The Star Trek: Voyager premise and its characters belong to Paramount Studios, a Viacom company. No infringement on Paramount's or Viacom's rights is intended. This round robin group story was written by fans just for the fun of it. Please keep this disclaimer attached to the file.
"Inheritance,
by the P/T Collective
*Well, well, well,* thought the ship's captain, carefully considering the bright object on the viewscreen. *A Federation starship, Intrepid class -- a warship. Hm. Bioneural system circuitry, 148 life signs, cruising at warp six, heading straight for Federation space. How very interesting.* Aloud he said, "K'Fin, scan their weapons systems." "Weapons are operational but not powered up, Jinar." "Shields? Sensors?" "Shields are operational but also not activated. The ship is running standard sweep scans. They haven't detected us." "Slip into their warp trail and monitor their every move. Do nothing to make them suspect we are here. Power down all non-essential systems. Do not decloak for any reason." "Jinar! To stalk a ship, hiding behind a cloak! It's not -- " The captain swiveled around in his command chair and faced his companion. "DO IT!" he barked, then turned back to the enigma on the viewscreen. *The Federation starship Voyager. Running amok in the Delta Quadrant. Very interesting indeed.* B'Elanna Torres squeezed her eyes shut and let the sensations of the moment take over. A wonderful dinner, fine wine, a lovely dress, beautiful music, privacy, and the warm, solid embrace of Tom Paris. *What more could I wish for?* she asked herself. *Some engineering problem to solve? Yeah, right.* She chuckled softly. She felt him pull away and knew he had glanced down at her. "Fill me in?" "Oh, nothing," she replied with a cryptic smile. "I was just dreaming about . . . plasma conduits." Tom pulled her back into his arms. "Great. Wonderful. Nice to know I inspire women to dream of such romantic things as plasma conduits." He rested his cheek on the top of her head and could feel her laughing again softly. "You know, I've decided Making B'Elanna Laugh should be my number one priority. I've never thought you laughed enough, Lieutenant. You're so uptight all the time. Time to kick back and enjoy life a little." B'Elanna considered this. In truth, she had never had much to laugh about. Her whole life so far seemed to have been one constant struggle with her mother, her classmates, her colleagues, and especially, herself. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to let go and just . . . be. "B'Elanna?" "Hm?" "My number two priority is to make you completely forget about plasma conduits." She opened her eyes and looked into his. Without words, a question was asked and answered. She felt a warm glow of anticipation come to life and slowly start to spread though her body, along with the almost irresistible urge to give him a little nip. Just one. A little one. Or two. "Maybe we should -- " "Kim to Torres." "Not now, Harry," Tom warned him, answering for her. Ensign Harry Kim felt a momentary sensation of intense satisfaction. So they WERE together somewhere. He had thought as much when he couldn't find her either on the bridge or in Engineering, and when his hails had gone unanswered at both her quarters and his. But there was no way around it; this might be important and he needed her input. He didn't want to alert Tuvok or the captain before he was sure. "Hey, I wasn't talking to you, Helmboy," he replied. "I'm getting some unusual readings from the sensors. B'Elanna, can you meet me in Engineering?" "I'll be -- oh! -- there in -- ah! -- ten . . . um, make that fifteen minutes. Torres OUT." She pulled out of his grasp. "That wasn't funny," she snapped. "What do you think you're doing, nibbling on me like that with Harry listening?" "Just trying to convince you not to go," he said sweetly. "Didn't you like it?" "Like it? Like it. Didn't I like it," she said dazedly. Then she pulled herself together. "Of course I liked it! But right now we've got a job to do, Count Paris. Maybe later we can, um, get together." "'Maybe' and 'later,'" he sighed. "Story of my life." Kathryn Janeway glanced at each member of her assembled senior staff: Chakotay, Tuvok, Kim, Neelix, Torres, Paris. Told simply without any explanation to report to her ready room, all looked alert and ready for action despite the late hour. She felt an overwhelming sense of pride. So many disparate personalities, brought together and forced by circumstance to function as one unit under her leadership. This was a crew any captain would be proud of. She had in hand only the most basic of preliminary reports. She nodded now at Harry Kim. "Ensign, I understand this story starts with you." "Yes, Captain," said Harry, leaning forward. "I detected an unusual low-energy tachyon resonance wave of some sort." "What was the origin of the wave?" asked Tuvok solemnly. "That's what is so unusual. It came out of absolutely nowhere -- empty space -- and disappeared almost immediately. When my watch on the bridge was over, I went down to Engineering to study it further and I finally got a lock on it for a few seconds. Then it vanished again into thin air." Kathryn smiled at Harry's odd use of the metaphor as Lieutenant Paris jumped in. "What could explain that?" "A cloaked ship," she replied thoughtfully. "Yes, exactly," said B'Elanna, taking up the tale. "Harry and I ran a series of tricky scans, but we couldn't find anything. The space all around us seemed completely undisturbed. It was as if the wave or the ship had never existed. Then Lieutenant Par -- I mean -- someone . . . ," she faltered. Harry covered for her. "We were reminded that someone can easily sneak up behind you if you are only concentrating on what is in front of you, say 'Boo' and scare us both half to death." He stole a quick disgruntled look at Paris. All of the assembled officers had razor-sharp wits. Harry's unintentional switch in person from 'you' to 'us' did not escape their notice. Five other pairs of eyes came to rest on their pilot. "What?" he said defensively. B'Elanna charged in and took over, hoping to preclude any further commentary. "Harry and I released a stream of charged thoron particles into our own warp trail. It immediately diverged behind us and then recollected again." "Like water flowing around a boulder in a stream," said the captain. "Just so, Captain. There is no doubt about it. We are being followed," said Harry. Chakotay leaned back in his chair. "The next questions must be by whom are we being followed? For how long? For what purpose?" "I could make a guess as to how long," replied B'Elanna. "About two hours. But as to who they are?" She shook her head. "Two hours is long enough no matter who they are," the captain said decisively. "It is time they showed themselves. Return to your stations; we're going to red alert. Let's knock this rock out of the water and see what it has to say for itself." She rose from her chair as the Klaxon sounded. "B'Elanna, ship's engineering from the bridge." They resolutely filed out of the ready room and relieved the junior officers of their stations. The captain launched her orders. "Lieutenant Paris, I want you to turn the ship hard to port and immediately drop out of warp. Ensign Kim, prepare to raise shields. Re-calibrate the sensors. Look for the resonance wave, tachyon emissions, disturbed space, anything. Tuvok, be ready to power the weapons; I hope to avoid a fight, but we will if we have to. Lieutenant Torres, try to get a lock on their warp signature as they go by us. We have to be able to identify the ship; we can't just fire on a curious space bystander. Chakotay, ready some concussive energy pulses we can launch and detonate to shake them loose. We're going to make this rock come up for air. Everyone ready? On my mark. Go." Tom's heart pounded as his fingers flew over the controls of the conn. This was the kind of action he lived for. "New heading: 270. 135. Switching to full impulse power." "Shields up, weapons powered to maximum," said Tuvok calmly. "I've got a possible reading -- Captain, they're right on top of us!" yelped Kim. "Tom, stay with them!" barked the captain. "Re-engaging warp engines," he responded. "Launching pulses now, Tuvok," said Chakotay. "Be ready to detonate them! All hands brace for impact!" A series of white shock waves filled the viewscreen, and the ship rocked as they sailed through the backwash of their own explosive devices. "Captain, I may have a lock on their position," announced Harry. "Hail them." "No response. Shields are holding." "Another round, Chakotay,
" ordered the captain. "Let's let them know we mean business." Voyager rocked again as Chakotay deployed and Tuvok detonated another volley of concussive pulses. "Captain!" said Harry excitedly, "It worked! The ship is decloaking!" "Onscreen." "It's a -- " Harry stopped, dumbfounded, but it didn't matter. Now they could all see for themselves what it was. Harry punched a few sensor controls. "It's the Gin'tak," he announced. "A bird- of-prey of the Klingon Empire. Their weapons are powered. Captain, we are being hailed." Kathryn Janeway took a deep breath and rose from her command chair. Things were going from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. "Mr. Kim, onscreen," she ordered sharply. Several seconds later the image of a Klingon filled the viewscreen. "It's curious," he said in a deep voice, "that a Federation starship would be almost 70,000 light years away from Federation space." "I could say the same for you," Janeway retorted. "Why are you following us?" she demanded. At the engineering station, she heard B'Elanna take in a sharp breath, as if she had seen something shocking. She would have to deal with that later, she decided, turning her attention back to the viewscreen. "First, we should have proper introductions," the Klingon said smoothly. Chakotay shot a look at the captain. This was definitely not normal Klingon procedure. "I am Jinar, captain of the vessel. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. I ask again, why are you following us?" Kathryn was not going to stop interrogating until she got some answers. "What are YOU doing 70 thousand light years from the Klingon Empire?" "Captain, must you be so . . . belligerent?" asked Jinar. "I thought Federation starship captains excelled in diplomacy." Kathryn was getting very suspicious. This was definitely not normal. "And I thought the Federation and the Klingon Empire had a treaty." Jinar laughed. "Obviously you have been out of contact with your Federation for some time. The treaty was broken, and there was war between our people." Kathryn sat back down in her command chair before her knees could buckle out from under her. "But do not worry," added the Klingon helpfully. "Now that the Cardassians and the Dominion have formed an alliance, the Klingon Empire and the Federation are allies again." At the helm, Lieutenant Tom Paris took in a deep breath. The thought of the Dominion and the Cardassians together was appalling. He looked at B'Elanna for her reaction, and found her still staring at the viewscreen, not at Jinar, but at someone behind him. Maybe it was just because she was surprised to see Klingons in the Delta Quadrant, he figured. He'd have to ask her about it later. "That still doesn't explain what you're doing in the Delta Quadrant following us," Kathryn said, trying to absorb all the information Jinar had given her. "Obviously, we have much to discuss, Captain Janeway. Permission to come aboard? I'll explain everything then." "Permission granted," answered the captain. "Captain, may I remind you we still do not know the precise reason the Klingon bird-of-prey was following us? They could attempt to fire upon us when we disengage our shields to transport Captain Jinar aboard," Tuvok reminded her. Jinar answered before the captain could. "I am a man of honor, Captain Janeway. I would not attempt to fire on a defenseless ship," he answered, sounding almost hurt at the accusation. "Mr. Tuvok, while your concern is noted, I do not believe they will fire upon us," said Kathryn. "Lower shields to transport Captain Jinar aboard." "May I ask if I may bring aboard my first officer, Commander K'Fin?" requested Jinar. "She may be helpful in answering some of your questions." "All right, then. Mr. Tuvok, meet our guests in Transporter Room 2," ordered Kathryn. Jinar's image vanished from the viewscreen. "Paris, Torres, Kim and Chakotay, meet me in the conference room." B'Elanna stood up, and faced the captain. "Captain, I request permission not to attend this conference." Harry, Tom and Chakotay looked at her, befuddled. B'Elanna had never liked briefings or conferences, but out of all of them, they thought she would be the most curious to know how the bird-of-prey was able to follow in their warp trail. Kathryn stared at her for a minute and then said, "No, Lieutenant Torres, I think you're needed at this conference. Request denied." Kathryn headed toward the turbolift, entered and ordered the computer to take her to the conference room. B'Elanna followed her, her displeasure obvious. Tom, Harry and Chakotay followed B'Elanna into the turbolift. As the doors hissed shut, Tom couldn't help noticing B'Elanna's face. It was stiff and hard, and she seemed to be reliving a very important occasion of her life inside her head. It was totally opposite to the laughing, carefree B'Elanna who had been on the holodeck with him earlier. Tom wanted to reach out and help her, but they were in the middle of a turbolift, and the captain and Chakotay were standing in his way. Captain Janeway watched silently as the small procession filed in: one customary security officer, Ensign Ethan Simms, followed by the two Klingon officers, and, close behind, Lieutenant Tuvok. No one spoke until Captain Jinar, Commander K'Fin and Lieutenant Tuvok had taken their seats. This gave Kathryn time to examine her officers' responses to the situation. Beside her, Chakotay's face held no clue as to his thoughts, but the familiar sparkle in his eyes betrayed his curiosity. Harry sat next to the first officer, though his expression was the complete opposite. It was obvious the young man was suspicious of the unexpected appearance of the bird-of-prey and its passengers. Despite that, Kathryn knew she could count on him to be on his guard. Tom Paris was seated in his usual spot, yet his attention was not trained on the Klingons or the situation they represented. His chair was turned towards B'Elanna so he could study her countenance, which was troubled. B'Elanna sat rigidly in her chair, her gaze focused on the Klingons taking their seats across from her. *No,* Janeway decided, *just the woman, K'Fin. All B'Elanna sees is the woman before her, the rest of the room is tuned out.* Kathryn could only guess what this meant for the younger woman; K'Fin might, in some way, represent a side of B'Elanna she had tried to hide and forget, but that was pure speculation. If the problem persisted, Janeway would have to approach her on it, but as K'Fin, her captain, and Tuvok settled into their chairs to Janeway's right, B'Elanna's form relaxed noticeably. A small, embarrassed smile seemed to be creeping its way onto her lips and her cheeks blushed a light pink. Janeway, assured that her officers were alert and ready, turned to greet the new arrivals. "Captain Janeway," Jinar began, beating her to the punch, "thank you for permitting us to come aboard. I will admit my intentions in coming here are divided. Of course, I wish to learn your story, but I also wanted to get a better look at your ship. I have heard of Voyager. Three years ago we received word of a newly commissioned starship with bioneural circuitry. Many looked forward to the chance of fighting beside such a ship." Janeway met the flattery with a gracious smile and didn't fail to notice K'Fin's shocked expression as her head shot around to face her commanding officer. All the more reason Kathryn was doubtful of Jinar's sincerity. "But then we heard nothing more of it, as if it had never existed. It was thought that some problem had occurred with the new technology, and the ship had been forced to be put out of service. Very unfortunate, and something we could not understand. Our scientists reviewed the possibilities and could find nothing that might seriously hinder the ship. And now we find it here. Very curious," he finished, prompting explanations. Janeway sat silently for a moment, considering her options. She wasn't buying Jinar's story, not even for a minute. Though it wasn't impossible for the Klingons to have knowledge of Voyager and its features, it was highly unlikely. Security around her ship's technology, if not its bare creation, had been strictly enforced. "First, Captain, I believe we should have proper introductions," she said. "Of course, Captain." He turned and indicated K'Fin beside him. "My first officer, Commander K'Fin." The Klingon -- Janeway guessed her to be in her late thirties or early forties -- nodded her salutations. Kathryn returned the sentiment then began to introduce her own crew. As she came to B'Elanna, she noted the curious smile Jinar gave the engineer, but ignored it when B'Elanna remained unfazed. Her voice brought Jinar's attention back to her. "Before we exchange stories, Captain, there is something you said that troubles me." "Oh?" "Over the comm you said the treaty established at the Khitomer Peace Conference had been dissolved and we were at war --
" "Well, I tend to exaggerate. There were battles, but nothing the Klingon Empire is considering a war, though I believe the Federation has marked it as one," he said, his voice condescending. "The treaty has been re-established and the Empire and the Federation are once again friends and allies. You have nothing to worry about." "I see. Then -- why were you lurking behind us?" "Lurking? Captain, we were not lurking, merely taking up a defensive posture. We did not know who you were, but were well aware of your capabilities." Janeway smiled thoughtfully and nodded. "You did not see the words 'USS Voyager' written across our hull?" she asked, trying to pull the carpet from under his feet. Jinar knew what the woman was trying to do and was ready. "Of course we knew it was a Federation ship. But as to who was commanding . . . ?" *Damn,* Kathryn thought. *This is not your typical Klingon. Any other would have taken that as an accusation of dishonorable action.* "Captain, I would like to hear how you came to be this far from home," he said, interrupting Janeway's thoughts. "Of course." She paused to consider her words carefully. "Starfleet sent us into the Badlands along the Cardassian border. They wanted to test Voyager's maneuvering capabilities in type five-plus plasma storms and received permission from the Cardassian government to do so in their space." She ignored the puzzled looks she received from her officers and continued. "While we were there, a coherent tetryon beam appeared and propelled us here." "A tetryon beam? Very curious. Did you ever discover its source?" "Yes, we did. It was an array stationed approximately three years distance from here. A non-corporeal life form had been bringing ships to the sector for quite some time." Jinar's eyebrows raised and he sat forward in his chair. "A hostile entity. I trust you took proper actions against it." "On the contrary, Jinar, we didn't have to. It died soon after." "Then this 'array,' -- why did you not use it to send you back?" "The array was destroyed." He heaved a sigh and sat back, clearly disappointed. "Hm, I suppose you would not have remained here if there were any other way of returning to the Federation." "No, we would welcome any way of returning home. You -- " "Captain," he said cutting her off, "I believe I know what you are about to ask. You wish to know how we came to be here, and whether you can use the method as a way back." "That's correct. You arrived after us, so you couldn't have come the same way we did." "No, much differently, though it was also by accident. I am not very knowledgeable about the science behind the procedure . . . ." His voice drifted off and K'Fin picked up the tale, though not before some hesitation. "The Empire has received valuable information from the Trill government. For some time, a small group of scientists had been trying to create a stable wormhole. In a joint operation between the Trill scientists and Starfleet, they took a starship into the Gamma Quadrant and attempted to constitute a wormhole. They succeeded in establishing one, but it was not stable enough to travel through. They also were not sure where the other opening was." She paused now, her features darkening at some ill thought. "Because of the Dominion threat, and Starfleet's . . . . decision not to attack our enemy or destroy the Bajoran wormhole making the Alpha Quadrant inaccessible, and because Deep Space Nine posed a strong resilience to any attack, Chancellor Gowron assembled a group of scientists to attempt to use the information to our advantage. Three bird-of-prey were sent to remote areas of space, where they began to try to set up wormholes that would give the Klingon fleet an open route to the Gamma Quadrant." "Then you succeeded?!" Harry jumped in eagerly. Both Janeway and K'Fin gave him a disapproving glance and he quickly shut up. "We did succeed," K'Fin told him, "but only in creating the wormhole. We still were not sure where the other end was, either. Because we did not have the same resources, and because we were altering procedures as we thought they were needed, the outcome was different from what Starfleet and the Trill encountered." "We sent in sensor probes," she continued, "but because of the amount of verteron particles we would constantly lose their signal." "A month ago, the Dominion began a large assault. Gowron -- " Jinar stopped as if to keep from saying something he might regret. After a moment, he continued. "Gowron decided the risk was worth it and sent us into the wormhole. If we were able, we were to return and report directly to him. We waited a week for a supply ship to deliver what we might need, and then entered the wormhole. Apparently, in that week relations between our peoples were re-established. The supply ship received a subspace message ordering the mission aborted." "The captain of the ship was STUPID enough to enter at warp speed," K'Fin spat out. "We obtained a partial message describing the situation before the ship's warp engines disrupted the already unstable cohesion of the wormhole, destroying the supply ship and depositing us here. We have attempted to recreate the wormhole and return, but the integrity of the surrounding space has become so delicate we are unable to set it up." Silence filled the room and everyone's hopes quickly died. Once again, they were showed another possible way home only to have it taken away. And once again, Kathryn Janeway was willing to exhaust every option in hopes of a way home. "Perhaps, Captain Jinar, we might work together. Our chances would surely increase," Janeway suggested. At her captain's considering gaze, K'Fin quickly spoke up, "Jinar -- " "I believe that would be acceptable," he said, sending K'Fin a warning look. "Captain, if I could review their infor -- " B'Elanna began. "I will have it sent over immediately," Jinar said with a smile directed at B'Elanna. She attempted to smile back, but knew it came out a grimace. "Fine," Janeway said, standing. The others followed suit. "Mr. Tuvok and Mr. Simms will escort you back to our transporter room." Ethan Simms, who had been standing near the door during the briefing, waited until the Klingons were out of their seats and walking towards the door before he exited. Tuvok followed behind an obviously irked K'Fin. As the doors slid shut, Janeway turned to her officers. "B'Elanna." "Yes, Captain?" "I have a feeling you're going to end up working rather closely with K'Fin since she seems to be in charge of the science portion of their mission. Do you foresee any problems with that?" "Oh -- uh, no, Captain," she said, feigning ignorance. "Good," the captain replied and sat back down in her chair. She motioned the others to follow. "Comments?" She knew what was on everyone's mind. They all wanted to know why she had lied about Voyager's initial mission. But to inquire might sound as if they were questioning her judgment. Finally, Chakotay spoke up. "Captain? 'Testing maneuvering capabilities?'" "I was waiting for this," she said with a wry smile. "You all have a right to know. I did not tell Jinar the truth for two reasons. One, I don't trust him. Even if he hadn't said anything about Starfleet being at war with the Klingons, he's highly suspicious. I gave him what most Klingons would consider an insult -- more than once -- but he didn't bait. And second, I doubt he was telling the complete truth either and I don't want to give him the upper hand. If he had any reason to suspect this crew was not complete, that we were of two factions, he might see that to his advantage." "But we're not, Captain. What difference does it make?" Janeway shook her head, "I just don't want Jinar getting any ideas. Anything else? Then dismissed. Get some sleep. I want everyone on his toes tomorrow." With that last order, Janeway exited with Chakotay and Harry. As B'Elanna moved to follow, Tom grabbed her arm and held her back. "Hmm?" she asked. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone conveying his concern. She gave a short laugh and removed herself from his grip. "What do you mean?" "You seemed to find K'Fin pretty interesting. You know her?" B'Elanna looked down at the floor, back up at Tom, then at the door. She felt uncomfortably hot, her face burning red with embarrassment. Even more so because she knew he'd eventually push it out of her. *Why me?!* she asked herself. "Tom, it's nothing," she reassured him. "Just a stupid mistake. Everything's fine." She turned away and walked briskly towards the door. Tom's long legs carried him faster and he beat her to it. He wasn't going to let up. Standing with his back to the door, he blocked her passage. With a slightly teasing smile he said, "If it's nothing then why not tell me?" She gave him an apathetic look but didn't answer. Becoming serious again, in a quiet voice he said, "You looked almost scared." "Scared?" she said incredulously. "Or shocked. Do you know Commander K'Fin?" B'Elanna sighed heavily an
d looked up at his face. "No, I don't know her. I thought I did, but . . . no." "Who did you think she was?" "It's so stupid, Tom!" When his expression didn't falter she gave in. "She bears a striking resemblance to my mother," she rushed out. "Your mother? It isn't her, though, right?" "Gods, no!" She jerked away and moved closer to the door. "The similarity is there, but up close K'Fin is very different. Her attitude is nothing like my mother's, not to mention she looks about ten years younger." Tom turned to watch her. "I know you didn't have a very close relationship with your mother, but had it been her, would that have been so bad?" In her normal tone she asked, "If that were a Starfleet vessel out there and your father had been on board, how would you be feeling?" Tom considered his answer carefully and was about to answer when she came up to him and kissed him gently. "There's nothing to worry about," she told him, her smile genuine. "I'm going to bed. I want to be wide awake tomorrow when I take a look at those reports and sensory information. Harry and I should have a field day with this." She walked out grinning at the thought. Tom followed her example. K'Fin waited a second longer to be sure the transporter had released her before stepping down off the pad to follow Jinar. "Captain!" she called, catching up to him. He slowed his pace and waited for her to catch up. "Jinar, was it so wise to lie to the Starfleet captain?" "K'Fin!" He stopped and turned to her, pushing her up against the bulkhead. "You will NOT question my actions!" By now very aware of Jinar's short fuse, she lowered her voice. "What good does it do to lie about knowledge of their ship? You only dishonor us and put us in an unstable situation." "SILENCE! The only reason you are on board this ship is because you understand this wormhole nonsense. Remember that! You will hold your tongue when it comes to my command decisions or I will take it from you with my blade." With one last shove he moved away and started back down the corridor. Over his shoulder he called, "Prepare whatever information they will need and have it my hand and ready to beam over by 1300. You will remain here until you are needed; I will take it myself." Jinar left K'Fin on the bridge and entered his ready room. He compared the sparse confines to Voyager's more spacious surroundings, *Thank Kahless, we are nothing like those pampered Federations! We will be ready when the time comes!* He sat at his desk and removed his communicator pin. Taking a small instrument, he removed a tiny chip from the pin and placed the chip in his desktop terminal. An image of each officer present at the meeting appeared on screen. Jinar paused briefly on the image of Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres. *She may become the key to this whole operation!* "G'Ruhj, come to my ready room!" Jinar barked. He grunted with approval when G'Ruhj arrived with appropriate promptness. This Klingon was tall, but lanky. He demonstrated none of the brute Klingon strength, instead G'Ruhj moved with feline grace. "I am at your service, Captain!" the younger Klingon responded. "I have obtained images of Voyager's senior officers. Look in our database and find out everything you can about the ship and the crew! I know we rarely use those databases, but -- " G'Ruhj interrupted. "Captain, how did you obtain these images? Surely -- " "That is none of your concern! My first duty is to this ship and the Klingon empire!" "Yes, sir!" G'Ruhj responded. Privately he thought there was no honorable way for Jinar to have obtained these images. His slanted green eyes shielded his thoughts. "I want a complete report! Dismissed!" The young Klingon left the ready room and returned to Engineering. Before the turbolift's door closed, he met K'Fin's eyes. *Why was she not given this assignment?* he wondered. *Most rumors always begin in the same location,* thought Janine Lamont after she delivered next week's duty roster to Stellar Cartography. *On Voyager, rumors undoubtedly begin in one of the science sections, most often Stellar Cartography or Biology.* Engineering, security and command teams all had specific roles and duties to be carried out. Not so for Stellar Cartography. Indeed, mapping stars was virtually impossible while Tom Paris was taking Voyager through evasive maneuvers. Similarly the study of life could not be conducted in the vacuum of space. While most crewmen had crisis duties in other areas of the ship, a skeleton crew had to remain in the laboratories to monitor on-going experiments. Weeks of work could not be jeopardized just because Harry Kim thought he saw a wormhole and it turned out to be a routine gaseous anomaly. More importantly, the job of the crew was to stay out of everybody's way until the crisis was resolved. So while they hung on to their seats, they talked and speculated. "A cloaked ship is following us?" a Bolian crewman asked. "I bet it's the Borg!" responded Ensign Pavelich. "Don't be silly! A ship that big could never be cloaked!" Soon after the Klaxon fell silent, Jenny Delaney waltzed into Stellar Cartography and announced she had heard from someone in Biology who was dating a security officer who happened to be on the bridge, that a bird-of-prey had just decloaked. Again, this was dismissed out of hand. "Someone's been pulling your leg, Delaney!" Jenny Delaney could not help a smug smile when two Klingons were positively identified being escorted through Voyager's corridors by Tuvok and Simms. "Have you talked to Ethan lately?" she asked Ensign Lamont when Janine arrived with the duty roster. "No," Lamont replied warily, "Why?" "I just wanted to see if you had heard anything about the Klingons on board." "No, Jenny. I would have thought that you would have had the scoop by now," replied Janine wryly. "I just want some confirmation; you know how much I detest rumors!" "Uh-huh." The mess hall was packed during the dinner hour, and the Klingons were the only topic of conversation. When Mikel Hudson passed the galley, Neelix muttered, "I doubt they can taste my delicious Dashemin Jac'hastoq with all this talk of Klingons!" Mikel sat down at the same table with Janine and Ethan. "So, have you heard the Barzan wormhole dumped those two Ferengi back in the Delta Quadrant, and they orchestrated a mutiny on that bird-of-prey?" There was a brief pause before the three began laughing. Hours later, G'Ruhj completed his report for Jinar. He stretched at his station one vertebra at a time . His eyes narrowed in tiredness as he made his way to the captain's ready room. Captain Jinar had been correct in questioning the Federation captain's story. Even though the Klingon files were far from complete, they did contain enough information to point out inconsistencies. "Captain Janeway has an honorable record," G'Ruhj told Jinar and K'Fin, "as does Tuvok, the security chief. None of the remaining senior officers appears on the original crew manifest with the exception of Ensign Kim. Furthermore, there is nothing in our databanks about the ship or why she was in the Badlands." "Do you have any information on the others?" K'Fin prodded. "Yes, but there is not much." "Continue." "First Officer Chakotay left Starfleet about four years ago at the rank of Lieutenant Commander. He was rumored to have joined the Maquis. The helmsman, Paris, comes from an honored Starfleet family, but he was dishonorably discharged from Starfleet." G'Ruhj spat out distastefully, "According to our records, he should be in prison. Following his discharge, he joined the Maquis. He was caught and thus sent to a penitentiary on the island of New Zealand. I cannot imagine how he comes to be here in the Delta Quadrant." "Chief Engineer, B'Elanna Torres." G'Ruhj's voice purred as he said her name. "Our records show she entered Starfleet Academy, but there is no record of her graduation." G'Ruhj gazed at Voyager's chief engineer's image again. Usually half-breeds turned his stomach; the Klingon beauty bred out of them, but this one looked different. Jinar's scanner had caught her in profile. Although her human parentage softened her features, G'Ruhj found strength in her countenance. G'Ruhj's attraction was not lost on either Jinar or K'Fin. Each made note of it to encourage it for his own purposes. G'Ruhj snapped back to attention. "Of course, we have no record of the Delta Quadrant inhabitants Kes and Neelix. Why the Federations allowed those two to tag along is a mystery," G'Ruhj finished. "Undoubtedly, the two wanted to explore strange, new worlds and seek out new life and new civilizations," Jinar replied facetiously. "I have changed my mind. I think it important to establish a rapport with Voyager. K'Fin, I will arrange for you and G'Ruhj to transport over to the ship to discuss the wormhole technology with their half-breed engineer." His gaze strayed to the images on the monitor. "Prison, hm? And a Maquis rebel. I am going to invite their helmsman and fi
rst officer to partake of our . . . hospitality. I don't want any more Starfleet personnel other than them running around my ship just yet! They are too well-known for their curiosity. Dismissed!" G'Ruhj left the ready room, but K'Fin remained behind. "What are you up to? Do not alienate the Federations or they may prevent us from returning to the Alpha Quadrant!" Jinar growled, "Do not question me! If you do, you will not find the consequences pleasant when we return to the Alpha Quadrant." He entered the bridge and barked, "Establish a channel to Voyager." K'Fin moved behind him and growled low enough so only Jinar could hear. "You have threatened me twice today. You will not do so ever again. Remember, I am the only one who can return us to Qo'noS, and I am the one whose family sits on the Klingon High Council. Think of those consequences." "Janeway here. What can we do for you, Captain Jinar?" "I would like to send the wormhole information with one of my officers, Commander K'Fin. This is a ship with few conveniences, so the discussions should take place in a more comfortable site." "Fine. Tomorrow, shall we say?" "Perfect." At least he would get rid of that interfering K'Fin for a short time! With no further contact from the bird-of-prey, Captain Janeway relieved her senior officers from duty. The day had been long and Tom was pleased Janeway had let him off ten minutes early. He rushed back to his quarters to prepare dinner for himself and B'Elanna. He had left a message both in Engineering and her quarters asking her to join him at 1830. *That should give her enough time to clean up and get here*, he thought. Tom had made an elegant dinner for two: fettucini, garlic bread, and a dinner salad. Then, for a super special treat, a bottle of champagne. He took the present from his drawer. It was the one thing he had brought with him on this mission from his former life. The one thing he had from his mother. Tom had never thought he would ever be giving it to someone. Never thought he would find the love he had for B'Elanna. He suddenly realized it was almost 1840 hours. Where was B'Elanna? He knew she had received his message because he had made sure if she read it the computer would acknowledge it. "Paris to Torres," he said as he tapped his combadge. He waited and after a couple of moments she finally replied. "Tom, I'm sorry. I was just thinking and lost track of time. I'll be right there." Tom once again looked at his present. Was she thinking maybe things were not right between them? He set the present down on her plate, deciding to take a chance on giving it to her and letting her decide if things were going too fast. If so, he would respect whatever she wanted. B'Elanna approached Tom's door. All she wanted at the moment was to be with him and feel safe. She just hoped he wouldn't want to talk about that Klingon vessel and her reaction toward its crew. She had never been able to come to terms with her Klingon heritage, and she thought she had escaped ever having to deal with that side of herself again. Now here she was face to face with Klingons; not to mention one who resembled her mother. Just then Tom's door slid open and she heard his voice come from within. "B'Elanna are you there?" "I'm sorry, Tom. I just -- " "Shhh." Tom put his finger to her mouth. "Come on in and relax. Let's talk about work later." As she went into his quarters, she saw he had managed to get enough credits to do one of his special dinners. On her plate was a small present. *What could that be?* she wondered. "You like?" Tom asked. Janeway was sitting in her ready room when the call came in from the bird-of- prey. Captain Jinar was acting the same as he had when she had first encountered him. "Captain, I would like to invite your first officer Chakotay and your helmsman Lieutenant Paris to the Gin'tak to discuss with us the life forms you have encountered here in the Delta Quadrant." Janeway was a little disturbed by this; she was not about to send her first officer and chief helmsman onto a bird-of-prey with a captain whom she could not trust. "Jinar, why don't you come over here to discuss this with me, or we can even discuss it right now." She waited to see his reaction. "I am allowing K'Fin to come to your ship to give your chief engineer, Torres, the information we have on the wormhole." Jinar knew that would be hard for her to resist; he loved to see humans squirm. Janeway kept the same look on her face. "Well, I would consider letting them go if you will allow my security chief to go with them." She still did not like this; but with the wormhole information as advantage, who knew? Maybe she would be able to get her crew home. She knew she could trust Tom and Chakotay on the Klingon ship; however, could she trust the Klingons? "Captain I am sending K'Fin by herself as a show of faith and trust, so could you not allow Lieutenant Paris and Commander Chakotay to visit us as a show of yours?" Janeway still did not like it, but she knew Chakotay and Paris could also take care of themselves. That still did not make her feel any better. "Captain, are you saying you do not trust these two officers to come to my ship? I assure your men's safety and after all, you will have K'Fin, who has all the information for the making of the wormhole." Janeway finally gave her last option. "I will allow them to come over with two of my security officers; Ensigns Hudson and Simms. Otherwise I will have to decline." Jinar, knowing this was a battle of wills, and knowing he could take care of the other two security members, agreed to allow them to come along. "Then I will expect them at 0700 hours tomorrow, and I will send K'Fin at that time also, if that meets with your approval, Captain Janeway." He knew he had the captain all confused and thus had the upper hand in this charade. "That will be fine, Captain. I look forward to meeting K'Fin again and exchanging information." Janeway still did not like it, but they needed the information. Tom and B'Elanna had just started to sit down for dinner, when his combadge chirped. "Janeway to Paris: I will need to meet with you in 30 minutes in my ready room." "Yes, ma'am." Tom sighed. "I'm sorry, B'Elanna," Tom said, "maybe we can have a better -- " Just then, B'Elanna's combadge went off as well. "Janeway to Torres: I will need to meet with you in 30 minutes in my ready room." Before Torres could reply, Tom snickered a little too loudly and she knew the captain could hear him. She answered in haste. "Yes, Captain!" B'Elanna started to chastise Tom, but he grabbed her present off her plate. He wanted to wait till they had time together to give it to her, and he did not think now was the right time. "Hey, I think that's mine, Helmboy," B'Elanna stated half jokingly. She grabbed the present and quickly unwrapped it. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was a gold bangle bracelet with the inscription, "To the most beautiful woman whom I love." She did not know it, but this had been given to all the Paris wives in the past seven generations. His mother had given it to Tom just before she died. She was speechless. Why would he give her such a beautiful present? She did not deserve something like this; after all she was part Klingon and was not beautiful like the Delaney sisters. "So what is this for?" she asked sharply. She did not mean for it to come out so rude, however she was shocked and her Klingon emotions were taking over. No one had ever told her she was beautiful, let alone given her a gift to show it. "It's for you." "Well, we had better eat dinner and head to the meeting." She did not want to focus on the gift Tom was attaching to her wrist. Tom was not sure what to say or do, so they sat down and had a quiet dinner. Just as he had the first time he saw her he thought, *She is so beautiful and does not even know it.* Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay sat in the ready room. It would be five more minutes before Tom and B'Elanna would arrive. Janeway had mentioned to Chakotay that Tom and B'Elanna had been together when she had told them to come to the meeting. They would probably come together and then they could start. Chakotay looked at the captain in dismay thinking, *Why him of all people?* Janeway noticed Chakotay was trying to mask his feelings about the young couple. She knew he was not in favor of B'Elanna's and Tom's relationship and wondered if he weren't romantically interested in B'Elanna himself. After the time they had spent on New Earth, she had thought his interest in B'Elanna was more that of a father. Chakotay drew a breath to comment just as Tom and B'Elanna entered the room. Both Janeway and Chakotay saw the small bracelet on B'Elanna's wrist. Janeway smiled slightly. She made a mental note to ask about the bracelet later. She had seen it before, if she recalled correctly, in a picture on Admiral Paris' desk -- picture of his wife. It might be a family heirloom then. If this were so, she wondere
d if she would have to find larger quarters for these two soon. B'Elanna saw the slight shift of the captain's eyes and realized with a rush she had forgotten to take the bracelet off. She was out of uniform! "Captain, I -- " Janeway interrupted. Now was certainly not the time to bark at a valued senior officer for so small an infraction while off duty anyway. She went straight to the point. "B'Elanna, Commander K'Fin will be in Engineering at 0700 to brief you on the wormhole technology they have." Tom could see B'Elanna was bothered by this news and reached to touch her hand for support, which made Chakotay squirm. Tom was surprised B'Elanna did not pull away from his touch; he could tell she was in deep thought again. Janeway looked at Tom and said, " Lieutenant, you have been invited to visit the Gin'tak. Will you be ready to transport at 0700 with Commander Chakotay?" Tom was surprised she asked. "Yes, ma'am," he said casually. "I'll leave your orders here and Chakotay will fill you in on the rest. B'Elanna, I will meet you at 0630 here to discuss further details of Commander K'Fin's visit." Janeway thought it would be best to let Tom and Chakotay discuss their mission on their own. Who knew what would happen? There was something bothering B'Elanna and she knew it would be easier to discuss everything after a good night's rest. "Dismissed. I will see everyone in the morning." Tom and B'Elanna went back to their quarters and rested. Tom could tell she wanted to be alone and he respected her privacy. As soon as she entered the mess hall at 0545 hours, B'Elanna looked around to find Tom. Only a few people were having their meal at that early hour, and Tom was not visible. She could see Harry seated with someone at a table by the windows that looked out into the field of stars, but it certainly was not Tom. It was not until B'Elanna walked to Neelix's food line and grabbed a tray that she could see Kes' golden cap of hair behind Ethan Simms, who was breakfasting with Janine Lamont. "Good morning, Lieutenant Torres," called out Neelix breezily. "May I recommend some of this excellent Karvon fruit bread? It's just wonderful spread with a little of the bilisberry jam. And some arhrhmatha eggs, perhaps?" The name of this last dish sounded much like someone clearing his throat, and the food unfortunately resembled the results of that action. B'Elanna passed on the eggs but accepted the bread and jam along with Neelix's special coffee of the day. As she turned around, looking for someplace to sit, she noticed Janine's right hand softly stroking the top of Simms' left hand, her eyes sad even as she smiled into his face. *She's certainly not looking forward to his going over to the Gin'tak any more than I am having that woman come over here,* thought B'Elanna. As she started to walk to an empty table, Harry stood up and waved her over. "B'Elanna, come over and sit with us!" Kes gestured to the engineer as well. "Has Tom been here yet?" asked B'Elanna as she moved to their table. "Haven't seen him this morning, B'Elanna. Actually, from what he said to me last night, I'm not sure he's coming to breakfast. He was talking about eating in his quarters so he could review his orders." B'Elanna's disappointment showed clearly on her face. As she sat down with Harry and Kes, she took a sip of coffee, making only a slight face at the taste of the beverage while doing so. Looking at B'Elanna's tray, Kes questioned, "Aren't you having any water with your food?" "Why?" The Ocampa looked up at Harry, who gave an answering nod and walked off to the wall with the replicator and drink dispensers. "It's a good idea to have water handy when you're eating," she said. "It's excellent for the digestion and, well, at times it comes in kind of handy." By the time Kes had finished this odd speech, Harry was walking back from the water dispenser holding a glass of water which he placed on B'Elanna's tray. "Uh, thanks, Harry," said B'Elanna, at a complete loss about what had just transpired. At that moment, Harry's combadge beeped. He tapped it. "Kim here." "Lang here, Ensign Kim. I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I'm experiencing some difficulties at the Ops station. The readings are all fluctuating. It looks like an equipment malfunction." "I'll be right there, Lang. Kim out." Picking up his tray with the leavings of his meal, Harry told them, "Got to go. See you later." As he left, B'Elanna took a bite of the fruit bread and jam. Looking up, she realized Kes was staring at her rather intently. "What?" B'Elanna said a little sharply. "How is the bread?" Kes replied, with what appeared to be concern. "Fine," said B'Elanna, a split second before the burning sensation began in her throat. As her eyes widened, she grabbed for the coffee cup. Kes stopped her. "Use the water, B'Elanna. For some reason, the coffee makes it worse." She was right. The water eased the fires. Kes smiled as B'Elanna started to push the plate away from her. "Really, the bread is quite good. If you scrape most of the jam off and drink some water between each bite, I think you'll enjoy it. Just save the coffee for last." B'Elanna cautiously took this advice. "You're right, the bread is tasty. Just a little . . . tangy?" "I think explosive might be a better word, but don't tell Neelix I said so." As Kes shared this with B'Elanna, an elusive smile glimmered on her gentle, youthful face. B'Elanna had been speculating about the status of the relationship between the two Delta Quadrant natives now that Kes was living in her own quarters and no longer the partner of the Talaxian. She was not sure how she could broach the subject, but Kes did it for her. "Now that we aren't together any more, there are some things I feel awkward saying to him. Especially about his cooking; he's always been so proud of it." "I guess that's understandable." For a couple of minutes neither woman spoke, as B'Elanna ate her fruit bread and drank water while Kes sipped her coffee. "B'Elanna, do you mind if I ask you something? I've been meaning to come to talk to you about this, but we never seem to talk unless it's something about the doctor. The only other time you come into Sickbay is when you're injured or something, and then you're hardly in the mood for talking." "Sure. What did you want to ask me?" "I'm the only Ocampa on Voyager, of course, just as you are the only Klingon, and I wanted to ask you how you deal with being the only one. I knew when I asked to join with all of you that would be the case, but now I guess I'm feeling a little odd about it. I'm a bit lonely, and even though I have met some wonderful people here, there are certain things I can't seem to talk to them about." Since Kes' closest friends were currently a Vulcan, a hologram, and a former boyfriend, this admission was not exactly a surprise to B'Elanna. "What things?" she asked. Kes looked away for a moment before replying. "Well, I'm not living a traditional Ocampan lifestyle, and I have been feeling guilty. The Ocampa mate for life, and that's not going to be true for me unless things change a great deal between Neelix and me, and I don't expect that change. I hope we can go back to being good friends, but I can't see myself as being that close to him again." B'Elanna considered a moment before answering. "I'm certainly not an expert on love, Kes. But may I ask you something?" At Kes' nod, she went on. "You were only a year old when you came on Voyager, and you had already hooked up with Neelix by then, am I right?" "Actually, I climbed to the surface and met Neelix at the Kazon camp just before my first birthday." "I know an Ocampa's usual life span is nine years, but isn't one year still a little early for someone to settle down for life?" Kes shrugged her shoulders as she answered affirmatively. "What's the usual age?" "Two or three years old, I guess." Rueful smiles appeared on each of their faces at the same time. Kes acknowledged softly, "Yes, more at the age I am now." "Maybe you just--rushed things a little? I imagine you couldn't have had many boyfriends other than Neelix in your life. Most people find they pick a very different person to be with when they are a little older and have more experience than they did when they were very young. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself." "Are you speaking from experience?" "Unfortunately, yes." Having finished her fruit bread, B'Elanna began to sip her coffee. "I'm not sure how much actual picking I did, though. I wasn't exactly popular." "Why not? You're so pretty and intelligent." "And so Klingon to humans, and so human to Klingons. Half and half -- I never really fit in anywhere. You know my father left my family when I was a child, and my mother and I -- well, she wanted a Klingon warrior for a daughter. I inherited her wicked Klingon temper, but I certainly didn't measure up to her standards in other ways. She tried to mold me into her idea of a warrior, but I held back from what she wa
nted for me. I was a big disappointment, and finally she gave up on me. And boyfriends -- I never had a real date until I was at Starfleet Academy, and when I did have a few dates, I -- " B'Elanna hesitated before going on. This was painful to admit to anyone, let alone the trusting young woman who was sitting across from her. "I guess I didn't have the best taste in guys. They all seemed to want one thing. They wanted to see if, well, my Klingon 'nature' made up for my ugliness." "B'Elanna! That's awful. How could they? And you are beautiful, absolutely the opposite of ugly!" Kes' indignation was so genuine B'Elanna felt comfortable enough to continue her tale, ignoring what Kes had said. Kes was beautiful, she herself was not. "When I left the academy and worked as an engineer, it really wasn't any better. I kept everyone at arm's length, so at least I didn't have any more bad experiences. When I joined the Maquis, though, I did get involved with someone, and it was the same thing all over again. He just wanted to 'try me out' to see what being with a half-Klingon was like." "He's not on Voyager now, is he?" The look in Kes' eyes told B'Elanna he would be in serious trouble if he were anywhere nearby. "He was killed during the trip from the Badlands to the array." "Were all your boyfriends human?" "Yes. All the Klingons I met made it clear I was too ugly for them to even consider taking as a mate. Klingons are supposed to mate for life, too, you know. Honor, and all of that." Kes sighed, "B'Elanna, I'm sorry I even brought this up." "It's all right, for some reason I don't mind talking about this with you. I hope I've put it behind me. But I will tell you this -- everyone else on this ship may want to get home soon, but I could not care less. Everyone I really care anything about is on Voyager." "Especially Tom, right? He certainly thinks you are beautiful!" B'Elanna looked at Kes in surprise. How did she know that? Then she thought, *How silly of me. Tuvok has been working with her on her mental talents. She should know.* Kes grinned sweetly at B'Elanna as if divining her thoughts. "B'Elanna, it's plain to anyone willing to use their eyes how Tom feels, he just glows whenever he looks at you. No telepathic powers needed to recognize what that means!" B'Elanna felt herself flush up to the top of her ridged forehead. The words on the bracelet Tom had given her echoed in her head; *To the most beautiful woman whom I love.* Although B'Elanna knew Tom had once been attracted to the young woman before her, she did not think he had given Kes anything like it. B'Elanna was about to mention the bracelet to Kes when she realized how late it was getting. "I'm sorry, Kes. I have to be going. I have a meeting with the captain before the scientist from the Gin'tak comes over at 0700 hours." B'Elanna took the last sip of her drink and started to gather her dishes onto her tray. Kes followed suit. "I have to get to Sickbay myself. B'Elanna, I want to thank you for being so honest with me. I'm sure a lot of what you said to me had to hurt, but I really think you've helped me." "That's all right. I'm glad we did this." "I hope this isn't the last time we have a chance to talk like this." B'Elanna thought about how few friends she had, either male or female, and said briskly, "What do you think? Since we're the only ones of our kind on board Voyager, does that make us the same kind?" "Maybe it does," Kes agreed. The two women, so different in history and appearance, moved with equal grace out the mess hall door to the turbolift as they traveled to their respective duties. Captain Janeway smiled at her chief engineer as B'Elanna entered the ready room promptly at 0630. "Coffee, B'Elanna? I was just going to get myself a cup." "Thank you, Captain. I can use some to counteract Neelix's 'special blend.'" Accepting the cup of black coffee from her commanding officer, B'Elanna started to take a seat by the desk when the captain waved her over to the couch by the windows. The two spoke briefly about the need to obtain as much information about the wormhole generation process as possible. "Even if Commander K'Fin is right and we cannot use the information now because the conditions in this area of space are not favorable to the process, there's no telling when we might be able to use it in the future. Should we find different conditions elsewhere, perhaps a nascent wormhole we can encourage to open fully . . . . you understand, Lieutenant? Any knowledge that can increase our probability of returning home is valuable. But don't press the commander too far, and please, volunteer as little as you can about our history in either quadrant. Let's play this one as close to the vest as possible." "Understood, Captain. You really don't trust them, do you?" "If we had some means to check their information I would feel much better about it. A rupture of the Khitomer Accords, war and alliance between Cardassians and the Dominion -- frankly, I don't know what to believe. I've always been impressed with the Klingon code of honor, but as I mentioned in our meeting yesterday, Captain Jinar is not acting the way I would expect, given that code. He's hiding something, and I don't think his first officer liked what he was saying, or maybe what he was omitting. Perhaps having Commander K'Fin here by herself will allow us to ask her a few tough questions and get some straight answers. Do you think you can do that, Lieutenant?" The younger woman hesitated only a split second before assuring the captain she could, but it was enough. "B'Elanna, are you sure about this? When you asked to be excused from the meeting yesterday, I knew something about her was bothering you. Do you have some kind of history with this woman?" "No, Captain. I've never met her or even heard of her before yesterday." "Then what was yesterday about?" B'Elanna knew she could not conceal this from her commanding officer any longer. "It's just that at first glance, well, she resembled my mother so much I found myself experiencing all kinds of emotions I'd hoped I'd gotten over long ago. I was dredging up all kinds of memories that, I don't know, I guess I just ended up feeling like a little kid again, waiting for my mother to express her displeasure about all my shortcomings. Actually, from what I've seen of her so far, Commander K'Fin doesn't seem to really be much like my mother at all, except for looks." She paused and sighed, "It's pretty discouraging to feel these emotions threatening to take over again after all the work I've done to avoid them. I've been trying so hard for so long to conquer this temper of mine, but it's still there, ready to flare at any time." "Perhaps conquering what you call your temper isn't what you really need to do, B'Elanna. Whether you realize it or not, it's an important part of your strength of character, your qualities of leadership, even your creativity and unwillingness to give up when solving problems. Maybe harnessing your temper, making it work for you instead of against you, would be more important in the long run." "At least my Klingon side didn't jump out and break anybody's jaw this time." Janeway's low, resonant laugh caused a similar response in her lieutenant. The captain's expression became more serious again as she continued, "B'Elanna, may I remind you having a dual nature isn't exactly unique, even among people who are not born of two species? The legend of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde appears in many forms in Earth literature, in cultures throughout the Alpha Quadrant, for that matter. It's part of all of us. Think about just accepting it, and moving on." "I'll certainly try, Captain. It just seems to be one of those 'easier said than done' kinds of things." "You're right about that, Lieutenant!" Janeway conceded. Checking the time, the captain added, "I think it's time we appeared at the transporter room to greet our guest." Tom went into his bathroom, changed, quickly reread the orders on the datapadd, then reported to Transporter Room 1. Ensigns Hudson and Simms were already there. Tom looked at Chakotay and said, "You think we're going to run into a major problem, don't you?" "Just remember, Klingons don't take well to traitors." Putting a hand over his heart Tom said, "Commander, that really hurts," as he tried to hide the fact it actually did hurt. He wanted Chakotay's respect and, even considering everything he had done, he still didn't feel as if he had gained it. Since B'Elanna respected Chakotay so much, Tom wanted to make sure he had Chakotay's respect and trust, for he wanted his blessing when it came time for him and B'Elanna to marry. "Look, Paris, they've only asked for you and me to come. The captain finally got permission for Simms and Hudson to come along. I have a feeling they may know our history; that I've been out of Starfleet for four years and you've been in prison for being a traitor. I just find it a little strange Captain Jinar in
sisted only you and I come and not the captain, so we need to be on the lookout. I don't want any of your antics on this mission," Chakotay criticized. He just hoped B'Elanna realized what Tom was like before it was too late. *I wonder if I should ask her about the bracelet?* thought Captain Janeway as the two women strode to the turbolift. *I don't want to unsettle her, especially now.* Seeing the engineer was visibly relaxed compared to her mood on the previous day, Janeway decided to risk a comment. As they entered the lift, she casually mentioned, "By the way, I meant to compliment you on the bracelet you were wearing last night. I don't remember seeing it on you before." "Tom gave it to me. Actually, he was giving it to me when you contacted us about meeting you last evening. I'm sure you could hear him snorting in the background when I was speaking with you." "As a matter of fact, I could," chuckled the captain. "It is a lovely gift." The lieutenant could not keep from blushing, and Janeway decided not to pursue the subject further as they entered Transporter Room 1. The away team was already assembled and looked ready to depart. As Janeway walked over to her first officer, her helmsman positioned himself next to the engineer. They nodded at each, saying nothing aloud, but their hands brushed together softly, their eyes eloquent as each one met the other's eyes. Both the captain and Chakotay caught the look and exchanged glances of their own. In the barest of whispers the captain breathed, "Let it go, Commander." The first officer nodded acquiescence, but his lips tightened in disapproval. Hudson and Simms watched their superiors' interactions in absolute silence. As trained security men, they were used to interpreting the actions of others in body language as well as in words. Body language was speaking volumes at the moment. As the away team took their places on the transporter pad, the beep of a communications signal was heard. "Commander K'Fin is ready for transport, Captain," announced the transporter chief, Lonzo Zoomo. Responding to Chakotay's gesture, the shimmer of the transporter beam enveloped and spirited away the four Starfleet officers. Seconds later, the shimmering reappeared and coalesced into the figures of Commander K'Fin and a male Klingon. "Commander K'Fin," Captain Janeway greeted her somewhat coolly. "I had been told you were coming to Voyager alone." "This is second officer Commander G'Ruhj, Captain Janeway. He will be returning to the Gin'tak immediately." K'Fin's tone implied immediately might not be soon enough. "Captain Janeway. I asked only to accompany Commander K'Fin as an honor guard to your vessel. Also, I had heard you had a Klingon Chief Engineer. I wished to be introduced to her." He moved with liquid grace from the pad to stand toe to toe with B'Elanna, a feral gleam in his startling green eyes. The faintest hint of a growl could be heard as he confronted her. B'Elanna's first reaction was to belt him for his insolence, but she quickly contained herself. That could easily be construed as a romantic overture -- the last thing she wanted to encourage! Another tactic swiftly came to mind, triggered by a brief recollection of her breakfast companion. Summoning up every scrap of Kes-like ethereal sweetness she could muster and bowing her head ever so slightly in G'Ruhj's direction, B'Elanna murmured, "Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres. I am sorry to disappoint you, second officer, but I am only half Klingon." The male Klingon's scowl at B'Elanna's tepid response to his approach quickly transformed itself into a toothy grimace after he caught the stern look shot over to him by his commander. "I am corrected, Lieutenant Torres," he replied. Stepping back onto the transporter, he added, "I am ready to return to my ship." Seconds later, his form also dissolved in a sparkle of light. K'Fin watched them silently, observing the flash of B'Elanna's eyes as G'Ruhj disappeared. She decided this Federation half-breed was much more than she seemed; G'Ruhj still might serve some purpose. Turning to Captain Janeway, K'Fin said, "He was difficult to dissuade, Captain." "I understand, Commander." Janeway smiled more warmly at the Klingon scientist as they left the transporter room. "Lieutenant Torres will accompany you to Engineering. I'm afraid my place is back on the bridge, but our conference room is also at your disposal for your briefing. If you choose to work in the conference room later and if my duties permit, I would like to join you, if I may." "Of course, Captain. I look forward to it." Despite the pleasantry, K'Fin was clearly nonplused by the captain's comment. At the turbolift, the three parted company. As they took the lift down to Engineering, B'Elanna followed her orders and offered nothing to the Klingon Commander. Since K'Fin also said nothing at first, it was a quiet ride until the Klingon finally broke the silence. "Is Captain Janeway actually interested in the wormhole generation project, or is it just Federation diplomacy?" "She's very interested in your work. Captain Janeway was a science officer before she went into command. In a crisis, she's been known to come down to Engineering to help wrestle out an answer to a problem. She's pretty good with a hyperspanner, too. Captain Jinar isn't, I take it? As I recall, he said he was not very well versed on your project." "No." The bluntness of the response killed any further conversation until they reached Engineering. As Voyager's chief engineer displayed her warp engines with unconcealed pride, she could see the spark of envy in K'Fin's eyes. *I'll just bet we have something you need,* thought B'Elanna, *and it's my job to figure out what it is -- and what it's going to cost.* Tom felt reality rematerialize under his feet, and took a quick look around the bird-of-prey. It was dark, stark, and just a little too warm. *Karg actually got it right,* he thought to himself, stepping off the transporter pad. During his days at Starfleet Flight School, Tom had spent most of what little free time he had in the holosuites at an arcade run by a Ferengi named Karg. Tom and a few buddies from his squad had spent hours chasing and shooting at each other in holograms of various air and spacecraft -- everything from W.W.I Blerot biplanes to Vietnam era Cobra gunships to 23rd century YFighters. After they were bored with that, Karg had promised them a program featuring genuine replica Romulan and Klingon warships, and had even charged them an extra "finder's" fee. *For once, a Ferengi delivered on a promise,* Tom thought. He realized suddenly that if he had to, he could probably fly this killing machine. Captain Jinar stood waiting. "Commander, Lieutenant," he said, then stopped as the hum of the Klingon transporter beam was heard. Tom and Chakotay turned to see a tall male Klingon materialize behind them. He did not look at them, but went to stand next to Jinar. "Welcome to the Gin'tak," continued Jinar. "This is my second officer, G'Ruhj." Without further preamble, he turned and smashed his fist into G'Ruhj's face. Tom heard the sickening crunch. Hudson and Simms snatched their phasers from their belts, and Chakotay reached out to stop the captain should he try to make another blow. "That is for leaving the Gin'tak without permission," Jinar said coolly. Bright pastel pink blood poured from the Klingon's obviously broken nose. "Yes, sir," he responded. Tom felt a pang of sympathy for G'Ruhj. Tom knew Chakotay had no love lost for him, but he certainly didn't worry about sudden violent physical attacks from his superior officer. Not usually, anyway. "That looks pretty nasty," he said. "You'd better have your medic take a look at it." "We have no medical staff," said Jinar sharply. "Now, Commander, if you will come with -- " "No, this must be seen to," interrupted Chakotay. "Let us take your officer to our sickbay." "No. A Klingon warrior does not run yelping from every mere scratch. This way -- " "This man must be tended to," said Chakotay firmly. "I insist." Jinar studied the Starfleet officers, realizing this unexpected show of sympathy might be worked to an advantage. The plan had always been to split them up and learn if they could be useful. "Well, if one of you wishes to -- " "I will," said Tom. "I've had some practice with things like this." G'Ruhj turned away and Tom followed him. Chakotay glanced at Simms and jerked his head almost imperceptibly at the departing figures. Simms followed them both. They were approaching the door to G'Ruhj's quarters before the Klingon uttered his first words. "Watch your -- " WHACK! Tom saw stars as his forehead thwacked across a stout metal bar installed across the door frame. "It is for exercising the arm muscles. Our facilities are limited. I apologize. I do that myself sometimes. It doesn't hurt." *Well, of course not, with a forehead like THAT,* thought Tom crossly, rubbing his bruised brow. "You don't happen to ha
ve a dermal regenerator handy, do you?" "A dermal regenerator," G'Ruhj repeated slowly with obvious distaste. "Never mind," replied Tom. *Great. How am I going to explain this?* He turned to Simms and said sarcastically, "Watch your head, Ensign." "Aye, sir." G'Ruhj's quarters were cramped and nearly devoid of furnishings, with only a narrow cot, a small table, a chest, a computer terminal, and surprisingly, a few books. One wall was covered with wicked looking swords and knives, and an ornate bat'telh was centered on the wall above the bed. "Nice place," said Tom. "Very cozy. Who's your decorator? The Marquis de Sade?" "I am G'Ruhj of the House of Tebit," the Klingon said abruptly, ignoring Tom's remarks. "Paris, of the House of . . . Paris," responded Tom. *Well, that sounded lame.* G'Ruhj dug around in the chest and came up with a wad of polyfilament fiber. "I know your name," he said haughtily. "Well, doesn't everybody," snorted Tom, suddenly tired of being someone everyone thought they knew before they had ever met him. G'Ruhj grunted and began stuffing the gauze up his nose. "It will be difficult to set this straight without a mirror." "Hey, don't sweat it. You'll look good crooked. Scarier. Klingon women will adore you." G'Ruhj gave Tom a cold stare. "You talk too much." "You're actually not the first person to tell me that, but she was a lot cuter than you are. Here, let me." As gently as he could Tom pushed the Klingon's nose bone back into place. He knew he must be causing the man excruciating pain, yet the Klingon did not even flinch. "You are the son of a Starfleet admiral." "Yes, and the grandson of one or two and the nephew of two or three, and the -- well, you get the picture. So what?" "You take no pride in your family." Tom felt his temper rising. This was getting annoying. "Why are you so interested? Why are you asking me all these questions?" "I have asked you no questions," G'Ruhj replied, wiping the bloodstains off his leather tunic. "Oh." Tom realized he was right. "I do not know all your story," G'Ruhj admitted. "I know you were Starfleet, then you were found guilty of treason for serving in the Maquis. You are a traitor twice over, then, since now you again wear Starfleet insignia on your collar. You appear to be a man who can be bought." "Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving, can't they?" Tom retorted. He strolled over to the bat'telh, determined to change the subject. "Cool sword." "It was my father's, and his father's before him." "Can I hold it?" G'Ruhj narrowed his brilliant green eyes and studied Tom's blue ones for a full ten seconds. Then, without a word, he turned and pulled the bat'telh off the wall, twirling it gracefully in his hands. Simms readied himself, but the Klingon simply turned the instrument of death handle outwards and handed it to his guest. "So you see, Commander," said Jinar sipping his raktajino, "we are in great need of haste. We must return to the Alpha Quadrant immediately, as I am sure we are sorely missed. Of course, if we can open a nascent wormhole we will invite you to travel through with us." "Two ships at once might destabilize the wormhole. Why take such a risk?" "You are Maquis. You fought the Cardassians, did you not? They have made very powerful allies in the last few weeks. There is war in the Alpha Quadrant, Commander. I am sure your help is still desperately needed by the border colonists, and Voyager is a powerful ship. Your enemies are our enemies." "But not necessarily my captain's." "Ah, yes. Your captain, Kathryn Janeway," said Jinar loftily. "Tell, me, Commander. How does it feel to follow a woman's orders?" Chakotay's contact with Klingons other than B'Elanna was limited, but even he knew they were not generally as sexist as this. "She is a fine officer -- the best I have ever served with." "She must be good, or you'd all be dead. More coffee?" Chakotay could tell he was being baited, but decided to play along. They needed to know exactly what these Klingons were up to. "Paris! What are you doing? Do you consider your various appendages expendable? You will cut something important off if you continue this way. I tell you again, keep your arms up!" "We need more room," Tom complained. "The Gin'tak is a bird-of-prey," snapped G'Ruhj. "There is no more room. Give it to me." Tom handed the bat'telh back to the Klingon. At the last moment, he gave it a reasonable facsimile of the twirling flourish G'Ruhj had done. Unfortunately, the twirl included a rather large wobble. He grabbed it to regain control, and got a slice across his palm for his trouble. "Come back to Voyager with me. We can work out on the holodeck. You can show me some more moves," said Tom, watching the dark red blood ooze out of his injured hand, so different from a Klingon's. G'Ruhj reverently put the sword back on the wall. Tom saw the interest kindle in his eyes. Obviously there was something on Voyager he wished to know more about. "You seem to be very interested in the ways of a Klingon," he said, tossing the roll of fiber to the lieutenant. "Hey, you're not living if you're not learning. Why did you go to Voyager this morning? You were not expected," replied Tom, making a rough bandage around his cut. "I wished to pay my regards to your captain," replied Commander G'Ruhj. It was not in his code of honor to lie, so he added, "and I wished to meet your chief engineer." "B'Elanna? What for?" "B'Elanna," replied G'Ruhj slowly, repeating the name as if tasting it. "She is half-Klingon." "Some days more than others," replied Tom. A warning bell sounded in his mind, and he was suddenly sorry he had invited the Klingon to visit Voyager. He heard a popping noise and realized it was an opening comm link. Jinar's voice was heard. "G'Ruhj, shall I assume from this prolonged absence that you have bled to death and a new second officer should be named?" "No one has bled to death yet. I will attend you within the minute, Jinar." "No. Show the lieutenant around the Gin'tak. Jinar out." Tom took a last look at the bat'telh. "Don't you ever worry that thing will fall off some night and kill you in your sleep?" he asked. "Perhaps it will," replied G'Ruhj grimly, "but a warrior does not go into battle without his weapon." *Oh,* thought Tom. *And here I thought you said this was a scientific mission.* There wasn't much to see on the Gin'tak. It was built strictly for war, not scientific exploration. The few Klingon soldiers they passed in the narrow corridors looked respectfully at Commander G'Ruhj and scowled at Tom but said nothing. There were no holodecks or hydroponics bays. The only thing of any interest at all was a small shuttlecraft tucked away in one tiny cargo bay. Tom had never seen anything like it. It was sleek, with powerful little warp engines, and looked extremely maneuverable. His hands itched to try it, but G'Ruhj didn't offer him a test drive. G'Ruhj paused outside some double doors. "This is Main Engineering," he said as he passed through. Tom looked around curiously. A few engineers glanced up, but quickly bent back to their tasks. "Funny, when you think 'engineers', you don't always immediately think 'Klingons,'" he mused aloud. Heads again snapped up, this time with sharp glances. "Well, at least I don't," he added. Maybe it was time to shut up. Tom studied the warp core. It was the paralithium powered type, and thrummed softly as he stood watching. He sniffed. There was just a hint of a sharp tang, like ozone maybe, in the air. Had they had a plasma leak, perhaps? He strolled around the core, looking up, trying to find the source of the trouble. Unfortunately one of the Klingon engineers had been working on the containment field generator under the core, leaving the hatch open in the floor. "Have you -- haaaa!" "Lieutenant!" shouted Simms, making a grab for him, but it was too late. Tom opened his eyes to see four heads, three Klingon and one human, looking down at him from above. "Can you stand, sir?" Simms asked. "Yeah," said Tom, wincing as he stood up. G'Ruhj reached down and hauled Tom up with one arm. "I think we should go to the canteen. It is nearly time for the noon meal." "It is my sincere hope, Commander, that we can work together to return to the Alpha Quadrant," said Jinar gravely. "I certainly believe the attempt to be worth the risk." "That remains to be seen, Captain," answered Chakotay. "Perhaps you will join us for food. You and all your men are welcome to share what we have." "It's not gagh, is it?" asked Tom. "I'm allergic to gagh." "It is pipius claw," said G'Ruhj. "It is good. Eat it." Tom glanced sideways at Simms. Both men looked doubtful. "It's not alive, is it?" Tom asked. "I prefer my food dead." Heads swiveled in his direction. "Is this blood wine?" "Do you intend to stop asking questions long enough to eat?" snapped G'Ruhj. "Actually, my favorite for lunch is peanut butter and jelly. You don't have any, do you? PB and J with milk to drink." At this, ey
es rolled up and one Klingon actually made a noise of disgust. "But I'm sure this is great too," he continued. He closed his eyes and took a bite, chanting a mantra in his head, *think chicken,* swallowed, then immediately changed his mantra. *Think oysters.* "Lieutenant," said Chakotay coming into the cramped room. "The captain has ordered us to return to Voyager." "Yes, sir -- ah!" said Tom standing, forgetting his damaged ankle. "What's wrong with your foot? And what happened to you hand? Oh, never mind. Tell me later." Tom turned to face G'Ruhj. "Thanks for showing me around." He picked up the cup of whatever. "Um, glory to the House of Tebit," he said, and drained it. The hum died away and Jinar turned to G'Ruhj. "Well? What about the pilot?" "No." "Are you sure? What about his record?" "I cannot say about his past, but he would not now betray his comrades. He is no mercenary." "No, neither is the other. So. We must find some other way." "This is dishonorable." "This is necessary. We MUST have control of Voyager." "So you were able to counteract the graviton wave problems the Trill experimenters encountered by changing the shield resonance signatures?" B'Elanna studied the sensor readings on the computer display carefully. There was something about them that seemed familiar, but the more she tried to recall where she had seen readings like this before, the more the recollection seemed to back away from her. "Once the harmonics from the shielding were synchronized with the magneton pulse, the wormhole was stable enough for traveling, but only at half-impulse speeds; and of course, the warp bubble completely disrupted the wave patterns from the probe. If we had not been almost out of the other end of the wormhole, we would have been destroyed when the other ship was." Leaning forward, K'Fin pointed to the readings indicating the fluctuating waves of subatomic particles that led to a burst of energy, marking the collapse of the wormhole. Without being conscious of it, B'Elanna and K'Fin both settled back to the same positions on their chairs at the work station in Engineering as the sensor readings told the tale of the implosion. "As you can see by the wave pattern here, the Gin'tak survived only because the end of the wormhole became distorted and pulled away from the rest. As it dissipated, the texture of space in this area became unfavorable for recreating the wormhole effect." "Too many residual particles expelled by the wormhole's breakdown?" "Yes, exactly." The Klingon scientist looked at the engineer in approval at her quick grasp of her work. "Why not move off to another area of space and start over?" "Repairs to the Gin'tak were necessary. We plan to try this in the near future." A wariness appeared in K'Fin's eyes for a moment, and she turned her attention back to the viewscreen away from B'Elanna. She seemed on the verge of saying more but held her tongue. "Yet you were able to travel at warp speeds and even use your cloaking device when you were following us." B'Elanna did not bother to add that the Gin'tak had traveled a considerable distance while cloaked. The part of space where the two Alpha Quadrant ships were now located was highly unlikely to have enough residual traces from the destruction of the wormhole to interfere with recreating the experiment. "The generators for the magneton pulse are still damaged." K'Fin was clearly uncomfortable, and B'Elanna knew that while she was trying to tell the truth in the strictest sense, there was still much being left unsaid. To pursue the subject would be a risk, but it seemed to be a risk worth taking. "Assuming, of course, that the Gin'tak's generators CAN be repaired well enough to create a magneton pulse of sufficient magnitude. That's why you need Voyager." *Only half-Klingon might she be, but extremely intelligent nonetheless,* thought Commander K'Fin. She met B'Elanna's gaze unflinchingly and nodded assent, realizing she would not need to spell out the danger this fact represented to Voyager's crew. B'Elanna looked back at the sensor readings on the screen as she determined her plan of action. She needed to speak with her captain about this immediately, yet it bothered her that there was still something right in front of her that she was missing. B'Elanna studied the sensor readings again. "What are these chroniton particles doing here? Did you have to compensate for them, too?" "No, Lieutenant Torres. As you can see, they were not much in evidence during the Trill experiments, so we did not even think about compensating for them." This new bit of information apparently cleared B'Elanna's mind; she had been grasping at the elusive memory before, and this time she was able to make the connection. Grabbing her personal index data padd, she quickly pounded out her code for wormhole encounter dates, plus one other significant event that had occurred to Voyager's crew. Becoming visibly excited, B'Elanna crisply called out, "Computer, split screen and display sensor log readings for stardates 48579.4, 50074.3, and 50312.5." For several minutes B'Elanna analyzed columns of data as they flowed down the screen side by side with the figures from the Trill experiments. K'Fin studied the statistics avidly as well. Neither of the women spoke more than a few words, although occasionally each pointed to the screen as a correlation in the data on each half of the screen could be made. Finally, B'Elanna grinned up at the Klingon scientist. "Commander K'Fin, I cannot believe I was so stupid not to see this before. Do you have any objections to sharing these findings with my captain?" "Not at all, Lieutenant Torres," she said, with a fierce grin of her own showing, never having dreamed that the Federations would have this kind of information to be shared. B'Elanna tapped her combadge. "Torres to Captain Janeway." "What is it, Lieutenant?" "I hope you're not too busy on the bridge. Commander K'Fin and I have some interesting things to show you in the conference room." "I can meet you in ten minutes in the conference room. Janeway out." After giving the captain a brief overview of the experiments K'Fin had worked on with the Trill scientists, B'Elanna ceded the floor and the viewscreen to the Klingon commander. The human captain's eyes strayed to her engineer on several occasions as K'Fin spoke in greater detail. The Klingon scientist noticed her two listeners exchanging vivid expressions with each other, as if they were speaking in a sign language or some kind of facial code. As the streams of data were displayed side by side by Federation stardates, K'Fin could see the captain become as excited as her chief engineer had been. Finally, the captain laughed a loud, hoarse, "Ha! Now I understand about that tiny time warp wormhole. I wonder how many more of those there may be around." "Yes, Captain. Bits of pieces left over from experiments, and scattered in various locations and times. And the basic instability of the 'natural' wormholes, too. Do you think all of them are results of the experiments? Are any of them truly natural?" "Who can say? Unless we can find something that is distinctive in radiation signatures, something that can be measured so we can compare them, it would be difficult to say which pieces end up where, or when, for that matter." "It gives me new respect for the prophets of the Bajoran wormhole, the entities who manage to keep that one so stable." "Yes, indeed, Lieutenant, it certainly does." "The time ship -- Captain Braxton -- do you think this is why Voyager had to be sent back to the Delta Quadrant? Instead of leaving us near Earth, at least?" "He also must have known about the Gin'tak's history." "So we had to meet here? How ironic that is. Or was? Using time travel terminology is almost as bad as getting involved with it in the first place," groaned Janeway. K'Fin could stand no more. "What in the name of Kahless are the two of you talking about?" "Sorry, Commander. As I'm sure you've guessed from these sensor log readings, we are privy to some information to which you and the Trill could not possibly have had access." Janeway took several minutes to describe Voyager's experiences speaking with a Romulan scientist through the tiny wormhole, only later to discover he was living 20 years in the past. B'Elanna picked up the narrative with the story of the two Ferengi who had flown into a supposedly stable wormhole in the Alpha Quadrant during negotiations for development rights that were taking place on the Enterprise-D. The wormhole had not in fact been stable, however, as the end snapped between various locations like the tail of a whip. The Ferengi had made maximum profits while marooned in the Delta Quadrant, taking advantage of the local populace of a relatively primitive planet by posing as prophets described in the people's legends. When their scheme had been found out and they had been captured, the Ferengi had managed accidentally to destroy the worm
hole during their escape from Voyager, ruining the chance for a shortcut home. After B'Elanna had concluded her description of the Ferengi incident, Janeway continued, "Obviously, if one or both ends of wormholes can become untethered and land you somewhere you don't expect, it isn't much of a stretch for the wormhole to become untethered in time, also. The wormhole is, after all, a disruption in the time-space continuum. That IS what happened to you, I take it. You certainly didn't plan on coming to the Delta Quadrant. And what about the time factor? Is that what broke off the end of the wormhole the Gin'tak was in?" K'Fin gaped for a moment at the captain before she was able to choke out, "In a matter of a few minutes you and Lieutenant Torres have figured out on your own what required three days of explanation to Captain Jinar, and I am not sure he really accepted all of it until we compared our chronometers to your stardates, which was proof of it." "The chroniton particle readings were a dead give away, Commander, and of course, we did have our own information to provide us with clues you couldn't have had. So, how much time did you lose -- or was it gained?" "We exited the wormhole seven linear time days prior to entering it; and you are right, of course, about the rest, too. We expected to be a mere three light years from Qo'noS when we came to the end of our journey. Jinar was most discontented when he learned where we were." The Klingon woman sat down heavily in the conference room chair before asking, "What is this you are saying about this Captain whomever person? Who sent you BACK to the Delta Quadrant? I do not understand this at all." "It's a long story that I do not think we should go into in too much detail. Suffice it to say we have some knowledge, and even a piece of equipment that came from our future, that we probably must not share with you. What is relevant and which I believe we must share is that the sensor readings of the time rift that was responsible for our time travel incident had readings remarkably similar in key ways to readings in the artificial wormhole experiments. Captain Braxton was a temporal officer from the 29th century who caused us to come back to this present from our Alpha Quadrant Earth's past -- I truly do hate trying to talk time travel, it is ALWAYS so confusing. He obviously had some reason to send us back here to the Delta Quadrant, since we asked him to leave us near Earth when he returned us to our time. Because he refused, there must be some task or tasks that make our presence here still essential. I think, and Lieutenant Torres also thinks," Janeway looked at B'Elanna, who gestured affirmatively so the captain knew they were both thinking along the same track, "that these experiments at least potentially will pave the way to the technology used by our time-traveling Captain Braxton." "If you are to be pivotal in a time travel discovery, then why should he not have brought you back to be in the Alpha Quadrant?" "Maybe the discovery will take place in the Delta Quadrant, or our impact on someone in this quadrant may also be pivotal to future events. Perhaps it is not we who will pave the way for any time travel advances as such. It may be that you yourself will be the one to make the discoveries, or someone you come in contact with later. We may have had to be in the Delta Quadrant so that you could obtain our data when you landed here to add to your own and bring it -- wherever. Home to Qo'noS, to the Trill scientists or to whomever. There is really no way to know which scenario is the one that has happened in order to create Captain Braxton's time-line." Captain Janeway sighed. "As I've said, I simply HATE time travel paradoxes, and here we are, smack in the middle of a dandy one." "Kim to Captain Janeway. Captain, we need you on the bridge. There's something we need you to see." "I'm on my way. Janeway out." She turned to K'Fin and B'Elanna. "Duty calls, Commander. My scientific investigations will have to wait a bit." After Janeway walked through the doors to the bridge, K'Fin turned to Voyager's chief engineer. "You are right about your captain, Lieutenant Torres. A pity such a fine scientific mind was turned to command. I can see why a Maquis warrior such as yourself could hold allegiance to such a one as her." From B'Elanna's sudden confusion, K'Fin knew she had hit the mark. "Your insignia, Lieutenant Torres. I recognize your Maquis rank insignia just as well as I do the Starfleet rank buttons on Captain Janeway's uniform." B'Elanna did not know what to say. They picked up several scattered padds on the table in silence before B'Elanna was able to suggest, "It's lunch time, Commander. Will you accompany me to our eating hall?" K'Fin agreed. B'Elanna hoped fervently the menu of the day included something the Klingon scientist would find edible. As they walked to the turbolift, the engineer berated herself for the silly oversight. After she had tried to be so careful about not saying anything about the Maquis or Starfleet or a divided crew, the facts were plain for any observant person to see. Voyager's crew had advertised the fact themselves, just by the pins they wore on their collars. Tom stepped off the transporter pad, and let out a relieved sigh. "That was . . . certainly an original meal," he commented to Simms. Ethan managed to stifle a laugh as he commented, "You certainly seemed to enjoy it, sir." That was a complete lie of course; from the look on Paris' face, he had certainly not been happy eating Klingon food. Running his hand through his bright red hair -- god how he hated it -- Simms offered, "Do you want me to help you to Sickbay for the doctor to get a look at your ankle and your hand?" "Ha," snorted Tom, with a slight look of disgust, as he limped toward the door. "And give him the satisfaction of knowing I managed to injure myself once again? I don't think so, Ensign. Besides, 'A Klingon warrior does not run yelping from every scratch,' and neither does a Paris." Before Simms could object, Tom limped out the door. Ethan shook his head, letting his last thought go unsaid. *But you're not a Klingon warrior.* In the mess hall, Commander K'Fin stared in revulsion at the big blob sitting on her plate. "What is this?" she demanded, glaring at the lump of food. Most species thought Klingon food was inedible, but as the humans said this "took the cake." B'Elanna tried not to smile at the horrified look on K'Fin's face as she gazed at her own red blob. "It's really not as bad as it looks," she replied, trying to sound convincing, but it was futile. Even she, after three years of Neelix's food, couldn't stand to eat this. "Just be glad you aren't going to turn purple." "Purple? I was not aware eating human foods caused Klingons to turn purple," said K'Fin, suspiciously poking at her blob. How was she supposed to eat this? It looked as if it were alive.and jiggled every time she touched it, but it was obviously not a living natural thing. She found that rather unnerving. "No, not Klingons, but Ensign Kim became ill and turned purple after eating breakfast a few weeks ago," explained B'Elanna. "I don't think it affects Klingons the same way; I was fine when I ate it." "Well, perhaps, your body chemistry is different; after all you are only HALF- Klingon," sniffed K'Fin, waiting to see B'Elanna's reaction. She could not figure out this young engineer. When B'Elanna had met G'Ruhj, it appeared she was going to punch him, as a true Klingon would have, because of the insolent tone G'Ruhj had taken with her. However, she had backed down and acted like a mere human. It was rather puzzling, almost as if B'Elanna had two halves, one Klingon and one human. Pushing the thought away, she asked, "What is the name of this . . . delicacy?" "Gelatin," replied B'Elanna, trying not to appear insulted by the half-Klingon remark. It wasn't so much the statement, it was more the tone that had angered her, as if she weren't good enough because of the human blood in her, but she would not give K'Fin the satisfaction of seeing her riled up. "It's some kind of human dish Commander Chakotay submitted the recipe for. All the humans appear to love it, but I can't seem to develop a taste for it. They lovingly call it 'Jell-O.'" Pushing away her tray of dead gelatin, K'Fin stood up with a look of disgust. "I must report back to the Gin'tak anyway. I will return to Voyager in four hours." "All right," agreed B'Elanna. "Four hours then. I don't need to escort you to the transporter room, do I?" asked B'Elanna condescendingly, deliberately looking up at K'Fin as if she were looking at a child. "I'll be fine," retorted K'Fin, understanding the obvious insult. Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the mess hall, almost colliding into a limping Tom Paris. Walking over to B'Elanna's table and taking a seat, Tom gazed at K'Fin's plate with delight. "My favorite, B'Elanna. You must be telepathic --
I'm starved!" he exclaimed, taking a big bite of the quivering red mass, and hiding his cut hand under the table. "How you can eat that stuff is beyond me," sighed B'Elanna, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. "Besides, I thought you told me your favorite food was marshmallows." "They are, they are," said Tom, trying to talk through a mouthful of the wiggly stuff, "but this is a close second." Finishing up the last of it he asked, "How did it go with Commander K'Fin?" B'Elanna's disgusted look evaporated as she remembered the discoveries she and K'Fin had made, and a big smile came over her face. "Well, we discovered the wormholes are -- why are you staring at me like that?" she demanded. Tom had stopped eating, and was now gazing at her with a strange look in his eyes. "You . . . you are so beautiful when you talk about something you're passionate about," he answered, still gazing at her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. B'Elanna flushed, and looked down at the table. No one had told her that before. Clearing her throat, and trying to look as if Tom's remark hadn't affected her, she said, "Tom, there's something I need to talk to you about." "What is it?" asked Tom, now beginning to eat the gelatin on B'Elanna's plate. *I don't remember doing anything stupid today.* "Well, it's about -- " B'Elanna stopped in mid-sentence. It looked as if everyone in the entire mess hall were hanging on to her every word. Rising to her feet, she tugged on Tom's arm. "Come on, let's go to the hydroponics bay." "All right," agreed Tom, stuffing the last cubes into his mouth. It was one of the only dishes Neelix made without leola root and he wanted to savor it. He followed B'Elanna out of the mess hall, still trying to think of what he had done she would be upset over. On the Gin'tak Commander K'Fin stepped off the transporter pad, her nose still wrinkled from the wobbling cubes. *How humans eat that thing is definitely beyond Klingon comprehension,* she thought. Exiting the room, she headed toward the canteen to eat some decent food. *Hopefully there'll be some fresh gagh to eat today.* Halfway there, she almost collided with Captain Jinar. "Ah, Commander K'Fin, I was just coming to see you. What did you find onboard Voyager?" greeted Jinar. K'Fin let a low growl of triumph come from her throat. "We discovered the wormholes are really -- " "No, not about those wormholes, about Lieutenant Torres!" demanded Jinar, looking annoyed. "Lieutenant Torres, she's a strange one," began K'Fin. "When I deliberately baited her to see what her reaction would be, it looked as if she wanted to hit me, but she managed to control herself. Obviously Lieutenant Torres has a lot of self control. I'm guessing she's not prone to frequent bursts of emotion. If anything, she seemed like she had some Vulcan blood in her," K'Fin snorted. She had little respect for Vulcans. What was the use of having all that strength if they didn't use it? "G'Ruhj did not find anything useful on this Lieutenant Paris, either," scowled Jinar. He did not like the way things were proceeding at all. "And Commander Chakotay was of no use at all." "Captain Jinar, I still think this plan is too dishonorable," started K'Fin. Jinar silenced her with a deadly glare. "I am captain of this ship, and you will do as I tell you. It is not open to debate! You are dismissed." Giving her one last angry stare, he stormed off in the other direction. K'Fin glared at his retreating form, and then headed toward the canteen. Jinar was the captain of the Gin'tak, and she had to follow him, but once they got back to the Alpha Quadrant, she would be in power, for she was the one with family on the Klingon High Council, not Jinar. B'Elanna stepped into the hydroponics bay and glanced around. No one was there; Kes was in Sickbay at the moment. B'Elanna took a seat on a bench by the viewport, and patted the empty space next to her. "Have a seat, Tom." Tom looked at her slightly warily. B'Elanna looked way too serious for him to be comfortable. Taking a seat and hiding his hand behind his back he asked," What did you want to tell me?" Taking a deep breath, B'Elanna decided to cut right to the chase. "It's about the bracelet." "What about the bracelet?" demanded Tom, beginning to panic. *What's wrong with the bracelet?* "It's just that . . . it's not true. I can't accept something that has lies written on it," blurted out B'Elanna, turning as red as one of Kes' Tarkalian tea roses. She glanced away, and then turned her gaze towards the stars. "What?" Tom was flabbergasted. "All the bracelet says on it is 'To the most beautiful woman whom I love.' B'Elanna, you know I love you. I thought you knew that." "No, not that. The other part." "You mean 'the most beautiful woman?'" Tom reached up and turned B'Elanna's face toward him. She still refused to meet his gaze. "You ARE the most beautiful woman I know." "No, I'm not beautiful," insisted B'Elanna. "Kes tried to tell me the same thing, but I can't believe her because I know the truth!" Jumping to her feet she began to pace back and forth, just like she had on the Borg ship. Tom watched her silently for a few moments, trying to find an explanation for why she was acting this way. "B'Elanna, you are beautiful. You're absolutely gorgeous. Who would tell you anything other than that?" B'Elanna stopped pacing, and stood pretending to examine the roses. With her back to Tom, she laughed bitterly. "Who didn't tell me?" Memories of Javier washed over her, and she tried to push them to the back of her mind thinking, *I told myself I would never think of him again.* Tom gritted his teeth against the pain of his sore ankle and managed to hop over to B'Elanna. "Who told you?" he asked firmly. It looked as if B'Elanna hadn't spoken about this to anyone, and it might do her some good if he could get her to talk to him. "I don't want to talk about it! Are you going to take back your bracelet or not?" "First of all, it's your bracelet now, and I'm not going to take it back because it's absolutely true! Every single word of it. Now, are you going to tell me who made you think you weren't beautiful?" Tom's voice left no room to argue. B'Elanna had never seen him so stubborn before, except when they had met up with the Kyrossi and he had become determined to save them from the Vyarri. "All right, I'll tell you," snapped B'Elanna angrily. If he wanted to hear the entire sordid story, fine then, she would tell him. The only person who knew about this was Chakotay, and when she had told him she had been dead drunk. "It was with this guy named Javier," she began. "Go ahead," encouraged Tom, all ears. Taking another deep breath, B'Elanna continued her tale. "It was before I turned 18, and it was back on Kessik IV. I wasn't really in love with him, but at the time it didn't really matter. He told me he loved me, and that he cared, and that was all that mattered to me. I was so happy, but then -- " Her voice broke off. "But then?" prodded Tom. Vague memories began to swim through his head. Not his own, but B'Elanna's -- leftovers from the Borg assimilation they had shared. He had a strange feeling he knew how this was going to end. "But then one day I caught him in the arms of another woman." B'Elanna stubbornly brushed away the tears that threatened to fall. "I just stood there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open. He just looked at me and laughed. He told me, 'It's just a game, Chica, just a game.' Then he started kissing the other woman again, right in front of my face." This time the tears began to fall, but B'Elanna didn't bother to brush them away. She turned to face Tom, who was looking absolutely astonished. "That's when I lost it. I pounced on him, and I started beating him -- punching him, kicking him, doing whatever I could to hurt him, just like he had hurt me. It took five of his friends to drag me off. Even as they dragged him away, all he kept shouting at me was, 'You're lucky I paid you any attention, you ugly half-breed! Why don't you go back to the Klingons? You're too ugly to be a human, no one will ever love you with those ridges on your forehead!'" The tears became more like a waterfall as they rolled down B'Elanna's cheeks, but she managed to keep her voice from shaking. "So, that's why, Tom. Forgive me if I don't believe you when you tell me I'm beautiful." She began storming away, determined to go down to Engineering and make everyone's life a living hell. "B'Elanna, wait!" shouted Tom chasing after her, forgetting about his ankle and his hand. He caught up with her before she exited, grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around to face him. Before she could say anything, he began to ramble. "B'Elanna, I know what you went through with Javier was very painful. But I'm not Javier! I think you're beautiful. You are the most gorgeous woman in the entire Delta Quadrant. I love you, and I'm never going to leave you. Tu es ma belle femme!" he shri
eked. "You're my Bella!" "I'm your what?" asked B'Elanna, taken back by his tone. He sounded deadly serious. "You are my beautiful woman, you are my Bella," translated Tom lowering his voice and taking B'Elanna's hand in his. "Bella means beautiful in Spanish and Italian. I'm serious about this, Bella, I think you're beautiful. Why won't you believe me?" pleaded Tom. "You . . . really think I'm attractive?" asked B'Elanna, uncertainly. "YES!" cried Tom, becoming slightly exasperated. Maybe she would finally understand. "You are." "You mean it?" "Of course. If I'm wrong you can spoon feed me leola root stew for the next sixty-seven years," deadpanned Tom. A smile broke over B'Elanna's face. "You do mean it," she said incredulously. Taking her face in his hands, he planted a soft kiss on her lips. "More than anything. If I have to prove to you that you're gorgeous, I'll tie you to a chair and give you a thousand kisses," threatened Tom jokingly. "Sounds like a dirty job," remarked B'Elanna. "It is," agreed Tom, nodding his head. "But someone's got to do the dirty work." He pretended to examine her. "You know, I think you still don't believe me. I think I'm going to go ahead with it." "If you have to," sighed B'Elanna, keeping her smile locked inside. "I have to," said Tom with the utmost seriousness. He leaned forward again and kissed her. "One." He kissed her again. "Two." B'Elanna could no longer stand it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close, and planted on him the longest, most drawn out kiss in the entire history of kissing. "One thousand," she concluded, pleased to see that his face was bright red, and that he was gasping for air. "So I take it this means you'll keep the bracelet?" *If she says no after all this, I'm going to throw myself out the nearest airlock!* "I'll keep it," promised B'Elanna, still looking slightly uncertain. "Thank you, Tom." "It was nothing you don't deserve." *I am going to convince her, until she does not have a doubt in her mind,* decided Tom, but it would wait until another day when he could save up enough replicator rations. "Now tell me what happened to you hand." "It got cut a little." "Well, come on, and I'll fix it." B'Elanna gestured toward the door. "People are going to start wondering." Linking her arm with Tom's, they walked out of the hydroponics bay, the two most satisfied people on Voyager, with Tom's face still cherry red. Jenny Delaney walked down a corridor bored out of her mind. Nothing interesting was going on at the moment. True, she could have her pick of guys whenever she wanted, but they were all just too boring. There was no new gossip either. There had been the Klingon bird-of-prey, but it was old news now. *What I need is something new, something totally unpredictable -- like Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres walking out of the hydroponics bay arm in arm?!* Jenny blinked her eyes just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Yes, it was them, arm and arm, and Tom's face looked bright red. "Oh, this is good," smiled Jenny aloud, and she changed direction and headed toward Deck 11 Holodeck 2 where Neelix's resort program was running. "Wait 'till everyone hears about this!" Tom walked in silence for a few minutes, until he realized something. "Umm, Bella, where are we going, anyway?" B'Elanna turned to look at him as if he had grown two heads. "To my quarters, Helmboy, where else?" "Bella, I had no idea -- " B'Elanna shot him a warning glare. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Paris, we're going to fix you up and watch 'A Briefing with Neelix.' Because of the Gin'tak, he's putting it on this afternoon instead of in the morning like he usually does." "I didn't know you were a fan," commented Tom. "Does Neelix know?" "Absolutely not!" snorted B'Elanna. "He tried to get me on the show once, but I refused." "What did he want you to talk about anyway?" Somehow Tom couldn't picture Neelix asking B'Elanna to talk about the recent repairs to the plasma conduits or something to do with engineering. B'Elanna heaved a sigh. "He wanted me to talk about Klingon mating rituals." "He what?" Tom burst out laughing. "Why in the world would he do that? Did he have a deathwish or something?" he choked out between giggles. If it hadn't been for B'Elanna's grip around his arm, he probably would have collapsed on the deck. "Be quiet before you make me take matters into my own hands," she threatened as she entered her quarters. Tom stumbled in after her, clutching his stomach, still chuckling. *It's amazing what he finds funny,* she thought to herself, diggin around in a drawer and coming up with a dermal regenerator. She tossed it to him. Switching on her monitor she collapsed onto the sofa and glared at Tom. "Are you going to stop laughing now?" Tom stumbled over, his laughter reduced to little snorts. "I'm okay, really. Just one thing. What did you tell him when he asked?" "That if he ever asked again, there was going to be a mysterious accident while he was cooking," answered B'Elanna casually. "Figures," mumbled Tom. "You know, I bet that's what happened, and that's why I burned that twelve kilo -- " "Shhh, it's starting," she interrupted, her eyes fixed on the screen. Tom managed to keep his grumbling to himself and attempted to pay attention while working on the cut. On the monitor, the visage of Neelix popped up. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, I'm coming to you live from my resort program. I thought you might want the guided tour to find those little hidden spots I programmed in," explained Neelix, gesturing around. "But before I do, I want to share a little information with you, a tip I was just given by a very reliable source." The camera pulled in closer to Neelix's face, so close all his spots were countable. His tone turned confidential. "I just want to say congratulations to a certain red-shirted lieutenant junior grade and a gold-shirted lieutenant, an engineer, who were seen coming out of the hydroponics bay looking VERY, VERY cozy. It's about time they got together." Neelix smiled and rubbed his spotted hands together in delight. "Now, first I want to show you -- " "Computer, shut off monitor," ordered B'Elanna, jumping to her feet and looking as if she were going to punch the bulkhead. "I am going to kill him!" "Calm down, Bella, maybe no one will figure out who it is," offered Tom. B'Elanna's eyes shot daggers at Tom. "Oh sure, like no one will be able to tell who the red-shirted lieutenant junior grade and the gold-shirted engineering lieutenant are!" "I don't see why you're so upset. I mean, unless you don't want anyone to know." "No, it's not that," said B'Elanna, once again pacing around the room like a caged lion. "It's just -- I'm a very private person, and I don't want the whole ship to know about us when I don't even know what's going on between us!" "Look, Bella," began Tom, getting to his feet and putting his arms around B'Elanna's waist, "this is a very small ship. Everyone is bound to find out sooner or later. And about us -- I'm not saying we should move in together next week or anything, but still, I'd like to think, and let everyone know we're a couple. You know, Tom and B'Elanna, B'Elanna and Tom, Paris and Torres, Torres and Paris . . . ." "Yes, I get the idea," sighed B'Elanna, leaning back into Tom's embrace. She breathed in the comforting scent of his musky aftershave, and tried to get a hold of her anger. "It's just that Neelix telling the whole ship isn't exactly the best way to let everyone know. Am I making any sense?" "Yes, you are," comforted Tom, stroking her hair. "But that doesn't mean you have to go out and kill Neelix. If you're going to kill him, it should be because of his leola root, not because he let everyone know about our relationship." He kissed her neck. "Okay?" "Oh, all right, I won't kill him," sighed B'Elanna, feigning reluctance. "But can you do me a favor?" "For you, Bella, anything." "Shut up and kiss me." "Oh, you are a slave driver," grinned Tom. Turning B'Elanna around, he began to kiss her slowly but passionately. *If Harry interrupts again, I will kill HIM,* was Tom's last thought, as he lost himself in B'Elanna's kisses. Captain Jinar sat in his quarters brooding over his plan. Why couldn't those weak Federations make it easy for him? He had the feeling Commanders G'Ruhj and K'Fin had not tried hard enough. All humans were weak at the core. If his people couldn't find the weak spots . . . . Well, he was stuck in the Delta Quadrant with this crew, and he would have to make up for their incompetence. He had a new plan. If he thought about it, it was probably a better plan. Yes, this plan would definitely work. He rose and left his quarters to brief his crew. Tom's mind was on fire. He was kissing B'Elanna slowly, gently, wanting to savor every sensation. As he ran his hands along her back, B'Elanna let out a little moan. Tom's heart picked up speed and he found he almost couldn't breathe. He moved his mouth down alo
ng her jawline, softly nipping his way to her neck. B'Elanna was breathing in gasps and she let out low growls as Tom bit her jawline. Tom caressed her back as his mouth found its way to B'Elanna's throat. B'Elanna arched her back and let out a gasp. "Oh, Tom," she murmured in a low breathy voice. She fumbled with the zipper on his uniform jacket, her hands trembling with the urgency to feel his bare skin. He stepped back and tossed the uniform jacket to the floor and pulled his turtleneck over his head, throwing it by the jacket. B'Elanna looked him over appreciatively and stepped back into his arms. A shiver went through Tom and he let out a gasp. B'Elanna felt goosebumps rise on his bare flesh and for some reason it excited her even more. She kissed his neck, nibbling here and there, her hands relishing the feeling of his chest. Tom's mind exploded. The feel of her lips, her hands, the taste of her mouth, the smell of her hair, it all combined to leave him almost dizzy. He cradled her in his arms, never wanting to let her go. B'Elanna was busy sucking on his ear lobe, driving him near insane as he felt the puffs of her breath in his ear. B'Elanna growled softly in to his ear. "God, Bella," he whispered, "you have no idea what that does to me." "Oh, I think I might," she whispered into his ear. She kissed him long and hard. Tom let out a groan so guttural it was almost a growl. It rocked B'Elanna to the core. She had to taste his mouth again. Their lips met with passionate intensity. "Chakotay to Torres." Tom jumped and dropped B'Elanna, who hit the floor with a thud. "Are you all right, B'Elanna?" Chakotay's voice asked over the comm. "I'm fine, Commander. What can I do for you?" B'Elanna replied evenly. Tom was impressed that her voice gave no hint as to what had been going on. If it were him, he'd be stuttering and stammering. "The captain and I need to speak to you." "Now?" B'Elanna asked rising off the floor. "If it's not a problem." B'Elanna looked at Tom. "No, Commander. I'll be right there. Torres out." "I swear," Tom fumed as he pulled his shirt back on. "It's a ship-wide conspiracy." B'Elanna sat in Janeway's ready room with the captain and Commander Chakotay. "And then we went to the mess hall for lunch," she concluded her report. "She decided gelatin was not a Klingon food and went back to the Gin'tak. We are supposed to reconvene in . . . " B'Elanna glanced at Janeway's chronometer, "about an hour and a half." "Very good," Janeway said. "Thank you for all the effort you're putting in, Lieutenant. I think that about wraps this up. Report to Commander Chakotay after you and Commander K'Fin finish your work this evening." "Yes, Captain," B'Elanna said, rising. Chakotay also rose. "If we are through here, "he said, "I've got to head over to help Harry reconfigure our shield array." "Dismissed, Commander," Janeway said. Chakotay left and B'Elanna took a step to follow. "B'Elanna," Janeway said, stopping her. "Yes Captain?" "I know I might be over stepping my bounds, but this is my ship and you are a member of my crew." B'Elanna looked at her expectantly, feeling a little apprehension. "I heard a rumor about you and Tom and, well, to put it bluntly, what IS going on between you? If you don't mind my asking, that is." B'Elanna took a breath. "It's true," she blurted out. "We are a couple." She hadn't expected it to come out so easy, but here, like this, it was more like Kathryn and B'Elanna -- just two friends. Janeway leaned forward. "I thought so, especially after I saw the bracelet." "The bracelet?" B'Elanna asked. "I first saw it in a picture on Admiral Paris' desk. It was a picture of Tom and his mother. The bracelet was so beautiful that I had to ask about it. Admiral Paris told me it had been in the family for generations. Then he explained how it was passed from mother to son, each wife giving it to the oldest son who then gave it to the woman he was going to marry. It's a beautiful tradition. I had a feeling things were getting serious between you and Tom when I saw you wearing it." B'Elanna felt the room closing in on her. How could Tom have given her such a gift? A gift given to the women the Paris men wanted to marry. She had to talk to him. She took a deep breath. "Well, we are definitely together," she managed to get out. "I have got to get to Engineering and prepare for the commander's return." "By all means, B'Elanna," the captain smiled. "And B'Elanna, tell Tom I said congratulations." While B'Elanna was speaking to the captain and Chakotay, Tom sought out the company of Kes. He found her in the kitchen helping Neelix. The two Delta Quadrant natives were talking amiably and working on the food for the night's meal, while Tom stood to the side and watched. Neelix tasted a soup he was working on. "It needs something," he decided. "I think . . . glermark. Yes, definitely glermark. Too bad we don't have any." "Actually," Kes said with a smile, looking up from the sauce she was stirring on the stove, "I've been growing some in the hydroponics bay. You could go get some if you'd like. I can manage here until you get back." "Kes, you are a great friend," Neelix said as he headed for the door. "I'll be right back." After Neelix left, Kes turned to Tom. "Would you help me by stirring this until it boils?" she asked with a smile. Tom was a little startled, but stepped to the stove, taking the spoon from her. "Now," Kes said as she got pots and bowls out, "What did you want to talk about?" "Oh, I didn't come to talk," Tom said quickly. Realizing how stupid the lie was, he continued, "I came to . . . ." He looked at the small Ocampan girl. She had proven herself to be a good friend and a great listener. *Oh, what the hell,* he thought, " . . . talk to you." Kes let out a musical laugh. "Well, I'm here," she said. "When you were in the Kazon camp, did they make you feel . . . ugly? Useless?" Tom asked softly, stirring a little faster. "Yes," Kes said simply. "Did you believe them?" he asked, stirring faster. "It was hard not to," she remarked, lining up ingredients on the counter. "When you hear from everyone that you are something, it takes a lot to realize you're not." "But you believed Neelix," Tom pointed out, stirring faster. "That took quite a bit of work on his part," Kes said, noticing Tom was stirring the sauce so quickly that some was slopping over the side of the pot. Tom stopped stirring, turning with the spoon in his hand, dripping sauce on the floor. "How much work? What did he say that finally convinced you?" "Tom, the sauce," Kes said. He turned. It was boiling over the sides. "I'm sorry," he said, taking it off the burner and putting it to the side. "That's all right," Kes said with a smile, feeling relieved he was away from the stove. "Could you come here and help me get down the Grolian flour from that top shelf?" Tom strode over and reached up to a shelf just above his head. The bag was heavy and Tom started to tug on the end to move it. "It wasn't what he said," Kes said, resuming their conversation. "It was the way he looked at me. The belief in his eyes. The way he treated me." "What if that hadn't worked?" Tom asked, tugging harder. "It's not something that happened overnight. Neelix was very patient and VERY persistent." Tom gave the flour one final tug, and the end of the bag came off in his hand. A small shower of flour trickling over him. "Oh, Tom!" Kes exclaimed, trying not to laugh. He was coated in flour. "I'm all right," he mumbled. "Could you get me a cloth?" Tom retrieved the flour for Kes and cleaned himself off as best as he could. Kes was putting all the ingredients in a bowl to make cookies for the evening meal's dessert. "Are things all right between you and B'Elanna?" she asked, stirring. "How did you know that's what this was about?" Tom asked picking a little of the dough out of the bowl. Kes just smiled at him. "It's not our relationship," he sighed, picking out more cookie dough. "She was hurt by people telling her she was ugly and when I tell her I think she is beautiful, she can't believe me. I just want to know how I can convince her." "YOU can't!" Kes said. "She will come to trust that you believe it, but it will take time." "But she's NOT ugly," Tom said, fishing out more cookie dough. Kes was starting to lose her patience. He had already made a huge mess and now he was eating all her cookie dough. She softly slapped his hand as he tried to get more. Tom's face flamed a little and he smiled sheepishly. Kes laughed. "You just need to give her time. She feels ugly and alone. She is the only Klingon on Voyager. Just love her the best you can and she will come around." "Thanks, Kes," Tom smiled, absently snagging more cookie dough. "TOM!" "All right!" he laughed. "I'll go. Thanks again." Kes just smiled after him, then let out a sigh as she surveyed the damage he had done to Neelix's kitchen. Tom left the mess hall and decided to look for B'Elanna. Just as he was about to
ask the computer where she was, she came storming around the corner. "Bella!" he said with a smile. "I was just looking for you." "Tom," she began without acknowledging his greeting, "I can't take this bracelet." "What?" Tom asked, feeling like he had just been punched. "We've been over this. You deserve it. It's yours." B'Elanna whirled to face him. "That was before -- " She stopped mid-sentence. "What is that all over your lips?" she asked with a bewildered look on her face. Tom blushed slightly and looked at the floor. "Cookie dough," he said to the floor. Captain Jinar sat sprawled behind the cramped desk in the space that served as his ready room, thoughtfully fingering a wicked looking kut'luch. *I must proceed very carefully. I cannot risk being challenged by G'Ruhj for command of the ship. He is dangerous and he has the heart of the crew in his hands.* His eyes narrowed at the clang of the door sound. He slipped the kut'luch back into its hiding place in his tunic. "Come," he barked. Sub-Commander T'Taj, ship's navigator, strode in. He was tall -- not as tall as his good friend G'Ruhj, but broader and heavier. He had fair hair, with a short cropped beard, and he had an uncanny ability to detect dishonesty. He came from an ancient and proud house of distinguished soldiers, was known for his straightforwardness, and was one of the finest warriors Jinar had ever seen. Jinar knew that T'Taj hated him to the core. "You summoned me," he said to Jinar shortly. "The first officer has told you to accompany him to Voyager." "Yes." "Do you know why he wishes to go?" "Some nonsense about helping to teach one of their officers the art of the bat'telh," he replied. Clearly he had little respect for this idea, but Jinar knew he would not have told G'Ruhj that. T'Taj had sensed that G'Ruhj was not telling him everything, but had trusted his friend and not asked questions. "Yes, I thought G'Ruhj would shield the truth from you. He knows how you feel about dishonorable men." "The Federation is dishonorable?" "Paris is his name, and he is indeed dishonorable. I have researched his background thoroughly. He is not what he pretends to be. He is a cold- blooded assassin. He killed three of his colleagues -- over a woman perhaps, he seems the type -- and he got away with murder because he is the son of a Starfleet admiral. He escaped into the Maquis and he seems to have hidden the truth from these other foolish Federations. You know how they are." T'Taj studied his commanding officer. He felt uneasy about this story, as he did about most things Jinar said, yet could not find in Jinar's words any outright lie. He said nothing. Jinar continued. "Whatever we personally think of these Federations, they are allies. They are weak, and they should be protected from this monster. I want him brought here, where he can be made to answer for his crimes." "Does G'Ruhj know this?" Jinar was very careful. "He knows of Paris' background. I want G'Ruhj to go through with this charade, to facilitate Paris' removal to the Gin'tak. Let G'Ruhj occupy his attention. Then choose an opportune moment, grab Paris and signal the ship. We'll keep a transporter lock on you and beam you all off." "What business is this of ours?" "You think it is honorable to allow a murderer to walk as a free man?" "No, of course not -- " "And there is the half-Klingon engineer," Jinar interrupted. "He seems to look on her with a predatory eye. Do you wish her to be dishonored?" "Certainly not." "You have your orders. I expect them to be obeyed. Qapla'!" "Cookie dough," B'Elanna repeated. "Paris, your face is a mess." "Wanna kiss it and make it better?" he said reaching for her, but his heart sank. "Paris" usually meant trouble. She blithely stepped out of reach. "Forget it," she snapped. "Some things are beyond even me." "Worth a try, a least." "Can't you be serious for one second? The captain told me about the significance of this bracelet-- SHHH!" Tom now could also hear the voices approaching from beyond the corner, Mikel Hudson and Ethan Simms by the sound of it. "Here, quick," she said. Grabbing his arm she pulled open the door of a storage closet recessed into the wall behind him and shoved. "Get in there!" "What? Why? Ow! Watch it, Torres, I've got a hurt foot." "Oh, poor baby," she said still shoving. "Move it, Helmboy." "All right, all right! Don't get your panties in a twist!" "Shh!" she repeated in a whisper, jumping in behind him and pulling the hatch shut. "I'm tired of my personal life being the talk of the ship!" "Ethe, what say we grab some chow before they get here?" "You had a good whiff of Klingon food and you still feel like eating? Mikel, there is definitely something wrong with you." "Oh, I know. Pipius claw, bleh. Pipiuses must live under rocks or something," Hudson replied. The two security officers stopped just in front of the mess hall doors. "I'm glad they didn't offer me any. I can't believe Lieutenant Paris actually made an effort." "A BIG effort. Mik, did you notice there was something . . . weird going on over there?" "Well, like the captain says, weird is part of the job." "I don't mean everyday weird. I just got this feeling they were . . . I don't know . . . hiding something, maybe. Somehow the whole thing just felt wrong to me." "Yeah, I noticed that. I started to put it in my report, but I didn't think Tuvok would be too interested in human hunches." "Come on," said Simms moving away. "If you felt it too there must be something in it. Let's find the lieutenant and convince him to be interested." Their voices faded away. The last thing B'Elanna could make out was a faint, "He really got cut on a bat'telh?" "You got that cut on a bat'telh? Let me see." Tom crossed his arms akimbo, clearly not in a co-operating mood. "No." "How did you hurt your foot? And what happened to your head? You're getting a bruise there." "It's nothing." "Don't tell me it's nothing. You know every time you set foot off this ship you come back damaged. I want to see, now!" "Leave me alone," snapped Tom. "I don't need you hovering over me!" "Well, I don't need you giving me jewelry I can't accept!" "Are we back to that again?" "We never left it!" Outside the mess hall doors Jenny Delaney pulled up short. Voices seemed to be coming from the wall. She leaned in closer so she could hear better, but she need not have bothered. In another few moments it was obvious to her who it was -- Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres -- and what they were doing -- arguing. *Finally,* she thought. "So," said Captain Janeway, leaning back in her chair. "We know they are being less than honest. That alone is enough to raise our suspicions. They want something from us, Chakotay, but what? Why don't they just ask? I don't like it." She glanced up as Tuvok entered the captain's ready room, noticing the side arm he wore. "Tuvok? What is your take on all of this?" "I have nothing to offer but speculation, Captain. Obviously the Klingons want control of Voyager, but for what purpose? If they merely wish to return to the Alpha Quadrant as we do, why all this -- " "Cloak and dagger stuff," finished Chakotay. "Literally, Commander. Captain, I strongly advise against allowing any of the Klingons to return here." "I understand and share your concerns, gentlemen, but if there is even the slightest chance we can get back to Federated space we owe it to the crew to explore the possibility. Every possibility, even one as risky as this must be considered. I trust the engineer, Commander K'Fin, at least, and she alone is returning here. Tuvok, you're already on the alert and fully armed. I think you can handle one unarmed female Klingon of middle years." The attempt at humor was lost on the security officer. He gave his captain an annoyed look, but accepted her decision. "Nevertheless, I think we should keep an armed security detail with the Klingon every moment she is here." "No," the captain said firmly. "Captain?" Chakotay was now fully alarmed. "Commander, we have to find out what we can from these people without insulting them. So far they have done nothing more than give us the willies. Klingons are allies and until they prove themselves to be enemies, they must be allowed the common courtesies." "Kathryn, surely -- " The captain held up a warning hand. "We will be vigilant, Chakotay, but we must not provoke a fight. This wormhole technology -- don't you see? If it does not succeed then we'll still be marooned in the Delta Quadrant, but with a warship -- a Klingon warship -- that could decloak at any time and pick us off like a sitting duck. We must avoid that. On the other hand, if it works -- " "You think there is actually a chance?" "From what Lieutenant Torres and I saw of the commander's work, I'd say there is an excellent chance. The sensor logs indicate they created and traveled through a wormhole. Although B'Elanna and I both have reservations about their being completely honest about the details, we h
ave evidence from our own experiences in the Delta Quadrant that the theory and methodology are probably sound. I doubt we would have reached these conclusions on our own, without knowledge of the Trill experiments, but the facts are there." The captain briefly described to Chakotay and Tuvok B'Elanna's insights about the similarity of K'Fin's readings to their own encounters with the Romulan officer T'llec Ramour, the wormhole ruined by the Ferengis Kol and Arridor, as well as the implications of their adventures with Captain Braxton. "Time travel, Captain?" inquired Chakotay. "There is absolutely no doubt the Gin'tak jumped back in time several days. I spent the last two hours reviewing our computer database and found a number of past incidents, most of them involving various incarnations of the original Enterprise, for some reason, which are highly suggestive that time traveling may be far easier to control than distances when a wormhole is artificially generated." She did not bother to include her private suspicions that "artificial" was an unnecessary qualifier to describe a wormhole, since Tuvok and Chakotay were already exchanging inquisitive glances with each other about what she had said. Janeway was prompted to add in response, "Gentlemen, are you having problems accepting the validity of these concepts or is there something lacking in my explanation of them?" "I'm sorry, Captain. It has nothing to do with you," said the Commander, looking a little abashed. "I was just considering the way Captain Kirk was always so quick to jump into any adventure that presented itself. It is not much of a surprise the Enterprise was involved in so many incidents. But weren't most of his time traveling experiences supposed to be by the 'slingshot around the sun' technique?" "That method was discredited long ago, if I recall, Commander," commented Tuvok, "since others who attempted to use the technique usually failed, even though Spock's equations were scrupulously followed." "B'Elanna and I have a possible solution to the 'slingshot' phenomenon problem." Noting that the quizzical lift of Tuvok's eyebrows was not disappearing, Janeway changed the subject. "Tuvok, do you have something other than wormhole theory you want to discuss with me?" The only sign that the Vulcan lieutenant may have been uncomfortable was the slight shift of his weight from one foot to the other. "Your studies of the database may explain why we failed to see you eating lunch in the messhall. You recall, Captain, the doctor has specifically requested you not miss any more meals." "Do my nutritional needs now fall within the purview of Ship's Security, Tuvok?" The barest hint of a smile crossed her features. "As a matter of fact they do, Captain." "Then the fact I had enough replicator credits to provide myself with a sandwich and a glass of milk should satisfy Security's concerns for my eating habits." Tuvok's slight tip of the head and smoothing brow was his only acknowledgment of her statement. Out of the corner of her eye Captain Janeway could see her first officer stifling a laugh without being able to completely eradicate his own look of concern for his captain. She sighed inwardly and decided both of them had had as much of a briefing on temporal mechanics as either one was likely to tolerate for the time being. "B'Elanna and I have a lot more to consider before sharing our theories with you. As to the Klingons, let's hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Is there anything else you wish to discuss before Commander K'Fin's arrival, gentlemen?" "Captain, it seems you should be free to work with B'Elanna and the commander this afternoon. I will take over bridge duties for you." "An excellent idea, Commander." "Would having Harry work with you help?" "Undoubtedly it would, but his time might be better spent checking out the Gin'tak a little more. No active scanning, mind you, but there is no telling what tiny scrap of information might turn out to be important to us." Tuvok turned to Chakotay. "Mr. Kim might also benefit from speaking with Ensigns Simms and Hudson this afternoon, Commander. They both came to me with some vague 'hunches' that had occurred to them during their visit to the Gin'tak to which they did not think I would give credence when they first returned to Voyager. Since both have had the same 'hunches,' however, it would appear they were in actuality observing certain facts or inconsistencies during their tour of the bird-of-prey that may prove useful in the future." "Agreed, Lieutenant Tuvok. After we receive Commander K'Fin, send them to the bridge to talk over their observations with Harry." After giving approval for some more actions of a more routine nature, Janeway dismissed her senior officers to their duties. She walked over to the seating area of her ready room and stared out at the stars hanging around Voyager and the Gin'tak. From their preoccupation with other issues during the briefing, Janeway doubted that either Chakotay or Tuvok was ready to accept as yet there might be no such thing as a "natural" wormhole at all -- just the remnants of past experiments left over in various times which only appeared to be natural because the discoverers had had no knowledge that a technology that could form them could exist. It was quite a leap, even for her. The fact she was beginning to think time travel might be easier to control than distance through a wormhole was an even more radical leap. *I need to bounce these ideas off B'Elanna and K'Fin before letting anyone else hear them,* thought Janeway. *But if I am right, Kirk's landing so many times in the twentieth century suggests some kind of focal point for that time period existing in that area of subspace. Our own excursion to that time along with Captain Braxton is also evidence of that. Kirk's 'slingshot' time travels may have actually been made possible by accidental collisions with one or more remnant wormholes in subspace rather than by any 'gravity slingshot' equations. They did seem to have some control of the time leaps during their trips, though; Spock's equations might bear closer scrutiny after all.* The captain sighed and turned to the wall where her replicator was located, ordering herself a chicken salad sandwich and a glass of milk. No sense in making a liar of herself. She knew Tuvok would be checking up on her and probably would be properly aghast, without being willing to admit it, of course, that the time stamp on her request was later than their conversation about her lunch. Chakotay would probably check, too. *Mother hens, the two of them,* she thought with amusement. *I guess I'm rubbing off on them!* Picking up a padd she turned her attention to the original Enterprise's encounter with the Guardian of Forever while munching on her sandwich. One moment, no one was in front of Jinar's desk. The next, he looked up to see Qas slouching casually against one end. The man undeniably had a talent for what he did, and he did it so well. Jinar looked up into the coldest pair of eyes he had ever known; the coldest, and at the same time, the most observant. "Are your plans in readiness?" Qas asked Jinar. "They each assume the other is in agreement with me. I have identified Paris as the one who must be eliminated because he is a traitor. G'Ruhj is skeptical about this, but his attraction to the engineer has him off-balance enough to consider it as a possibility. T'Taj is completely loyal to G'Ruhj. On my orders he will capture Paris because he believes what I have told him about Paris being a murderer who is a danger to his own ship and captain, as well as to us." "Honest men are so easy to manipulate," commented Qas as he cleaned his fingernails with a sharp knife. "And if they fail you, Jinar, I will not." His fierce grin was accompanied by a slight growl. Jinar had always suspected Qas received a perverted kind of satisfaction from a plan well executed, or from an execution, for that matter. He certainly had never shown any interest in acquiring a mate. Such a useful quality in an assassin and a spy. "Has my second in command revealed to you any more about controlling the wormhole's destinations -- time as well as distance? We must know how to do that before we return to the Gamma Quadrant to lead our supporters to a glorious victory." "K'Fin is still suspicious of me. The mechanics of using two ships to create the wormhole and the emissions necessary to achieve the effect are known to me. How to control the destinations is not." The spy grunted in disgust. "The fool still thinks it is possible for both ships to get through the wormhole without getting crushed. Her own figures show that to be impossible; but since she is telling the Federations what she believes and wants to be true, she is convincing. If I go over to Voyager with her, perhaps I may be able to learn what we need about controlling the wormhole. I overheard her tell G'Ruhj and T'Taj that Janeway and the
half-Klingon understand her work and may help her to expand upon it. That may be the key to our getting back to the Gamma Quadrant in time to become the changelings' allies -- before the Cardassian dogs make their treaty with the Dominion -- so we can overthrow that pitiful petaQ Gowron." "You will go then. Find out as much as possible about the wormhole experiments. Take Janeway and the engineer hostage if you can -- K'Fin may be more willing to cooperate with us if their lives are at risk, weakling that she is. G'Ruhj thinks the Maquis are now loyal to Janeway, but I still don't believe it. A mutiny would be to our advantage. Make sure G'Ruhj and T'Taj follow their orders. And remember, all three of them are expendable if necessary." He thought for a moment about the popularity of his second officer with the bird- of-prey's crew before adding, "Especially G'Ruhj." "Nothing else, HoD?" Qas laughed sardonically. "We both know you are capable of so much more," replied Jinar. Qas glared in anticipation at his commanding officer before sliding out the door. Jinar knew he had left only because he saw him leave, so soundless was Qas as he moved. A useful man indeed, and of the Duras family blood, although this secret was known to no one on the Gin'tak but Jinar, and to few others anywhere in the galaxy. The Klingon captain's thoughts turned inward. Perhaps he should insist they return even further back in time, before they needed to negotiate with the Dominion. Kill Gowron before K'mpec, so Duras would have no opposition? No, then Duras would become leader of the High Council. Jinar was better suited to be leader. Picard was to blame, however, for Gowron's becoming leader of the Klingon High Council, and for the deaths of B'Tor and Lursa. Perhaps he could return before their deaths, kill Picard, and claim B'Tor as he had promised her. Just in case this could not be, he must make the Federations pay. Seeing Voyager crushed like an egg by the stresses of the wormhole while Jinar returned home in triumph in the Gin'tak would be an exciting prelude to his ascent to power. Alliance with the Dominion, leadership of the Klingon Empire, crushing defeat for the Cardassians, and then dominance over the Romulans and the Federation. Jinar was to vanquish all of his enemies and rule the quadrant. It was his destiny. Kathryn Janeway waited with her first officer in Transporter Room 1 for the return of the Klingon. She was as nervous as anything -- *This is nothing more than waiting for the other shoe to drop,* she thought. Chakotay studied her. Outside she appeared as cool as an Argalan cucumber, but he could tell she was tense. The doors opened and Tuvok entered, shadowed by only two security personnel. His yellow clad officers took up positions adjacent to the captain. "Captain, I have reconfigured the transporter to render any firearms she may bring useless." "Good thinking, Tuvok." Chakotay glanced at Tuvok and read the warning in the Vulcan's eyes. *Well,* he thought, *we're all here now except Torres. Where the devil is she?* The transporter chime grabbed his attention. Not one but four Klingons materialized on the pad, two bearing bat'telhs. "Commander K'Fin we expected," said the captain coolly, "but we did not expect you, Commander G'Ruhj, or your associates." "This is Sub-Commander T'Taj, our navigator." "Why have you returned?" said Janeway bluntly, knowing such straightforwardness would not cause offense. "I have come by invitation, Captain," G'Ruhj answered. Janeway looked at him with narrowed eyes and asked icily, "Whose invitation?" "Your helmsman's, Paris of the House of Paris," replied G'Ruhj. "He asked to be shown the art of the bat'telh. I can demonstrate better with a trained partner," he replied, stepping off the pad. "I am assuming, of course, that Paris has recovered from his injuries." *Injuries?* Janeway smacked her combadge. "Janeway to Paris!" "Yes, Captain," came Tom's immediate reply; but his voice sounded odd, as if he were underground. She made a mental note of it, but thought better of pursuing it in the present company. Chakotay glanced at her questioningly. The captain was in no mood for nonsense. "Paris, report to Transporter Room 1 immediately!" "Yes, ma'am." Chakotay tapped his badge as well. "Chakotay to Torres." "I'm on my way now, Commander," she said, anticipating him, her voice also strangely muffled. Unfortunately, Chakotay's psyche did not lend itself toward discretion as well as the captain's. "Computer, location of Lieutenants Torres and Paris?" "Lieutenants Torres and Paris are in Storage Closet Alpha 5A," the computer calmly informed them all. "Ah," said Chakotay. "Yes, of course they are. Looking for that, um, lost phase discriminator that we, ah, lost." Janeway felt her blood pressure inch up another notch. *I knew I should have talked to them,* she thought crossly. She watched as the Klingons exchanged glances and knew exactly what they were thinking -- "Federations are idiots." There was an awkward silence, then K'Fin stepped down to stand next to G'Ruhj. "Phase discriminators emit thoron particles, Commander," she said almost sweetly. "I suggest you modify a tricorder. That way your senior officers won't be so . . . inconvenienced. It must be difficult for two persons to search the same closet at the same time." Janeway inwardly smiled at the ice-breaker, and realized perhaps she and this impressive Klingon might eventually become friends. They had a lot in common: a position of command, a love of science, and a sense of humor. She simply could not believe this proud engineer meant either her or her crew any harm. *I'm going to try to get her and B'Elanna to spend some time together, despite the security risk,* she thought to herself. "I'm sure that's good advice, Commander," she said warmly. "Now, who is this other crewman you have brought us? For I assume that since he is unarmed he is not part of the bat'telh team." K'Fin's friendly demeanor vanished. "This is Qas," she said shortly. "And what -- " Janeway was interrupted by the whoosh of the doors as her missing lieutenants came striding in, B'Elanna in first place, Paris right on her heels. Her brown eyes smoldered, and she looked ready to take on all the Klingons unarmed. Tom's color was high, as if he had been angered or embarrassed, and he walked with a slight limp. "Captain, Commander K'Fin. My apologies for being . . . delayed." B'Elanna spit out the last word as if the taste of them were bitter. Dark eyes flashed around the transporter room, viewing the Klingon warriors with an angry flash of temper. G'Ruhj felt his heart leap at this sign of her spirit. This was more what he had thought to see from her! He knew he had not been mistaken that her heart was Klingon, though her human parent's heritage was evident in her face. Mysterious, that she should be so meek upon their first meeting, but it was a mystery he found to be intriguing -- something to be explored further, in a battle of discovery. A flush of anger was also plain on the face of the helmsman. G'Ruhj could see she would not meet the eyes of Paris. Could Jinar have been right about him? Was he threatening B'Elanna Torres? Was he a danger to the Federations? Paris did not stink of treason, but then, G'Ruhj had known Duras and had been fooled by that one, too. Was the engineer's beauty distracting him from the truth about the helmsman? Voyager's captain began to question Paris sharply about the unapproved invitation for a visit by armed Klingon warriors. G'Ruhj started to take offense, then thought better of it. Voyager's crew might not know all about the recent troubles between Klingons, Cardassians, and the Federation, but they knew enough. Could he be angry at a captain for watching out for those she commanded, defending her ship from those she felt were a strong threat to them? In a way, she was showing honor to the crew of the Gin'tak by her concern for their skills with weapons. Paris should have asked permission from his captain for the Klingons to come to Voyager as soon as he had returned to his ship. G'Ruhj would have demanded the same from any of his subordinates. Even though Captain Janeway surely could not know what Jinar had asked of him, her instincts were right about the danger to the safety of Voyager that T'Taj, Qas, and he himself represented. G'Ruhj felt a surge of guilt at what Jinar expected of him as he listened to her. He glanced at T'Taj and noted in the navigator's eyes the same approval his own held for this woman captain. Neither officer trusted Jinar, though it was their duty to follow him as the Empire ordered. The contrast was inescapable -- Captain Janeway was an honorable leader and seemed more ready to defend her ship and crew than Jinar would the Gin'tak. Second officer and navigator had spoken many times about bravery and its lack among allies and enemies alike. They agreed that slurs about Federation cowardice were unfounded. Starfleet war
riors might seem soft, with all their emphasis on talk and negotiation rather than on deeds; however, one should not be so foolish as to turn one's back to them. This red-haired human might be small in stature, but not in authority. Captain Janeway turned to the Klingons. "I apologize to you, Commander G'Ruhj. The invitation was offered in good faith. You are welcome to go to Holodeck 2 for the demonstration. We ask only that since you are both armed with a bat'telh, you consent to having a security team accompany you, for your safety as well as our own." "It is always wise to be cautious around Klingon warriors armed with the bat'telh, for it is a blade that is always ready to taste victory." G'Ruhj smiled at the captain with one eye on the beautiful B'Elanna Torres to see her reaction. The engineer sneered back at him. G'Ruhj's heart leaped again at this sign of her pleasure towards him. At the captain's nod, Commander Chakotay said to the guards standing near Lieutenant Tuvok, "Ensign Molina, Crewman Larson, please accompany our guests and Mr. Paris to Holodeck 2." "Perhaps Lieutenant Torres would like to come with us to learn how a bat'telh is to be properly used in battle?" G'Ruhj closed the distance between the engineer and himself until he was nearly touching her, leaving an opening for her to respond. He could not see her entire face, but he could see her eyes and was astonished to see her roll them as she replied, "I have more important ways to spend my time than playing with sharp toys, Commander, but my thanks for the offer." As she stepped back from G'Ruhj, something dropped on the floor with a sharp, metallic clattering to land next to the engineer's feet. She stopped to pick up the object and turned to hand it to Paris. The ruddy color staining the helmsman's face fled as he beheld what appeared to be a golden colored metal bangle in her hand. "You seem to have lost this, Lieutenant," she snarled as she shoved it into his left hand. Balling the thing in his fist, Paris wordlessly led G'Ruhj and T'Taj out of the transporter room and down the corridor to the turbolift. Tuvok signaled Molina and Larson with a nod of his head, and they followed. Tuvok's attention was riveted upon his captain, Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Torres, and the remaining Klingons. Tuvok unconsciously raised an eyebrow as he noted the Klingon scientist was standing as far from her remaining colleague as possible. Curiously, she seemed to have an aversion to this assistant. She was chatting with Captain Janeway and Torres with greater ease than she had shown to this Qas, to the point she was avoiding any glances in his direction. The rank of the assistant was not visible by any insignia on his clothing, and Qas' eyes were busily taking in everything around him rather than paying any attention to the discussion of the scientific inquiry which should have been his main concern. Chakotay caught Tuvok's eye and raised a questioning eyebrow of his own. He was obviously not at ease around this unexpected visitor who did not even seem to have the confidence of his shipmate. The fact that the name Qas in Federation Standard would be spelled "Crass" seemed to be an unfortunate omen. Voyager's Chief of Security decided this Klingon would require even closer supervision than those who had come aboard openly armed with a bat'telh. Moving away from the visitors to minimize the chance of being overheard, Tuvok tapped his combadge. "Mr. Kim, have Ensigns Simms and Hudson completed giving their report to you as of yet?" "They've just finished, Lieutenant." "Please send them down to Transporter Room 1. I believe we will have need of their services shortly." After Harry Kim acknowledged receiving the message, Tuvok moved back toward the others in the transporter room. "Commander, I have several leads I would like to follow up with you this afternoon," Janeway was saying. "I have been looking in some of the older databases and have found several entries that bolster some of our theories." "Excellent, Captain Janeway. My assistant can work with your assistant -- not Lieutenant Torres, of course, your other assistant -- to see if other relationships in the data can be found." The Klingon woman looked at the opening entryway as Ensign Simms and Hudson walked into the room. Her eyes widened when she recognized them as the security guards who had come to the Gin'tak with Chakotay and Paris. She turned her gaze deliberately on the Vulcan security officer, raised an eyebrow much as he himself had done moments before, then faced Janeway. "Surely there is someplace for them to work near us, Captain?" Captain Janeway did not miss the raised brow. Was K'Fin annoyed by the presence of the extra security guards? No, she would have been more forthright in objecting to their presence. Might she WANT the guards to be present? And with whom was she annoyed, if not with the assistant that the Klingon scientist seemed so determined to ignore? Janeway offered, "Of course. We'll put them in the conference room. That is close enough to my ready room for us to consult with them whenever we wish. Lieutenant Torres, please contact Lieutenant Nicoletti to assist Qas in his search for the clues about how to control the wormhole's destinations better. Mr. Simms, Mr. Hudson, there will be a considerable amount of data to go over. Perhaps you will be able to provide them with your assistance in this endeavor." The smoothing of the tension across K'Fin's face at this order confirmed Janeway's suspicions. This Qas, whatever he was, was not K'Fin's "colleague" in any true sense of the word, and the Klingon scientist wanted his freedom of movement on Voyager restricted as much as Janeway did. Klingon commander and Federation captain pivoted as one toward Qas. His visage may have been one of intent indifference, but his posture was that of a carnivore ready to pounce. When his obsidian eyes met Janeway's, she was reminded of the coldness of absolute zero. Not a man to be crossed. Not a man to be trusted. While Qas was escorted to the conference room in the company Tuvok and his aides, Voyager's first officer traveled with the three women scientists as far as Janeway's ready room. Gathering up the group of padds she had been reviewing while eating her lunch, she told him, "The data in these should be most interesting to Qas, Lieutenant Nicoletti, Ensigns Simms and Hudson, and Commander Chakotay. This one has a listing of other incidents that need to be reviewed as well. Please bring them to the conference room -- oh, and by the way -- make sure Qas has everything he requires before going back to the bridge. We want him comfortably settled in so he can perform his studies without any undue interruptions." "Aye, Captain." He understood his captain perfectly, and a suggestion of a wink back to her reassured her he did. Nodding to the three women, he excused himself and assumed the role of delivery man to bring the already-reviewed data padds to Qas. As soon as he left, B'Elanna began to pace in a manner even more agitated than usual. Janeway had made a mental note to talk to her about her dropping the bracelet in the transporter room, but now was not the time. She turned to K'Fin and asked, "Commander, who is this Qas, anyway, whom you seem to have so little regard for? I must admit I'm much happier having your G'Ruhj and T'Taj stalking the halls of my ship brandishing their bat'telhs than I am having Qas under guard in my conference room. Does he have any formal rank on the bird- of-prey? Is he really your assistant?" K'Fin hesitated before answering. She hated being put in the position of impugning the honor of anyone on the Gin'tak, but her own honor forbade her from lying any longer to the Federation women with whom she had begun to feel a bond. Their intelligence could no longer be insulted by Jinar's dishonorable plans, which she now suspected was a threat to everyone around him, Klingon and Federation alike. "Captain Janeway, I regret I must tell you I myself do not know. His rank, as far as I know, is no higher than an ordinary crewman, yet he has the ear of Jinar himself. He is no scientist, of that I am sure, but he seems to learn everything to which he sets his mind. He understands our work better than Jinar does. Your instincts about G'Ruhj and T'Taj are correct; both are warriors to be trusted. I admit I would feel safer if I could throw Qas out an airlock, and so help me Kahless, Jinar along with him. There was no good reason for him to be included in this visit to your ship, other than to be the eyes and ears of Jinar. I doubt I am telling you anything you do not already suspect. I can no longer keep silent. You surely realize Jinar wants to take over Voyager so he can return to the Alpha Quadrant? Much of what has been said to you about how we came to be here is true; but much is distorted. I myself have been kept in the dark, or have been lied to much of the time, I believe. My usefu
lness to Jinar will be at an end once we return home. I fear nothing for myself; my heart is Klingon, but I have grave concerns for those who do not share in Jinar's plots, and that is almost everyone on the Gin'tak as well as all of those on Voyager. You must beware, Captain. What we learn about the wormholes is a danger to everyone here because of what he will do once he learns the secret of controlling travel through them. I have been careful not to tell him too much, but now that his henchman is here, it will be more difficult. Lieutenant Qas is extremely -- shall we say, talented -- in what he does. I have never met him before this, but I have heard of him. People have a habit of disappearing when Qas is nearby." Torres and Janeway shared worried glances. For K'Fin to so openly make disloyal, even treasonous, statements to outsiders such as themselves was a clear sign of the grave danger they were in. "Commander," said Janeway, "we could tell there were lies and omissions in your initial explanation of how you came to be here in the Delta Quadrant. It might help if we knew the real story." K'Fin began to pace in almost perfect imitation of B'Elanna Torres as she spoke. "I was working with the Trill scientists near their homeworld, perfecting the technique of opening and closing the wormholes. The experiments were still at the stage where the use of unmanned probes to obtain information about destinations was the only safe way to proceed. The Gin'tak came with a message from Gowron, ordering me to come back to Qo'noS to report about my findings and to bring sufficient equipment to continue the experiments at home. It was an audio message only, but that has not been unusual lately. My kinsman has often used this message of communicating with me, so I suspected nothing." Hearing that Gowron was related to K'Fin startled Janeway and caused B'Elanna to halt her pacing for a minute. K'Fin did not seem to notice. "Halfway home, two other birds-of-prey met us with new orders. We were to use the wormhole technology to go to the Gamma Quadrant and approach the Dominion regarding a treaty so that the war against the Cardassians could proceed without fear from what the spawn of the Gamma Quadrant might do. I denounced this plan, but I was prevented from contacting Gowron myself. In the end, we were able to use the technique safely, although one of the ships was destroyed and the other was severely damaged when the wormhole collapsed prematurely. "Once in the Gamma Quadrant," she continued, "Jinar and the other ship's captain contacted a Jem'Hadar ship. All communications were on secured channels. No one but Jinar, and perhaps Qas, had any knowledge of what was happening. Then a supply ship from the Alpha Quadrant arrived via the Bajoran wormhole route and let slip that the Cardassians had made a treaty with the Dominion and that the Khitomer accords between the Klingon Empire and the Federation had been reaffirmed. Even the Romulans are now allied with us, at least, as it pertains to the fight against the Dominion and Cardassians. "There was a battle. The other bird-of-prey, while too damaged to travel with us, created a wormhole so the Gin'tak could escape. The Jem'Hadar ship entered the wormhole at warp speed, however, as we had told you. The wormhole collapsed and shattered their ship, and we suffered the time travel effect that we have been studying. I had assumed all along Jinar was doing that which was ordered by Gowron and that he was trying to return to Qo'noS, but now I am not so sure. I have found evidence in encrypted databases on the Gin'tak that someone has been having secret communications with the Jem'Hadar and the changelings for some time. Captain, information about Voyager was in those files. I am sure a changeling spy somehow learned of your ship and its capabilities and communicated this to the Gin'tak and to Jinar. I assure you, the Federation has not made this bioneural circuitry technology common knowledge in the quadrant. Who knows how much more information is in the database? Or for what reason it has been shared? I smell treachery, Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Torres." K'Fin caught her breath and then sat down, weary, but relieved of a burden she had been unable to bring herself to share with G'Ruhj and T'Taj, for their own safety. "So, Captain Janeway, now that I have betrayed the trust of my own captain, what will you do with this information?" "Commander, you have shown us your faith in us -- we will try to do the same for you. We will protect you in any way we can." B'Elanna halted her steady pacing for a moment to add, "Besides, Commander, aren't you just being true to Klingon tradition? When a captain breaks faith with his crew, isn't it the DUTY of the first officer to 'remove' him, for the sake of honor?" K'Fin smiled broadly at this. "You are, of course, right, Lieutenant. I am glad you have been taught our ways so well by your Klingon parent." The engineer's sudden discomfort was not noticed by either of the other women as Janeway earnestly continued, "Commander, it may well be risky to continue working on the wormhole project with Jinar's true plans still a mystery to us, but our only true protection in the long run may be to learn how to control the effect so we can all escape back home, and bring Captain Jinar to justice." Janeway looked at her chief engineer and the Klingon scientist. Neither could disagree with what she had said. "Shall we proceed, then?" When they both nodded yes, Janeway added, "It bothers me that each time you created a wormhole, one of the ships was destroyed. Do you think it is possible for BOTH the Gin'tak and Voyager to travel back to the Alpha Quadrant?" B'Elanna answered for K'Fin. "It isn't, Captain, at least, not from what we learned this morning. For both ships to travel through together, the shield resonance signatures would have to be precisely calibrated and the speeds of both ships coordinated to an unrealistic degree or the graviton waves would start to distort the verteron and chroniton fields, causing the wormhole to collapse. The best we could do would be to send one ship into the wormhole once it was created and hope that, once on the other side and back in normal space, it could hold the wormhole open for the other ship to get through. So far, though, none of the wormholes have remained open long enough for two safe trips." B'Elanna looked to K'Fin for agreement and received it in the form of a reluctant sigh. "Just because it hasn't been done YET," Janeway said, "is hardly reason for presuming it can never be done. Perhaps we should look at the relationships between the speed of the ship, the shield resonance signatures, and the ratio of verteron particles to the graviton waves to see if that is a way to control the trip. Especially speed and graviton waves -- Kirk did SOMETHING during those slingshots around the sun that involved those variables, at least. Let's look at Spock's equations and the available telemetry again. Their evidence may be older and less precisely measured than ours, but they actually DID travel through time, and several times, too." As she spoke, Janeway's enthusiasm grew. With Qas safely isolated from them, this was the time to see if they could solve the problem and maybe, finally, get home. Despite his dismay and anger at B'Elanna for returning the bracelet to him, or possibly because of it, Tom found himself caught up in the Klingon martial arts demonstration. After an hour's display of typical moves, strategies, and death blows, which were, of course, halted before they became lethal, G'Ruhj and T'Taj began to instruct Tom in the use of the weapon. "To use the bat'telh is not merely to fight. It is an art. To properly practice the art, your mind and body must be in accord. Each movement leads from one to another, inexorably grinding away your opponent's will to fight," G'Ruhj had said. After a while, Tom began to see what he was talking about. The bat'telh was truly an elegant weapon, surprisingly suited, as it turned out, to his own long arms and tall frame. "That's it," encouraged T'Taj, standing back as Tom used his bat'telh. "The blade should be used as an extension of your arm, as part of you. It is not merely a blade to be slashed about. Put both of your shoulders into it. Good!" Tom countered G'Ruhj's blow with two swift taps from side to side, then lifted the weapon above his head and threw it down to meet G'Ruhj's answering stroke. The bump on Tom's head throbbed from the exertion. The cut on his hand stung from being washed with the salt of the sweat pouring off his body. His turned ankle ached every time he jumped to block one of G'Ruhj's moves. He felt wonderful, exhilarated. Tom was beginning to understand why Klingons loved their martial arts so much. It was a great way to deal with hostility. Tom knew it would be perfect for Torres' peace of mind. The brief thought of B'Elanna may have distracted Tom, or possibl
y his sore ankle may have betrayed him. The only thing he was really sure of afterward was that suddenly he stumbled forward awkwardly. G'Ruhj, deeply immersed in teaching Tom the intricacies and technique of fighting with the bat'telh, was caught in a position that prevented him from fully warding off Tom's blow as it descended near his neck. A seasoned fighter, G'Ruhj regained his balance in time to block the move and sustained only a cut on the outside of his wrist, but it was enough to enrage T'Taj. "Treachery! You invite us here to be murdered!" screamed the navigator. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, my foot slipped!" With his blade still hooked onto the other bat'telh from the counterstroke, Tom was unable to extricate himself quickly from G'Ruhj and back off from the navigator's anger. "MaghwI'!" yelled T'Taj. He threw his arm around Tom's neck, and stabbed his own combadge, yelling, "Three to beam!" The hum of the transporter was heard before Larson and Molina, who had been so absorbed by the fighting that neither had realized when it had evolved in a split second from a martial arts lesson into a confrontation, could raise their phasers fully into position. T'Taj and Paris disappeared, leaving G'Ruhj standing with his mouth agape, holding his wrist as it dripped fuchsia-colored blood, sharing the shock felt by the two security guards. "Molina here, Commander. Lieutenant Paris has been abducted by the navigator, Sub-Commander T'Taj. We need a forcefield around the holodeck immediately, sir." Within seconds, the forcefield shimmered around G'Ruhj and the security guards. G'Ruhj could not understand what had just happened. Surely T'Taj had seen that Paris had merely twisted his ankle again? He himself was to blame for becoming so mesmerized by the dancing of the blades and Paris' rapidly increasing level of skill that he had failed to react to the helmsman's one awkward move. He lowered his weapon to the floor and allowed the Federation security guards to remove it, as well as his combadge, from his possession. Normally, he would have killed anyone for touching the blade of the House of Tebit, but this was not a normal time. Nineteen times out of twenty, T'Taj would not have overreacted as he had. G'Ruhj and T'Taj had not made any plans for an immediate transporter beam-out on one tap, as had occurred, and G'Ruhj had been left behind even though he had distinctly heard T'Taj request transport for three. Jinar must have been waiting for the opportunity to take Paris or another from Voyager back to the Gin'tak, leaving his second officer to pay the consequences. As he was hustled to Sickbay for the Voyager doctor to see to his wrist, G'Ruhj considered the possibilities, and he did not like what he saw. "Ensign Molina," he said, "this has been a terrible mistake. This cut is of no consequence. I must see Commander K'Fin immediately." The shimmer of a forcefield dropping around them in Janeway's ready room was the first hint of trouble. "Commander Chakotay to Captain Janeway. Captain, there has been trouble on Holodeck 2. The navigator from the Gin'tak has abducted Tom Paris. I have initiated a forcefield around the ready room and the conference room until everything gets sorted out." Janeway glanced at B'Elanna. The engineer looked stunned. "Where is second officer G'Ruhj?" "He is being taken to Sickbay with a cut. He claims it is all a mistake, and he wishes to speak to Commander K'Fin." "Have him sent here to my ready room, Commander, and send the doctor up to look at him in here. Is Qas -- " Another beep from the combadge interrupted her. "Lieutenant Nicoletti here, Captain. Something seems to have happened to Ensign Hudson and Qas." "What happened?" Janeway's reply was sharper than usual. K'Fin exchanged glances with her; they both dreaded what they knew they were going to hear. "Captain, they're missing. Qas said he wanted to use the facilities for a call of nature. Hudson went to show him the way and to guard him, and now Hudson isn't answering his combadge." "Computer, locate Ensign Hudson." "Ensign Hudson is no longer on board." "Locate the Klingon visitor Qas." "Insufficient data to process search." K'Fin groaned. "He must have gotten into your computers, Captain. I told you he was good at what he does." "Janeway to Lieutenant Tuvok. Go to the conference room at once. Hudson and Qas are missing." Janeway and K'Fin regarded each other with dismay, but both were quickly distracted by B'Elanna as they heard her soft, murmuring voice escalate in volume with each word. "I knew it. Stupid idiotic toys! Playing with knives! When I get you back, Tom Paris, I'm going to slice you up myself!" The two older women stared at Lieutenant Torres as she shouted to no one in particular, oblivious to the presence of her commanding officer and the Klingon visitor. Captain Janeway sat in her ready room looking darkly at G'Ruhj and K'Fin and trying to ignore the beginnings of a very bad headache pressing at the base of her skull. In the last thirty minutes she had heard reports from everyone present in Holodeck 2 and in the conference room when the events in question had occurred, but there was little anyone could tell her beyond the obvious. She had finally sent her officers back to duty. She'd left Commander Chakotay in charge on the bridge, where he was also working with Ensign Kim to figure out how Qas had manipulated the computer to mask his presence on Voyager. Kim had already re-configured the computer's security lockout to prevent any further unauthorized access. But if Qas were as talented as K'Fin had implied, then Janeway's mind would not be eased until the Klingon was under the armed guard of Tuvok's security teams. That was her worst problem right now, but it was only one. Two more were sitting in front of her. Then there were the two now apparently on the Gin'tak. Janeway's combadge beeped and Chakotay's voice filtered into the ready room. "Captain, there is still no response from the Gin'tak to our hails." Janeway's mouth tightened. "Keep trying, Commander." There was little else they could do for the moment, until Jinar decided to answer, but Janeway was getting very impatient with Captain Jinar and his stalling tactics. "He will contact you eventually, Captain, when he is ready," K'Fin said apologetically. "I know that is not very helpful, but Jinar rarely does anything for anyone's convenience other than his own." Janeway nodded. She was sure K'Fin only wanted to help. Despite how matters had deteriorated, Janeway still trusted the Klingon woman and believed her when she said she knew nothing of the abduction in Holodeck 2 or about Qas' whereabouts. G'Ruhj was another matter altogether. She fixed her gaze on him. "Tell me one more time, Commander, did you have anything to do with Lieutenant Paris' abduction?" "I swear to you, Captain, I had no idea what T'Taj was about to attempt." G'Ruhj had told her this several times now, the first time while the hostile doctor had been treating his wrist. In this statement he could at least salvage some of his Klingon honor knowing that he was telling the truth. But, despite corroborating stories from the two security officers present, it was obvious Janeway did not trust him, and wisely so. "Even given your . . . innocence in this matter, Commander G'Ruhj, perhaps you can still theorize a motive. Why would Jinar want to abduct my helmsman, and apparently a security officer also? And why did he leave you behind?" Those questions would be more difficult to answer and still maintain an allegiance to the truth. "Captain, all I can tell you of Jinar's motive is that he wants your ship." Janeway knew this already, but she said nothing. "Qas may be the only one who knows Jinar's true plan, whatever that may be. That is bitter knowledge, but also likely true. I suspect Qas and Jinar may have made some previous arrangement to abduct your security officer so Qas might gain the freedom to move about your ship. As for Lieutenant Paris, I couldn't speculate." Janeway raised an eyebrow. "You couldn't?" G'Ruhj flushed slightly under Janeway's cold glare. Before serving on the Gin'tak he had never doubted his actions served the interests of the Empire; now he was no longer sure. "Captain, as I said, Jinar does not confide in me, or even in his first officer, K'Fin." He glanced at the woman sitting silently beside him. He had not yet had a chance to consult with her privately, and he suspected Captain Janeway had no intention of allowing him to speak alone with her. "I deeply regret T'Taj acted so impulsively and dishonorably. Given the opportunity I would have stopped him, but I, like your security officers, was taken completely by surprise." Janeway's combadge beeped again, and G'Ruhj was saved from any further evasive tactics. "Lieutenant Tuvok here, Captain. My security teams have completed a ship- wide search using hand-held scanners and have thus far found no trace of Qas. I admit I do not know
how Qas has been able to evade detection. Ship-wide forcefields are activated, which should prevent him from moving far from his current location, wherever that may be. We will continue with a more intensive physical search until we find him." Janeway heard an unusual edge of frustration in Tuvok's clipped tone. How was it possible for the Klingon to have disappeared so effectively? A glance at K'Fin and G'Ruhj showed that they were apparently as disconcerted by this as she was. "Tuvok, is there any way Qas could have beamed off the ship with the others?" "Only three people beamed off the ship when T'Taj contacted the Gin'tak. The computer has confirmed that those missing persons are Paris, Hudson, and T'Taj himself. It may be technically possible that Qas beamed out at the same time and somehow manipulated the computer and sensors to cover his activity. However, given the minimal time frame involved between his departure from the conference room and his disappearance, and the lack of any reasonable motive for concocting such an elaborate cover-up, I would consider that possibility very remote." Janeway thought it was remote also; Qas was loose on her ship somewhere, of that she had no doubt, and every minute that passed was another minute he had potential to gain access to critical systems and information. Tuvok was as aware of that as she was. "Keep at it, Tuvok. Janeway out." Janeway had no chance to speak before her combadge beeped again. "Captain, were being hailed by the Gin'tak," Chakotay said. Janeway was up and striding through the door to the bridge almost before K'Fin and G'Ruhj could rise. They followed her out of the ready room, but she held a hand up as they crossed the threshold. "Wait there, please." K'Fin and G'Ruhj nodded. They stood in front of the ready room while Janeway strode to her command center. Neither could help but notice the two security officers stationed on the bridge move to flank them at a discreet distance on both sides. "Onscreen," Janeway ordered. Jinar's face appeared on the front viewscreen, the bridge of the Gin'tak behind him. "Captain Janeway, I understand you have been hailing me. What can I do for you?" "You can return my two crewmembers to my ship. Now." Jinar smiled, although it was closer to a sneer. "How could I do that, Captain, when your shields are raised? That is, if your crewmembers were even aboard the Gin'tak, of course." Janeway gritted her teeth and tried not to think of how much would have been avoided if she had chosen to raise those shields earlier. She hadn't really trusted Jinar since the first time they'd met. "I thought Klingons prided themselves on being forthright. So why don't you quit playing games, and tell me what the hell you think you're doing?" Jinar's expression hardened. "I might ask you the same thing, Captain Janeway. Why are you preventing me from beaming MY crewmembers aboard?" "Your crewmembers are unharmed, Jinar, and I'll be happy to beam them back to your ship as soon as you return Paris and Hudson." "Isn't this what humans call a stalemate, Captain?" Jinar asked pleasantly. "But no matter. You can keep my first and second officer aboard your ship for awhile. It's not as if you'll hurt them. After all you are . . . Federation." "Does that include Qas?" "I don't know what you mean, Captain Janeway. Qas is aboard the Gin'tak." *Liar,* Janeway thought with disgust. "Then may I speak with him?" "Of course not." "Jinar-- " "My rank is captain," Jinar growled. "As for your crewmembers, perhaps there is no point in denying that they are aboard the Gin'tak, as my guests, of course. Once my . . . goal has been obtained, you'll be reunited with them." "You will not get this ship," Janeway said softly, her cold gaze locking with Jinar's, "no matter what method you try to use. Don't doubt me on that, CAPTAIN Jinar." "We'll see, Captain Janeway." Jinar made a motion with his hand and the visual abruptly faded from Voyager's main viewscreen. Janeway stared at the blank screen for a moment, then slapped her combadge. "Lieutenant Tuvok." "Tuvok here. We have not located Qas yet, Captain," he responded, obviously anticipating Janeway's question. "Find him," Janeway ground out, unable to completely keep the fury out of her voice. She couldn't dismiss the feeling that Jinar's abduction of Paris and Hudson was some diversionary tactic, to keep her off-balance while his primary assault, in the form of Qas, was in progress. A gut intuition, maybe, but if she couldn't get her hands on Paris and Hudson at the moment, she'd dearly love to put them around Qas' neck instead. Janeway took a deliberate, calming breath as Tuvok acknowledged her order, then she turned to the two Klingons still standing silently by her ready room. "Commander K'Fin, I'm going to allow you to continue working on the wormhole experiments with Lieutenant Nicoletti. I must insist that Ensign Simms remain with you at all times as a precautionary measure. I hope you understand." "Of course, Captain." K'Fin understood completely and was not offended. She was almost surprised that Janeway would want her to keep working on the experiments, but the captain obviously realized the importance of creating a stable wormhole was not diminished by the unpleasant circumstances. K'Fin would not violate her trust. "Ensign Simms, escort Commander K'Fin to the conference room. Ensign Larson and Lieutenant Nicoletti should already be there. Make sure the forcefield remains activated once you are inside." "Yes, Captain," Simms acknowledged. "Commander K'Fin, Lieutenant Torres will also assist you once she is satisfied Engineering is completely secured," Janeway added. After B'Elanna's outburst in her ready room, she had sent the chief engineer to oversee the placement of security officers in Engineering. Janeway had been momentarily surprised by the intensity of B'Elanna's anger, but she knew simple fear underlay B'Elanna's sudden display of temper. She was well aware of the depth of B'Elanna's feelings for Tom Paris, even if B'Elanna hadn't acknowledged them to herself yet, but she certainly didn't want the lieutenant destroying her ready room or throttling G'Ruhj. Not yet anyway. "Commander G'Ruhj, I believe we have some unfinished business in my ready room," Janeway said, as Simms and K'Fin entered the turbolift. She turned toward the ready room, and after a moment's hesitation G'Ruhj followed her. Janeway stopped at the threshold and looked back at Chakotay. Commander Chakotay nodded as he met Janeway's gaze, a simple confirmation that he would watch over the bridge and contact her if she were needed. The message had passed between them so many times words were no longer necessary. Chakotay watched the remaining security officer move in front of the ready room door as it closed. He wished briefly that the captain had chosen to station the guard inside the ready room. She obviously believed G'Ruhj knew more than he was telling. That fact alone made Chakotay uneasy. "Ensign Kim?" Kim looked up from his station, hearing the question in Chakotay's voice. "Commander, I have searched every system and sub-system in the computer and so far all I can tell you is that when Qas beamed aboard a signature trace was created as always, but that trace is now indecipherable, so the computer is unable to track Qas' whereabouts, or even confirm he is on Voyager. I can't find any evidence of sabotage. I can't undo it until I figure out how he managed it in the first place." Commander Chakotay understood the frustration in Kim's voice. "Keep working on it, Ensign. Chakotay tried to infuse a note of encouragement in his own voice. Kim just gave the commander a grim nod and bent back over his console. Chakotay turned and sat down in his chair to watch and to wait for others to inform him of some progress. His patience generally served him well, but even he was finding it difficult to keep waiting. He looked at the Gin'tak, displayed now on the front viewscreen. The ship hung placidly in space only a few kilometers from Voyager, its slightly blurred edges evidence of its activated shields. He could only hope that whatever Jinar's plan, it could be averted before anyone, particularly Tom Paris or Mikel Hudson, got hurt. Tom Paris sat on the hard bunk in his cell somewhere in the bowels of the Gin'tak. On his first visit he hadn't paid much attention to this area of the ship, he had still been thinking about the sleek little shuttlecraft he'd seen in the shuttlebay when they'd passed by here. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on that little ship now. Here he was in another detention cell, smaller and darker than some, but basically just one more cell in a life full of them. In fact, Tom was sure he must now hold the Delta Quadrant record. No one, but no one, could have been in more cells, on ships or on planets, than himself. It was some incredible talent he had been blessed with. The Klingon security guard, whose entire job seemed to b
e to pace the detention area and periodically growl at the Voyager pilot, passed by Tom's cell. Tom smirked at him. The Klingon didn't even bother to growl back this time, instead he barked a hoarse laugh, as if he considered the human too beneath his contempt to even acknowledge an insult. *Oh, yeah, Buster,* Tom thought. *Just give me a bat'telh. Or was that what got me into this in the first place?* Tom sighed and stood up, which wasn't much more comfortable than sitting on the rock-like bunk. He had twisted his ankle again on Holodeck 2; this time it had swelled up some. He seriously regretted that he hadn't just had the doc fix it in the first place, instead of indulging in macho heroics. His head ached, not only from the bump he had gotten on his first visit aboard the Gin'tak, but from the right cross T'Taj had delivered to his face in the transporter room when he had arrived for this second pleasure trip. At least T'Taj had had to quit trying to choke him to death to deck him. But the discomfort of his injuries was minor compared to the frustration of his not knowing what was going on with Voyager. Tom tested his ankle gingerly and hobbled to the doorway of his cell, stopping a few centimeters short of the forcefield. He wished he knew where Mikel Hudson was. Tom's surprise at being assaulted by T'Taj and forcibly beamed aboard the Gin'tak had paled upon seeing Mikel materializing on the transporter platform a meter away from him, a stunned look on his face. Apparently T'Taj had been surprised also, because he had shouted at the several Klingons loitering in front of the transporter platform, demanding to know who Mikel was, and what had happened to G'Ruhj. Tom had tried then to say something to Mikel, and that was precisely when T'Taj had released his choke hold, jerked Tom around and hit him. Tom had stumbled backwards right off the platform and landed amid the waiting Klingons, who had courteously stepped out of his way. Tom remembered being stunned enough by the blow that it took him several moments to regain his senses. He had watched one of the Klingons pull Mikel off the transporter platform and drag him out of the room. Another Klingon had reached down and ripped Tom's combadge off his uniform. T'Taj had stormed off the platform and begun yelling at the assembled group. Tom had regained some coherent thought by then, but without his universal translator he was only able to catch bits and pieces of the argument, since his Klingon was rudimentary and the subjects weren't speaking slowly or enunciating clearly. He did get the impression G'Ruhj had been left behind on Voyager. He heard Captain Jinar's name several times, and something about a change of plans -- something about Qas and his efforts on Voyager. He hadn't had much time to consider what that meant since two of the remaining Klingons at that moment had reached down, pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the transporter room. T'Taj had still been yelling as the door closed. Tom put a hand against the wall of his cell to take the pressure off his throbbing ankle, as there was no sense in aggravating the injury. He sighed. He'd gone over the conversation several times now and he still couldn't get any more out of it. Just the sure impression at the end that Qas was up to something on Voyager. Tom figured Mikel Hudson had been the security officer assigned to Qas; that would explain why he'd ended up on the Gin'tak. It would mean Qas might be loose on Voyager doing who knew what kind of damage. Tom glanced again at the outside corridor. He felt the frustration of not knowing what was going on welling up in him again. He wished he knew where Mikel was. He'd tried shouting Mikel's name earlier and gotten no answer except a menacing growl from the guard. He had to do something. "I demand to talk with your captain!" No answer. He was being completely ignored now even by the guard. He'd been here for probably an hour now, and he still didn't know why. Tom gave up and hobbled back to the bunk. As he sat down he heard a light tinkling sound of metal and glanced at the floor by his feet. There, glinting softly in the dim light, lay the bracelet he'd given to B'Elanna. Tom reached down and picked it up. He'd jammed it into the inside pocket of his uniform on the way to Holodeck 2 and promptly forgotten it was there. He turned it over in his hand and read the inscription again. "To the most beautiful woman whom I love." Tom sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him, his hand tightening around the bracelet. He'd been really angry at B'Elanna when she'd unceremoniously shoved it at him on Voyager. Now he wondered if it were he who'd been wrong. He knew B'Elanna cared for him. A lot. But perhaps it had been presumptuous of him to give her what amounted to a family heirloom. The implications had been too much at this stage of their relationship. Tom opened his hand and looked at the bracelet dangling between his fingers. He wondered if B'Elanna were still mad at him, then he laughed out loud. Mad at him? She was probably completely furious at him for this latest misadventure he'd gotten himself into. Hopefully she hadn't taken it out on too many people in Engineering. "PetaQ!" Tom was familiar with that Klingon word. He looked up to see the guard grinning ferally at him. "Captain Jinar wants to see you for a little . . . talk," the guard said in Federation standard as he deactivated the forcefield. His grin got a little more feral as he stood aside and waited for Tom. "Well, it was better than just sitting here." He hoped. Tom spared one last thought for B'Elanna, wondering when and if he would see her again. Then he stuffed the bracelet back in his pocket and walked to the doorway, trying to limp as little as possible. B'Elanna Torres had fixed her hostile glare directly on Lieutenant Tuvok. The security chief met her gaze without wavering. Lieutenant Carey stood a respectable distance away, trying to avoid the continued fallout from the latest episode of what the Engineering crew generally liked to call "The Wrath of Torres." Not that anyone was really afraid of serious physical injury, but it was agreed it was best to stay OUT of the chief engineer's way when she was in this kind of mood. If the episode had anything to do with Tom Paris, as this one unfortunately did, then that went double. However, Lieutenant Tuvok was completely immune to the condition. "Lieutenant Torres, my teams have thoroughly searched the engineering section and there is no sign Qas is, nor has been, here. The forcefields should prevent him from entering the area. But under my orders the security officers I have posted here will remain as a precautionary measure. They will not interfere with your work." "Fine!" B'Elanna snapped. She hated anything that disrupted routine in Engineering, and she had been tripping over security personnel for the past hour. "How hard can it be to find one Klingon anyway? I don't need to remind you that if Qas accesses any critical systems it could take weeks to undo the damage!" "If it could be undone. No, you do not have to remind me, Lieutenant," Tuvok replied evenly. "If you have any further concerns about the security officers stationed in Engineering, please address them to me and leave my officers to do their duty without interference." Tuvok turned and walked out of Main Engineering without waiting for a reply. Ensign Molina and Lieutenant Carey exchanged a look, and Molina hastily followed Tuvok. Lieutenant Tuvok was not personally offended by Torres' attitude, he knew it was simply indicative of her combative personality, and most evident when she was under stress. It was her statement that it should not be so difficult to find one Klingon that disturbed him with its accuracy. It was highly implausible that his teams had not apprehended Qas by this point, even without the computer's assistance. Masking his presence from the computer was one matter, but evading hand-held scanners was something else entirely. The Klingons had no personal cloaking technology capable of blocking a scanner, nor any way to cross through forcefields, certainly not without setting off security alarms. Qas had even been able to remain concealed in the face of the intensive physical search Tuvok's teams had undertaken. There was simply no way Qas could continue to hide, and no way he should have been able to hide this long, unless he somehow had the ability to hide in plain sight. *Hide in plain sight,* Tuvok thought to himself, searching for the logical explanation. *Who can hide in plain sight? Only a -- * He stopped in mid-stride several meters short of the turbolift that was his destination. Ensign Molina, taken by surprise, walked right into the security chief, but Tuvok barely seemed to notice or acknowledge Molina's apology. He continued to the turbolift at an even swifter pace. "Is something wrong, sir?" Molina asked, as the turbolift doors opened. Tuvok di
dn't even bother to point out the absurdity of that question. He had learned through association that humans often asked one thing when they wanted to know something else entirely. "I believe I may know exactly how Qas has avoided apprehension, Ensign. If my theory is correct, the situation is far more dire than I had originally anticipated, and the captain must be informed immediately." Tuvok stepped back as Molina entered the turbolift and the doors closed in front of them. "Bridge." B'Elanna Torres had watched Tuvok stalk away and wondered briefly if she had offended him. Well, why was it taking so long for the security teams to find one measly Klingon? She wished Qas WOULD show up in Engineering. She'd love to kick his -- B'Elanna's combadge beeped, interrupting her from any further pleasant thoughts. "Torres here." "This is Ensign Simms. I just wanted to inform you that Commander K'Fin and I have arrived at the conference room so that she may continue to work on the wormhole experiments." "I'll be there shortly," B'Elanna snapped. What a time to be working on theories. Even Simms had sounded disapproving, though that was probably directed at K'Fin's mere presence. The Voyager crew would probably prefer never to look at another Klingon about now. B'Elanna herself didn't think K'Fin had anything to do with the events of the past hour, but even she had a hard time not directing her anger at every Klingon from the Gin'tak. But it was the captain's request, probably intended as a way to keep her busy so she wouldn't think about . . . things. "Carey, keep your eyes open. I don't care what Tuvok says, make sure those security officers stay out of the way." B'Elanna didn't wait for Carey's reply as she strode out of Main Engineering and down one of the side corridors, in no hurry to get to the conference room. As she passed the Auxiliary Reaction Control Center she noticed the door to the small room was wide open. Unusual to say the least, since virtually every door on Voyager remained closed unless the proximity sensor was being tripped. B'Elanna approached the door cautiously but one glance told her the small room was empty. She looked down the corridor, suspecting some sort of trap. The corridor was as empty as the room. B'Elanna crossed the threshold and glanced at the interior door control panel. The proximity sensor was deactivated. *Damned security,* B'Elanna fumed, realizing that someone from Tuvok's team must have intentionally or accidentally hit the control panel while searching the room. She slapped the proximity sensor pad and reactivated it. Then she noticed something else and stepped all the way into the room, the door swishing closed behind her. Two empty dura-plas crates were piled in one corner. There was nothing that irritated B'Elanna more than junk sitting around anywhere in her orderly Engineering section, even in a barely used auxiliary room. Those crates should have been returned to storage. A flashing light on her left caught B'Elanna's eye and she turned her attention to the wall length display station. The station's computer monitor had been activated. B'Elanna fumed even more as she walked over to stare at it. The monitor was sitting in a ready mode when it should have been shut off by whomever used it last. "Computer, how many days ago was the last file accessed from this terminal?" "Six standard days ago." B'Elanna knew she had assigned someone recently to replace some of the conduits and update the relays in here, but it took her a minute to remember who it was. Vorik. It wasn't like the Vulcan to be so careless. He knew as well as anyone the importance of conserving even the most minor energy output on Voyager. In fact it was almost unbelievable. Unless he was being affected by some other irrational Vulcan syndrome similar to that Pon Farr thing. If so, she'd kill him this time. B'Elanna reached over and deactivated the computer monitor. Everything else looked normal. She turned around to leave and jerked back so quickly she found the curve of her back pressed into the slightly protruding edge of the station console. Qas stood directly in front of her. They stared at each other for several seconds, B'Elanna stunned momentarily into inaction. The Klingon spoke first, with a wide smile that bared his pointed teeth. "Chief Engineer Torres. We meet again." "How did you get in here?" B'Elanna was sure she would have heard the door open. She wasn't that preoccupied, and he definitely wasn't in this room a minute ago. "Does it matter?' B'Elanna pushed herself away from the console. She shrugged mentally. Whatever, it looked like her dream had come true. He was staring at her with those black eyes, so dark she couldn't fathom their depths at all, and with that cold grimace of a smile plastered on his face. She was tempted to indulge herself and smack her fist into it, but she knew her duty. She raised her hand to activate her combadge, but before she was even halfway there Qas moved more quickly than she would have believed possible, slapping her hand away and ripping the badge from her uniform, the force of his action pushing her against the console again. Qas tossed the badge carelessly aside as B'Elanna stared at him, first in surprise, then with calculation. She moved away from the console and approached him, dropping naturally into a Klingon fighting stance. *Okay,* she thought, *we'll do this the hard way.* B'Elanna growled low in her throat and lunged at him. Qas feinted and avoided her fist. B'Elanna in turn spun out of the way as Qas aimed a kick at her. They both easily avoided several more attempted blows. Qas was playing with her. He was aiming few blows at her and his defensive stance added up to little more than simple feinting, yet she still wasn't touching him -- he was not fighting like any Klingon she knew. B'Elanna saw an opening after he'd avoided a head shot. He spun away from her, momentarily exposing his back. B'Elanna aimed a double handed blow and connected hard enough to set off a painful vibration in her wrists. Qas stumbled slightly forward at the impact, then turned and looked at her impassively. He was no longer smiling widely, but a smirk played across his face. His arms hung at his sides. B'Elanna jumped forward and kicked him in the ribs with all the strength she could muster. The impact was enough to break several ribs of any Klingon or Vulcan. Again Qas stumbled slightly, but he remained standing, appearing completely unaffected. The battle rush that her Klingon side gloried in ebbed, and B'Elanna realized that something was very wrong. Qas was no ordinary Klingon. She backed slightly away from him, and his smile widened. She knew she couldn't defeat him; she felt no shame in that. Her responsibility to those aboard Voyager was what mattered now. She needed to warn them. She glanced at her combadge but she would have to pass Qas to get to it. He was standing between her and the station console. She could never get there to reactivate the computer. "You've made it too easy for me," Qas said, tracking her eyes and recognizing what she was after, but not moving. B'Elanna stared back at him. The door panel was her only chance -- all she had to do was hit the red security pad at the bottom of the panel to initiate a security alert. She kept her eyes on him to the last minute hoping to keep him from realizing her intention. Then she lunged toward the door, moving quickly and with one purpose. Her hand was mere centimeters from the pad when she was jerked off her feet and flung across the room. She hit the wall hard but managed to keep her feet under her and came right back up. She didn't see how quickly Qas had followed her until his fist connected with her jaw with bone jarring force. "It is time now for me to make use of you, Chief Engineer Torres," Qas said as he watched her slide slowly back down the wall. B'Elanna noticed again how black his eyes were, the blackness of space, as if there were nothing but emptiness behind them. For just a moment her mind flashed to a pair of blue eyes, not empty but full of promise. She tasted blood in her mouth as she pressed her hands against the wall and made one last effort to push herself up, but the dizziness that engulfed her pressed her back down again and she dropped bonelessly to the floor at Qas' feet. Her gaze fell on the far corner of the room as the fogginess began to cloud her brain, and her thought processes were no longer coherent enough to question the last thing she noticed before she lapsed into unconsciousness. The dura-plas crates were no longer there. B'Elanna woke with a start, sitting up quickly. An intense pain wracked through the back of her head to her neck and shoulders, followed by a wave a dizziness as colorful splots and blotches painted her vision. Taking deep, measured breaths, the pain slowly subsided and her vision cleared . . . virtually. There was nothing. No blue or gray hues, no light, just black. Was s
he blind? No, the room, wherever she was, was cool as if there were no lights, no sources of heat or energy. She remained still, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the blackness, but even after ten minutes there was still nothing, not even the faintest glimmer to bounce off her retina and give her some idea of her surroundings. Then all at once it came back to her. "Dammit!" she hissed tersely, recalling Qas' fist meeting her face. She gently fingered her jaw, searching for the tell- tale signs of combat: dried blood, an open cut, her skin sore to the touch, but there was nothing, not even her lip seemed swollen. She turned her head to one side in an effort to pop the kinks out of her neck caused by the uncomfortable position in which she had slept, but halted the motion as the kaleidoscope returned to her sight and the pain to the back of her skull. Waiting for the symptoms to recede, she touched the back of her head to find that a good-sized knot had formed where her head had made contact with the bulkhead aboard Voyager. *Voyager,* she thought. *This is not Voyager.* Mentally pushing away the darkness that engulfed her, she turned to her other senses for indication. The floor, she had already noted, was hard, not like the soft, carpeted ground of her own ship. The air smelled of . . . dust, was it? More like mold, though faint as if the place had not seen light in many days. The air did seem a bit more humid than was to her liking. *Thick and moist, like a Klingon ship.* Heaving an angry and frustrated sigh at this revelation, she began to feel the floor about her until her fingers came in contact with a wall. She slowly crawled to her hands and knees, ignored the color show before her, and placed a steadying hand on the bulkhead and got to her feet. Hand over hand, she worked her way along the wall until her stomach came in contact with an obstacle. *A chair,* she thought. Sitting down, she found a console lay beyond. A bit more feeling around and she discovered the console stood by a smooth, slick wall. Knocking it gently with her fist, the resounding sound of thick transparent aluminum returned. *Where the hell am I?!* Placing an elbow on the console to rest her aching head so she might contemplate her situation with some comfort, she nearly jumped out of her uniform when her environment suddenly sprang to life. The thick, mud-like mass oozed down from deck to deck until it rested formlessly in front of an access panel in a Jefferies tube running along Deck 12. Extra-sensory preceptors examined the output cables, spotted the one it sought, and formed a limb from its slippery bulk. Seeking out the circuit that by itself was almost unnecessary, it quickly snapped the sound fibers in half and moved on to the next access panel twenty meters away. Once again, a circuit was selected and sliced with ease, and the being moved on to the next. This would continue for an hour, until finally, the once strong Voyager was hanging by a thread. If only the crew knew. Like a child with a new toy, though maybe with a bit more reserve, B'Elanna touched and handled the sleek little ship. In the short time since she had inadvertently activated its main computer core, the engineer had acquired more knowledge about the technical situation of the Klingons than she would have ever hoped or needed. "Now, if only I can put it to use," she mumbled as she probed the computer for more information. At the moment, a list of schematics flew across the screen in Klingonese. Though B'Elanna might not have been able to carry on a full- fledged argument with a Klingon, it took nothing to read the simple words and phrases scrolling before her. She silently thanked her mother for insisting she learn something of the language. There didn't seem to be anything in the memory banks that would prove much use to her or Voyager. The directories consisted of cargo ships, supply vessels, probes, satellites, birds-of-prey -- She stopped as the file popped onto the screen. Opening it, she accessed the file labeled K'Vort, for she knew that was what the Gin'tak was, and displayed the structure. She examined the map for the best way of escape, best place for damage, where Tom Paris and Mikel Hudson might be -- anything she could use to their advantage. "The brig is on Deck 7, and I'm on . . ." she paused to scroll the map down, ". . . Deck 10." Surely she could make it if she stuck to the less public corridors, but she'd need a weapon first. Standing up, she scanned the small cockpit. Not seeing anything lying about, she searched the lockers until she located the one holding weapons. Picking up the first one on the rack she considered the artfully crafted edges of the blade. She was sure Klingons equipped their shuttles with more advanced weaponry than this. A phaser or disrupter had to be somewhere aboard, however she was not in the mood to find one. This would do for now. It wasn't as if she were planning to carry out any glorious battles. *Just get into the brig, get Tom and Mikel, and get back here,* she thought as the single access port slid open. Tom Paris stood in front of the captain of the Gin'tak, a lean to his stance as he was trying to keep his weight off his injured ankle. Still he wasn't having much luck; the pain throbbing in his foot was distracting him from the matter at hand. "Lieutenant Thomas Paris, correct?" Tom focused his attention on the Klingon captain. "Yep," he said with forced cheerfulness. Jinar eyed him with unbridled contempt, then covered it with a broad smile as he stood up from behind the desk. "I have been told that you are good with the bat'telh. May I inquire as to where you learned such a noble art?" "Yes, you may." Tom held a matching smile on his lips, though his cerulean eyes were icy cold. Jinar's smile dropped. "I may what?" "You may inquire as to where I learned how to use a bat'telh." The Klingon walked around his desk to stand before Tom. "Your Captain Janeway may tolerate your chutzpah, but I am not Captain Janeway." "You most certainly are not," Tom commented, giving Jinar a once-over. He didn't see Jinar's fist until it planted itself on his left cheek sending him into the bulkhead. Jinar stepped forward, grabbed Tom by his collar and lifted him to eye level. "I am not as unmerciful as some of my people. I am reasonable. However, I do have limits. So unless you wish to find out where my patience ends, you will keep your wagging tongue in your mouth, or I will cut it off. I hope we understand each other." "Perfectly," Tom croaked through the blood filling his mouth. He swallowed when Jinar let go. "Now. Since you don't seem to wish to conduct this conversation with some civility, I'll come right to my point. I want Voyager. How I get her and what happens to her crew once I do is up to you." "Why do you want her?" Tom asked with unmasked curiosity. "I am needed in the Alpha Quadrant. But apparently, for reasons I have no clue to, the Gin'tak cannot create and maintain a stable wormhole without the assistance of another ship. But this," he said indicating their surroundings with a sweeping hand, "is not worth the trouble. Your ship -- Voyager -- is. She is a magnificent vessel, and I know such vessels built by Starfleet are few and far between. So often valuable space is wasted on spacious quarters, or some unnecessary laboratory. This is not so with your ship, and this is why she will go through the wormhole with me as her captain, and not this rubbish I command." "I see. And," Tom continued, letting his sunny facade drop, "you require MY assistance in taking Voyager. Why don't you attack us with this ship? Surely she can't be that poorly equipped? She is a bird-of-prey, after all." "A bird-of-prey equipped for scientific studies, not battle," he said with disgust. "I will be perfectly frank with you, Paris, since you are in no position to relay information to your captain. If Voyager were to attack now, even with our shields up, torpedoes armed, and phasers and disrupters charged, you would win in the end. The Gin'tak is just not ready for battle of any kind, which is all the more reason I should leave this disgraceful bulk here in the Delta Quadrant, where honor has no meaning." "What makes you think you can get Voyager?" "Oh, I have no doubt I will have her. You will get her for me." Jinar sat back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together in an almost Vulcan gesture. "You will create a subspace interface with Voyager's main computer system using your access codes, render her shields and weapon's arrays useless, though not damaged, and then my crew will transport over." Tom stood silently with mouth slightly ajar, his expression one of disbelief. Jinar felt a wave of pride and smugness wash through him at the pilot's response to his plans. *And Qas said I was foolish for trying.* However, Jinar's self- righteous thoughts were quickly extinguished as Tom began a silent snicker, which soon became a full-fledged laugh. "You
-- " Tom waited to catch his breath before beginning again. "You don't know anything about the science behind the way a starship works, let alone Starfleet protocols, do you?" Jinar sat rigidly in his chair and didn't answer. By now, Tom's laughing had ceased completely and his tone was harsh. "What you are proposing I do is impossible. First, my access codes were erased, or at least blocked from Voyager's computer entirely so just such a thing could not be attempted. Whether it was ordered by the captain, or the security chief did it himself, I no longer have the ability to talk to the ship's computer. Second, even if I could interface with the computer, which I can't, orders like system shutdowns by outside sources can be performed by only one person -- Captain Janeway. Only she has the access codes for that." There was a long pause as the two men stared at each other. Then Tom continued, "Even if I could do it, there is no way in hell I'd betray Janeway, or the crew." Captain Jinar's entire demeanor was dark. He stared Tom down as if his eyes could wound him alone, but he exchanged no words. When he did speak, his voice was deep and controlled. He tapped a comm channel on his desk. "Hakod." A moment later the doors behind Tom opened and his guard entered. "You summoned me, Captain?" "Hakod, escort . . . this back to its cell. You have permission to punish any attempts at escape, or any ill-spoken words. Then you will bring the other man to me." "Yes, Captain." Hakod grabbed Tom's arm and yanked him through the doors and onto a waiting turbolift. *Since when do Klingon warriors keep puppies on birds-of-prey?* B'Elanna asked herself from her place in the shadows as two men walked past. She had only caught a few words from their conversation, but she could have sworn one had said something about puppies. *Must be discussing dinner,* she thought as she proceeded down the corridor. Now on Deck 8, B'Elanna had been fortunate enough to make it this far without being seen. Avoiding the main passages, she had been prowling through the ship for almost half an hour, avoiding any and all locations heavily populated. She crouched close to the wall; anyone watching might say she did so with the grace of a tiger on the hunt. She held the blade she had retrieved from the little shuttle at ready position as she turned the corner. Checking her back to see if she had been discovered, she ran smack into a stupidly situated outcropping in the wall. She swung around to meet what she thought was an attacker, and barely missed hitting her head again. The aching in her head had lulled considerably, but now returned with full-force. B'Elanna leaned against the bulkhead for support, willing the pain to subside. But before she had regained her bearings, the sound of footfalls caught her attention. She dove into a small open room as the footsteps turned the corner. Two figures walked by; one was obviously Klingon, with its bulking build and almost frazzled hair, but the other was more long and graceful, with short lighter hair. Forgetting about her head, she followed after the pair. His first thoughts were that Hakod had tripped, but Tom was more worried about the hard floor and his head. His guard had suddenly, without warning, plowed right into him. The force was too much for Tom, especially since it was so unexpected, and he went face-first into the ground. He hit hard, his shackled hands not doing much good in protecting his face from the floor. Hakod fell on top of him, crushing him even more. He tried to wriggle free, but the weight of the Klingon, coupled with his bound hands, kept him from moving. Shiny heeled boots came into his limited view as the owner of the small feet heaved the guard off to one side. Hands pushed him over onto his back, and he found himself staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen. "Sorry," B'Elanna whispered as she undid his cuffs. She helped him to his feet then bent back down to retrieve the knife at her feet. Tom looked from the unconscious Klingon, to the blade, to B'Elanna, then back to Hakod. "B'Elanna?" he questioned, his expression unsure. "I didn't KILL him. I just smacked him in the back of the head with the butt of the knife." Tom relaxed visibly. "Are you all right, B'Elanna?" he asked, turning his attention to her pallid and tired features. "Fine, why?" "You look ill, like you've lost some blood. Wait, how did you get here? I thought only Hudson and I had been transported over." "Qas attacked me in the ARCC, knocked me out, and transported me to this little ship in the shuttlebay. Tom," her voice became hushed with urgency, "I've been thinking that Qas might be a changeling." She let her voice trail off as Tom considered this. "What makes you think so?" B'Elanna sighed. "I've had some spare time to consider what's going on here and on Voyager. When I entered the ARCC, there were some empty crates in the corner. I had thought it was something Vorik or someone from Supply had left lying there. But then Qas came out of nowhere, and right before I blacked out, I am sure those crates were gone." "Well, maybe he was hiding behind them, and moved them when he attacked you." Tom was having a hard time believing that there was a changeling loose aboard Voyager. "Why would there be a changeling in the Delta Quadrant? For that matter, how would he have gotten here? The Klingons didn't hold them with much respect." "But -- " She stopped as the sound of voices drifted around the corner. They both looked at each other, then down at Hakod and grabbed his arms and legs, dragging him into a nearby closet before hiding in it themselves. B'Elanna shut the door and they were plunged into darkness. After a few minutes of silence as they allowed the voices to pass, their eyes grew accustomed to their dim surroundings and they could see each other. It was a tight fit; their bodies were practically pressed together. Not that either really had any objections. Their personal problems were farthest from their thoughts now. As the voices faded from hearing, Tom said, "We seem to be finding ourselves in quite a lot of closets as of late, don't we?" B'Elanna didn't answer, but to Tom's surprise, he saw in the dim light that she allowed a slight smile at his observation. She continued in a quiet voice, "Wouldn't that explain why we couldn't find him?" "You couldn't find him?" "What? Oh, that's right, you were here." She shook her head, "No, we couldn't find him. The internal sensors couldn't pick him up anywhere, and neither could tricorders. Tuvok probably has his people scouring the ship right now, but they still hadn't found any trace of Qas when I . . . left. Harry examined the transporters for a pattern signature, but there was nothing definite. It's the only explanation. Qas is a Founder!" Tom stood staring at B'Elanna, examining her countenance to see if she really believed what she was saying or just grasping at straws. Her eyes didn't flicker from his, and so he had to believe her. After a long moment he said, "Do you think the Klingons know?" B'Elanna heaved another heavy sigh, this one hitting him in the face. He smiled slightly at the feeling as she continued. "That's hard to say. I think it's evident this ship isn't being run by conventional Klingons. You could hardly call kidnapping honorable. I wouldn't put it past Captain Jinar if he were working alongside the Dominion. Maybe in exchange for ships to defeat the Romulans or Cardassians, but the entire Klingon Empire, or even a small part of it would never put aside honor for victory. It would have to be the twisted ideals of one man, and I doubt that K'Fin or even G'Ruhj, no matter how much I might dislike him, are in on this. Whatever 'this' is." "'This' is Jinar wanting to take over Voyager and use it to travel through a wormhole while the Gin'tak stabilizes it." "How do you -- " "Jinar wants MY help. He wants me to use my access codes and take all of Voyager's main systems off-line so he can board her. I told him it was impossible and that I wouldn't help him." B'Elanna nodded slowly. "All right, they want Voyager for their own purposes. But what is Qas doing now? If I'm right, and he is a changeling, Tuvok is going to have a hard time finding him, and while Security is searching the ship for a Klingon, Qas could be doing some serious damage." "But if Qas is setting Voyager up for a takeover now, why does Jinar need me? Or Hudson? Why DOES he want Hudson?" "One question at a time, Helmboy. Jinar might not be aware of the fact that Qas is a changeling. If that's true, then they might have two different agendas. Or at least one agenda and two ideas on how to achieve their goals. I think we're in more danger from Qas than from Jinar." "Hakod. Hakod! Computer! Where is Hakod?!" "Hakod is in Storage Closet 47," the computer's male voice replied. "Paris," he mumbled. Jinar turned his chair and focused on an officer standing at the comm station. "You! Go to
Storage Closet 47 and find Hakod. Now!" The Klingon hurried off to the lift. Jinar's already thin patience was reaching its limits as the minutes ticked by. He felt the need to hit something. Someone. To think that Qas had been right in not one, but two aspects of his plans was enough to make one homicidal, thought Jinar. The Duras spy had warned the captain that not even Paris would aid Klingons in taking over his own vessel. But he had also warned that intervessel control such as this would be near impossible. Jinar knew that Paris was not as indifferent to honor as he had made him out to be, but he was sure he could be persuaded to give forth some help. Now, however, Jinar was forced to accept that rendering Voyager immobile and unable to defend itself from the comfort of his own ship was not feasible. Attack was out of the question. Qas, G'Ruhj, and K'fin were being held aboard Voyager. Or were they? He had no doubt that Qas would not betray strategic information to Janeway, but what of the other two? K'Fin did not like Jinar, did not agree with his command orders. She was highly opposed to taking the Gin'tak into the wormhole so abruptly. She might deceive him, and if she could successfully convince G'Ruhj that his orders were not in the best interests of the ship, he might also side with Janeway. Jinar would be out not only his operative but also two bridge officers. The crew's loyalty might begin to waver. These possibilities did not bode well with him. "Hakod to Jinar." Jinar sprang to his feet. "Hakod, where is Paris?!" "I do not know. Someone came up behind me and knocked me unconscious." "QoH! You were stupid enough to have Paris walk behind you?!" Jinar screamed in disbelief. "No, Captain! Paris was in front of me. Someone else attacked me from behind," Hakod insisted. Jinar sat back down and thought. A mutiny so quickly? This could not be. "Where is the other? Hudson?" Someone near the back of the bridge answered. "He is still in his cell on Deck 7." "You are sure?" "Yes, Captain." Another minute passed and finally Hakod spoke again. "Captain?" Ignoring him, Jinar asked, "How many people are on board? How many life signs?" "Checking," the officer said. "The count is at 166, Captain." He sounded puzzled. "And what is the norm?" "166." *Three officers are missing, plus two prisoners. Only 165. Do we have a stowaway?* Jinar punched the panel beside him. "Doq ghuH!" The bridge was suddenly bathed in red sirens as the entire ship went into alert mode. "We have an unwanted guest. Find him and Paris and bring them to me. And put extra security on Deck 7. I don't want Hudson loose!" The couple stowed away in Closet 38 on Deck 8 were quiet. Both were thinking about how they could escape, about what they could do to prevent whatever damage Qas was doing aboard Voyager, and about keeping the ship out of the hands of the Klingons. They leaned against each other, B'Elanna's head nuzzled beneath Tom's chin. Tom managed to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer, if that were possible. He felt her sigh, but wasn't sure whether it was a frustrated sigh or a contented one. "Think of anything?" he asked. "Nothing substan -- ah!" Both jumped as the already faded light switched to red, accompanied by blaring Klaxons. "Do you get the feeling I'm being missed?" Tom asked as he pushed the closet door open, then quickly jumped back in and nearly slammed it shut. B'Elanna could see his eyes were closed and his breathing had stopped, as if in prayer. She abruptly caught her own breath as she heard the pounding footsteps of five Klingons run by. Tom waited until he was sure they had passed and weren't going to double back, grabbed B'Elanna's hand and pulled her out into the corridor. He glanced in the direction the Klingons had run while B'Elanna watched from the other direction. Seeing no one coming, Tom began down the corridor but turned back when B'Elanna pulled on his hand. "Hmm?" "Where are you going?" "I don't know. Anywhere besides waiting for them here," he said, jerking a finger behind him at the Klingons. "Why, do you know where we are?" "Deck 8. We need to find Hudson first. Are they holding him in a cell or is he here on Deck 8?" "He stayed on the turbolift after I got off; they probably took him to their brig. You wouldn't happen to know where that is?" "Deck 7. Come on." She pulled him in the direction on the turbolift. Once there, they stood on either side, waiting for anyone who might come out. When the doors opened and they saw that the lift was empty they hurried inside and B'Elanna instructed it via a control pad to take them to Deck 7. They rode in silence, both too adrenaline-pumped for small talk. The doors slid open and B'Elanna crept out slowly. The deck appeared to be deserted. She glanced back at Tom, who pulled her back into the lift and waited for the doors to close before he spoke. "Bella, they have to know we're going to try to get Hudson. They're waiting for us." "We can't leave Mikel." "But if we go down that corridor, I know we are going to get caught." He stared her down and finally she turned away to punch the bulkhead. She wished she hadn't; she suddenly became light-headed with the exertion. Seeing that she was about to pass out, Tom moved forward and grabbed her around the waist, setting her down on the floor. Thankfully, she did not lose consciousness completely, but instead tried to sit up. Helping her up against the wall, Tom took her hand and squeezed it gently. "B'Elanna?" "I'm okay." "You almost fainted." "I think Qas might have given me a concussion when he slapped me against that wall. I'm all right now." Tom took one last look at her before realizing there was nothing he could do. He pulled her up and held her to make sure she would not fall again. "What do you want to do?" "You're right, we can't risk getting Mikel now. I think we should go back to the shuttle and try to get back to Voyager." "How do you propose we get the ship out of the shuttlebay? Blast our way out?" "We're going to have to. There are only two ways to open the shuttlebay doors, either by direct order from the bridge or engineering, or by disconnecting the EPS flow from inside the bulkheads. Since I doubt they have much of a Jefferies tube system, I'd say both are pretty much out of the question, so -- " "Blasting it is. What deck?" "Deck 10." Tom tapped the pad and sent the lift down towards the shuttlebay. Just as cautious as before, they ran through the ship as fast as they could, but just as they were rounding the last corner, phaser fire erupted. "Have you figured out where she is yet? Was she transported over to the Gin'tak like Paris and Hudson?" "That's my best guess, Captain." Harry Kim sat at his console on the bridge as he reported to Captain Janeway. It was easy to tell she was angry, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to give her any bad news -- which was pretty much all he had. "All right. If the transporter rooms are surrounded by security, how'd she get over there? Personal transporter unit?" "Um . . . just a second, Captain." Harry glanced down at his console to search for signs of a site-to-site transport. *Bingo,* he thought. "Captain, approximately two hours ago, an ACB was detected in the Auxiliary Reaction Control Center." "It didn't show up on your sensors?" "No. It's only showing up on the refined-energy scans. We usually don't have to monitor those." Janeway walked up the ramp to stand beside Kim. "Is there anything else we could have missed? Anything Qas might be able to use as a cloak? We know he was in the ARCC, so focus your scans there." Harry let out a sigh through clenched teeth. He went through every scan the internal sensors had made. "The only thing that might be considered out of the ordinary is an extensive mass drop and gain around that time that the dampers actually had to compensate for, but not by much. It's possible it could have just been something thrown, if there had been a struggle." "But not definitely?" "No, ma'am." Harry watched his captain and could have sworn he could see the gears turning. "Let's say for now that this fluctuation of mass isn't attributed to a desk being flung about, and is Qas. I don't think he's so large that the inertial dampers would kick in, so what else could he have done to cause it?" No one answered. For a full minute the bridge was silent except for the bleeps of the computer. Something was trying to push itself through Kathryn's subconscious and into the open, but it just wouldn't come. Finally, her initial conversation with Captain Jinar came to mind. *Obviously you have been out of contact with your Federation for some time. The treaty was broken, and there was war between our people. But do not worry. Now that the Cardassians and the Dominion have formed an alliance, the Klingon Empire and the Federation are allies again.* Carefully evaluating all the evidence, Janeway admitted to herself that there was only one rather unpleasant answer that fit
all the facts. The captain met the eyes of her Vulcan security chief as she said,"What if Qas were a changeling?" Harry stared at her almost dumbfounded. "Well, uh . . . that would explain the mass shifts if he went from something large to small, or vice versa." "Captain, that might give sufficient explanation to that aspect of the puzzle, but we must also consider whether it is reasonable to assume a changeling would be in the Delta Quadrant. Jinar, as well as the other Klingons, seem to have a strong aversion to any Dominion presence," Tuvok said from Tactical. "How often is the presence of a spy known, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked with the hint of a smile. Tuvok's only reply was the arching of one eyebrow. "Chakotay's right," Janeway said as she returned to her chair. "Jinar might not be aware of Qas. Let's act on this theory. Is there anything in the tactical library that indicates there is a way to constrain a changeling?" Tuvok was the first to speak. "Since full knowledge of the changelings as the Founders was relatively new when we left the Alpha Quadrant, there is very little information on the subject. However, Starfleet was experimenting with wide-ban controlled phaser blasts as weapons against them." "Something along the lines of phaser showers, which would cause the changeling to return to its liquid form," Harry said. "Tuvok, start working with your people on this. Go with whatever frequency and setting you think is necessary. I want this changeling found." "I have already initiated the procedure, Captain. Ensigns Simms and Molina are modifying some phaser rifles as we speak," said Tuvok, heading for the turbolift. "One step ahead of me, Tuvok? Or should I say, one step ahead of me again?" the captain asked. He was saved from responding by the closing doors. An alarm bleep sounded from Tactical as the turbolift doors closed behind Tuvok. The woman taking over, Crewman Topash, halted the noise. "Captain, I'm detecting phaser fire in the aft shuttlebay aboard the Gin'tak." "Onscreen." She almost had to drag him into the shuttle, but at least he was still conscious. B'Elanna helped him to the other chair, then took the helm and fired up the engines as best she knew how. The console language was in Klingonese, however she didn't feel this was a Klingon ship. Its lines were not fierce enough, and there was too much memory dedicated to non-combat functions. She pressed what she hoped were thrusters and grinned when the ship lifted off the shuttlebay floor. The sound of hand phasers blasting the hull sounded distant and of little concern. She maneuvered the tiny shuttle around so it was facing the doors, then located the phaser controls and targeted them. "I hope our friends are smart enough to move out before being sucked out into space," Tom mumbled through clenched teeth. B'Elanna glanced over at him, saw now that most of the top left side of his uniform had been burned off and his light golden skin was singed to a mixture of dark brown and blood red. It only worked to make her more determined. "So do I," she said, not entirely meaning it. She blasted the door open with only two bursts, then shot them into the safety of space. Voyager lay just ahead and she spared no time in getting around to the shuttlebay, allowing Voyager to act as a shield against any attack the Gin'tak might make. She was eternally thankful when the blue fog of the tractor beam engulfed them. She cut the engines and let the larger ship do her work. As Voyager's walls swallowed them up, she went to Tom's side, taking his hand and pulling it away from his chest to get a better look at the damage. To her surprise, he smiled at her. "It's not as bad as it looks." "I'm having a hard time believing that." As if to prove her point, he grimaced and she saw the muscles in his bare, burnt stomach contract as a wave of pain washed through him. "My point." "Hey -- " he began, the smile returning, though apparently with effort. "Shh," she hushed, placing a finger on his lips. "And don't -- " Their conversation was put on pause as a transporter beam took over. When B'Elanna looked around again, they were in Sickbay. "Don't what?" Tom asked. "Don't smile." "Lieutenants, I must say I'm happy to see you again." Both looked up to see the doctor beside them. "Lieutenant Torres, if you would please sit on that biobed over there. Kes will tend to your injuries." "Yes, Doctor." She left Tom reluctantly, and lay down on her bed where she could see him. Hypospray in hand, the doctor injected something into Tom's neck and he fell asleep. "You petaQ!! You let Paris escape! And on top of that, you let Torres escape! Are you that cowardly and stupid that a human and a mutt can best you?! Wounded ones at that?!" No one spoke. No one looked at Captain Jinar. They had failed, it was as simple as that. The eight Klingon officers assigned to Deck 10 stood in a row on the bridge listening to their captain scream and yell in their faces. Not one flinched. To do so would be further proof of their cowardliness. "None of you is ever to step foot on my bridge again. You are all assigned to maintenance and waste detail, until I am no longer in command. You are dismissed." They left as hurriedly as possible. "Open a channel to Voyager." He waited for the comm officer to answer. "They are not responding." Jinar let out a growl. "T'Taj, to the bridge." With head fully healed and uniform back in order, B'Elanna stood beside Tom's bed watching him sleep. The doctor was in his office, awaiting the arrival of the captain after her delayed meeting with G'Ruhj. Kes had left half an hour ago. It was just the two of them. B'Elanna lay a hand on his chest, the soft feel of the new skin and hair soothing her angry nerves. She gently ran her fingers through the golden curls, careful not to pull too hard. Dressed in blue Sickbay issue boxers, she gazed on the full range of his lean body. And yet, she was more content to watch his face. He was dreaming now, his fair eyelashes fluttering every now and then. It was a contented sleep, with apparently no consequences sprouting from their time aboard the Gin'tak. She took his left hand in her right and squeezed gently. Apparently too hard, however, as his eyes fluttered one last time then opened fully. "Were you planning on taking advantage of me in my weakened state, Lieutenant?" he asked playfully, squeezing her hand in return. "The thought had crossed my mind. I'm sorry I woke you." "No, thank you. I was just getting to the good part of my dream, but I don't want fantasies." "And just what was this dream about?" Tom sat up slowly. "I'll give you three guesses," he said, his expression telling full well what his dream involved. "Hmm." Tom knew she wouldn't take him up on his game. He glanced around Sickbay, and his eyes settled on the tray beside him. On it were three shiny objects: the two pips he wore on his collar and a bracelet. He picked it up, deciding it was time to broach a new subject and settle it this time. B'Elanna couldn't help but catch her breath when she saw the bracelet. She had been hoping he'd forget about the bangle, but, *Thank you, Doctor* no. He undid the fasten on the bracelet, glanced at B'Elanna's hand resting on the bed, and picked it up. When she saw that he was going to put it on her, she tried to pull her hand away but he held tight. "Bella. Please," he whispered. She closed her eyes and said, "I don't deserve this." "No, you have things confused. I don't deserve YOU. But I guess fate screwed up this time around, and you're here with me. Please. Please." His voice was mesmerizing. With every plea his utterings became more and more faint until finally she could only see his lips move. He pulled her hand again, and this time she let him put the bracelet on. He then pulled her down gently, brought her lips to his and kissed her tenderly, then moved his lips to her forehead. When he pulled away, her smile was uncertain but there. Tom ran a finger over her lips, causing the smile to widen. They stopped, however, when the doors to Sickbay parted and Captain Janeway came in. She looked at them, smiled, and nodded a greeting before approaching. The doctor soon followed. "Mr. Paris, I see you are awake." The doctor opened a tricorder and began to scan his patient. "Good. You'll be happy to know that I, once again, have saved you from death, cured you of serious injury, replaced all vital organs, et cetera, et cetera." "Doctor -- " said Torres and Janeway in unison. The doctor looked up from his tricorder to B'Elanna and Kathryn, took note of the warning, shut his mouth and returned to work. Janeway turned back to Tom. "How are you doing, Tom?" "I think I've been worse." "I think you've been better," B'Elanna added. "As long as you're all right," Kathryn said, amused that they could still quarrel. "I'll live. Just like I always do." "Of course, we need you." Kathryn smiled, then paused before continuing. "I hate to jump right in on this, bu
t our problems just seem to be getting worse. First, however . . . where's Hudson?" "We had to leave him behind. He was in the brig and there was no way we could get to both him and the shuttlebay without being caught," B'Elanna explained. Before Janeway could go on, B'Elanna said, "Captain -- Qas is a changeling. I'm sure of it." "That's just what I was getting to. You're sure?" "I don't think I could prove it in a court, but if you are willing to take circumstantial evidence . . . ." "That's all I need. Tuvok's searching for a changeling this very minute. Do either of you know what Jinar wants?" "Jinar wants Voyager," Tom spoke up. "He wants to board us and take over. The Gin'tak will create the wormhole but remain here while Jinar takes Voyager into the Alpha Quadrant. For some reason, both ships won't make it." "Yes, we've figured that out. K'Fin is working on our wormhole problems right now. I just spoke with G'Ruhj. He didn't say anything about wanting to acquire Voyager for themselves. He did say that he felt Jinar was planning something. Evidently, he was right. Question is, what do we do about it? I am willing to abandon this chance of getting home, though ONLY if it's necessary, but I'm not willing to leave the Klingons with a captain not fit for command. On top of that, there's a changeling in our midst." Tom swung his legs over the side of the bed. "If it comes down to it, Captain, we can defeat the Gin'tak. Jinar admitted to me they aren't equipped for battle." "That's one thing going for us, but I don't want to resort to phasers just yet. Let's convene in the conference room -- that is, if you two are feeling up to returning to duty." "Or more to the point," the doctor finally said, "If the CMO will let you leave." "Of course, CMO. Tell them they can leave," Captain Janeway said. The doctor stared at her, not able to tell if she were kidding or not. At last he said, "You must both rest for a few hours first, and neither of you is to set foot off this ship for the rest of the week. I'm sick of seeing you two. Next time either of you comes in here with an injury, whether concussion or paper cut," the doctor raised his voice as Tom jumped off the bed, "I will put you both on report, and confine you to your quarters in a body cast!" The doctor continued with his threats while Tom changed back into uniform. Then, joining the captain and chief engineer at the door, bid the doctor a hasty good-bye and left. Tom noticed an unusual silence as he and the two women walked towards the turbolift. He couldn't think of any small talk, so he decided to keep his mouth shut. Often it did him good. Risking a quick glance, he saw B'Elanna look down at the bracelet, and smile, perhaps even a bit sadly. *She really is the most beautiful woman in the world,* he thought. *And I do love her more than life itself.* She loved him too, so he hoped. He felt guilty that he had pressured her with the bracelet. *Maybe I'm going too fast,* he worried. *She's probably feeling overwhelmed by all this, not to mention there's a Klingon that looks like her mother on the ship.* From what he had heard, she had been just as much of a reject from the Klingon culture as she had been from the human one. This also may have made her a little more stressed, and made it easier for her to lash out at him. If he lost B'Elanna . . . if she weren't feeling the way he was now . . . . Before any other worries could pass through his mind, his love's eyes caught his blue ones, and she grinned. Tom smiled back, and knew that she loved him. "Lieutenant, would you like me to escort you to your quarters?" Janeway answered for her. "On the contrary, I want her to escort YOU to YOUR quarters, then I want her to return to her own quarters. She looks very tired. You are both to rest. Report to the conference room in two hours." "The Klingons have certainly proved they aren't diplomats," Janeway stated as the conference started. "I would rather not fight against a bird-of-prey. I'm assured the Federation doesn't need any more trouble with the Klingons if this rumor about the Dominion and the Cardassians allying is true." For one of those rare times in her three year journey, Kathryn was almost grateful they were stuck thousands of light years away from everything they called home. Yes, they had troubles here, but thinking of all that was happening in the Alpha Quadrant made her head spin. Firmly Kathryn pushed the memory of Earth out of her mind. It was something she had trained herself to do; she couldn't afford, as Tuvok would say, to "look less than perfect in front of your crew." She wanted to go home so badly, and here was yet another opportunity. A chance that once again she could embrace all that was near and dear to her. But she couldn't completely trust the Klingons. She wished she could trust K'Fin at least, but as Tuvok would remind her, the enemy can have many different faces. It was good advice, and even if the Klingons would cooperate, could both ships make it through the wormhole? She glanced around at the people before her. All of her senior staff were present as well as the Gin'tak first officer, with G'Ruhj next to her. "If Jinar has gone as far as having his men kidnap my crew, my assumption would be that he means war, but this isn't like the Klingons. Taking a hostage is not an honorable act for them. Why did he, then?" "Jinar has no honor," K'Fin spat. "He has disgraced his House." "But why?" Janeway questioned the Klingon woman. "What is his motive?" "Voyager," Tom spoke. In a slightly louder tone, "Voyager." "What would he want with Voyager? I'm assured there are newer, faster, more technologically advanced ships available in the Alpha Quadrant by now, Starfleet and Klingon." "It is a worthy vessel," G'Ruhj told her. "A vessel worthy of battle." "I just hope it doesn't have to be worthy," she muttered. "If this is what they are planning," Tuvok voiced. "An invasion could be imminent." "I don't like any of this," Kathryn stated. "We need to at least get Mike Hudson back." B'Elanna woke. She felt groggy and sick, ready to throw up. Everything around her was dark and seemed cold, so cold. *Where am I?* The last thing she could remember was walking into her quarters and finding Qas. With a growl, she attempted to move, only to find she was immobilized. Once again she lost consciousness. About a half an hour later the meeting ended. Exhausted, Tom Paris walked out, B'Elanna at his side. Of all those present, she was the only one in a cheerful mood, surprisingly. This was strange enough for anyone at the moment, let alone Torres. She had remained quiet during most of the conference, only speaking, when pressed, to give a brief explanation about her theories of Qas being a changeling, letting Tom report on what had happened to them on the Gin'tak. After a long discussion and a review of the dictates of logic from Tuvok, the captain had decided they should try to negotiate with Captain Jinar before going to battle stations. Of course, that was probably the captain's original plan anyway, so why did it take so long just to agree on it? They had come up with no other viable plan to rescue Hudson. He sighed. "You okay?" B'Elanna asked him, concerned. "Tiring?" she smiled. "Something like that," he grinned. "You?" "I need sleep," she mumbled. "This whole thing is beyond me." There was a brief pause. "Are you on duty in about a half an hour?" "Not that I know of," Paris answered. "And if I were, the doctor would probably confine me to quarters, and then plan my murder. Who programmed that guy, anyway?" Torres threw her hands up in the air, proclaiming innocence. "Not me." "Yeah, I'm off duty. Why?" "Can you come to my quarters?" she requested. Tom shrugged. "Sure." "Okay," B'Elanna smiled. "I have something I need to tell you. Meet me there in ten minutes." Paris branched off toward his own quarters. *And things aren't crazy enough.* Once again, Torres woke. The only difference was that this time the darkness was gone, but it was just as cold, if not more than before. Freezing, for that matter. Her Klingon blood made her shiver. It reminded her of the time she and Tom had been stuck in the Argala habitat. He had forced her to go on, through all of it. She remembered the moment she had been ready to give up; Tom had pushed her on, saved her life. But Tom wasn't here right now, and that was a long time ago, before they were together. And she was, well, maybe not mad at him, but close to it. She was in her quarters, or at least that's what it looked like. She looked at the room closer. Yes, it was her quarters. She had a hard time seeing due to Qas blocking her view. He smirked. "I'm glad to see you're awake, Lieutenant." Her uniform jacket was gone, as well as her combadge. "Qas!" she growled as she vainly attempted to move. "Not so fast!" he laughed at her struggling figure. "Please stay and talk awhile!" She was lying on the floor; Qas wasn't on top of her, he was actu
ally over her. Nothing was pinning her down, but she couldn't move. "Coward!" she yelled. "If you're so Klingon, then fight me!" "Ah, that would be a little too easy, wouldn't it?" "You're no Klingon!" she spat angrily. "Even I can see you have no honor!" "You are in no position to be testing me, but you are right, Lieutenant. You are right." Before B'Elanna could even blink, Qas melted into a pile of gray goo. He then reappeared as a humanoid, and she gasped in shock. "You ARE a -- " "Changeling?" the creature she once knew as Qas asked. "Yes I am, and if you don't cooperate I swear by the Great Link you both will pay." "Both?" she demanded, but she was already fading back into unconsciousness. Nervously, Tom Paris made his way towards B'Elanna's quarters. She had said she had something to tell him. *The only problem is, that can be either good or bad with her,* he thought. Before he had been abducted to the Gin'tak, she had seemed rather mad at him. *I shouldn't have pressured her with the bracelet.* Yet on the Gin'tak she seemed willing enough, and at the meeting she seemed to be in an incredibly good mood for the current situation. He loved B'Elanna Torres. Unlike so many other women he had met, she was strong and not just in body. B'Elanna had had a tough childhood, but it had toughened her soul along with her body. Tom hadn't been extremely popular when he was younger, but he had at least had friends, and more importantly later, dates. B'Elanna, on the other hand, had had to make it through on her own. She had overcome her heritage, at least to a certain degree. She could at least control it better. Tom couldn't put a definite reason on why he loved her so much. *Well, is there really supposed to be an official reason?* he pondered. Maybe it was because they had both gone through many of the same things: being cast out of Starfleet, for one, not being able to live up to their parent's expectations, though in different ways. Being thought of as an outcast; being someone nobody really gave a damn about. This had changed for both on Voyager. Tom wasn't sure whether she enjoyed her work as much as she enjoyed knowing she was needed. As for himself, Paris was grateful just for a second chance. *Here goes nothing. Just to get it over with,* Tom thought, pushing the button, notifying Torres he was there. "Tom, is that you?" "The one and only," he answered. "Well come in!" she exclaimed. With a knot in his stomach, Paris entered. B'Elanna was sitting on her bed smiling. She looked beautiful. *So far, so good.* "You wanted to tell me something?" he asked. "In a minute, why be so rushed?" She motioned for him to sit down next to her. "Why not?" he answered as he sat down. "Where's your bracelet?" "You feeling okay?" she answered with a question. "Fine," he answered. "Why?" "After you got hurt on the Klingon ship, I started to get worried." "Last I checked, I was alive," he replied. If he knew B'Elanna, Tom was sure she was stalling for time. That wasn't like her, she was more often straight down to the point. He decided to not worry about it. *If she's being friendly and not giving me a bloody nose, I think I should just count my blessings.* Smiling, she ruffled her fingers through his blond hair. Their eyes met for a moment, and Tom gave her a mischievous, boy-like grin. Before he could react, she was kissing him. *If this is what she wanted to tell me, I honestly don't mind,* he thought. "I'm glad you came," his love told him. "And I wanted to apologize." "For what?" he asked. He should be the one apologizing. "For acting the way I have, I guess." "It's fine, and you are beautiful, B'Elanna," Tom assured her. Moving closer, he kissed her, long and hard. A long moment passed, and Paris enjoyed every nanosecond of it as he carefully embraced her. "I do have something to tell you. Actually, to show you." "Which is?" "You'll see, you'll see." B'Elanna led him to the closet, still smiling. Casually, she opened it. Tom gasped in shock. There lay his love. There lay B'Elanna, the bracelet on her wrist. She looked unconscious, and she was breathing slowly, almost not at all. Before he could look back to the woman whom he had just kissed, she was gone. Another person replaced her. "Qas!" he exclaimed. The Klingon put something similar to a cortical stimulator to her neck, and held it there for a moment as whatever was in there seeped into her. Paris was too astounded to do anything. His eyes burned with anger. To think that he had been kissing him-her-it- less than a minute ago! A rage built up in him, and almost not knowing what he was doing, he landed a punch in Qas' nose. Nothing happened. No blood showed, and the man didn't even flinch. Tom moved his fist to try again, when Qas interrupted him. "I would cooperate, if I were you," he said in a very Klingon way. Slowly, Paris brought down his hand. Qas held up the device he had just used on B'Elanna. "You see this? Three hours ago I injected her with a lethal poison. Nothing can save her with one exception." He held up the object. "This is the only remedy." Tom gritted his teeth. "What do you want me to do?" The changeling smirked. "Voyager. I need you to get Voyager for me." "Are you crazy?" Paris demanded. "If you think I'm going to -- " Qas held up another device. "This contains another dose of what I just gave that shmiel. I was planning on not using it, but you could force me to." "If you think I'm going to betray Voyager, then -- " "It is your choice." Qas looked at Tom long and hard. "Will you do it?" Tom said nothing. This explained everything. She had been acting too cheerful. Qas smiled. "I suppose you have made your choice." Carefully, he picked up the device and just fingered it for a moment. He slowly moved it towards her neck. *Bella, forgive me!* Tom prayed. Qas put it to her body, and just he was about to inject it -- " "Don't!" Paris screamed. He couldn't let her die. "The remedy in exchange for the ship, " Qas said calmly. Tom took a deep breath. "I'll do it." "Oh, and don't try telling any of your Starfleet friends." He melted, and almost completely disappeared. "I have ways of knowing." Tom was horrified when Qas told him his first task. "You want me to what?!?!" he exclaimed. "I suppose you still want the remedy? I think I have the other dose of poison around here somewhere." Tom growled. "You will not get away with this!" "Please, don't threaten me. I would hurry if I were you. She won't live forever without the remedy." *Damn you, Qas!* he mentally screamed. Paris looked at his love, lying unconscious on the closet floor. *Yeah, we've been getting ourselves into a lot of them lately, Bella.* Silently, he kissed her on the forehead, then tenderly picked her up and laid her on her bed. *What have I done?* Paris found his opportunity as he walked back to his quarters an hour later. The only other person in the long corridor was the captain. Tom stepped up his pace. "Mind if I walk with you?" he asked the older woman. "Sure, I'd enjoy the company. It's better than the Klingons', at least." "I thought you didn't mind K'Fin and G'Ruhj," Tom voiced. Last he checked, the captain was actually getting along pretty well with both. "Oh, neither of them are any trouble," Janeway assured him. "But Jinar, to put it lightly, is not too much of a diplomat." "Did you make any progress with getting Mikel back?" he questioned. He was worried about him, and was beginning to feel a little guilty about abandoning him on the Gin'tak. "It took me at least an hour to get Jinar to admit that Hudson was ON the Gin'tak, which isn't very honorable of a Klingon, and it took me a good part of the rest of my shift just to get him to negotiate. I'm exhausted." They both continued in silence for a moment. Paris saw the captain glance around, noticing the phaser at his belt. "Tom," she spoke in a surprised tone. "You're armed." "With all that's been going on, I thought it might not be a bad idea," he suggested. "Yes, from a military point of view I'd agree, but I don't want the Klingons to think that -- " It was his chance. As quick as lightning, Tom had the weapon out and was holding it to Janeway's neck. "Lieutenant, put the phaser down," she ordered. An angry look shot through her eyes and hit him hard when he refused to do so. "This isn't how it looks," he sighed, pressing the weapon harder against her. "I wish I could explain." "Then why don't you?" she interrogated. "There's too much at stake and -- " He had underestimated her strength. With a mighty shove she had him almost on the floor. He swung around and aimed for her stomach. Janeway ducked and narrowly missed his fist. She rolled onto the floor and tapping her combadge, she began to speak, but Tom cut her off by managing to grab the small object and hurl it towards the other side of the corridor. She managed to get on to her knees and crawl over to the badge, but before she could make it, Paris was literally on top of her. Taking a deep b
reath, with a growl she pushed him over so she was on the top. Both of his arms were trapped under her muscled body. "You're stronger than I thought," he commented. "Don't test me," she snapped. She had him pinned down, but she couldn't keep him that way long, or get to the badge and still have him in that position. "Look, this wasn't my idea," he tried. "Oh, then whose was it?" "I can't tell you," was the only answer he could give. *Forgive me,* he mentally thought to her. *B'Elanna!* The thought of his love gave him strength. Right then, this very moment, she was dying. If he didn't do this, B'Elanna Torres would die, and it wouldn't be a matter of chance, it would be his fault. He, Tom Paris, in a way would have killed her, and he couldn't live with that. *So what if I spend the next 70 years in the brig?* He gritted his teeth. She began to shift her weight to the left side. *If I could just get my right hand free, I could get to the phaser.* Janeway was also heavier than he thought. *I guess all that time she spent in Starfleet was actually worth something.* Tom attempted to roll to his side; the captain's body crushed even harder on his lungs, but he had to live with that pain at least for now. This gave his arms just barely enough room to move. He felt her inch closer to the badge. Paris knew if she got to it, not only would security get here, but Qas wouldn't give him the remedy and B'Elanna would die. Come to think of it, he'd probably also be killed in the process. *Aren't I lucky?* Tom managed to get his hand to his phaser. Now his only problem was getting it out from under him, and firing it before Janeway could grab it. "Lieutenant, if you would please give me your combadge and stop your attack, I will get off," the captain offered. "I can wait here for a while, you know," he stalled. "And so can I. How long do you think it's going to be before someone else walks this way and notices this?" "Hopefully long enough," he thought out loud. He inched the phaser to the edge of his upper leg. *I sure hope this thing is set on stun,* he prayed, *and may God forgive me.* He now had his arm, and the phaser free. With a wild yell, he brought it up from under both of their bodies and closing his eyes, fired. Mikel Hudson sat on the bunk in the cramped quarters thinking. *Dangnabbit! Once again I failed in my assignment. Tuvok is not going to be happy.* The darkness of the bird-of-prey was different from the bright hallways and plushness of Voyager. It smelled and was musty. He couldn't believe that people spent months on these things. Thank God, the voyager crew wasn't stuck in this thing for 70 years. He laid his head back. Gods, he wished Ethe were here. The door scraped open, the noise grating on Mikel's ears. In walked the navigator, T'Taj. The Klingon held himself stiffly as though he had recently been in an argument. Mikel nervously ran his hand through his dark curly hair. T'Taj's grim features perturbed him. "I have been asked to re- interrogate you." The words were spoken with a bit of impatience and a lot of hatred. Mikel took a moment to take a steadying breath. "I told Jinar everything I know. Paris was right. Our codes would have been changed. I can't do anything for you." He set his eyes on the Klingon's face, connecting with T'Taj's. "I know. If that petaQ knew anything about being in command, he would too." The bitterness that leaked into his voice startled Mikel. He lowered his guard slightly. "Tell me, Ensign, about Lieutenant Paris." Mikel's guard immediately went up again. He stood up intending to look important and threatening. "What do you want to know and why?" said Mikel, giving T'Taj the look Ethan called his "mother look." With all the suspicion he could find, he slanted his eyes, put his hands on his hips, and set his jaw. This particular look sent Marcos running for Tuvok. He only hoped that the Klingon wouldn't want to break his neck for this display of defiance. The Klingon threw back his head and gave a hearty laugh. "My mother gave me that look," he replied. Mikel's mouth slowly curved up into a slight smile. Captain Janeway saw the phaser coming towards her and quickly used her hand to block the blow. She heard a sickening crackle of bones as Paris screamed in pain. The shot harmlessly hit a bulkhead. Janeway used all her strength to take a blow at Paris' head. In a real fight with Paris, she knew she'd be no match for him. Why would he pull his punches? His cerulean eyes were tormented. *He looks like he really doesn't want to be doing this,* she thought. His eyes suddenly cleared; she knew that meant trouble. He threw his forearm under her neck. Her mind was whirling as she delivered several crashing blows to Paris' face. He had tears running down his face. "I can't do it." The whisper was so soft; Janeway wasn't sure she heard correctly. She hit him once more. The last blow to the head knocked Paris unconscious. *And it is a KO, ladies and gentlemen,* Janeway thought to herself. She crawled over to her combadge and tapped it. "Janeway to security, meet me in Sickbay. Janeway to Transporter Room 1. Emergency transport for two to Sickbay." A deep voice answered her. "Aye, aye Captain, Zoomo out." She felt the tingle of the transporter as she rematerialized in Sickbay. "Doctor, how is he?" Janeway held herself tightly as Kes tenderly treated her knuckles. The sterile smell of the room sometimes got to her, however today she hardly noticed. The tall, pale man stood out amongst the gray walls and consoles. His black uniform was standard but sharper looking than most uniforms. "I must say, Captain, you did a number on him. I've picked up some slang from Mr. Paris. Did I use that phrase correctly?" "Yes, you did. Now, Doctor, how is Mr. Paris?" The agitation leaked into her voice. The doctor reared back in affront as Kes stepped in, her eyes a bit worried. "Tom's going to be fine. Aside from the injuries inflicted during your struggle, he had a mild stress headache. However, there is no mental correlation to his attack on you." She gazed with worry on the still form on the bed. "He should be waking up soon." "Zoomo, this is the captain. Transport Mr. Paris to the brig." The deep voice on the other end acknowledged the order with slight surprise. *Hmm . . . Zoomo. Last name on the crew manifest, first name on the Eligible Bachelors list,* the captain thought to herself. *He always seems to be alone though.* "Tuvok, meet me in my ready room." "On my way, Captain." Tuvok's disembodied voice calmed her nerves. *What should I do about Mr. Paris?* she thought. K'Fin sat looking at the data she had just found in the databases. There it was, the solution. "Captain Janeway, may I see you for a moment, please? I think I might have found a way to get us both back to the Alpha Quadrant. "On my way, Commander." K'Fin looked over at G'Ruhj. "We need the Gin'tak and the Targ. It won't work any other way." "I understand." His face was grim as he thought of ways to get back on the Gin'tak. "So you see," said T'Taj to Hudson, "I believed Paris was dishonorable. However, I have reason to believe that Jinar lied to me. Did Paris really kill three people over a woman?" The Klingon ended his tale of entrapment. There was something about this Klingon that reminded Mikel of Lieutenant Paris and Chakotay at the same time; it was very disconcerting. However, the trust T'Taj had just shown deserved the same kind of trust. Hudson looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, he did have an accident that killed three of his friends. It was pilot error, but they said his flying was commendable. He saved four other people when the shuttle went down instead of losing the whole crew. I know that Lieutenant Paris is an honest and honorable man. He is one of four men I would trust with my life." The Klingon looked at him. "One of four? Who are the other three?" "My partner, Ethan Simms; my lover, Marcos; and our security chief, Tuvok." "What about his intentions to your chief engineer, Lieutenant Torres?" "As far as scuttlebutt is concerned, they are currently seeing each other. But let me tell you, they can get pretty hot and heavy when they're alone. My partner and I could tell you a few . . . mm . . . sorry, sir." Hudson slowly turned red. Spilling the facts concerning the two lieutenants to Ethan was one thing; to a stranger, another. "I have been lied to. That dishonorable dog. I will have his command for this." T'Taj jumped up. The cat-like gracefulness reminded Mikel of Lieutenant Torres. "Um, sir, we need a plan." Mikel was hesitant in voicing this thought. "We don't need a plan. We only need a bat'telh and bravery." A feral grin settled on the savage face. "So you see Captain, if we look for a slight concentration of chroniton particles and these slight elevations in verteron emissions, we'll find an old wormhole." Captain Janeway leaned over the schematics on the padd in front of her. "Good work. Commander, have Harry look for these
readings in the surrounding space. Before we can open it, we will have to get Captain Jinar to agree." "Captain, it is unwise to tell Jinar the specifics of our discovery. He would not understand them. Also I worry about his honor." "I'll have to think about it. Commander, where is B'Elanna?" Both K'Fin and Chakotay looked at her puzzled. "I haven't seen the lieutenant since the senior staff meeting." Chakotay's admission worried Janeway as her neck hairs began to stand on end. Hadn't Paris murmured something about always failing the ones he loved? At the time Janeway had thought he meant her, now she wasn't so sure. "Chakotay I want you to find her, asap. Commander K'Fin, why don't you go get something to eat?" "They're not serving gelatin, are they?" The revolted look that crossed the Klingon's face made Janeway want to chuckle. "No, I believe tonight's feast is fried leola root and mashed grabza leaves." "No one has turned purple yet, have they?" "She learns quickly," Chakotay muttered under his breath. "You're dismissed, Chakotay. No, I believe tonight's meal is quite edible. Dismissed." As the door hissed shut, Janeway sat behind her desk to recap the day's happenings. *I only hope everyone survives this crisis.* Janeway's thoughts strayed to her missing crew member, Hudson. He had always been remarkably reliable. He had done an admirable job with the Borg ship and then later with the whole incident with finding himself locked in her quarters. She knew him personally; they were closer than captain and crewman. She cared about him and she would have called him her friend. *I'll get you out of there alive, Mikel, I promise.* Mikel carefully scooted his frame closer to the massive Klingon in front of him. The Klingon's stride was long and proud. Even with his own long legs, Hudson was having trouble keeping up with T' Taj. They were almost to the bridge and Mikel's heart started to pound harder. Paris didn't have to open his eyes to know he was in the brig. The bright glare of the security lights flooded through his eyelids. There was a faint feel of guiltiness that seemed to seep from the furniture. Maybe that was just his feelings about the place that it seemed to seep into him. He could hear the faint hum of the security forcefield glazing the wall just a few feet in front of him. There was a slight smell of alcohol that reminded Paris that the brig was mainly used for drunks. He sighed. This was worse than Caldik Prime. He'd had a choice then, now he was condemned. He was going to lose the girl and he had had no choice. He knew then Tuvok was staring at him. He didn't need to open his eyes to realize the Chief of Security had come to question him. He slowly opened his eyes. Tuvok stood unmoving in front of the forcefield, his face impassive. Slowly, one eyebrow rose. "What? Are you visiting the dungeon, Tuvok?" With some of his old charm, Paris put on his defensive mask. "Do you wish to tell me your motives for attacking the captain?" Tuvok's voice was level. Paris opened his mouth to speak, but he then closed it and shook his head. "I can't, Tuvok." "Perhaps later, then." It wasn't a question. It was more like a demand for answers at a later date. Tuvok turned on his heels and paused when he heard Paris mutter, "Definitely later, sir." He then strode with dignity out of the brig. Commander K'Fin looked suspiciously at the food slightly wiggling on the plate before her. She knew it wasn't gelatin because at least it smelled all right. This particular mixing of food didn't seem to be a favorite with the crew. As she gazed around the mess hall, she noticed that most had replicated meals. She wished she had some rations. Silently taking a breath, she jammed a fork full of food into her mouth. Her taste buds exploded as an abhorrent taste sent her body the signal to gag. Leaning over her plate she spit out the gray goo. Coughing to remove the last remaining pieces from her mouth, she jumped when water appeared at her elbow. She looked up in the deepest set of dark brown eyes she had ever seen. The husky tone that followed rocked her Klingon soul. "Sorry, I was assigned warning duty tonight." She growled in her throat in sexual awareness, then coughed to cover it when she realized where she was. "I wouldn't blame you for being mad at me. That stuff is awful." He smiled sympathetically at her. "What can I get you from the replicator? How about a plate full of gagh and a raktajino?" "That would be very kind of you. Thank you." She wasn't sure what to make of this tanned human. His face was very kind and open. He always seemed to have a smile. He milled around the room with the confidence few people possess. He brought back the tray with her iced coffee and still wiggling worms. He slid into the seat across from her. "I'm Lonzo. What's your name?" He looked into her eyes and for a moment she thought she might lean across and bite him. "I'm K'Fin, daughter of Rogh of the house of Min'r." "Ahh, the elusive Klingon scientist. It's nice to meet you, K'Fin. If you'll excuse me, I have holodeck time. I hope you enjoy the gagh. Have . . . honorable dreams." With a quick smile and a comical wink, he left her to her food. *What a weird man,* K'Fin thought to herself. She turned back to her food as a blonde woman and an auburn haired man walked up to her table. "Excuse me Commander, I'm Ethan Simms. This is my fiancee, Janine Lamont. I'm Ensign Hudson's partner. Could I ask you a few questions?" He seemed to hesitate. "I know you've spoken to the captain, but I need to know. Will they hurt Mikel?" His concern touched K'Fin. *It must be that time of the month. I always lose my edge. Feeling touched and aroused among humans. Ha!* She turned to Ethan. "The Gin'tak captain may be dishonorable, but our navigator, T'Taj, would never let them -- That's it! T'Taj!" She jumped from her cushioned seat. "They won't hurt Ensign Hudson." With that exclamation, she ran from the mess hall at full speed. Chakotay stepped off the turbolift on Deck 9. He knew B'Elanna had been having some sleepless nights, maybe that's why they hadn't seen her. Chakotay's long legs strode around a corner and into Commander G'Ruhj. "Commander, I can't seem to find your chief engineer. She doesn't answer her hails and her door is locked." Chakotay raised an eyebrow and abruptly lowered it. *Damn, I'm beginning to act like Tuvok now,* he thought to himself. "I was just going to check her quarters, if you'd like to wait outside." "Certainly, Commander." G'Ruhj noticed the brusque movement but decided not to comment. Chakotay overrode the lock to B'Elanna's quarters and walked in, looking for any signs of life. The living room was spotless except for the desk. The surface was littered with padds of upgrades and efficiency reports. An old coffee mug that was half filled and growing green slime sat precariously on the edge. Behind all those padds he could make out holopictures. There was one with the captain, B'Elanna, and himself. One picture was of B'Elanna, Harry, and Tom, and the other one was of Tom alone. It caught his eyes. Tom was sitting on the beach at the resort just facing the waves. He wore a sad and lonely expression. It was obvious he hadn't known anyone was looking. Paris rarely looked vulnerable around people. This picture held hope and despair. Despair in the eyes of the subject and hope that Paris was healing his wounds. Chakotay turned away from the personal pictures and went to the bedroom. He heard G'Ruhj enter B'Elanna's quarters, but he didn't mind as long as nothing was flung around. Chakotay looked past the doorway into the bedroom. He caught his breath as he hurried towards the still figure lying on the bed. Her uniform jacket had been removed. She had the appearance of being placed there with care; someone had even covered her with a blanket. Chakotay grabbed her wrist, feeling for a pulse. "Transporter room, this is Chakotay. Beam B'Elanna to Sickbay." Chakotay watched as B'Elanna disappeared in the glimmer. "Captain, I found B'Elanna. She was unconscious. She should be in Sickbay now. Chakotay out." Colliding with G'Ruhj on the way out of B'Elanna's quarters Chakotay heard him mutter, "Qas will pay." Chakotay silently agreed. Paris sat on the bunk in the brig, his depression overwhelming him. He would never get the antidote from Qas now. Paris looked at the security officer, Parsons, guarding the door. *What can I talk about with him?* He watched as Parsons slowly melted into the shape of Qas. *Now the fit hits the shan.* The forcefield abruptly stopped humming. Paris lunged for the comm panel. He needed help and Tuvok needed to capture Qas. A heavy mass of slime entwined itself around Paris' legs and he fell to the ground. His head smacked the front of the security console. He needed just a few more feet. Paris felt the goo move up to his middle. He was reminded of a line from a poem by Shel Silverstein, "Oh gee, he's up to my knee. Oh fiddle, he's up
to my middle." *Great. When's he going to reach my neck?* The next thought was squeezed from his brain as Qas pulled tighter on Paris' lungs. *I'm gonna have some sore spots tomorrow.* He refused to add, *If I live.* He reached a little further. Beep, Beep. That sound reassured Paris. "Paris to Tuvo -- " The sound was cut off as a hand materialized out of the goo. Paris couldn't breathe. His nose and mouth were covered by the hand and his lungs were being squeezed as though they were a stress ball. Panic began to overwhelm Tom as dark spots swam in front of his eyes. *God, no! B'Elanna, forgive me.* The world suddenly went dark as Paris fell to the ground. The clear brown goop slithered into an environmental air duct. B'Elanna opened her eyes to see the bald-headed doctor leaning over her face. She groaned in recognition. "It's nice to see you, too, Lieutenant." The doctor's voice was strained but steady. "It seems, Ms. Torres, that you have been given an overdose of a sleeping aid. It wasn't anything I couldn't clear out of your system. Since I know you did not try to kill yourself, I must ask if you know who did?" "Qas." The doctor bent out of B'Elanna's line of vision and she turned to see the Captain, Chakotay, and G'Ruhj standing around her also. "Where is Tom?" The question hit G'Ruhj in the gut. *So this wild half-breed is taken. What a pity.* "There's been some trouble while you were asleep. Tom's fine," the captain hastily assured B'Elanna, "but he is in the brig for attacking me." B'Elanna's eyes widened as she sat up slowly. "Qas said we both would pay." She swung her legs over the side of the bed. For once in her entire life, B'Elanna's knees held after a trip to Sickbay. The doc always made sure patients had trouble walking out of Sickbay. "I don't think so, Lieutenant.," said the doctor. "You are going to stay in Sickbay for at least a few more hours. I realize I can't hold you much after that, but you will stay." With her sentence pronounced, the doctor walked into his office. B'Elanna sat down again. Her expression was pensive. "He attacked you. He wouldn't do that. What could Qas have held over his head that he would attack you?" "It seems Qas held your health over his head." Chakotay's voice was quiet, but it pounded in B'Elanna's ears. She closed her eyes in pain. She didn't want anyone hurt. That's why she didn't want to take Paris' bracelet. Love hurt. It always did. Tuvok strode into the brig. The aborted comm link puzzled him. Tom's long legs were stretched along the floor. His upper torso rested against the side of the security console. His arm was outstretched; his finger still poised over the comm button. Tuvok carefully grabbed a phaser from the weapons locker. Walking up to Paris, he leaned down and checked for a pulse. Paris began to stir. He gasped in great gulps of air as his eyes fluttered open. "Where's Qas?" Paris' voice sounded like he had been screaming for hours. "It appears that Qas has managed to disappear. Computer, set up a level one containment field around decks 4 through 6 . Tuvok to all security teams. Qas was last seen on Deck 5. Tuvok to Transporter Room 1. Emergency transport -- " "No, I can get there myself." Paris looked at the Vulcan expectantly. Tuvok held out a hand to help Paris to his feet. Paris looked up gratefully. Together they started down the hall to Sickbay. Lonzo Zoomo was just starting a diagnostic loop on the transporter buffers to make sure they were clean, when a brown goo oozed out of the environmental air ducts onto the transporter pad. Abandoning the loop, Zoomo tapped in a few commands hoping to catch the elusive changeling in the pattern buffers and hold it until Tuvok could come and claim it. However, he watched in horror as the transporter beam held the changeling and slowly beamed him out a molecule at a time. Zoomo checked the scanners. Every molecule was randomly placed as far away as the transporter could reach. "Zoomo to Tuvok." His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. "Yes, Ensign." "Sir, the changeling has left the ship." "Where has he gone, Ensign?" "That's just it, sir. His molecules are spread around the surrounding space." "On my way." Tuvok looked at Paris who was limping towards the door to Sickbay. The Sickbay doors hissed open and in walked a very mangled-looking Paris. B'Elanna, who had had her eyes closed, opened them and looked up to see Paris stroll in. She hopped off the bed and ran over to him. Paris stopped, relief clouding over the icy blue eyes. B'Elanna stepped closer and sucker punched him in the gut. He pulled her into his arms and murmured something to her. She wrapped her arms around him and just nodded. G'Ruhj looked on with amusement. They suited each other. Paris and Torres both had two sides it seemed. "You're mine. Don't ever leave me, Bella. Please don't leave me." Paris could feel B'Elanna nodding. He bit her ear. The others watched as B'Elanna reared back and turned a slight shade of pink. Janeway cleared her throat. "Senior staff meeting in one hour. You two are invited." She looked pointedly at the couple. "Yes, Captain." They chimed in together. The captain and commander left. G'Ruhj looked at the couple. "Nevermind." With that, he strode from the room. Paris looked down at B'Elanna. She stood on her toes and pulled his mouth to hers. The gentleness of B'Elanna's lips drove Paris over the edge. A tear slipped down his cheek and mingled on their lips. B'Elanna pulled Paris back to the biobed. His hands reached around and caressed her back. "Lieutenant, I do believe that necking in Sickbay is not acceptable." The voice interrupted their passion. Paris groaned. "When this is done we are going to lock ourselves in the holodeck. No comms. Nothing." "I agree." T'Taj stopped so abruptly that Hudson careened right into the back of him. The big Klingon held steady. "Hey, if you're gonna do that, install some running lights!" snapped Hudson. "It has just occurred to me. If I lose in my challenge to Captain Jinar, he will kill you." "That thought had already occurred to me," replied Hudson, rubbing his nose. "Yet you said nothing?" "Well, I don't think you're going to lose. Do you?" "Jinar is dishonorable, but he is a cunning fighter. It is a fool who underestimates his enemy." "I told you, we need a plan." "You have an idea?" "Yeah, but I don't know if you'll go for it." "Let me hear this plan." Jinar sat on the bridge watching the viewscreen intently; only a few more moments and surely Qas would have Voyager under his control; he was surprised he had not been sent the signal already. He could feel the disapproval of the bridge crew. He had lied. He had acted without honor. He had more or less abandoned his first and second officers to his enemies. Rumor was flying that he had duped T'Taj into this hostage-taking nonsense. He had lost their trust, and any moment now T'Taj would come through the bridge doors and challenge him. They knew that as well as he. Jinar felt the reassuring weight of his kut'luch, and he took comfort in knowing that his hidden taj, tucked into his tunic, had an extra edge -- a fast-acting nerve agent that was quite poisonous upon contact with the victim's blood. Whichever came first, coup or Qas' signal, he was ready. The doors crunched open. Heads snapped up, and Jinar heard a small gasp of surprise from the young Ops officer, B'Rinna. He swiveled about and his jaw dropped. The Starfleet security ensign stood in the doorway, holding a kut'luch to T'Taj's throat, and bending his arm mercilessly behind his back, nearly to breaking point. "Gentlemen. Ladies," he nodded at the crew. "I thank you for your hospitality, but I wish to leave now." "Or?" said Jinar, standing. "Or I will kill this man," Hudson said sternly. Jinar considered. He could not simply say, "Then kill him," without the entire bridge crew tearing him to pieces. He stalled for time. Surely Qas' signal was only moments away. "T'Taj, how came this about?" T'Taj would not lie, so he simply gasped, "It's a long story, not worth the retelling." Jinar became outraged. "Only a cowardly dog hides behind a hostage!" "As you are doing," said Hudson tersely. "It's a pity you let the big tuna get away, Captain, as Voyager will not come fishing for the likes of a minnow like me. Therefore, I have taken matters into my own hands. If you value this man's life, you will transport us immediately. I promise you he will be returned unharmed." "You despicable petaQ! What good are your promises?! Breathe your last, Human, for as soon as this man is dead, I'll tear you apart!" Later, in his report, Hudson merely wrote, "It was at this point the situation became unusual." "T'Taj!" shouted B'Rinna, "ghIj qet jaghmeyjaj!!" A wicked-looking knife flew through the air. T'Taj grabbed it with his free hand reflexively. Hudson saw it coming. All his Starfleet "think on your feet" training came to the fore. Without a second to reconsider, he smashed his forehead in
to the back of T'Taj's skull as the knife came into T'Taj's hand, and they both went down in a heap, the stunned Klingon falling backwards over the equally stunned security ensign and nearly crushing him to unconsciousness. Fortunately, on the way down, T'Taj's head also came heavily into contact with a tactical console. Hudson shook his head to clear it and whispered, "Hey, get off!! I don't know you well enough for you to sit in my lap!!" "Jinar will kill you, Hudson, slowly. I can do it quick and painlessly," T'Taj grunted, trying to focus. "No way, Jose," Hudson muttered. *Here goes nothing . . . .* He slid his hand under T'Taj's shoulder pad and attempted, once more, the nerve pinch Tuvok had so patiently been trying to teach his team. So far, only the redoubtable Ethan Simms had managed it. T'Taj did not get up. Hudson pushed him off and he lay on the deck, eyes open and staring, the knife loose in his hand, looking for all the world like a very dead Klingon. "You're next," said Hudson to Jinar, rising to his feet, and grabbing the knife for his other hand. "You puny human! Do you think you can best ME? I command this ship!" snarled Jinar, but his voice held the slightest note of doubt. "Hey, I once single-handedly fought an ENTIRE ship full of hungry alligators with big teeth who wanted me for lunch!" Hudson spoke with such conviction it was not possible to doubt the truth of his words. "I'm not afraid of ONE Klingon, no matter how ugly!" Jinar roared in blind rage and flung himself into Hudson's lithe frame. "Captain, we are being hailed," said Harry. Kathryn Janeway was tired. Ever since the bird-of-prey had first shimmered out of cloak, she had had less sleep, less food, and more worry than just about any officer could take. She was fed up with these Klingons and ready to take action. "Tuvok, weapons status?" "Powered and ready, Captain." "B'Elanna, are you okay? What is the status of the engines?" "Full power on both, Captain." "Tom, are you up for offensive maneuvers?" "Always ready to maneuver, Captain." Janeway rolled her eyes and glanced at Chakotay. She was rewarded with one of his "wither though goest" smiles. "Then let's go get our man. Harry, onscreen." On the Voyager bridge, Janeway heard her young Ops officer gasp and felt her own jaw drop. A very mussed, bruised, exhausted, slightly bloody and rather ill-looking Mikel Hudson appeared before them. "This is Mikel Theodore Hudson, um, captain of the Klingon bird-of-prey Gin'tak, newly commissioned officer of the, ah, Empire. What's up, Voyager?" "Ethan, hand me that probe from my tool kit." Ensign Simms rummaged around in Zoomo's case a bit. "You mean the one that extends out as far as half a meter?" "That's the one. There's no other way to get a really good reading of the long distance transporter control relay." The young transporter technician lifted his head out of the opening to the transporter buffer maintenance port, which was below the floor of the transporter pad and not easily reached, giving his back a good stretch as he emerged. "Why they didn't make this control relay junction easier to get to from a Jeffries tube is beyond me!" The auburn haired security man grinned back at his companion as he handed the requested tool over to him. "Wanted you to get a good workout every now and then, Lonzo. What else do you do but stand around the transporter controls waiting for someone to ask you to push a few buttons?" "Yeah, right. You better watch it. The next time you ask for an emergency beam out, I may remember this conversation!" They laughed together. Despite the threat represented by Gin'tak still hanging over everyone on board Voyager, some things never changed. Pulling the leg of a friend only lost its appeal in "crunch time," and the crew still had confidence in Captain Janeway's ability to extricate them from danger. "Lonzo, can I ask you something?" "Sure." "I don't understand what happened with Qas. He got beamed out into space, even though the transporter hadn't been activated. You were just doing a diagnostic, right? "During the diagnostic, some controls get activated briefly. If anyone is on the transporter pad, they get transported to the last coordinates that were set on the control pad. That's why we usually ban anyone but the technicians from the transporter room when we are doing diagnostics like that, to make sure that the only person around is safely behind the control console." Simms shook his head as he comprehended what was told to him. "The other thing I was wondering is why there were several emergency transports to sickbay in the last day or so, but there were no problems with any of those." "Intraship transports use a different control center than the long range transports. That's a safety mechanism, too. There's no way anyone could accidentally be beamed off the ship, or into a bulkhead, or anything. The ship's structure is already in the transporter buffer memory. All we have to do is hit the Sickbay code button, and it transports the person directly to the clear area in Sickbay. We don't need to punch in coordinates, so it doesn't use the circuitry that I've been examining." "Gotcha." Simms felt relieved. He had always wondered if he might end up perched on one of Voyager's nacelles by accident if the transporter chief were to become flustered during a crisis. It was nice to know that wasn't going to happen. After taking a few more deep breaths, Zoomo flashed a quick grin at Simms before pushing his way back under the transporter pad, probe fully extended. He muttered to himself for a couple of minutes. Suddenly the quality of that muttering changed. "Simms, crawl in here and look what I found." Grunting as he lowered himself under the transporter pad, Simms blinked his eyes a few times as they adjusted to the lower light levels. The ceiling was so low he had to crouch down to avoid hitting his head. This area actually was more like a Jeffries tube than anything else, but the only practical entrance was from underneath the transporter pad for reasons of security. When Simms turned to face his friend, he saw a grim-faced Lonzo looking at him. "What'd I do?" asked Simms, looking around him. "It's not what you did, I'm sure, Ethe. Look." Pointing the end of the probe deep within the transporter mechanism, Zoomo turned the face of his tricorder toward Simms so that he could see the readings. "Is there a break in the circuitry?" Simms asked. "Not a break. That's a clean cut, and so carefully done that it would never show up on a regular scan because it was done in such a way that the last bit only gave way when the control was activated for an actual transport. It wouldn't have even shown up on my diagnostic if Qas hadn't been oozing onto the pad while it was running. The only way to get to that circuit junction is to remove the other circuitry panel away first. "I was kidding around before about why that circuit is so hard to get to. It was designed that way. It's replicated as one piece and almost NEVER breaks. When it does go out of commission, the rest of the circuitry is usually blown, too, so you've got to pull the front panel out anyway to fix all of that. If someone wants to tamper with the transporter controls, you see, this is one of the easiest ways. It controls the buffer's connection to the pattern memory banks. Break that circuit, and instead of being beamed out all at once and arriving at your destination in one piece, you end up like Qas did -- a scattered bunch of molecules drifting in space. I had a hunch from the beginning this was the area that had to have failed. I just didn't expect to see a cut, because it's so hard to get to." "Hard to sabotage, you mean, Lonzo?" "Right, Ethe." "Has anyone been here recently who could have done this?" "No, and as you can tell, no one could do this without the transporter technician on duty knowing about it." "I know for a fact that there hasn't been any security breaches in the transporter room during this whole crisis. So how did this happen?" "There are some small openings all along the circuits, where someone the shape of a snake could have gotten through. Know anyone who fits the description of a snake?" Simms expression was grim. "A certain Klingon who was really a changeling is the only snake I can think of that's been hanging around Voyager recently. But why?" "My guess is he didn't want the next people to use the long distance transporter to get home. By leaving all of the transporter functions except this one intact, we would never have known there was a problem until our Klingon guests tried to beam back to the Gin'tak." The two ensigns exchanged grim looks, but suddenly Zoomo's face broke into a swift smile. Surprised, Simms asked him, "What is it, Lonzo?" "Oh, I was just thinking I knew I kind of liked Commanders K'Fin and G'Ruhj from the first time I met them. If Qas wanted to kill them, I think I like them even more!" Simms smiled along with his friend for a f
ew seconds before turning pale. "Zoomo, if Qas were able to slip in here to sabotage the transporter this way, what else was he up to for all of that time he was missing?" The transporter technician took a deep breath. "I don't even want to think about it." The security man activated his comm badge. "Simms to Lieutenant Tuvok." "Tuvok here." "Lieutenant, Ensign Zoomo and I found something you need to be aware of immediately. Something EVERYONE needs to be aware of." "Meet me in the conference room in ten minutes. Both of you." "So when he oozed onto the transporter pad, I couldn't hold him inside the buffer, although I tried to, Captain. Because of that break in the circuit, he was simply beamed off Voyager, molecule by molecule. I tried to cut the power, everything I could think of, but nothing worked," Zoomo stated, finishing his report. Captain Janeway's stomach lurched at the thought. Even though he had caused a tremendous amount of trouble, Captain Janeway did not like the idea of Qas meeting his demise that way. It may not have been painful, but then again, it could have been absolutely excruciating. Who knew what the senses of a shapeshifter were like when in a gelatinous mode? Her train of thought was broken by Ensign Simms, who added, "The same thing would have happened to Commander K'Fin and Second Officer G'Ruhj if they had left Voyager using our transporters, Captain. The only reason I can think of for Qas to have sabotaged that particular area, instead of bringing the entire transporter system off-line, is if he wanted to assassinate his fellow officers." "Dishonorable spawn of the Gamma Quadrant! To assassinate someone using a broken transporter! Coward!" G'Ruhj looked ready to jump out of his chair and throttle someone. Simms leaned back a little. He hoped that G'Ruhj had heard the old saying that it wasn't wise to kill the messenger, since that was all he was. Hopefully there was a Klingon equivalent to that proverb. An intense look from Commander K'Fin calmed the young Klingon enough for him to ease back in his chair, although he was still clearly quite agitated. "That Qas was dishonorable is no great surprise, G'Ruhj. We had suspected THAT for a long time. What disturbs me are the ramifications of this evil deed. Qas may have done great damage to many of Voyager's systems while he was slithering around loose. I doubt this is the only act of sabotage that has been done." "Captain, I must recommend a complete scanning of all of the ship's systems in view of the confirmation of Qas' sabotage," intoned Lieutenant Tuvok. "Engineering is already on it, Captain. As soon as I came into the conference room, Mr. Simms informed me of the situation. Lieutenant Carey is coordinating the sweep as we speak." "Excellent, Lieutenant. We must verify that every system is in good working order if we are even to attempt any return to the Alpha Quadrant via the generation of a wormhole. Ensign Zoomo, Ensign Simms, I want to commend you both for your prompt discovery and appropriate action in this matter. You are dismissed." The two junior officers rose, leaving the senior officers of Voyager and their Klingon visitors to continue their meeting. As he passed the chief engineer, Zoomo bobbed his head toward her and mouthed, "Right now?" He was going to have a very long afternoon pulling out all of that circuitry to repair the damage. As the conference door was closing behind him, he said to his companion, "Hey, Simms, you busy now?" B'Elanna smiled at Tom's broad grin. He had obviously overheard the comment, too. It was good to be back home on Voyager, with their family of fellow crewmembers. She did not have much time to enjoy the moment, however, as the subject quickly turned serious again. "The next item on the agenda is to talk about what we are going to do from here. Now that Mr. Hudson and Navigator T'Taj have secured the Gin'tak, we need to turn our attentions back to the whole point of our meeting with one another in the first place. Getting home. Commander K'Fin, you have something about that to report." All eyes turned to the Klingon commander. "In our studies of all the facts that are available concerning the Trill experiments, your experiences with wormholes and time travel in this quadrant, and the records from experiences throughout Starfleet history, we have uncovered some interesting facts which we believe will make it possible for us all to return to the Alpha Quadrant. "We have noted with much interest the time and distance travels of your Captain Kirk, who used equations that Commander Spock developed, supposedly with the "Slingshot Around a Sun" technique, to travel back in time. Others have failed to reproduce these feats, and there have even sometimes been questions about whether or not they ever DID travel in time by some skeptics." "Tell that to the humpback whales, Commander." Tom could not help himself. Captain Janeway shot Tom a look that could freeze a whale swimming in tropical waters, but K'Fin only grunted a barking Klingon laugh at the helmsman. "Ha! I assure you, Paris, I am not one of those skeptics! Even without that evidence, which to me is proof beyond question of their accomplishments, I would believe. I have studied the records carefully. Lieutenant Torres and Captain Janeway and I have concluded that there is no such thing as a natural wormhole. They are ALL artificial. They only appear to be natural by those who have no knowledge that this technology exists. Even if a wormhole collapses, a remnant remains that would be easier to open than making the attempt in normal space. That is what Captain Kirk appeared to do in his travels." Puzzled looks were exchanged around the room by the male officers. The female officers had trouble keeping from laughing openly at their confusion. B'Elanna decided to take pity on them. "You see, those old Constitution class vessels and the birds-of-prey of that era threw off a lot of different radiation signatures. They used large, whole dilithium crystals for their warp engines that emitted an entire soup of particles, unlike our ships today. Verteron particles, in particular, were emitted in quantity. When they used that "slingshot" around the sun, they used the sun's gravity to mimic the magneton pulses the Trill used to open their wormholes. If they found a remnant, and apparently they did, several times, they managed to open it. They assumed that their speed and the action of moving around Sol, synchronized by Spock's equations, caused them to fall back in time. The wormhole off of Sol ends at the Twentieth Century. I'm not sure, but Captain Braxton may have been the one who created it when he fell to earth during our first encounter with him, because that seems to be about the time that Kirk fell back to as well. So the Enterprise fell into that same wormhole, rescued whales and did a bunch of other things that may have changed history, and returned simply by accidentally doing what the Trill do on purpose -- utilizing an already existing wormhole that they could not measure because they did not know what to look for. But we do know, and we can see the readings in their sensor logs, primitive though they might be." "I thought Kirk went back earlier, to the Thirties, didn't he?" One of the reasons Tom first became fascinated by Twentieth Century history and culture was through his reading biographies of James Kirk and about the voyages of the first U.S.S. Enterprise. He couldn't help admiring the man, although he didn't think he wanted to be exactly like him. Admiral Paris hated Kirk, though, so Tom was, of course, interested in him. "The Guardian of Forever sent Kirk back to the Thirties, Tom. A completely different phenomenon." She thought a moment. "Although now that you mention it, there were some interesting similarities in the sensor readings . . . that could bear some further investigation. At any rate, to the matter at hand. Mr. Kim, we will be giving you a listing of radiation particles and signatures in certain proportions that we want you to scan for in the surrounding area of space, for as wide an area as possible. The Gin'tak will be doing likewise, although their major focus will be upon repairing their deflector dish, which was damaged when they came to the Delta Quadrant. Would you care to explain, Mr. G'Ruhj?" The Klingon warrior gave a quick look to the Federation captain at the use of "Mr." to him, then recalled that this was an alternate term used for officers of rank similar to his own on Federation ships. He realized he was being treated with the respect shown to any of her own officers -- not as a potential enemy. He sat even straighter in his seat. "We were unable to repair the deflector dish when we arrived here. There were insufficient resources available on the Gin'tak for a job of such magnitude. With the resources available on our two ships, we should be able to repair the Gin'tak and make possible an attempt to return home. Togethe
r, we can fit both Voyager and the Gin'tak with the equipment necessary for Commander K'Fin's technique to open a wormhole." K'Fin added, "It will be easier to open and travel if we find a remnant wormhole, of course." Tuvok addressed the Klingon officers. "If using an older wormhole is preferable, should we not return to the coordinates of your exit from the wormhole and use that one?" "No, Security Officer Tuvok. That region of space was most unsettling. Several times in a day, a whirling discharge of energy and plasma would suddenly erupt into space. It was all we could do to limp away from there with our ship in one piece," replied G'Ruhj, his teeth clenched. He did not like being bested by an unknown spatial anomaly. "The astral eddies! That was pretty far from where we are now, though, Captain!" said Harry. "Not the same area of space, Ensign. The astral eddies apparently were not as unique as we thought they were. There may even have been some way that that weakness in the fabric of space actually attracted the errant wormhole to it. Whatever happened, I must concur with Commander K'Fin and Second Officer G'Ruhj. That is not the path home." "Captain, Commander K'Fin, what happens if we cannot find one of those remnant wormholes in this area of space. Do we just keep on our heading towards home until we find one?" "No, Commander Chakotay. We have decided that we would then institute Plan B, which is to generate a wormhole using three ships instead of two. The mistake that seems to have been made in the past was assuming that two ships could generate the wormhole for each other. Unfortunately, everything becomes too unstable. We seem to need two ships in relatively stable positions when the third is traveling through the wormhole. So we need three ships." "All we have available would be a shuttle, Captain. Do you think any of ours would be up to the job?" "We will use a shuttle, but not one of ours. Commander K'Fin says that the Targ, the shuttle that returned Lieutenants Paris and Torres to us, has an, shall we say, unorthodox history with the Gin'tak." An unpleasant sound was made by G'Ruhj. "Qas STOLE it from the Dominion. That is why they chased us into the wormhole and caused us all of this trouble in the first place!" He looked back at Janeway. "Forgive the interruption, Captain." Captain Janeway paused to keep her mouth from twitching into a smile. She had not been quite sure how to put that, so his interruption had actually been welcome. "No problem, Second Officer. The point is, our guests would prefer to lose the evidence of their former colleague's transgression -- assuming it was a transgression. The entire incident may have been part of one of the changeling's plots. To get back on topic, we have examined this Dominion shuttle. Its sleek lines and unexpected degree of power for its size make it perfectly suitable for our needs. We will be able to fit it with the necessary equipment, including a large, rather ungainly additional deflector dish, but it will serve our purposes." "It's other advantage is that it can be flown quite easily by one man, which is a plus in this situation, because this will be an extremely dangerous mission. There is an auto-pilot setting. We will use it after the pilot is transported back to the second ship for its trip through the wormhole, only AFTER the first ship is in position by its exit. There are no guarantees we will be able to rescue that pilot, however, particularly if anything goes wrong. In every equivalent situation when a wormhole was generated, the ship that was in the Targ's position was crushed." By the end of her speech, the captain felt no reason to smile. Barely a beat passed before Tom's voice called out, "Sounds just like my kind of mission, Captain. I volunteer." G'Ruhj turned to look aghast at the tall human. "This is to be MY mission, Paris!" K'Fin's eyes met Janeway's before the former turned to her subordinate. "G'Ruhj, your bravery is unquestioned. Captain Janeway and I have spoken of this, however. We have already decided the Gin'tak will be first through the wormhole, so if something unexpected happens, Voyager can continue as it did before on its journey to the Alpha Quadrant. That means the pilot should be one of their crew. If Paris wishes to volunteer, then he will be the one chosen." "Yes, Second Officer. Your own offer will be noted in our logs, as will your exemplary behavior since you arrived on Voyager. The only reason for choosing Mr. Paris over you for this mission is the logistics of the mission itself." Unhappy, but understanding the reasoning behind the decision, G'Ruhj met the blue eyes of the Voyager pilot. "Then I will serve as consultant for you, Paris. I can explain the systems to you. I spent every moment I could examining that shuttle. Do you read Klingon?" "Not well, G'Ruhj." The warrior grunted. "I will make sure all is translated for you." During the entire exchange, Tom kept his eyes resolutely fastened upon his captain or G'Ruhj, but he could feel B'Elanna jump in her chair beside him when it became clear to all that Tom was to pilot the Targ. A few moments after her jump, a swift kick to his right shin followed, but he ignored the pain. "Well then, everything seems to be decided. We will search for the signs of an old wormhole, but if that fails, we will make the attempt anyway. We have a lot to do, people, and not a lot of time to waste, if you do not mind my saying so! This meeting is ended. Dismissed." "Tom! Wait! What were you thinking!" An upset B'Elanna chased Tom out into the corridor. "Why did you volunteer for that . . .that . . . suicide mission!" "Gee, B'Elanna. You already had your chance to fly that sleek little shuttle. I wanted mine before it gets crushed inside the wormhole." Her face almost touching his, B'Elanna choked out, "This isn't some misguided effort to prove your bravery and impress my Klingon side again, is it, Tom? Because if it is, you don't need to! I know you are recklessly brave already! And you know how I feel about that stuff!" Tom's lips twitched into a smirk but could not hold it long. Looking into his B'Elanna's eyes, Tom was fully aware of just how small his chances were of actually getting through this mission alive. G'Ruhj was more than qualified to risk his own life to help get the Gin'tak home, and he was willing. Somehow, Tom had to be the one to do it, though. He could feel it. There was no way he could explain it all to her, so he did not even try. "B'Elanna, it's just something I have to do. I am the best choice, you know that." "The 'Best Pilot in the Delta Quadrant.' Yes, I know all that." The words caught in B'Elanna's throat. It didn't help that in her heart of hearts, she was sure he was right, no matter how competent G'Ruhj might be flying a shuttle. If anyone could keep a wormhole open long enough for two ships to traverse it safely and still find a way to survive himself, it would be Tom. "Well, if you're going to do this, then, you just take your jewelry back. I don't want it." She pulled the bracelet he had given her from a pocket in her uniform and handed it back to him. Tom looked at the bracelet with an odd look on his face. "In that case there's just one thing I'd like you to do for me." "Yes, Tom?" she said warily. There was no way to tell what the helmsman might suddenly come up with for her. Asking her to marry him that minute was not outside the realm of possibility, and then he would be shoving that bracelet back at her all over again. As this thought crossed her mind, however, B'Elanna wondered if she would marry him, if he wished. Would it be harder never to feel his arms around her again if they had loved each other completely, or if they had never taken that last step? She felt a stabbing pain even thinking about losing him now, at the very point when they were becoming aware of the depths of their feelings for one another. Tom held out a very familiar golden object to her. Not again! "Tom, not the bracelet. I just gave it back to you! I've told you how I feel about accepting that, especially under these circumstances." "Now, Lieutenant Torres, it isn't what you think. You are one of my closest friends on Voyager, and I just want you to hold it for me until I get back from this mission. With any luck, we'll find one of those old wormholes and fall right through to home like Alice in Wonderland, without me doing any kind of dangerous stunt flying. I want you to take it now, though, in case I might . . . forget at the last minute." "And I want you to do this for me, B'Elanna." He looked at her with the look that always got to her -- that sincere, "I mean every word I say" Paris look. Sincere, because he really DID mean every word. He placed the bracelet in the palm of her hand, and the look in his eyes became troubled and sad before he continued, "And if it happens that I, uh, don't, well . . . come back, I want you to have it anyway. You see, this bracelet has be
en passed on for seven generations, from the eldest male son in the Paris family to his bride, to their eldest son, and so on. I am the last of that line now, B'Elanna. If I don't come back, there isn't anyone else to give it to anyway. And you really are 'the most beautiful woman whom I love.'" He hesitated another moment. "If I don't return, think of it as a bequest." "Tom!" B'Elanna wanted to dissolve in a million tears, but held herself back. Not here, in the middle of a public corridor outside the conference room on Deck 1. Their eyes met, and to prevent embarrassing herself further, she simply nodded acquiescence. For a second she rested her hand upon his chest, then turned sharply away and almost ran to the entrance to the bridge. Leaning against the turbolift door, watching the entire scene, was Commander G'Ruhj. His thoughts were melancholy for a Klingon warrior. All he could think of was that he had never found the woman who would make his blood sing the way Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres obviously made Lieutenant Paris' sing. Even though Lieutenant Torres was attractive to him, he knew he was not affected by the half-Klingon engineer the way Paris was affected by her. Honor compelled him to acknowledge their bond which, he suspected, they themselves did not fully understand. G'Ruhj remembered his parents, both dead now in honorable service to the Empire, who had looked at each other the way Paris and Torres did. Was there a woman out there for him? He grunted. Taking a par'machai had never appealed to him. He would just have to keep looking. Seeing that Paris had not budged from his position in the corridor since the engineer had left him, G'Ruhj barked out, "So, are we going to examine this shuttle now, or are we not, Helmsman?" Tom turned as if startled that anyone was in the corridor with him. His face a mask, he addressed the Klingon, "Of course, G'Ruhj. It's our duty, is it not?" His mouth quirked into that smirk that was so unKlingon-like, yet which masked the heart of a warrior. After they entered the turbolift, Tom uttered, "Deck 11," and held onto the handle as it began its descent. "We must make time in the next few days for me to show you more how to fight with the bat'telh. You have talent for it, Paris of the House of Paris." Tom's response was a weak smile. "There is no House of Paris for me now, G'Ruhj; and I doubt there ever will be. Even if it existed, it would not exactly be the most honorable of Houses, would it?" "I do not agree, Paris. It is true many Klingons would look at your past and see a traitor twice over. I admit, I saw only that when I first met you. Now that I have learned something about your heart, I know it is more Klingon than that of the taHqeq who was my captain on the Gin'tak. I do not hold with the tradition that a man cannot regain his honor when his deeds prove his true worth. The House with you at its head would be an honorable one. For who knows the value of honor better than the courageous and good man who has found he has somehow lost it? Who never stops seeking to regain it? Are you SURE there is no Klingon lurking among your ancestors?" Tom grinned more broadly at the Klingon. It was difficult not to like him. "I am sure there is no Klingon ancestor in the House of Paris, G'Ruhj. Yet. But I've been working on it." G'Ruhj bent backward and laughed lustily as they reached Deck 11. B'Elanna stalked through Voyager's corridors contemplating the situation with a bit of apprehension. Hudson was back and in Sickbay, Jinar was under arrest, and K'Fin and G'Ruhj had returned to their ship, taking Tom and Tuvok with them. Qas was dead. Now all that remained between her and a trip back to the Alpha Quadrant was to find out what else Qas had been doing and make the attempt to create the wormhole. No small task, of course. But what if they were successful? What then? If they suddenly found themselves back in Federated space would she still be "the most beautiful woman whom I love?" From the urgency that had registered in Carey's voice, B'Elanna knew he had found something. His request to Commander Chakotay, currently at the conn while Janeway was in her ready room, that any searches for potential wormholes using any of the major systems, including warp and navigation, be delayed until further notice only worked to quicken her pace on her way to Engineering. When the main doors parted and she entered, she could sense the seriousness of the situation. Work crews were running from place to place retrieving tools and equipment, crawling in and out of Jefferies tubes, and sliding under a few major systems panels. Spotting Carey, she hurried over to him. "What's going on, Carey? What have you found?" "Lieutenant." He said nothing more, but handed her a datapadd. The first item on his list made her stomach lurch. She cursed under her breath and read on. By the last item on the list, her knuckles had turned white from holding the padd so hard in an effort not to throw it in Carey's face. "Tell me this is everything," she said through clenched teeth. Carey licked his lips somewhat nervously. "I'm afraid not, Lieutenant. This is only the preliminary report, and even then only the major systems affected." He turned to the computer terminal where he had been working and gestured toward the screen. "At the moment, we've only found 16 damaged systems with who knows how many breaks causing them, and I have no doubt there are more." "This is Qas' doing," B'Elanna said, bending down to examine the screen. Seeing the full extent of the damage, she stood up and slammed a fist down on the panel. "If he weren't already dead I would kill him!" She took a deep breath then exhaled, trying to calm herself. "What do you have crews working on?" "Only engineering systems right now," he said, gesturing towards a pair of legs under a panel. "But there are three teams spread out over the ship checking for anything we might have missed. I was waiting for your orders." "All right. Let's get our priorities straight." She sat down and began typing commands into the computer, bringing up more detailed schematics of the affected systems. "The flow to long range sensors isn't badly damaged, though I wouldn't bet on their accuracy. Send a crew down to the array and get that taken care of. The bridge is going to need those up and running at top efficiency as soon as possible." She continued, accessing the warp core's systems. "We can spare a few people to work on the minor problems, but everyone else goes to work on the magnetic containment field. Qas really did a number on that," she said standing up. She turned back to the entrance, Carey following. "With enough people in the Jefferies tubes examining the circuits it shouldn't take too long to find all the damaged circuitry and repair it. But we need to make sure we get all the flows; one screwed up EPS conduit when we go to warp could result in a breach and I don't want to have to explain to the captain why the warp core isn't in its housing. I'll be on the bridge," she called out as the doors swished shut. Joe Carey sighed as he returned to Main Engineering. "All right, people. We've got a little surgery to do." B'Elanna entered the bridge a few minutes later. It seemed Chakotay had been waiting for her return, because he stood up the moment he heard the turbolift doors open. Turning towards her as she approached he asked, "Problem fixed?" "I'm afraid not. Harry," she said, turning towards Ops, "your sensor scans on the sector probably aren't going to do us any good. The sensor array has been damaged and it'll take a while to fix." "How long is a while?" Janeway had returned to the bridge unnoticed. "Not too long. The damage there wasn't as extensive as it could've been. I'd say no more than a half hour as long nothing else turns up in that system." From the look on B'Elanna's face, Kathryn knew that wasn't the only damage. "B'Elanna?" she said, gesturing towards her ready room doors. The engineer nodded slightly and headed towards them. Once inside, the captain sat down at her desk, while B'Elanna chose to remain standing. "Tell me it's not as bad you're making it seem, B'Elanna," Janeway said, watching her engineer begin to pace back and fourth. B'Elanna stopped her pacing and turned towards her captain. "I have teams working on repairing the magnetic containment field for the reactor." Kathryn could hardly suppress a groan at this news. "How badly was it damaged?" "Well actually, I think Qas could have picked a more difficult and not to mention dangerous way of disrupting the field. I suppose we should thank him for not actually tampering with the equipment, but he must've known we would have spotted something wrong with the generator or some other major system more quickly. He also must have realized it would be harder to predict when or if the system ever failed, for whatever his purposes were." B'Elanna took the seat across from Janeway, "Instead, he just damaged
the EPS flow in a way that the actual power to the field wouldn't drop until we went to warp." "And we'd have to eject the core," Janeway finished, her mouth twisting into a grim line. She sighed, "So now we know exactly what Qas was doing all that time we couldn't find him. How many other systems were affected?" "Last count was 16." "'Last count?'" the captain repeated. "You mean there's more?" "Carey seems to think so, and I don't doubt him. However, I don't think they will be quite so substantial. Holodeck generators, replicators, nothing that could prove too threatening. The repair teams are focusing on the warp core and sensor array with a few people working on anything that might be annoying if down, but not a problem." Silence fell over the room as Janeway considered this. It was going to push their testing time back a bit, but not by too much. *More time to get ready, more time for Tom to get comfortable with the Targ.* "He was missing for over an hour," Janeway said. "He could have done a lot more damage, a lot more serious damage in that time. His plan couldn't have been to lead us toward destruction, especially if Tom were right when he said Jinar wanted Voyager for himself." "But we're assuming Jinar doesn't know that he was a changeling. If he weren't aware of this, then Qas probably wasn't exactly taking orders from him." "True, he could have had his own agenda. But what good would it have done him? No, from what G'Ruhj and K'Fin have told me, Qas was with Jinar, his own instrument. None of the crew liked him and no one trusted him. No honor. Alienating Jinar too wouldn't have been in his favor." "Tom. He had Tom attack you," B'Elanna said. "Yes, but Tom isn't sure why. He was told to knock me unconscious and lock me up somewhere. Then he was to go to the bridge." "Qas might have been planning to replace you. If he had ordered the helm to go to warp, the magnetic containment field would have failed immediately -- " "Probably killing everyone in engineering and resulting in the warp core being ejected to avoid anti-matter contamination, putting us in a great situation for a takeover," Janeway finished, standing up and walking over to the large windows. "EPS taps would be down, and with all the damage to the circuits, the auxiliary flows wouldn't even have come close to compensating." B'Elanna grunted slightly as she turned towards Janeway. "We wouldn't even be able to rustle up enough power to run a coffee maker." Janeway's frame shook slightly as she laughed and turned around. "God forbid." Her smile fell as she returned to business. "Make sure you get everything back to peak efficiency. Double check everything. I'm sure you or Carey has already checked, but I want you to make sure all important systems are not damaged. I doubt we'll get more than one try at traversing the wormhole." "Aye, Captain," B'Elanna stood up and left, Janeway following her to the bridge. As B'Elanna left by way of the turbolift, Janeway went to Ops and called up systems status reports from Engineering. She could sense Harry Kim's reaction beside her at the sight of the ship's current standings. "What happened?!" "This is Qas' dirty work. Harry, run a fine tooth comb over all bridge systems. Make sure nothing else has been tampered with or affected." "Yes, ma'am, running diagnostic now," Harry responded by tapping a command into the computer. After a few bleeps signaled to everyone a diagnostic was being run, Harry looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. "Harry? Something wrong?" Janeway asked. "Wha -- What if the diagnostic systems are one of the affected systems? This isn't going to do us much good." Janeway smiled at him and said, "Let's think good thoughts, Harry." Her face still buried grimly in B'Elanna's report detailing estimated repair times for undoing Qas' accomplishments, the captain sighed as she responded to her door chime. "Captain Janeway?" "Ah, Captain Hudson! Welcome back!" Hudson looked a bit sheepish, then began to laugh when Janeway's twitching mouth erupted in laughter of her own. After catching his breath, he briefed the captain on what had transpired on the Gin'tak. "You did excellent work, Mr. Hudson. I take it we should forgive Sub- Commander T'Taj his transgressions in kidnapping Mr. Paris?" "Captain, T'Taj was really upset by what he had done to Tom when he found out the truth. He was enraged at the way he had been manipulated by Jinar. He's a good guy, really. And we worked pretty well together, too." Hudson handed a data disk over to Janeway. "When I was the 'captain' of the Gin'tak, T'Taj and I did a little hunting around in the computer files. I broke into one encrypted file, and I had to stop T'Taj from slitting Jinar's throat when he read what was in it. He's planning on sharing it with Commanders G'Ruhj and K'Fin so they can inform the authorities as soon as they get back to the Alpha Quadrant. We thought it would be a good idea to make copies for me to bring back to Voyager, too, Captain, in case something goes wrong and Voyager gets back, but the Gin'tak doesn't. This disk is filled with the names of Jinar's accomplices and runs down a lot of dirty dealing between Jinar and the Dominion. Lots of double crossing going on, I think -- but the Klingons need to know about this, so they can deal with it." "Thank you, Mr. Hudson. I will speak with G'Ruhj and K'Fin about this disk, but I am sure you are correct. They will want to make sure this gets to their government. Now, wasn't there some kind of celebration that was going to take place in honor of your promotion?" "More like my DEmotion, Captain! Yes, Marcos told me they are doing something in the mess hall." "In that case, Mr. Hudson, you are dismissed." She waited until he was almost at the door, moments away from his getaway, before she added, "By the way, Ensign. Captain before the age of 26, well, that's unheard of. Better than me, better than Owen Paris or Jean-Luc Picard, why I believe that's even better than Kirk himself! You should be proud of yourself. Perhaps you'll give me some pointers when I need them." "If, Captain, not 'when.'" Cheered, the captain returned to her review of repair estimates. "Ladies and gentlemen," intoned Ethan Simms. "I give you Mikel Theodore Hudson -- Mikel THE Hudson, former captain of the Gin'tak and officer of the Empire." There was scattered applause throughout Sandrine's, as well as a few whistles and smart remarks. The chorus, "Speech, speech," went up. Hudson, blushing profusely, stood up. "Fourscore and seven . . . oh, no, wrong speech. I would like to thank the Academy . . . oops, wrong again. Gosh, folks, I'm speechless." "In that case," said Simms, "I'll take over. Everybody? Rations are on Hudson!" he added to heavy applause. "So tell us," said Simms softly, sitting back down at the table he shared with Hudson, Janine Lamont, and Marcos Cavelle. "What happened?" "It was pretty awful. He really would have killed me, I think. I had two knives; he had one -- it was about the same as a bad bar fight. Long story short -- our knives got mixed up and when I managed to just barely cut him, he went down like a rock. They just stood around cheering, and calling me names I hoped I didn't need to take offense at. I knew it had to be poison; nothing else made sense. It was like pulling teeth to get them to save him, though. I finally had to actually issue an order. Luckily, no one chose the moment to challenge me. T'Taj came to about then and started yelling at me in Klingonese. I don't know what he said; the translator couldn't do a thing with it. Must've been pretty, uh, proverbial." "And now you're a lowly ensign again," said Marcos. "And loving every minute, too," said Hudson. Several days later, Captain Janeway and Commander K'Fin were in the captain's conference room, going over their contingency plans for Plan B -- creating a wormhole when there is no trace of an old one to make opening one easier. Harry Kim's face when he entered the conference room in response to their request for his presence for a status report tipped off both the female scientists what his message was likely to be before he opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, Captain. We scanned the area thoroughly. Valtarv on the Gin'tak and I both feel there are no old wormholes in this area, either." Captain Janeway and Commander K'Fin exchanged glances before Janeway responded, "That's all right, Harry. You've done all we could hope for. If there isn't one, there isn't." "If we moved again, Captain?" "I don't think it would be worth it, Harry. We have reached the point of trying Plan B now." After the Gin'tak's deflector shields and all the damage caused by Qas that could be found had been repaired, the two ships had traveled for three days at warp four to a new location, hoping to have more luck than they had had previously in finding an old wormhole in their scans. Janeway and K'Fin had privately conceded that the chances of finding any now appeared to be
slim. Apparently there would not be much in the way of wormhole research done in this area of the Delta Quadrant that would leave any traces in the 24th century. "I've been wondering a bit about Plan B," said Harry. "These wormholes seem to have more to do with time travel than with traveling a distance. How do we know we won't just go back or forward in time, ending up right here where we started?" The Klingon scientist nodded in approval. "An excellent question, Ensign Kim. We have been working on our equations. The proper setting of the magneton pulse executed in the beginning to create the correct diameter and direction of the wormhole, combined with the correct proportion of verteron emissions to the spin of the wormhole seems critical for our ending our journey at the correct point in space. We almost certainly WILL travel in time also, but ideally, we will not know it because we will end our trip so close to the time we left that the discrepancy will be immaterial. If our experience on the Gin'tak is typical, one ship may reach our rendezvous point several days earlier than the other one will." Janeway added, "We've agreed to simply stay put, Harry, and wait for the other ship's arrival, for as long as a month. We will just send a subspace message to Starfleet Headquarters to let them know we are back and safe." To be back in the Alpha Quadrant and not go straight home at maximum warp! Harry's disappointment must have shown on his face, for Janeway smiled encouragingly, "Don't worry, Harry. If I know Starfleet, somebody is going to be coming at top speed to check out why Voyager is transmitting from Klingon space after being among the missing for years. After traveling towards home the way we have for the last few years, I don't think I'd mind having Starfleet heading our way for a change!" Commander Chakotay entered the captain's ready room to the sound of laughter, unexpected, given the nature of Harry's report. "Come in, Chakotay," called out his commanding officer. "I am glad everyone seems to be in such a cheerful mood," he replied. Calming down a bit, she answered, "We've made the decision, Chakotay. It is to be Plan B after all. The Targ is ready?" "Yes, Captain. Paris, Torres, G'Ruhj and T'Taj are down in the shuttle bay. Torres just notified me that the modifications and special equipment have all been installed. Lieutenant Paris is ready to go." "Mr. Kim, you can go on down to join them. Tell them we'll be along shortly." Harry arose from his seat, dipped his head to Commander K'Fin, and exited the ready room. "We'll give our guests a little more time to say their farewells, Commander." "Aye, Captain." Chakotay returned to the bridge. From the history of traveling through wormholes known so far, odds were that these were very final good- byes for at least some of the members of the two crews. In the past week, working together towards the same goal, the Klingon and Federation crews had gotten to know each other, some forming fast friendships. Parting was not going to be easy considering the dangerous mission they all faced, with an uncertain future looming before them. "Captain," said K'Fin as the others filed out, "a moment more of your time." "Of course, Commander." "I would like to thank you for collaborating with us on this project despite the initial hostilities between our two crews. I feel something more than wormhole technology has been learned here." "Indeed it has," replied Janeway. "I sometimes forget that the Klingons have a science tradition as glorious as their military tradition. The Klingon cloaking device alone has long been quite an enigma to Starfleet. Perhaps if," she stopped to correct herself, "perhaps WHEN we return to the Alpha Quadrant, we can help relations between our people be furthered in the name of science." "These days, war walks the borders of my homeland with a diligent eye. There is little room for the scientist, especially a woman scientist who sees the work as more than finding a new way to destroy life. Many, many have died in the years since you were lost. Some in conflict with your own people. It is madness." "Science and war have always gone hand in hand, often the one makes the other possible. It is up to scientists like us to see that our discoveries are not overlooked as unimportant, or used for weapons of annihilation. It is a responsibility we all share. I am glad I live in a time when I am taken seriously as a scientist. There was a time when it was not possible for a woman to aspire so high." "So it was once in our world. I am kin to Gowron; because of my House, I have some small influence with a few of the high council. If we are successful, Captain, I will do what I can to see that this technology is not used dishonorably." She sighed. "It is my hope that someday a true peace will exist between our peoples. I would look on humans as brothers-in-arms, if I could. We face so many difficulties -- the Jem'Haddar, the Founders, the Borg. Who knows what lies beyond the next star system? Enemies we have not yet even imagined." "Or allies," said Janeway. "Or allies," agreed K'Fin with a smile. "Perhaps Gowron will lead us into a new era of space exploration, which I consider the truest glory," she said almost wistfully. "He is a strong leader; the best we have had in many years, but he is no Kahless. I long to see my people joyful again, the explorers of the stars, fearing nothing, but I do not expect it in my lifetime." "Commander, if this experiment fails, you may find yourself stranded here, like us. If that should be the case, I would welcome a stalwart ship by my side. We could explore the Delta Quadrant together. I would welcome the company of a . . . sister-in-arms, shall we call it? You have your own command now. You may find that it can be a great burden." "My own command," sighed K'Fin. "Yes, so it is. Tell me, Captain, do you miss the life of the scientist?" "I still consider myself a scientist, but I confess, the duties of command leave little time for anything else." "So I fear. Good luck, Captain." "Qapla', Commander." "I am going to the shuttle bay to say farewell to your Lieutenant Torres now, Captain." K'Fin headed towards the door, seeming hesitant to leave. Janeway arose from her desk, which was littered with data padds of information that suddenly did not seem to need immediate review. Their plans for the wormhole were all in readiness. Everything else could wait. Somehow, Janeway was not quite ready to say farewell to the Klingon commander. "Commander, I will accompany you there. I would like to give my own sendoffs to officers G'Ruhj and T'Taj. They are good men." K'Fin smiled her response. She was not really ready to say good-bye to Janeway just yet, either. When Janeway and K'Fin entered the shuttle bay, their ears were assaulted with enough noise to have been created by five times as many people as those who were present. Apart from the normal shuttle bay crew of Myers, Joseph, and Andres, who were actually being fairly quiet, Torres, Paris, G'Ruhj and T'Taj were speaking animatedly with Harry Kim and T'Taj's intended, B'Rinna, the tactical officer of the Gin'tak, and with Hudson and Cavelle. As the two commanding officers approached, Harry Kim announced, "Here they are now." A happy mingling of greetings and salutations was exchanged before the mood changed. This was good-bye. Soldiers of the Empire thumped the chests of the Federations. Starfleet personnel firmly shook hands with their Klingon counterparts. Janeway and K'Fin circulated amongst both crews with words of encouragement and praise. The center of attention, however, was the tall young man with blond hair, blue eyes, and a good humored quip for everyone. Gradually, everyone began to drift off until only G'Ruhj and B'Elanna remained near the shuttle. "So, Paris of the House of Paris. Practice with the bat'telh whenever you can. You will learn to use it with great skill. It is an honorable warrior's weapon, and you already use it well, better than some I can think of." The tall Klingon pounded Tom solidly on the shoulder, briefly staggering the recipient of these gruff tokens of affection. "Ooof, uh, thanks, G'Ruhj. I appreciate the lessons. I'll remember them always." Turning to B'Elanna, he said, "B'Elanna Torres, it has been an honor to serve with you." "An honor to serve with you, also," she replied. "Qapla'!" declaimed G'Ruhj, the newly named first officer of the Gin'tak. He walked out of the shuttle bay proudly, passing his new Captain K'Fin on his way. "B'Elanna." She looked up into Tom's face as he admonished her, "You hold on to that bracelet until I come back to claim it, you hear me?" "You'd better believe it, Hotshot. There's no way you are going to die out there. I won't let you. It would be too easy that way!" "You don't know how much better it makes me feel to hear you say that, Lieutenant." Despite the joking words, the look in his eyes conveyed a far different meaning.
That sincere, loving look was in his eyes again. B'Elanna threw open her arms to embrace him, burying her face into his shoulder as he murmured something that brought a sad smile to the face that she presented to him for a long, lingering kiss. A minute passed, with brown eyes holding aquamarine in a steady, wordless gaze before she marched away to the shuttle bay entrance. Tom hungrily watched her retreat, drinking in her every movement, until she was past the doorway and could no longer be seen. Entering the Targ, Tom Paris began the final, vital preflight check of his craft before the mission's beginning. As B'Elanna walked out of the shuttle bay, she encountered one whom she had thought had already returned to her ship still lingering in the corridor. "Lieutenant," said Commander K'Fin, "I'll be leaving shortly to return to the Gin'tak. I will not see you again until we are both back in the Alpha Quadrant." "You really expect we'll make it?" "You do not?" "Let's just say life never seems to make things too easy for me. Besides, what if we do make it? I'm Maquis -- they'll probably just arrest me and toss me in jail. And he'll -- " she stopped short. "He'll be sent back to New Zealand?" She stopped at B'Elanna's startled look. "Yes, I know about it." She quirked her eyebrows at B'Elanna. "Perhaps they'll let you share a cell." "Oh, never. Cruel and inhuman punishment is against the law," B'Elanna replied, glancing down quickly. This shrewd Klingon saw entirely too much for comfort. "He's crazy, you know. He's going to get himself killed." "You cannot stop him from being what he is, just as he cannot stop you from being what you are. Ah, I apologize, Lieutenant. I show my age. I begin to sound like a mothering fool." "You know, you look something like my mother," B'Elanna said slowly. "I noticed it from the first moment I saw you." "You do me a compliment, Lieutenant. Your mother was one of the most attractive women I ever knew." B'Elanna's eyes snapped wide. "You know my mother?" "I have not seen her in many years, not since before you were born. We met at a science competition on the homeworld when we were mere girls. She was beautiful even then, and annoyingly brilliant. She took a prize that ought to have been mine. I have never forgotten her. You are much like her," she paused, then added, "shorter, of course." "We used to fight all the time," said B'Elanna softly. "I miss her sometimes." She suddenly realized just how often she did. "A good sparring partner is hard to find," said K'Fin. "I am sure she feels your loss keenly." "I doubt it." "I do not." "Commander, if for some odd reason this doesn't work out, and you get stuck here like us, I mean, well, we don't have any raktajino on board, of course, but -- " "Just don't make me eat Jell-O, Lieutenant." The two crews were in readiness. Lieutenant Paris had flown the Targ out of Voyager's shuttle bay and into the position he was to hold, a mere ten kilometers from Voyager. The Gin'tak held a point position midway between them, but slightly forward, the three ships forming a shallow triangle. At the appointed second, the Gin'tak launched a probe which was activated by three coordinated magneton pulses punching out of the three ships. In front of the probe, a swirling pattern emerged from the fabric of space, a whirling cyclone crackling with the powerful energy of time and dimensions. As it grew larger and stronger, the distortion threw out the tell-tale chroniton and verteron particles that marked its energy signature. On the bridge of the Gin'tak, Jinar sat in impotent frustration in the second officer's chair he had been so graciously given. Clutching desperately to his remaining bargaining chip, the sole knowledge of Gin'tak's command codes which he still withheld from the bird-of-prey's Captain K'Fin and First Officer G'Ruhj, Jinar had demanded a place on the bridge during the wormhole generation attempt. Hakod, whom Jinar had always thought to be ultimately loyal to him, was standing guard behind him. Even Hakod had turned against Jinar! Fools, all of them. His allies were awaiting him at the coordinates he had so carefully supplied to the unsuspecting navigator. The entire bridge crew of the Gin'tak would pay for the insolence shown to the rightful captain of the Gin'tak when he had seized his destiny as ruler of the Empire. The female scientist looked intently at the viewscreen before her. Finally, she ordered, "G'Ruhj, open the comm lines to Voyager and to the Targ. We cut our deflector dish emissions and enter the wormhole on my mark." Unable to sit still in her command chair, Kathryn Janeway paced behind the helm where Chakotay, the finest pilot currently available to Voyager, sat at the conn. At K'Fin's mark, she ordered the energy output from Voyager's deflector dish increased by half, knowing that Tom Paris would be doing the same, to compensate for the cession of the emissions from the Gin'tak. The bird-of-prey moved across Voyager's viewscreen at what appeared to be a stately pace, thanks to the size of the angry maelstrom in front of them. In fact, the Gin'tak was moving at half-impulse as it flew into the center of the wormhole and was sucked from view. "Are we still in contact with the Gin'tak, Harry?" "Yes, Captain, they are still transmitting. They seem to be moving quickly through the wormhole. Estimated time of their reaching the midpoint is 47 seconds." "Keep me informed, Harry, and let's hear the count for the last 10 seconds. Make sure Mr. Paris hears the count, too." "Aye, Captain." "I'm moving to the bridge transporter station now, Captain. Nicoletti, if there is even the SLIGHTEST fluctuation in the energy signatures, I need to know about it!" Lieutenant Nicoletti accepted B'Elanna's orders. The make-work exercise with Qas that Nicoletti had been assigned, investigating materials the captain had already reviewed, was now paying an unexpected dividend. The young lieutenant understood what was happening well enough to assist her chief at the engineering station on the bridge during this critical time. If Harry was offended that B'Elanna was to take on the transporter responsibility until Tom was retrieved, he did not show it. The operations officer had plenty of other functions to keep track of as they confronted the wormhole. After what seemed to be an agonizingly long time, Harry began to count backwards from ten. As he intoned the last couple of numbers, the captain called out, "Cut deflector dish power on my mark. Mark!" Harry cut the power as instructed and looked at his instrumentation. "The Gin'tak has assumed power generation at 150% of the starting level, Captain. The wormhole appears stable." The captain examined the violently whirling energy field of the wormhole, which resembled a tornado she had seen as a child back home in Indiana. To fly into such a thing was against every instinct, but it might be the way home. "Commander, give me half-impulse. Engage!" Qas had done his work oh so well on the transporter. Unfortunately for him, the wrong being from the Gin'tak happened onto the transporter pad, and he himself was the one pulverized to the state of widely scattered molecules throughout the space around Voyager. His damage to the helm controls was even more subtle, perhaps too subtle for his original purpose. The nicked circuitry's flaw had not shown up on any of the scans made by the repair crews, and had the wormhole been generated at the first location where Voyager and the Gin'tak had met, the controls would probably not have failed until Voyager was safely on the other side of the wormhole, in Alpha Quadrant space. Voyager had not remained where it was, however. Three days travel at warp four, with changes in heading and speed along the way, wore away the circuitry at the nick to a filament ready to snap. The sabotage was exceedingly clever in execution, for the circuit would cross the warp controls to mimic an order to form a warp bubble that would move the ship at a speed of warp factor one. Nothing more was needed to disrupt a wormhole, bringing it crashing down upon any vessel within it or too close to its entrance. Unluckily for Voyager, the circuit failed at a critical time. When Captain Janeway requested forward movement at half-impulse power, she got a warp bubble instead. "Chakotay! I said half-impulse! Get us out of warp!" "The helm is not responding! The controls are frozen at warp one!" "Don't go into the wormhole! Abort!" B'Elanna Torres acted on pure, savage instinct. For every change in position and speed, she had adjusted the transporter controls so the lock remained on Tom Paris where he was sitting inside the Targ, awaiting the beam-out as Voyager moved into the wormhole. The Targ had the ability to function on its automatic control system. Tom had been there only to make last minute changes that might be necessary due to any unexpected fluctuations in the emissions generating the wormhole. Traveling into th
e wormhole at warp was something for which he had no way to compensate. At the captain's order to abort the attempt, B'Elanna punched in warp one, and with a flick of her wrist when the transporter lock showed green, activated the transporter. Warp speed transports were against Starfleet policy because of the danger involved, especially to the one being transported. A slight miscalculation, and no transporter lock would catch hold. At warp speeds, there was no chance for a second try. Kathryn Janeway understood that sometimes Starfleet policies were guidelines, however, not hard and fast rules. B'Elanna Torres had completed warp speed transports successfully before, and she did again. Tom was whisked off the Targ and to the pre-designated coordinates on Voyager. As Tom entered the captain's ready room, he had only three words for his savior. "B'Elanna, why Sickbay?" "Just in case that hard head of yours needed examining, Tom." She flashed him a 100-watt grin that would have to serve for the time being in lieu of the tremendous hug she wanted to give him. Hearing Thomas Eugene Paris whining at her was one of the pleasantest things she could think of experiencing at the moment. Captain Janeway waved him to the empty seat next to B'Elanna where Tuvok and Chakotay were sitting. "Sit down, Tom, we're having the post-mortem." "Glad it isn't on me." The captain shot him her "stuff it" look. That joke hit a little too close to home. "You were saying, B'Elanna." "Well, Captain, as far as I can tell the Gin'tak will survive and should exit the wormhole at the place we expected near Qo'noS. They were in a similar position within the wormhole during their trip here to the Delta Quadrant, and the ship survived. That time, the other ship actually went into the wormhole at warp and blew apart." "So you think the Gin'tak did make it back home to the Alpha Quadrant? At least they can let Starfleet know we're out here, then," said Chakotay hopefully. "Maybe they can, but I don't know how much good that's going to do us, or anyone we have back in the Alpha Quadrant. You see this time the trajectory we took across the mouth of the wormhole, which hurled us three days into the future, coupled with the Targ's continuing to send out its emissions on automatic pilot, increased the spin of the wormhole at that critical time when the Gin'tak would have been preparing to exit the wormhole." "So, I thought you said that the Gin'tak would probably survive, B'Elanna," said Tom, quizzically. "I believe it will survive, but like us, it's going to have been thrown forward in time into the future." Dreading the answer, Janeway asked, "How far, B'Elanna?" "At least two centuries. I don't have all the data yet, and I haven't had time to check the figures, but -- " "TWO CENTURIES!" cried the captain in dismay. Her own groans did not quite drown out those evoked from Tom and Chakotay. Even Tuvok exhaled more strenuously than normal. "My heart goes out to their families. I know that Klingons value service to their Empire, willingly going to their deaths if they are honorable ones, but to leave everyone and everything you know to move into the future by two centuries . . . ." "Actually, a bit more than that, by my cal -- " B'Elanna's speech was interrupted by the door chime. The captain bid Harry Kim enter. "I thought you might want to know that those energy signatures we were looking for where we might find an old, collapsed wormhole? Well, we found one now." He handed a padd over to B'Elanna. "I think we already knew where to look for that one, Harry," deadpanned Tom. "No, no, this is important. This confirms they went into the future. About 225 years, I'd guess, from the level of the chroniton particle readings." B'Elanna looked at Janeway. "I think this confirms our theories, at least. I'm not sure I'm prepared to risk traveling home this way again very soon, though." "You're right, B'Elanna," sighed the captain. "It's just too risky with our current level of knowledge and technology. We can continue investigating this procedure in our spare time. Maybe someday we can make it work, although I have had a really strong hunch from the beginning that this technique would be a lot more controllable for time travel than for moving from point-to-point in space." "I would have to agree, Captain, and apart from the amount of energy resources this experiment has cost us, we have lost several days of travel by continuing to remain in a single area of space," Tuvok said coolly. Picking up the data disk that Hudson had retrieved from the Gin'tak, Janeway added, "But one thing now appears certain. Voyager has a much better chance of arriving in the Alpha Quadrant before the Gin'tak does. I promised one thing to K'Fin and to G'Ruhj, and I am going to ask all of you that if something happens to me, you will fulfill my promise." Looking around at her senior staff, she went on, "This disk outlines Captain Jinar's traitorous activities. It MUST get into the hands of the Klingon authorities. Unless Klingon nature changes very much in the next two centuries or so, I think that Jinar will find a much different welcome than he expects when he arrives home to Qo'noS." Every one of her staff bore the same grim smile as their captain as they acknowledged their acceptance of her charge to them. "Well then, Chakotay, let's get back on course. Mr. Paris, will you take a few moments before going off duty to chart a heading back to the Alpha Quadrant? Tell Grimes warp factor six." "Aye, Captain," replied the helmsman, getting back to his feet. "Tom," B'Elanna said to him as they walked out into the corridor, heading towards the bridge together. "Yes, B'Elanna?" "I have something to return to you." "B'Elanna, why don't you hold onto it a bit? You know how reckless I can get. I'll only give it back to you to hold for me again, sometime." She peered into a pair of sparkling blue eyes. "Just wait until I get you alone, Paris." "Can't wait, Lieutenant." The classic Paris smirk appeared as B'Elanna shook her head. "You are incorrigible, but I don't think I'd have you any other way." B'Elanna grabbed on to Tom's elbow. When he saw the gleam in her eye, his smirk was replaced by a pucker. Tom turned to face her, bending down hungrily to accept her kiss. Their lips were a breath apart. "Tom, good to get you back!" The two lieutenants jumped back with alacrity to face the curly-haired security officer. "Great timing, Hudson," Tom grunted. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" he asked in exaggerated innocence. "Not at all. I was just going to inspect Lieutenant Torres' lip action." Tom managed his best-ever imitation of Janeway's legendary glare. B'Elanna looked up at Tom in exasperation as Hudson began to chuckle. Correctly gauging the expiring patience of his superiors and calming himself, the ensign addressed the chief engineer. "Seriously, Lieutenant Torres, I have a task to perform." The lieutenants stood before him, crossing their arms before them in perfect symmetry with one another. "Well, get on with it, Ensign," demanded B'Elanna. "I brought you something from the Gin'tak," said Hudson. "The lady commander told me to give it to you if anything happened to her. Here it is." He held out his hand and gave B'Elanna a small ornate box. "Thank you, Ensign," B'Elanna said, turning away. "Lieutenant," said Hudson as he turned to go, "you wouldn't by any chance be interested in teaching me to fight with a bat'telh, would you?" In exchange, I could show you my Vulcan trick. Comes in really handy, especially with guys bigger than you are." "I'll think about it. Now out of here," said B'Elanna over her shoulder. "Oh," said Hudson. "I was actually talking to the other lieutenant, Lieutenant, but if you'd -- " "OUT!" Hudson resumed course down the corridor. B'Elanna said to Tom, "Meet me in my quarters later?" They were sitting together. Just sitting, not talking, watching the stars go by, the box on the desk. "Aren't you going to open it?" B'Elanna sat looking at the box for a long moment more, then opened it. She took out a simple but elegant necklace, a slender latinum chain with a brilliant blue aquamarine stone. "What is it?" asked Tom. "It's a jenok," said B'Elanna. "The traditional gift to a young woman when she comes of age. Look, here's a message capsule." She made no move to play it. Gently, Tom took it out of the box and activated it while B'Elanna sat staring at the jenok in her hand. K'Fin's voice was so clear it sounded as if she were in the room with them. "Lieutenant, I have asked Captain Hudson to bring you this in the event . . . we should not be able to meet again. This small thing, this jenok, belonged to the mother of my father. She had no daughter, so she gave it to me many years ago. Now I give it to you, as a token of my esteem. You are not to torture yourself with thoughts of what went wrong or what you might have done differently. Learn, surely, but do not grieve for us. However,
warn those who are in Sto'Vo'Kor that a scientist is coming! Vay' DaneHbogh yIchargh!" "What does that mean, 'vay' DaneHbogh yIchargh?'" asked Tom. "It means, 'Conquer what you desire.'" "Now that is a motto we both might want to remember." As he said this, his eyes shone upon the one whom he desired the most. B'Elanna's lips twisted into a smirk much like the one her fellow lieutenant's often assumed. "You can always try, Tom." EPILOGUE K'Fin gripped her hands tightly onto the arms of the command chair as the Gin'tak exited the wormhole. An explosion of lights and colors assaulted her eyes, forcing her to turn away from the viewscreen before her. She felt G'Ruhj stumble next to her, grabbing hold of the back of her chair as the Gin'tak shuddered wildly beneath their feet. Jinar's scream rang out wordlessly before the stars again became visible to them. She opened her eyes. The stars in the viewscreen were familiar. Very familiar, and almost what she had hoped to see, but not quite. Looking to the left, K'Fin could see the sun that shone on Qo'noS. Surely it was her home sun. But it was different, somehow. The stars were not quite right. "Where are we now, DenIbya' Qatlh?" Jinar spit out with hatred as he swiveled in his chair to face his former first officer. "We are not where we are supposed to be!" "We have arrived at the co-ordinates which T'Taj was given, Jinar," growled G'Ruhj. "Not your co-ordinates, but ours!" The warrior arose from his first officer's chair and began to pace in his smooth, feline gait. G'Ruhj obviously did not realize what had happened, had not seen the subtle differences that most people would not notice, but which she could. Exhibiting a calmness she did not feel in her heart, K'Fin turned to the navigator. "I know where we are, T'Taj, but WHEN are we?" T'Taj bent down to his control panel, entering commands and staring at the results. He was silent for a few moments, then glanced over to Jinar with what might have passed as a worried look if he were of one of the weaker races, such as humans, but which of course could not have been, since he was a Klingon warrior. Turning to Captain K'Fin, he swallowed suddenly before saying, "By my calculations, we are . . . forward in time more than two centuries." "WHAT!" roared Jinar. The ex-captain of the Gin'tak jumped to his feet and took out his hidden dagger as if he meant to eviscerate the haplessly honest navigator on the spot. Hakod was only a fraction of a second behind him, however. Grabbing him from behind, Hakod wrested the taj away from Jinar. G'Ruhj swiftly jumped to the back of the bridge, his own dagger in hand. Moving to protect the navigator and to back up Hakod, he said menacingly to Jinar, "Wisdom dictates that the life of an honorable officer should be spared, however unpleasant the news he is forced to give his superiors upon direct orders! Especially by one such as you!" In his frustration, G'Ruhj longed to shove his blade into Jinar's throat. After two centuries, who would care what plots Jinar might have instigated? Before Jinar could hurl out the reply that was burning for release from his mouth, the attention of all was stolen by Tactical Officer B'Rinna, who pointed to the viewscreen as she cried, "Look!" The screen was suddenly filled with a roiling slash of subspace disturbance. Clearly, another wormhole was opening up in front of them. K'Fin counted seven ships plummeting out of the mouth of the wormhole, swiftly moving to take positions around the Gin'tak that were meant to hold the vessel's current position. Despite being held in restraint by Hakod and ignoring the fact that he was no longer the captain, Jinar began to bark orders at the crew, ordering them to power up the engines to make their escape. The crew had not forgotten Jinar's disgrace, however, and looked to their Captain K'Fin, instead, for orders. Hers died on her lips, for within seconds it was seen by all as wasted effort: the Gin'tak was surrounded and unable to move a hair from where it was located, just outside of home space. A misty glow could be seen around the ships on the viewscreen, and a shimmering haze, like a transporter beam, blanketed every individual on the bridge. The analogy to a transporter beam quickly proved to be correct, as a dozen armed men and women took shape, half aiming their weapons at Jinar, the others in defensive postures around the rest of the crew. They were all Klingon, dressed in clothing that, apart from the brighter colors, appeared much the same as those that the Gin'tak's personnel were wearing. The transporter beam shone again, and three women appeared. One, a mature Klingon woman, stepped in front of Jinar and declared, "Jinar, whose connection with the House of Duras is well known, a House which has been infamous for over two centuries for its treachery, you are placed under arrest for crimes against the Klingon Confederation. Oh, yes, we found out who you really were. Your allies paid for their crimes two hundred years ago. Now you will pay for yours!" Jinar snarled at the woman, but despite his obvious struggle, he was unable to move from his position. A bright light shone briefly around Jinar and the six guards holding their weapons on him before all seven vanished, leaving Hakod in place, his arms still in the air, now restraining only emptiness. The Klingon woman turned around and addressed the rest of the bridge crew, "The rest of you, be at ease. The treachery of your former captain is known to be his alone. You will all be our guests soon on the homeworld, but first, we must educate you to the changes that have occurred in the 230 years since you have been in our system. This is your time now. We cannot allow you to return to your own time, which has gone on without you. The past must remain the past; we will do what we can to help you live in what was once your future, but which has become your present. "My name is K'Kara, Security Chief of the Klingon Confederation Council. We welcome you home." The woman nodded to the remaining guards, who lowered their weapons and assumed the "at ease" position. They all watched K'Kara as she walked over to G'Ruhj and added, "You will assume command of the Gin'tak, Commander G'Ruhj. Take your place in the captain's chair." G'Ruhj stared at K'Kara in shock, but then a slow grin spread across his features. His clear eyes met those of the navigator. "T'Taj, I will need your navigation skills a while longer, but as of this second, you are First Officer T'Taj." In reply, the new first officer jerked his head, the only acknowledgment to his commanding officer of his acceptance of the responsibility; but the pride he felt glittered brightly from his eyes as they sought those of the young tactical officer. B'Rinna's joy radiated from her face. The navigator fingered the betrothal necklace he had been carrying in his pocket that soon would be resting upon her breast. The right time to bestow it upon B'Rinna had finally come. Jumping to her feet and bridling at being removed from command, Commander K'Fin glared at the security chief and was about to explode in displeasure when the other two women on the bridge stepped over, attracting her full attention for the first time. A flicker of amusement crossed the face of K'Kara as she nodded at them. "Please, Captain K'Fin, do not take offense at this seeming slight. Your presence is needed elsewhere. May I present Zydania Dax and her colleague K'Atarin Riker, representatives of the Federation Temporal Studies Institute. They have been anticipating this meeting for a very long time." Looking over at the two women, K'Kara appended, "Just at the time your equations indicated. I am sure you are proud of yourselves." Her face broke out in a broad grimace of a smile. "We certainly are! But Commander K'Fin, or, I should say Captain, deserves a lot of the credit, too! And it truly is a pleasure to finally meet my colleague after so many years. Jadzia would have been so pleased." She extended her arm to K'Fin to shake hands enthusiastically in the human manner. "I'm Zydania. Zydania Dax." She spoke as if K'Fin should have known the Trill, who was of middle years and who had the serene smile K'Fin remembered seeing upon the faces of so many of the Trill temporal scientists with whom she had worked. Try as she might, though, K'Fin could not recall any Trill with whom she had worked who had been called Dax. Responding to K'Fin's lack of recognition, Zydania went on, "In a former host body, I worked on the temporal equations that bear your name and mine, as well as those of our colleagues Torres and Janeway, after their return to the Alpha Quadrant." The Klingon scientist stared at the Trill as she finally began to grasp a glimmering of understanding. "You mean they worked? The equations were able to predict when and where the wormhole could take a ship?" "Of course. They were rudimentary at first, but Torres and Janeway helped Jadzia Dax refine them. Other
s took over later. Predictable time travel has been really possible only in the last 50 years or so, and generating wormholes for traveling from one point in space to another in the same time is still as much of an art as it is science. But your name is as important as any when the founders of modern temporal mechanics is mentioned. The 'K'Fin Equations' are basic tools used in all time travel research. Your colleagues made sure that you received equal credit in all the discoveries that the three of you made once Voyager again established contact with the Alpha Quadrant." K'Kara added, "And, as you might have gathered, Janeway and Torres also made sure that Jinar's treachery was made known to the Klingon authorities of their time. The Confederation Council has been avidly anticipating your return for a very long while so that justice can finally be done." At the same time that she felt pleasure that Jinar would get the punishment well due him, her mind spun at the implications of what she had just heard. K'Fin glanced over at the Trill's companion, who was the Trill's junior by many years. A tall woman who in appearance seemed mainly to be human, she obviously had some Klingon blood in her ancestry as well. Her brow ridges flowed across her forehead in a vaguely familiar pattern. There was a hint of Bajoran wrinkling across her nose, however, and her eyes were a startling blue in color. Her face was framed in waves of dark, curling hair that glinted with reddish highlights. The young woman smiled as she introduced herself. "I'm qa'ta'rIn, to use the Klingon pronunciation, Captain K'Fin. I've been looking forward to meeting you since I was a little girl. I'm so glad that the equations proved accurate and that I was the one who has received the honor of being the one to welcome you home. There were a lot of questions about whether or not the measurements taken by Voyager had been precise enough to predict your actual point of exit from the wormhole, but I was sure they would be right. Only two hours off! The Grandmas certainly knew their stuff!" she crowed. "The 'Grandmas?'" queried K'Fin. She looked at the two women. Both of them seemed to be speaking in riddles. That seemed to have happened to her a lot, lately. "Well, Torres and Janeway were actually my great-great grandmas, but I always just call them 'The Grandmas.' I'm sorry, Captain K'Fin, but you see, I feel I have known you so long -- all my life, really -- from family stories, as well as from my studies at Starfleet Academy; and I have been forgetting that for you, it all just happened. I'm sure I'll have time to fill in the gaps for you during our trip to the Daystrom Institute. As soon as you have packed anything you want to take with you, we can leave." "Why are we going to the Daystrom Institute?" "So that you can receive formal recognition as co-discoverer of the time travel equations, of course. Your award has been a long time in being delivered to you, from our perspective, at least," remarked Dax. "The Institute thought it would be fitting for me to greet you, since I never had the privilege of working with you directly before. And K'Atarin, as a member of a very distinguished Starfleet family, not to mention a descendent of both of your colleagues from Voyager, was chosen to represent them at the presentation." 230 years. It finally hit K'Fin how long she had been out of touch with the galaxy of scientific discoveries. Some, apparently, were considered to be HER discoveries. She felt ill for a second, but refused to succumb to weakness. "Zydania Dax, there is much I must learn if I am to stay in your century. I have nothing of importance to take from the Gin'tak. Let us board your ship so that I can begin catching up. I may have been a founder of these equations, but I want -- no, I need -- to learn more about their final shape." K'Fin stood up a little straighter and ceded the captain's chair to G'Ruhj as she gathered herself together for the tasks ahead of her. Dax nodded to K'Atarin. "Didn't I tell you?" The younger woman smiled in return. As if this were a pre-arranged signal, K'Atarin Riker waved G'Ruhj down from his position at the navigator's station, from which he had been giving orders to his bridge officers while the scientists spoke. As he stepped down to his command post, K'Atarin moved away only as much as was necessary for him to pass her, making a direct and frank appraisal of him from head to toe as he moved smoothly to the chair that awaited him. G'Ruhj's jade- green eyes met the clear azure eyes of the woman of mixed heritage. She was so close that he drank in her scent. He noted her beauty, seeing her spirit dance in those eyes . . . . Those eyes! He had seen their like just in the last day of his memory, even though it had actually been over two centuries since he had seen them. And that brow. He grinned in sudden understanding of whom at least one of the "grandfathers" must have been. *Too bad I was not able to remain longer in the Delta Quadrant; that one had been a noble rival,* he thought. A slightly off- kilter smirk from the young woman removed any lingering suspicions and led G'Ruhj to admit that this incarnation of those eyes and smile was far more to his liking than any he had seen previously. His own grin must have revealed his thoughts, for K'Atarin's smile brightened. "I don't think that the family stories have done you justice, G'Ruhj. I hope to get a chance to share some of those stories with you sometime soon. We can see how accurately they portrayed the events that are so fresh in your memory." Her voice deepened into a sensual purr, quickening the new captain's pulse. "Regrettably, we must now request permission to depart your ship, leaving these six on the bridge to help you to begin your adjustment to your new time. Is this acceptable to you, Captain G'Ruhj?" At the sound of his new commission, G'Ruhj's grin broadened even further. He glanced back at T'Taj, who stood a little taller and straighter in response. The Gin'tak might be only an antique now, but G'Ruhj was confident that he would have a better ship, and soon. With a brusque nod of his head, Captain G'Ruhj acknowledged the request to leave. "Until we meet again, Captain," the young woman said, the sultry undertone in her voice making an unmistakable promise of the comment. She moved next to K'Fin and Dax in position for transport, her eyes meeting his. As the figures began to disappear, the new captain caught the insouciant wink sent his way by K'Atarin Riker, but something more as well: the expression in her eyes and upon her visage, which glowed with beauty and passion, conveyed a deeper meaning that robbed him of breath for a moment. The blood began to sing in G'Ruhj's veins. After the women had disappeared from view, everyone on the bridge of the Gin'tak was silent for a few moments, absorbing all they had just experienced. G'Ruhj's mind was not on the changes that two centuries might have made upon the Empire, however. His attention was upon the sensation of his heart leaping in exultation in his chest that at last, he had found her, the one who would look at him the way Torres had looked at Paris, and in the most unlikely of places. As he turned again to his friend, his new second in command, G'Ruhj shouted out in happiness, "T'Taj, I think I am going to like this new century!"
Cracks 05 Inheritance Page 1
