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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Completed:
2008-03-31
Words:
5,610
Chapters:
4/4
Comments:
4
Kudos:
28
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2
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5,114

Heart of Ice

Summary:

Chakotay discovers that some wounds are more easily healed than others

Chapter 1: CHAPTER ONE - THE RECORDING

Notes:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE – THE RECORDING

Personal Log – Chief Helmsman Lieutenant Tom Paris

It’s snowing. Again. It started early this morning and has been coming down for about six hours now.

When it first started, I thought it was beautiful – majestic even. I mean, let’s face it – it’s been a long time since I last saw real snow. Funny how two weeks of this crap can change a guy’s perceptions.

Of course my lack of enthusiasm could be contributed to the fact that I’ve been trapped on this ice ball planet with Commander Chakotay – the most anal retentive individual in the Delta AND Alpha quadrants. To top it all off – the only thing we’ve got to eat are Starfleet rations, which are only a step above leola root-flavoured rubber.

I bet you’re wondering how we ended up here. I’m certain it would surprise no one to find that it was my fault. Yup – Tom Paris screwed up again.

It all started when my best friend, Harry Kim detected high quantities of dilithium crystals on an ice planet in a nearby system. It was an “L” class planet – the atmosphere was breathable, but because of the continual ice and snow and extreme cold temperatures, it was fairly uninhabitable. Ion storms made transporters useless, so it was decided that Commander Chakotay and I would be sent down in a shuttle to do some scouting, and using transport amplifiers, transport some crystals into the shuttle’s hull for analysis back on Voyager.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. There was no real reason to send the ship’s Commander and Chief Helmsman, but I think Captain Janeway was getting sick of the Commander and I trading barbs and glares. I think she hoped that a little “together time” would help us solve all our differences.

Ever heard of the saying “The road to hell is paved with good intentions”? Never was that saying more true than when applied to our situation. You see, the Captain didn’t really understand the animosity between Chakotay and I. She thought it was merely a clash of personalities. If only it were that simple.

Hell – when it comes to me, NOTHING is ever simple. Chakotay still saw me as a traitor. He still saw me as that drunken hustler he first met so long ago. Chakotay would take great pains to let me know what a waste of life he saw me as. Oh, he never said anything too cruel when other people were around – not even the Maquis – but when chance would bring us together alone – he’d always let me have it. I don’t blame him. I never have. I guess it’s because deep down I know that everything he says about me is true. My own Father thinks I’m nothing, and the only friend I have in the galaxy is Harry Kim – and he’s too naïve and kind-hearted to know better.

I’m just glad no one knows how truly pathetic I really am. No one had guessed that all the smartass remarks, the cocky grins and all the pranks I’ve pulled on the Commander are to hide what I really feel – that it’s all designed to hide how much I admire him…how much I want him… how much I love him.

Yeah – you heard right. I love him. Who wouldn’t? He’s noble, a great leader, compassionate and let’s face it – he’s also drop dead gorgeous. I know he’ll kill me if he ever finds out, so I box my love up, and keep it hidden deep within my heart, taking it out only when I’m alone in my quarters late at night and thoughts of Chakotay keep me from my rest.

So Janeway had no idea that such an insurmountable veritable mountain of obstacles between Chakotay and I existed, for us to ever be “friendly” with each other.

The flight to the ice planet began inauspiciously with the Commander snapping out orders as though I were a first year cadet, and needed to be talked through it. Voyager went on to survey the rest of the system which consisted of an unusual amount of “M” and “L” class moons and planets, leaving us three days before the designated rendezvous. The ice planet lay surrounded by a dense layer of asteroids, and it took all my concentration to navigate around the haphazardly strewn rock field, especially considering Chakotay was constantly berating me for not responding fast enough, or for responding too quickly.

Nothing I did was good enough. For five hours the Commander got nastier and nastier. His derision and obvious contempt hurt. I won’t deny it. It was all I could do to keep my mask in place and keep the tears at bay.

Finally, we reached the planet. I set the shuttle into orbit, and the Commander decided where we should put down.

There was nothing out of the ordinary with our approach. The ion storms were causing the expected sensor interruptions and turbulence, and the Commander kept up his litany of bitter remarks. All of a sudden, something slammed into the hull, causing the consol in front of Chakotay and I to explode. I felt the shrapnel from the explosion hit me – like a thousand cuts all at once, and blistering heat up my arms and face. I struggled to keep the nose of the shuttle up, using every trick I’d ever learned or ever even heard of.

In the back of my mind, I registered the feeling of liquid dripping down my body, and my mind recognized it as blood in a rather detached manner. A deep panic set in as I realised Chakotay was ominously silent and the snowy surface of the planet was getting closer and closer. Thrusters were off line. Hull integrity was down to 20%. System after system was shutting down. I struggled with the controls and managed to keep the nose up slightly, and glide a bit. It wasn’t enough to save us from a nasty landing, but it was enough to keep us from being completely crushed. Gods, I wished these shuttles had wings! The shuttle hit the snow with a sickening crunch, and we slid along the flat snow plane for nearly a kilometre before the shuttle shuttered to a halt.

I released the emergency harness and fell to my knees beside Chakotay, who had been flung against the back wall during the crash like a rag doll. I dragged out a med-kit and ran the tricorder over Chakotay. He had several gashes and burns, a few broken ribs, his right arm was broken and his left leg was broken in several spots. The injury that worried me the most was the large bump on his head, and his rather sever concussion.

I didn’t have a bone knitter with me, and the regenerator could only do so much. I dealt with his burns and cuts first, then focussed on the bump on his head. The swelling went down significantly, but he remained unconscious. I never thought I’d be glad that I’ve had to work with the Doc, but at the moment, I think I could have kissed his holographic feet for demanding I read and be tested on all those medical journals.

Thankful that Chakotay was still unconscious, I set his arm and leg, and made make-shift splints for both, and wrapped his ribs. I focussed the regenerator over his bump and over the broken bones again so that the healed muscles would help the bones set and heal properly…at least I hoped that was what would happen.

When I was satisfied that I’d helped him as much as I could, I sat back and ran the medical tricorder over myself. I had several deep cuts, more bruises than could be counted, and some bad burns on my hands and face from the consol explosion and electrical shortages during the crash. I’d definitely faired better than Chakotay, but there was one tiny problem – I’d inadvertently drained the power on the regenerator while tending to the Commander.

By this time, the shock of the crash had begun to wear off, and I became aware of my pain. Worse yet, my burned hands had started to cramp up and hurt like hell to move. Very slowly, and with extreme caution, I managed to use the disinfectant spray on myself and then sat back to assess the situation.

The shuttle was pretty thrashed, but the hull hadn’t been breached, which was a minor miracle in itself. I stood up and began moving and clearing the debris. After about an hour of work, the shuttle was cleaned up enough to move around safely. I carefully dragged Chakotay to one of the bunks in the back and made sure he was comfortable and warm.

Gods, I was tired, but there was too much work to do. Hindered by my burned hands, it took me awhile to get a systems check and divert some power to environmental controls so that we wouldn’t freeze to death.

I hurt too much to rest, and I couldn’t use the meds on myself, as Chakotay’s injuries were far more severe, and he would need them more than I, so I settled down on the floor and started the arduous, yet consuming task of putting the main consol back together. With a lot of luck, I’d hoped to be able to restore communications and get us off this God-forsaken ice-cube.

It was a couple hours later, when I heard a moan from the back of the shuttle. I carefully stood up, wincing at the stiffness of my muscles, and limped back to check on the Commander. I found him sitting up clutching his ribs on the bottom bunk.

He looked up as I entered the sleeping compartment and his eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve managed to get us into a fine mess, yet again” he growled.

At first, I couldn’t believe he was blaming me, and I started to stammer out a protest, but he cut me off. “So much for the Great Tom Paris – best pilot in the DQ.” He snarled, “I would have thought you could have managed to circumvent a few rocks, but as usual, you’ve proven just how incompetent you really are.”

His words flayed my heart, leaving me feeling raw, but I couldn’t help but believe what he said. I should have noticed that stray asteroid in orbit around the planet. I had been so absorbed on mentally patting myself on the back for landing us relatively in one piece, that I had forgotten the reason we had crashed in the first place. I looked up at Chakotay and saw the look of hate and disgust, and I sighed in despair – Tom Paris – Fuck Up Extraordinaire had done it again.

“Gee Commander, all those compliments – stop or I’ll blush.” It was lame, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I reached into a compartment by the door and handed the Commander some water. He took it without any thanks, and then gave me his patented ‘Chakotay Stare’.

“Report!” he barked, and unconsciously, I stood at attention and gave him a summary on the state of the systems and repairs.

“At least you’re doing something right!” he muttered and gave me a dismissive wave.

I’d love to be able to tell you that things got better after that…but I’d be lying. The repairs went slowly and Chakotay got grumpier than ever, thanks to his injuries. I finally was able to get communications up and running, but again my hopes of a quick rescue were dashed when the Captain told us that the storms were going to delay our rescue. Tuvok’s cold and impersonal voice informed me that the storms could rage on for up to a month. I felt like crying.

So day after day went by, and Chakotay got stronger, and his comments stung worse than ever. I’d repaired what I could, and was finally able to let myself rest. The problem was, while Chakotay was getting better – I was getting worse. I’d developed a bad infection from the cuts and burns, and the med-kit was completely depleted from looking after the Commander.

I have a high fever, and the infection is starting to go through my system, which leads me back to square one. It’s still snowing. The meal replacement bars still taste like crap…and I’m dying. I don’t think Chakotay has noticed it yet. He barely looks at me, and mostly prefers to sit at the front of the shuttle reading history PADDs. Maybe it’s better this way. I would hate to endure his pity. At least his hate is honest. With any luck, I’ll slip away before he knows what’s happening. The storms above us are still raging, and there is no way Janeway will get here in time.

There it is – the entire story of how I, Tom Paris screwed up for the last time. I realize this log doesn’t really conform to Starfleet ideals, but then again…neither have I.