightened so firmly it was amazing his teeth did not crack.
Geron became even more smug, were that possible.

"We were so shocked," Jenny continued, "we couldn't even speak or move
until you and Meg showed up after Torres and Kim beamed back up to the
ship."

"Thanks, Jenny."

"Geron, what's-"

His tapping his combadge cut her off.

Tom's blue eyes became chips of deep space ice.  "I know you two
despise me for what I did to Megan, but I've explained my reasons for
scaring her into avoiding me.  If you two start spreading unfounded
rumours like this-"

"It's no *unfounded* rumour, Paris.  Want me to call Nozawa for his
version? He was rather speechless at the time, but I'm sure he's
recovered by now."  Geron leaned closer.  "Or why don't you just go
ask Kim or Torres?"

Tom shook his head disdainfully and left.

---

As much as he would hate to admit it to anyone, Tom *had* been rattled
by Geron's words. So rattled, he forgot about going to see the Captain
or talking to Megan and went straight to Harry's.  He debated pressing
the chime and looking the fool when he explained the reason for his
visit.  Harry had stopped glaring at him, but now he had trouble
looking at him at all after Rachar. How was he going to say - "Pardon
me, Harry, but did you kiss my girlfriend - back when she still was my
girlfriend?"

Of course maybe fighting a common enemy - namely Geron and Jenny's
rumours would bring him and Harry closer together again, he thought.
He missed having his best friend to hang out with and talk to.

With this in mind, Tom pressed the chime.

When Harry answered the door, he was clad in the shorts Tom knew, from
years of waking his friend at all hours to go play on the Holodeck,
Harry only wore to bed.  His tousled hair and heavy lidded eyes
bespoke of a distinct lack of sleep.

"Harry-"

Tom stopped dead.  Over Harry's shoulder he could see B'Elanna Torres
shimmying into her grey turtleneck.  She too looked as though she had
not slept much, if at all, the night before.  Tom recognized the look;
he had seen it many a morning after they had spent the night together.
He swore had it not been for the blood rushing in his ears he would
have heard his heart shatter as it hit the carpeted deck.

"What?" Harry yawned, barely aware of who was at his door.  Four days
of little or no sleep finally had caught up to him and he was not at
his most lucid.

Mouth reflexively opening and closing, Tom took a stumbling step
backwards then was off down the corridor at a brisk pace.

As the door closed, Harry tiredly yawned at it.  "What was that all
about?"

"What 'what' was all about?" B'Elanna asked, finger combing her hair,
still damp from her water shower. "Who was -" She broke off to yawn
herself.  "Stop yawning, Harry.  You know it's contagious."

"Sorry," he mumbled, stumbling over to flop on his couch.  "I'm just
so tired."

"Then go to bed, Ensign, or do I have to tuck you in with your teddy
bear?"

"Don't start a rumour I sleep with a Teddy or I'll never live it
down."

Smiling, she nodded sympathetically, zipping up her uniform jacket. "I
guess now that I'm dressed again-" She checked herself.  "I am, aren't
I?"

Harry propped open one eyelid for a split second's look.  "Boots on?'

"Yeah."

"What you're wearing feels uncomfortable?"

"Same as always."

The eyelid was permitted to fall once more.  "Then you're all dressed
again. I don't know who designed Starfleet uniforms, but they clearly
don't wear them themselves."

"Good night, Harry," she called as she left.  "I'm going to go check
on Engineering then on Tom and get some sleep if he's not awake yet."

Harry did not answer.  He already was asleep.

---

Without a functioning mind to dictate its destination, Tom's body took
him to his Voyager quarters.  For him to retreat to his now preferred
quarters on Sunfire, it would have taken his requesting a beam out,
meaning his numb mind would have had to form some semblance of a
coherent thought.  This was beyond him right now.

Later, he would not know how long he had sat on his couch and would
not have cared if he had.  All he did know was at some point, he rose,
went to his desk where he programmed two very different messages into
the two blank padds he had removed from a drawer then placed a few
items in a case and exited his quarters.

---

"-Then go get some sleep, Joe, but let's get it over with."

B'Elanna's sighed words were the first things Tom heard when he
entered a chaotic Engineering.  It took him a moment to find the woman
on the far side of the warp core, squatting down next to her second to
peer into an open panel.  Taking a breath, he walked over to them.

"B'Elanna?"

Not registering who was talking to her, she made a distracted
acknowledgement of her name.

"I... Here."  He offered her one of the padds in his hand.

Without even looking at the message, she set it aside as sparks
showered out of another panel a few metres away.

In the ensuing chaotic bustle of people attempting to extinguish the
small fire, no one noticed Tom leave.

---

Sam caught her breath and flushed as the door opened.  Tom Paris stood
there with a bag slung over one shoulder.  She did not know it, but it
was the same Starfleet issue case with which he had boarded Voyager
five years previous, and it was almost as empty as it had been then.

"Lieutenant, I... uh...."

"I'll only trouble you a moment, Ensign, then I'll be gone.  I just
wanted to see Naomi for a moment."

"She's in bed," she mother objected rather quickly.  "It's her
naptime."

"I know, but-"

"Tommy?" a little voice called hopefully from behind Sam.

Reluctantly, the mother stepped aside to permit the two friends to see
one another.  Immediately, Naomi was running towards him, arms up,
clearly thinking if he was at the door of their quarters, talking to
her mother, his being banished from her life had to be over.

"Tommy!"

Tom scooped her up into his arms.

"They said you might be dead and that they weren't sure and Sunfire
and Neelix and the Doctor and Ensign Kim and Tuvok were going to find
you and- I'm so glad to see you!"

He looked expectantly at her mother.  "May I come in?  Just for a
moment."

Seeing she had no other option, Sam nodded resignedly.  She stood
nervously to one side of the doorway as Tom took a seat on the couch
with the little girl in his lap.

"Cucumber," he began solemnly, "I have something to tell you."

"What?" she asked, happily snuggling down in his arms.

"I'm going away."

"But you just got back."

"I know, Cucumber, but I have to go again."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears.  "No!"

"Naomi, this is for the best.  The Rachar need me.  Voyager doesn't."

The little arms wrapped tightly around his neck.  "No!  I need you!
Don't leave me!"

Tears forming in Tom's eyes, he hugged her tightly back.  For a long
while, they held each other then Tom slowly uncoiled her arms from
around his neck.

"I have to go," he whispered to her.

"No!"

"I'm sorry, Cucumber."  He tried to smile but it was a pathetic shadow
of any he had shown her in the past.  "Give us a kiss?" he said,
taking her role in their "routine."

Naomi gave him a big kiss.  "Give us a hug," she returned and he
obliged.

Later, when she had time to reflect on that moment, Sam Wildman found
it was then that all her doubts about Tom Paris and his continuing
role in her daughter's life had vanished. But by the time she had
realized that fact, it was too late to go back and change things. When
it was happening, she never said the one thing she, like so many
others, should have said, the one word that would have saved all of
them a lot of heartache - "Stay."

She remained mute, however, watching the tears streaking down the
cheeks of the man who had risen, still cradling her sobbing daughter.
Unconsciously, she followed them into Naomi's room, where he gently
tucked her in and kneeled next to the bed to kiss her cheek.

"I have something for you," he told her in a cracking voice.  He
reached into the bag still dangling from one shoulder.  His hand came
out with a fuzzy purple blob of fake fur a little larger than Naomi's
head. "For your stuffed toy collection."

Naomi accepted the gift, staring into the big blue eyes of the blob.
"A geela?"

"Very good.  That's what it's supposed to be.  One day when you get
home maybe your mommy will take you to see them on Kalla VIII."

"But you said you'd take me!"

"I know."

"You promised!  You never break your promises."

Tom lowered his eyes.  "Not without good reason."

"But-"

"The Rachar need me.  I have to go."  He rose and she tried to latch
onto his sweater with both hands as if she could force him to stay
merely by not releasing her hold on him. Carefully, he pried the fists
open and kissed each hand then tucked them under the blanket with the
new toy. "Goodbye, Cucumber," he said, turning on his heel and walking
out.

Before the door to the quarters was fully closed, Naomi began wailing
and nothing her mother could do was enough to stop her.

---

"Where's Lieutenant Torres?" a nervous LaKeysha Walesan whispered to
Carey a few minutes after the fire had been doused and a repair crew
was seeing to fixing the damage.

"You shouldn't be working, LaKeysha," Joe insisted, turning to her.
"Not at this stage of your pregnancy."

"I'm not doing anything more strenuous than consulting with Vorik on a
problem he's working on.  But I really need to know where the Chief
is."

"She was asleep on her feet so I had a couple people escort her to
bed. Provided she didn't wake up in the meantime and head for Sickbay,
she's in her quarters.  Why?"

She handed over the padd B'Elanna had left behind in her sleepy
stagger for the doors.  "I thought it was a padd Vorik and I had been
using earlier so I picked it up.  But when I turned it on...."

She did not finish her explanation.  By this time, Joe had scanned the
message and blanched.  A very succinct bit of profanity, normally
unheard of from his lips, rent the air, causing many around to stop
their work and look at him.

"Vorik, you're in charge," he yelled, running out.  He did not stop
running until he hit the turbolift then began again once he had
reached B'Elanna's deck.  Nearly knocking over two crewmembers along
the way, he came to a halt in front of her door and pressed the chime.
Then he pressed it again a moment later. After four more rings, a
negligee-clad woman appeared, eyes barely open.

"B'Elanna, you'd better read this," he said, moving into the room
behind her.

"What?" she murmured.  "Read what?"

"The padd Tom gave you.  I don't know when he was in Engineering.  I
certainly don't remember it and no one mentioned it, but obviously he
was."

"Huh?"

"B'Elanna, you have to wake up!"  He gave her a shake and her eyes
popped open a little farther.

"Joe?"

"Read this."

She squinted at the padd he pressed into her palm, obviously not
seeing it. A second later, she handed it back to him.  "You read."

First he sat her down in the nearest chair then sat himself on the
couch, facing her before doing as asked.

"'B'Elanna, I know the truth about you and Harry.  I regret the fact
neither of you felt you could come to me and tell me how you felt
about one another, either before or after Dartin VIII."

Her eyes opened wider as she began to register the words.  Joe noticed
this and kept going.

"Doubtless, it would have saved both of you a great deal of heartache
while I unknowingly kept you tied to me.  I hope the general consensus
amongst the crew is correct and you two are a better match than we
ever were and you two can be happy.  Tom.'"

By the time he had finished, B'Elanna was wide awake and pale and
shaking. "How did he find out?" she whispered.

"B'Elanna, what-"

"I have to find him.  Explain to him."  She leapt up and would have
rushed out if Joe had not caught her.

"B'Elanna, look at how you're dressed.  You need to at least throw on
a robe."

In flash she was into the bedroom and calling out to Tom over the
Comm. "Torres to Paris.  Computer, locate, Lieutenant Paris."

---

"Come."

Seated on the Ready Room couch, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay
looked up from the reports they were discussing over a replicated
lunch.

"Captain," Tom began, "the Doctor informed me of your decision
regarding the Rachar and I've come asking you to reconsider."

She shook her head.  "I can't, Tom," she said in a quiet voice and she
almost reached out for Chakotay's hand for strength.

"Life is going to be rough for them there.  And they probably won't be
safe there from Gherop for long. Once the Gherop have figured out who
the successor to T'Do will be, they'll come after the Rachar.  I'm
sure of it.  They won't stop until they have them back or killed all
of them.  They don't like to be humiliated or to lose.  The Rachar
caused them to do both."

"Tom," Chakotay interrupted, "the Prime Directive-"

"It's interesting how this crew can forget and remember the Prime
Directive seemingly at will.  In fact it's been broken or ignored so
many times I've lost count."

The First Officer was beginning to take offence.  "Lieutenant-"

"You're not going to change your mind, are you, Captain?"  Tom shook
his head, already knowing her answer.  "That's what I thought."

"This is not our fight," she insisted.

"I would have thought what they did to this crew would have made it
your fight.  Clearly, I was wrong." He laid the last of his two padds
to one side of their lunch plates on the coffee table then exited the
Ready Room.

Kathryn slumped back into the cushions.

"At least you talked to him," her First Officer comforted.  "Once he's
calmed down a bit, you two can try and talk some more, especially
about what happened."

She nodded.  "But am I right in not doing what he wants?  After
everything that happened, I feel like I owe it to him and I'm
disappointing him."

"Yes, he's disappointed, but he'll get over it.  I understand his
desire to help them, but Voyager is only one ship.  We're no match for
the Gherop fleet.  And he knows that. We've done all we can for them.
But right now, he's still identifying with the Rachar.  Given time,
he'll begin to accept we can't help them any further."

"Yes," she sighed, picking up the padd he had left, "I know."

"More coffee?"

Automatically, she held out her cup as she activated the padd.  Before
he could begin pouring her another cup from the carafe, she gasped and
would have dropped the cup if he had not caught it.

"Janeway to Paris," she called desperately.

No answer.

"Computer, locate Tom Paris."

"Tom Paris no longer is on Voyager," came the response, its calmness a
marked contrast to her anxiety.

"No!"

"Kathryn?  What's wrong?" Chakotay called as she rushed out of the
room and he had to scramble to run after her.  She was standing in the
middle of the Bridge before he did. "He's probably just beamed over to
Sunfire."

Shoving the padd at him, she ignored him.  "Tuvok, where's Sunfire?"

"She powered up her engines and departed, Captain," the Vulcan
answered, confused.  "I assumed when Mr. Paris exited your Ready Room,
said goodbye to me, then beamed directly to her that you had
dispatched him on some mission."

"I didn't.  Ensign Baytart?"

Tom's replacement at the Helm swivelled in his chair.  "Yes, Captain?"

"Find out where Sunfire's gone."

"Captain?"

"Now!"

More than a little intimidated, the pilot whirled back to face the
Conn.

Tuvok was staring at his old friend with an inquiring look on his
face. "Captain?"

"He's left Voyager for good?!" Chakotay gasped, finally recovering
from reading the letter of resignation that was Tom's message to the
Captain.

The Bridge was silent except for Baytart's quiet: "She's gone,
Captain.  I can't find her trail.  Lieutenant Paris did say something
about Sunfire being unique and not leaving warp trails like other
ships do.  There's no way I know of to trace her."

"There has to be a way you're just not thinking of!" Janeway insisted
angrily.

"Kathryn, we'll find him," Chakotay assured her.  "He's in no state of
mind to be making these sorts of decisions."

"Gherop ships detected at high warp," announced Tuvok.  "They'll
intercept us in fourteen minutes."

"Evasive manoeuvres."

For the time being, necessity forced them to forget Tom Paris.  Even
an anxious, half-Klingon showing up on the Bridge in a negligee and
man's bathrobe when they were about to come under attack could not
force them to forget the peril the ship was in and make them go after
him. They had to let him go.  For now.

---

*Sunfire.*

'Not you again.'

*Bring him to us, Sunfire.*

'I told you before, if you want him to come to you, explain why you
want him and I'll tell him and maybe he'll come.'

*He can't be told yet.*

'Then he won't come.'

She knew the ship was firm on this and would not budge.  'Fine,' she
thought to herself, 'I'll just have to bring him to us another way.'

---

to be continued in To Tell The Truth Part 6: M'Nea Madeleine