by Melanie
"Rix? Souris?" DeLaur cried. "What is going on?" She attempted to break her lover's hold on her arm yet could not. "Rix, release me. You're hurting me."
"My apologies, DeLaur," he answered solemnly.
She never saw the knife that slit her throat from ear to ear, silencing the most precious vocal cords in the entire galaxy for the last time.
But the others in the room did. One could have heard their own heart beat in the silence that descended over the room. Other than the soldiers and Souris, every single being in the room stared, stunned as the lifeless form of the famous singer slowly slid to the floor.
"The Syndicate was not the only one who wished to see their interests protected," AlphaOmegan 41783 informed them, casually stepping over the body. "We have a counterproposal to offer. I do not suggest you refuse it."
-------
"Doctor to Paris."
"Tom" jerked upright. Blinking rapidly, Tom tried to shake off the memory. "Go ahead, Doc."
"Crewwoman Walesan is scheduled for her prenatal exam at 0715. Will you be joining us or should I perform it?"
'I really ought to go, Tuvok,' Tom explained. 'I have been there so far.'
'Fine, Lieutenant,' Tuvok answered distractedly.
"We'll be there, Doc. Paris out."
'Mr. Paris, we need to discuss your latest memory.'
Placing his clothing from the day before in the refresher prior to climbing into the shower, Tom thought about Tuvok's demand. Tom knew the Vulcan was not going to be put off again. He had gotten off easy when he had been able to delay the Uucuu incident discussion. Maybe avoidance was not the way to handle this after all. His "roommate" needed to be prepared for what would happen when the AlphaOmegans came to collect Tom. He had the right to know the danger Tom's good deed had unintentionally had landed him in.
'Lieutenant,' Tuvok continued, 'I know the name Elxs Tho, and those of some of the others. A Commander I once served under was assigned to the investigation into DeLaur's murder. You would have liked him, Lieutenant. He listened to his "gut instinct" also. It told him that, though all of the evidence pointed in one direction, the solution to the mystery lay in another. Oddly enough, he eventually conceded the obvious solution was the correct one. Clearly he was correct in his first conclusion. I now have witnessed your memories of two assassinations carried out by your own hand. As a Starfleet officer and Head of Security on Voyager, it is my duty to-'
'And it was my duty to do what I did,' he sighed.
'Your duty? You mean to say Starfleet ordered you to do what you did?'
'Not Starfleet, no. I was under orders from a part of the Federation government,' he oversimplified. 'They sent me to take care of some things that had gone out of control. The Romulan prisoner was taken into custody as a simple case of mistaken identity. By the next day, the warden would have had the conformation he needed to prove the Romulan's claims he wasn't the man they sought and he'd have been released to the Romulans. He'd have been free to carry on with his plan to orchestrate civil wars on several key Federation and Romulan planets, bringing both to their knees. I was sent to see that never happened.'
'I see. And DeLaur?'
'She was collecting information from her adoring and powerful fans and selling it to the highest bidder.' AlphaOmegan 41783 quoted from the official report on the operation. 'She had extracted some intell from a V.I.P. and did not realize its importance at the time. Had she lived five more days, she would have known the true value of the seemingly meaningless pillow talk they had exchanged and it would have jeopardized several key operations we had a vested interest in seeing completed.'
Tom sighed again, resuming control of the narrative. 'The death of her protégé originally set up to appear to be a mistake, a hit on her that missed so later, when she died, it would appear to be the work of some psychotic fan. Had things been carried out as they were meant to, your former commander would not have had any problems accepting the case as it was presented to him.'
'But....'
'But one of my colleagues, Souris, discovered there were bigger things a foot than just DeLaur's petty information brokering.'
'Elxs Tho.'
'Yes. We knew DeLaur had information on her. The plan had been to extract it from her then eliminate her. When we discovered she was involved in some huge plan of Tho's, we had to know what it was. Things did not go quite as planned. Zepfa showed up unexpectedly and we had to improvise. She ended up dying there, that way.'
'My former commander's coming to ignore his "gut reaction"-'
'Was because someone would have got to him and convinced him to fall in line, yes.'
'I see. He was pressured to abandon the case.'
'You could put it that way. Look, Tuvok, there are only two reason why I'm telling you all this. One, you've seen too much to neatly explain it all away. And two, the people who gave me my orders may be coming to collect me or eliminate me and you now have to worry about that too because you are sharing my body. Even after you leave me, you won't be safe. They give new meaning to the term "paranoia," Tuvok. They'll wonder exactly what I may have told you so you'll be in danger too. It's only fair you know what I've gotten you into.'
'Why would they wish to eliminate you and possibly me?'
'Because I know too much.'
'And now so do I.'
'You know a bit, yes. And like I said, they're paranoid. They've spent almost two centuries protecting the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. They won't appreciate having to worry about a possible threat to all of their efforts lurking out here in the Delta Quadrant. They'll do their best to eliminate that worry.'
'So how do we protect ourselves?'
'I had a plan, but it's useless now.'
'The one we revealed with the parole test.'
'It revealed part of it.'
'And the rest?'
'Can't help now.'
'This new insight into your life brings up many questions, Lieutenant.'
'Which aren't going to be answered.'
'Lieutenant -'
'The less you know, the better, Tuvok. You'll just have to trust me on that.'
Tom guided their body out of the shower and into the bedroom.
-------
"Commander Tuvok. Lieutenant Paris."
As he fell into step with her, "Tom" inclined his head towards Seven. "Seven of Nine," Tuvok greeted.
"How are you and Lieutenant Paris feeling?"
An eyebrow rose at the question.
"I have been told it is considered polite to enquire after another's health as and opening to a conversation."
"That is a convention of some cultures, yes. Lieutenant Paris and I are feeling... fine." He paused. "How are you, Seven?"
"I am... well." The opening gambit played, she moved from polite niceties to something she understood. "Yesterday afternoon, Lieutenant Torres and I began planning modifications on the robot body. It is crude though it should fulfill its function within reasonable parameters once the modifications are finished. We will begin building the prototype this morning."
There was a lull in the conversation.
"When I was in Sickbay for my weekly medical examination last night, the Doctor said your body appeared to be improving."
"Yes, however the rate of progress is unacceptably slow. The body may still expire before it is sufficiently improved to reoccupy."
"That would be unfortunate."
"Yes, it would."
They entered a turbolift and requested their respective decks.
Seven was silent for a moment then turned to "Tom." "May I speak with Lieutenant Paris for a moment?"
Tom took the forefront. "Yes, Seven?"
"Lt...." Now that she had him, she seemed not to know what to say. She stiffly came to attention. "Computer, halt turbolift."
The lift stopped.
"Lieutenant, when I was with the Doctor, Mr. Neelix entered Sickbay to check on the Commander's body. He made reference to the parole simulation and your l
ingering displeasure with those who participated in the planning of it. Is this true?"
Tom's jaw tightened. "I was not exactly thrilled, no."
"I find the idea of being one of the objects of your displeasure... discomforting," she remarked, introspective in her tone. She met his eyes full on. "Though comfort is irrelevant, I find I no longer wish to be uncomfortable. The Captain says we meant well, but we did not do well. Is this the case?"
"Yes, Seven," Tom confirmed, unconsciously allowing his position against the conspirators to soften. "Everyone should have left well enough alone."
"I see. So your attitude and behaviors that so concerned the others and prompted their actions should have been ignored."
"I..." Tom turned away. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, Seven. Computer, resume."
The lift traveled the remainder of the distance to Deck Five and Tom exited. As the doors closed, Seven watched him, perplexed.
-------
Crewman Ver Faran tolerated Tom Paris only because he had no other choice. That fact hardly was a secret from anyone with the exception of the Captain, Commander, and Chief of Security. Now it was only a secret from the former two. Tuvok had seen first hand how less than amiable the former Maquis was to the former Maquis traitor.
'Mr. Paris, the crewman dislikes you.'
'Gee, Tuvok, I hadn't noticed.'
'Why?'
Tom knew Tuvok was ignoring the sarcastic comeback and questioning Ver's animosity. 'I don't know. The usual probably.' "LaKeysha, I need you to hold still for a moment."
The pregnant young woman nodded and relaxed against the padding of the biobed. She was more than willing to lie there quietly while Tom did whatever he needed to do. At five months along, she already was at the stage that anything that got her off of her feet was welcomed with open arms.
Her mate was another story. "What are you going to do with that?" Ver demanded. It was a toss up as to which he was glaring at harder -- Paris or the mysterious instrument in his hand.
"It's a Zebraskan scanner," Tom identified in his most civil tone. As he used it, he went on to explain exactly what it was and why he was using it. He did this even though he knew the young Bajoran did not really want to know.
Ver was spoiling for a fight with Paris, preferably a physical brawl. Since the early days of LaKeysha's pregnancy and the Doctor had assigned Tom to do the routine exams, Ver had tried every angle to try to get a rise out of the pilot. It was beginning to grate on his nerves that his enemy consistently refused to rise to the bait. Right now it seemed not even the presence of Tuvok or LaKeysha was going to keep him in check.
"There we go," Tom smiled. "All done. Your baby is developing normally. In about four months Voyager should be welcoming its newest edition to the Family. You're sure you don't want to know the sex?"
"We've said we are sure," Ver ground out. He roughly brushed Tom's hand away from LaKeysha as the medical assistant attempted to help the expectant mother to a sitting position.
Tom continued to ignore Ver's treatment of him.
"Why can't the EMH do these check ups?"
This was an old complaint.
"Faran, Lieutenant Paris has told you every time you ask that question that he is fully qualified to do these tests and if anything turns up that he can't handle the Doctor will step in."
"He's not a doctor. He's just..."
LaKeysha folded her arms across her chest and looked pointedly up at her mate. "He's just what?"
Tuvok chose this moment to step in "Yes, Crewman Ver," Tuvok said in his most serious tone, "what is Lieutenant Paris?"
'Leave it alone, Tuvok,' Tom admonished. 'LaKeysha's pregnant. She doesn't need anymore stress than she already is under. Don't confront Ver.'
Under LaKeysha's glare, Ver backed down and took her hand. "Come on, you need to get to your station or we'll both be late." He ushered her out of Sickbay without farewell.
'That is insubordination.'
'Tuvok,' Tom began, replacing the equipment he had used back into their respective receptacles, 'I told you not to push it. Some people don't like me and never will. Live with it. I do. Now what's on our schedule for today?'
The Vulcan reluctantly dropped the subject. And picked up another contentious one. 'Seven's statements in the turbolift have made me realize we should discuss some things.'
'What things?'
'The parole test for one.'
'Tuvok, not right now.'
'Now is the perfect time, Mr. Paris. You and I -'
"Ah, gentlemen," the EMH greeted as he stepped out of his office, "since you are here we should take this opportunity to give you a check up. Take a seat over here."
Tom breathed a sigh of relief and hopped up on the nearby biobed. He knew it was inevitable that they talk about what Tuvok now knew. Eventually he would have to tell Tuvok enough of the truth to pacify him. The question was how much would suffice?
-------
By mid-day, "Tom" had returned to his quarters for lunch. After what had happened the last time they had entered the Mess Hall, Tom refused to take any chances by going in there. They argued a bit over the lunch menu then settled on an innocuous tomato soup. Once the meal was finished, "Tom" moved from a chair at the dining table to the one at his desk. Tom knew he could not put off doing what had to be done any longer. Tuvok's body was showing no signs of a miracle recovery. They might actually have to use the robot. That meant he had no choice other than to show Tuvok the secret files every ship built in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants carried.
Tom entered a complex series of codes into his desktop computer. A forcefield crackled to life across the door and the screen before him lit up.
'What are you doing, Mr. Paris?'
'Getting the Graves information. The forcefield is so no one stumbles in here and sees something they're not supposed to.'
"Computer, recognize Paris, Thomas Eugene. Alpha Gamma Four. Request access to AlphaOmegan files. Clearance, Delta Tango 6218144. Ultra Maroon through Ice Blue. Clear."
"Please state identification code."
"AlphaOmegan 41783. Project Phoenix. Codename Sunbird."
"Recognized, AlphaOmegan 41783. Please state request."
"Open file 'Graves, Ira, Doctor.'"
A picture of Ira Graves and his complete file appeared before them. Tom paged down until he found the link to the accompanying research. As he refreshed his memory regarding the procedure, he felt Tuvok reading "over his shoulder" as it were.
'Still willing to consider this, Tuvok?'
'I see nothing here that is unduly risky, Lieutenant. However, I also do not see any notations regarding transferring only one consciousness when two are present.'
'Ah, but that is where we come in. We get the pleasure of figuring out that one.'
'I see. Lieutenant?'
'Yes, Tuvok?' Tom answered, distractedly. The majority of his attention was on the documentation before him.
'You are an AlphaOmegan?'
All of Tom's attention shifted to his companion. 'Yes, Tuvok?'
'When I was serving on the Excelsior under Captain Sulu I believe there was an incident with an AlphaOmegan.'
Tom called up Tuvok's file -- the complete version, not the one Starfleet had. He quickly jumped to the incident Tuvok meant.
'AlphaOmegan 27112. Injured during a Mission and a shuttle from the Excelsior stumbled across his heavily damaged ship. You were on the shuttle and reported the only thing the survivor said before he died was "AlphaOmegan." No one other than you with your Vulcan hearing heard it. No sense could be made of the words other than "alpha" meaning first and "omega" meaning last. *Family* claimed the body saying he hadn't been mentally ill for some time and that was the only explanation the could give for his words and presence where you found him, in the condition you found him in.'
'Given the manner in which you said "family," can I assume they were not his relations.'
'They were some of ours.' He switched back to Grave
s' research. 'Our leaders needed to know how much of his Mission had been accomplished.'
'He was dead. How could they have received their answer? If I remember correctly, they did not take anything other than the body.'
'They didn't need anything further than that.'
'What do you mean?'
Tom sighed. Tuvok was not going to give up now that he was starting to get the answers he wanted. 'Each one of us has an Implant in our brains,' he told him. 'It records everything we experience with our senses. Once we're at a base, a technician can download it all for analysis. That's why they only needed the body. For the Implant.'
'You have one of these devices?'
'Yes.'
'Then when they come for you-'
'Mine is damaged, Tuvok. The incident with Chakotay's akoonah caused a malfunction. It might not be recording any further. I don't know. The scans I performed on it after the fact were inconclusive.'
'Why has the Doctor never found it?'
'It's cloaked.'
'So at least part of it continues to function. And if part of it does, you cannot be certain the rest of it is not as well.'
'Exactly.'
'So there truly is no way of protecting ourselves from them.'
Tom thought for a moment then called up the file on "plientis root extract." He waited while Tuvok read the information.
'I know all this, Lieutenant.'
Saying nothing, Tom highlighted a section of the text. Specifically, it was the section about the extract's effects on certain alloys. 'That is what the Implant is made of. If it were to come in contact with the extract....'
'It would be destroyed. That is why you had the hypospray of the extract in the simulation? But how were you planning on removing the Implant? Operating on your self to remove it?'
'No. Once implanted, it can't be removed.'
'Then you would have had to introduce the extract into your system.'
Tom went back to the Graves research once more. 'Yes.'
'You would have died.'
'Yes.'
'This was what you had planned to do when you stayed behind?'
'Yes.'
'That is drastic.'
'It was the only way.'
Now that he had begun letting the story out, Tom found himself unable to stop. He knew with every word he was plunging Tuvok deeper into danger along with himself, yet he had born the weight of his secrets for so long. He needed to talk to someone, needed to share some of his burden before it destroyed him. Added to that, he was starting to lose hope of ever saving anyone on Voyager. His best plan had been ruined. He was beginning to think that no matter what precautions he took, they all were going to die.
