Whither Are They Vanished

by PT Collective

  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.

  "Whither Are They Vanished?"

  by the PT Collective

  *Banquo: Whither are they vanish'd? MacBeth: Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!* from "MacBeth," Act I, Scene III, by William Shakespeare (public domain) ***** Ensign Ethan Simms sat on a Sickbay biobed staring dejectedly at the carpeted floor. He didn't even look up at the swoosh of the doors, hoping that whoever it was, his or her errand had nothing to do with him. No such luck. "Ethe, the captain and the senior officers are meeting in the conference room. She called them up there after Tuvok gave her your report. I guess they're probably talking about you," said Ensign Mikel Hudson, leaning on the bed beside him. Simms said nothing. "I mean, it's so early. It's barely 0730 hours. The senior staff meeting wasn't scheduled today until 1400 hours. That I know of, nothing else is going on, and you know," he said conspiratorially, "I always know." He paused, then added, "At least they're taking you seriously." "They're just trying to decide what to do with their first really bad case of deep space sickness," said Simms crossly. "Ethe, stop it. You saw what you saw. I'm sure there's a logical explanation." "Maybe the logical explanation is that I just imagined the whole thing." Mikel walked carefully on this dangerous ground. "Well, you have had a lot on your mind recently, what with Janine and all. You've been under a lot of stress -- *a lot* -- and you haven't been eating right. Has the doctor been putting you through a bunch of tests?" "Yeah." "Did Tuvok give you up and down the road for not calling for back-up?" "Yeah." "Ethe, I know how much you're going to hate it, but I wouldn't be surprised if the captain didn't send someone down here to get you. You may have to go over the whole thing again in front of the senior staff." "I know." "I wish I could help." "You can't." "I'm just glad you're all right." "Oh, yeah, I'm fine! Just scared into unconsciousness by my own imaginings!" There was a long silence, then Simms asked, "Is it all over the ship? That I've cracked up?" Mikel jumped to his feet. "Ethan, stop it. You're the best security officer I've ever known. You're not a liar, you're not a coward, and you're *not* cracking up! You just experienced something they have no explanation for yet. And, no, I don't think anyone even knows except me, the captain, Tuvok, and maybe now the rest of the senior staff." The doctor shimmered into existence. "Ah, Ensign Hudson. What a surprise," he said dryly. "I'm sorry, Doc. I just wanted to see if -- " The doctor held up a silencing hand. "Stop right there, Ensign. You may escort your friend to the captain's conference room. I have the results of his tests. We will be continuing up there." "Am I being relieved of duty?" asked Simms. "Of course not, Ensign, but the captain and I think it prudent that you not be alone just now." ***** Everyone looked up as Hudson, Simms, and the doctor came into the conference room. Hudson, having delivered his charge, had turned to go when Janeway's voice stopped him. "Gentlemen, please sit down. Doctor, your report." "I have administered every possible test I am aware of which might explain such a hallucination as Ensign Simms experienced. Physically, I can find nothing wrong with Mr. Simms, except that he is slightly malnourished, apparently from skipping meals." The captain made no bones about it. "Mentally?" Ethan steeled himself for the worst, but the doctor merely said, "Mr. Simms' mental state appears to be well within the normal parameters." "I see. Ensign Simms, I want you to tell your story from the beginning. You may speak freely; the senior staff understands that your report, for now, will not leave this room." Simms glanced around the gathered faces, wondering what the captain had told them. Neelix, the doctor, Paris, and Kim looked very concerned. Chakotay looked thoughtful; Torres looked wary and doubtful. Tuvok, as usual, looked annoyed. Simms' green eyes came to rest on the captain. She too looked concerned, but not irritated or upset. She gave him a little nod of encouragement, knowing him to be a very private man of few words. "Start at the beginning, Ensign." Ethan stared at the table top then started to speak slowly and deliberately. "I couldn't sleep. I've had some things on my mind recently, as you may know. I finally gave up and got dressed. I didn't have a plan exactly. I thought I'd go watch the stars at the holographic resort or maybe sit by the fire in Sandrine's. As I came down the corridor by the holodeck, I heard strange shuffling noises going away from me around the corner. I don't know why, but I got this really bad feeling." He glanced up at Tuvok. "That is to say, I decided further investigation was warranted, so I passed by the holodecks and went around the corner. No one was there, and the door to the turbolift at the end of the corridor stood open. I started to turn back, when, well, this is where it starts getting weird." Harry and the captain exchanged a look but neither said anything. "I felt this very cool draft of air, and, there was this smell; it was very faint. I suppose I was imagining the whole thing." Chakotay decided not to let Simms continue down this road. "Describe the smell." "Flowers," said Simms. "Rotting flowers." There was a short silence. "Go on, Ensign," said Tuvok. "Well, as you know, there's only two doors on that corridor, and they both only access the holodecks' power systems. I don't have the codes to open those doors, and they appeared secure anyway. That's when I noticed the Jeffries tube access panel door was ajar. I opened it up and as far down the tube as I could see there was nothing there. But I could, well, *feel* that something was in there." He paused. "The first thing I thought was 'Who on Earth crawls around in Jeffries tubes at 0200?' Maybe I should have called for back-up then, but what was I going to report? That I'd found an empty tube in the middle of the night? Molina would have never stopped laughing. I crawled in and shut the hatch behind me. It was, well, creepy. I kept hearing those faint shuffles and at intersections I'd see things move out of the corners of my eyes. I followed as best I could." "Why didn't you call for help then?" asked Harry. "I decided I'd tough it out by myself until I had it figured out a little better." "Brave man," said Paris. Simms gave him a wry look. "Not for long enough, Lieutenant. I had gone a long way, about 70 meters, I guess, around several corners and down a couple of levels, when I heard the noise again, only this time it sounded like it might have been *behind* me. I called out back down the tube, and that's when," he paused, then resumed, "that's when the lights started shutting down back there. I have to admit that got me pretty spooked. I started moving pretty fast but the darkness started catching up to me so I decided to sit tight and see what happened. The darkness passed me in a rush. For a moment, there was nothing -- then I could feel cool damp air going past too, almost like a breeze." "Did you hear anything else?" asked Tuvok. "I thought I heard far-off voices, but I couldn't make out any words. It could have just been reverb from the warp field generator; I was pretty close to Main Engineering by that time. I decided to bail and go get Mik, um, Ensign Hudson, and some lights." "I'd *say*," said Neelix kindly. "*I'd* have 'bailed' a lot sooner than *that,* Ensign." "It was rather alarming, sir," Simms agreed. "While I sat there, I got this feeling things were . . . going past me. That's when something may have, uh, touched my face. I'm not sure. No, I am sure. Something touched me. It . . . it held my face still for a moment, then it touched me again on the forehead. I have no idea what it was." "And you still didn't call for assistance?" asked Tuvok tersely. "At that point, sir, I admit all I thought about was getting the hell out of there. I didn't even think about my combadge. I'm sorry. I know that was a bad call." "It was a natural reaction, Ensign," said Janeway, giving Tuvok a look. "But, Captain, I usually react better to stress than that. I apologize." "I know you do, Ensign." There was a silence as the senior staff digested the story. Strange noises? Co
ol air? Rotting flowers? Voices? Contact? It was too fantastic. "Tell us the rest, Ensign," said the captain gently. "I scrambled around until I found an access panel, and I came out in Main Engineering. I was glad to be back in some light, even if they were only those dim after-hours things." "Did you see anyone?" asked Chakotay. "As you know, only a skeleton crew is assigned there at that hour, sir, and they tend to hang out around the corner by the main warp drive. I was over by the auxiliary power control grid. I looked around, and that's when I saw him. I . . . I knew right away it was all very, very wrong. He had horrible plasma burns all over his back and he kind of *faded out* at the edges. He was standing in front of the auxiliary power interface. I remember thinking, 'How could someone be standing up with burns like that? He should be dead.' He reached out like he was going to touch the panel." "You weren't scared?" asked Harry incredulously. "By then I was too scared to be scared. My heart dropped through my stomach straight into my guts. Although I don't remember it, I guess I made some sort of noise because then he turned and looked right at me. Right *at* me. His . . . eyes. It was like looking into the cold depths of empty space. I couldn't look away." Simms' gaze returned to the tabletop. "I guess that's when I passed out." "Was it Michael Jonas?" whispered Neelix. "No," said Simms. "It was Lon Suder." ***** The senior staff sat deep in thought. Simms, accompanied by Hudson, had returned to his quarters to, as the captain put it, "take it easy." "Chakotay?" she said. "Your thoughts?" "Every fiber of my being tells me Simms is not making this up," the commander replied evenly. "Maybe he just dreamed the whole thing and was sleepwalking," said Tom. "We all know under that cool facade he's been a wreck since his fiancee disappeared. I mean, a man can't just lose his bride-to-be into thin air one night and not have it affect him." He very discreetly put a hand on the knee of the lieutenant seated next to him. "Tuvok?" "Security scans show nothing, Captain. No abnormal power surges, no temperature fluctuations, no system's failures. Nothing." "Doctor?" "He's grieving of course for Ensign Lamont, but there's nothing yet to support the theory that his mental state would afford this sort of very detailed hallucination." "Perhaps it wasn't a hallucination," said Chakotay. Torres jumped in, the first to dare to use the "g" word. "Are you saying Simms actually saw a *ghost* in my engine room?" she asked crossly. Her knee got a squeeze. Under the table she started prying the offending fingers off. "I'm just saying we don't know anything for certain yet. Perhaps -- " Chakotay was cut off by the beep of Torres' combadge. "Carey to Torres." "Go ahead, Lieutenant." "Lieutenant, we've got a problem down here. The main power grid is experiencing a cascade failure. Engines are off-line, and we're losing systems all over the ship." B'Elanna jumped up. "Switch to back-up power; I'm on my way." "We tried that, Lieutenant -- " "Hamilton to Chakotay." "Go ahead, Hamilton." "Sir, the helm is not responding." Janeway jumped to her feet. "Red alert." The Klaxon blared exactly once, then ground down. The ship gave a shudder and was plunged into darkness. The entire senior staff jumped to their feet in surprised consternation. "Everyone remain still!" Chakotay's voice barked into the darkness. The last thing they needed was for everyone to stumble into each other. The captain's, Chakotay's and Torres' combadges beeped simultaneously. They each tapped their badges and were rewarded with a cacophony of babbling voices. "Captain! All sensors are off-line! We're blind inside and out!" "Commander! Hamilton is missing!" "Torres!" came Carey's voice again. "You better get down here -- Aaahhh!" Torres' combadge went dead. "Carey, what's going on? What happened? Carey?" B'Elanna began to grope her way forward. She felt her arms gripped by someone she thought was Chakotay. "Commander," she growled. "I have to get to Engineering." "Not yet," a voice hissed in her ear. Her blood ran cold and she gasped as she felt the icy breath upon her face. This wasn't Chakotay. But who . . . ? The hands on her arms felt like bands of steel. A heavy scent of moldy flowers surrounded her and she began to feel dizzy. Suddenly the emergency back-up lights came on. B'Elanna stumbled, as though suddenly released from restraints. In the dim red glow, she was startled to discover that she was standing isolated from the rest of the staff; there was no one near enough to have caught hold of her. Chakotay and the captain were inching their way toward the door together. The others were still standing frozen in place. Harry Kim had a look of horror on his face. He was staring straight at B'Elanna. "Harry, are you okay?" B'Elanna asked. "Janine," Harry breathed before he sagged insensate against Tom Paris. "Harry! Harry!" Tom exclaimed as he shook his friend, frantically trying to get a response from him. Harry remained unresponsive, his eyes staring wide. The doctor moved quickly to his side, tricorder flashing. "Emergency medical transport," he called, tapping his combadge quickly. There was no response. "Transport," he barked again. Still no response. The captain quickly tapped her combadge. Nothing. "Communications are out," Chakotay grimaced. "Let's get out there and see what's happening," Janeway agreed. Chakotay and the captain hurried out the door. "Lieutenant, please bring Ensign Kim to Sickbay," the doctor ordered before quickly following the two officers. "Aye, sir," Tom acknowledged as he gently lifted his friend over his shoulder. The rest of the senior staff joined the rush out of the conference room. B'Elanna cast a quick concerned glance at her two friends before she hurried off toward Engineering. As she ran toward the turbolift she shivered with the memory of the cold breath upon her face, the iron grip, and the putrid smell. Funny that no one had seemed to notice it but her and perhaps Harry. What could have happened to him? She pulled up short at the turbolift. Drat! Of course it wasn't operable. That meant the Jeffries tubes. As B'Elanna raced toward the Jeffries tube, she continued to try her combadge, hoping that somehow communication would be restored. She was very concerned about the yell she had heard right before the badge went dead. And what could be happening to the ship? She was concentrating so hard on reaching Engineering that she was in the Jeffries tube before she remembered what Ethan Simms had said. She glanced nervously behind her as she proceeded slowly through the passage. She had almost reached her objective when she heard it -- a faint shuffling noise, and a quiet murmur of voices. She froze and her breath caught in her chest. The shuffling was coming closer. ***** In his quarters, security officer Simms grabbed his desk chair as the ship rocked. The lights went out and suddenly he couldn't see. "It's okay," he soothed himself. "It's just some kind of power surge; I'm sure the back-up power will be on in no time." So Ethan waited. And waited. After five minutes he decided that something had happened to the auxiliary controls. He felt a fear creeping over him like something tangible, and an uncontrollable shiver ran through him. "I'm a Federation security officer. I am *not* afraid of the dark," Ethan told himself firmly as he carefully felt around for the back of the chair. Swiveling it around, he sat down carefully. The terror seemed to disappear as soon as he did, and he smiled in satisfaction. *It was just an irrational fear, and that was all,* he thought, reassured. Breathing in deep, he lay his head on the desk pillowed by his hands. By the time he woke up, Lieutenant Torres was sure to have worked another miracle along with her staff and Voyager would be fine. With that comforting thought he drifted off. He didn't know how long he slept, but he did know that he bolted upright when he heard a voice whispering in his ear. "Ethan . . . Ethan . . . ," whispered the ghostly quiet voice. *That sounded just like Janine!* he thought. But that was impossible. She was gone . . . wasn't she? "Janine?" he called hesitantly. There was no answer, but from somewhere in the depths of his quarters, a small light flickered. "That's impossible -- the power's out!" Ethan exclaimed even as the flickering light moved forward closer to him. *Call for backup!* He slapped his combadge, only to meet with a dull static type sound. Communications were being jammed; how or why, he couldn't even begin to fathom. "Ethan, it's me," sounded the feminine voice. "It's me." "No, no, you're gone. Janine Lamont, my fiancee, disappeared two weeks ago," Ethan responded in a wavering voice. "Ethan . . . help me . . . ," Janine's voice pleaded. A sudden shimmer produced an image of the petite blonde woman whom Ethan loved so much. An overpowering smell of rotting flowers fil
led the air just like it had when he'd seen a vision of the long dead Maquis Lon Suder. *I'm dreaming,* he thought. *This is just a dream or a nightmare, most likely.* Ethan backed away. *Maybe I can get to the regulation phaser in my quarters.* "Ethan, don't let me go . . . don't . . ." Janine's voice faded away and the image did the same. His quarters fell into darkness once more. "I have to tell Lieutenant Tuvok," Ethan said aloud, still not quite comprehending what had just occurred. He turned around quickly, not expecting to see anything but darkness, but instead saw standing there Ensign Kaplan, her face half peeling off and one eye falling out. Blood dripped down her face and stained her uniform. Her dark complexion was covered with black burns, nasty looking lacerations adorned the top of her now bare scalp. "AHH!!" screamed Ethan, backing away as fast as he could, scrambling to find something, anything to use against this, this hideous creature standing in front of him. The grotesque looking Kaplan approached him fast, backing him up against the bulkhead. She lifted one hand, shaking wildly. The blood dripped from under her fingernails, now stained a vivid shade of red. "It's just a hallucination, it's not real, it's not real, it's not, it's not," Ethan chanted loud and fast, hoping to convince himself. But when Kaplan's nails dug into his cheek and he felt her still warm blood dripping down his palm, his Fleet training abandoned him and he collapsed dead away. ***** In the Jeffries Tube, B'Elanna tried her combadge, but to no avail. No communications could get through. Her heart pounded wildly, and she tried to retreat, only to hear the movement once more. *On the count of three, I'll turn around. One,* she counted silently. The noise was getting louder, and B'Elanna tensed instinctively. *Two.* She got no further. She felt a cold hand clamp around her upper arm and whirl her around. And then she was staring right at the burnt, bloodied and battered form of Mike Jonas. B'Elanna felt her breath sear through her lungs in sharp gasps. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and felt blood and heat pool at her temples and under her eyelids. *He's . . . it's not really there,* she thought, trying to forget the frozen circle around her arm where whatever-it-was had held her with a frigid grip. *I'll open my eyes, and keep going.* But when she did open her eyes, the unmistakable apparition of Mike Jonas was still in front of her, arm outstretched, eyes pleading. He was illuminated from an unseen source, radiating a hazy glow in the darkened tunnel. B'Elanna's mind raced alongside the punctuated beat of her heart. "What are you?" she asked shakily. Jonas' voice was deep and tortured. "You must help us . . . ." His words reverberated and echoed around her, and then, like a candle extinguished by an errant gust of wind, the translucent body of Mike Jonas dissipated, leaving B'Elanna in stagnant, infinite darkness. Thinking of Harry's paled face, B'Elanna wondered again what he had seen. She could feel her own stomachs churning, and was sure that her Klingon constitution was the only thing that prevented her from becoming equally catatonic at such a horrendous sight. She crawled forward quickly, feeling for the sides of the Jeffries tube. Something damp stuck her uniform to her knee. She ran a hand along her leg and then raised it to her nose. It was blood. ***** Kathryn Janeway looked around the bridge with dismay as the carmine lights of the emergency back-up system came up. She looked with a questioning gaze to Ensign Serand, who had been on the bridge during the power outage, but Serand only stared back blankly, her pupils dilated wide and her mouth fixed in a small, shocked circle. "Serand?" Chakotay asked from behind her. The lanky woman trembled slightly in her reverie, apparently in response to hearing her own name. Still entranced, her jaw moved with forced speech. "They're . . . all back," she rasped. Tuvok wove around them and began scrolling through read-outs at his station. "I am reading no intruders," he announced. "However, we did lose internal sensors during the power loss. Main systems are still inoperable but auxiliary power is stable. Communications, transporters, external sensors still off-line." Janeway rushed forward to support Serand who was swaying. She used an arm to encircle the young woman's waist and guided her into the command chair. "Any theories as to exactly what happened to main power?" she asked. "Not at this time," Tuvok responded. "No sign of attack?" Chakotay asked. "Or spatial -- " his voice merged with a mangled cry. "Chakotay?" Janeway said, concerned. Like Serand -- and Kim before her -- Chakotay merely gazed with an empty countenance at something unseen by anyone but himself. She was sitting -- just like she *belonged* there, had always *been* there, half-reclined, her body draped over his chair. Serand, leaning back next to her, was semi-conscious and apparently oblivious. "Why, Chakotay," she purred. "Don't go mute on me now." He opened her mouth to speak, but his dry lips stuck together. "Don't be so shocked," Seska hissed. "It's time that Voyager stopped mourning the ghosts they think they left behind, and started worrying about the ones they carry with them." Chakotay could hear Kathryn calling, but her voice sounded muffled, as if it were dampened by distance. Seska's body flickered for an instant and he realized that she wasn't entirely there. She looked around and her eyes narrowed. "Do you hear it, Chakotay?" she asked, now with a pained voice. "Do you hear the baby crying?" Then she was gone, and he was left staring at the abandoned chair. Kathryn was calling again. But closer than her voice, he could hear plaintive small cries. "That is not my son!" he shouted. ***** Seven of Nine's eyes snapped open with an inhuman quickness as the red alert Klaxon sounded in the former cargo bay that housed her Borg alcove. She woke from the trance-like state of regeneration, not into the familiar greenish light of the converted cargo bay, but into pitch blackness. Stepping down from her alcove, she made her way to the door leading to the corridor by memory. As she neared the door she could hear a person screaming in a way that even her limited experience caused her to believe the owner of the voice was in extreme pain. She increased her pace in order to lend whatever assistance she might to whichever member of her new 'group' required it. In the dark she never noticed that the door failed to open until she felt the impact as she walked blindly into it. Pain was still a new sensation to her, and it momentarily shocked her as to just how much an accident of this type could hurt. As she felt her way along the door casing for the manual release, she felt something warm and wet dripping down her upper lip, and realized that she must be bleeding from her nose. As her hand closed on the release switch and the door slowly ground open, the screaming stopped. Making her way out of the bay into the corridor she found Susan Nicoletti plastered against the bulkhead, her eyes wide and staring, her mouth open as though trying to catch her breath. Coming closer, Seven noticed that the cords in Nicoletti's throat were stretched taut. *She isn't trying to breathe,* she realized. *She is still screaming.* "What is the matter?" she asked the terrified ensign. "Why is there a red alert?" There was no response; Nicoletti didn't even acknowledge the former Borg's existence, she just continued to stare down the corridor and silently scream. "What is the matter?" Seven tried again, this time reaching a hand up to grab Susan by her chin and twist her head around to face her. "What is causing you such distress?" In answer Sue lifted her arm, and pointed down the corridor, toward Main Engineering. Turning her head to look, Seven saw the figure of another crewmember, this one limned in a strange pale glow, and with eyes the darkest black she had ever encountered. The figure was slowly making its way toward them, seeming to glide over the deck more than walk. As Seven looked closer, she saw horrible burns covering the side of the figure's face, and wondered at the tolerance for the pain it must be causing to still stand. Releasing Nicoletti, she turned and walked toward the injured crewman, whom she still didn't recognize. She was brought up short by Nicoletti's hand grabbing her elbow and pulling her back. "No!" Sue screamed, finally shaken out of her fright by Seven's actions. "Don't go near him! He-he-he can't be here! IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!" "Why is it not possible for him to be here?" Seven asked, attempting to free herself from the frantic engineer's grasp. Then, as the figure approached, a sickly sweet odor washed over her, driving the coppery smell of her own blood from her nostrils. "What is that odor?" "He can't be here!" Nicoletti repeated, dragging the larger woman around to face her with terrified strength. "Do
n't you understand?! HE'S DEAD! THAT'S LON SUDER, AND HE'S DEAD!!" Not believing what she was hearing, Seven of Nine turned back to the corridor, only to find it empty. There was no trace of the figure Nicoletti had named "Lon Suder" except for the sickly sweet smell which was growing fainter. *This is not possible. He could not have gotten past us, nor could he have gone back the way he came in the short period of time I was not watching him,* Seven thought to herself. She suddenly became aware of the warm wetness still flowing over her lips. "I must have this tended to," she said to Susan. "Come with me to Sickbay. You should also be examined for injury." Taking hold of the engineer's arm she dragged her down the corridor toward the turbolift. As they neared the door to Main Engineering, a Jeffries tube access hatch opened and B'Elanna Torres crawled out, just as the lights were restored. Exiting the tube with a sigh of relief, B'Elanna noted the standard lights had come on, and she could hear the turbolift start up again. *Sure,* she thought standing and shaking herself. *After I crawl through from the bridge and meet a ghost, the power comes back on!* She looked down at her leg and was shocked to note that the blood there was the bright scarlet of human blood, not the deeper crimson shade of her own. Hearing someone approach, she swung around, her right hand flying at neck height, fingers clawed to rip and tear. She barely stopped the blow when she saw that it was Seven of Nine. "What are you doing out here?" she snarled, embarrassed at being seen in such a frazzled state. "Shouldn't you still be 'sleeping' or whatever it is you call it?" Seven looked curiously at B'Elanna's hand, stopped less than a centimeter from right collarbone. "Lieutenant, I must inform you that though it would have been painful, your blow would not have caused me serious injury. Do you still intend to strike me?" Chagrined, B'Elanna dropped her hand to her side. "I asked you a question!" she growled. "What are you doing out of your alcove?" Noticing the blood covering Seven's mouth and chin she continued, "And what happened to your nose? It looks broken!" Reaching up to touch her nose, Seven jerked her hand away with a wince. "If the pain I feel when I touch it is any indication, I believe you are correct in your assumption. To answer your first question, I was originally awakened by the red alert. I woke to find myself in complete darkness, and without my implants I could not see. I heard screaming from the corridor and made my way to the door. When it did not open, I ran into it. Is that the correct terminology? That is how I injured myself." B'Elanna stared incredulously up at the face of her erstwhile subordinate. "And why was Nicoletti -- I assume it was you, Susan -- screaming?" "I am uncertain of the cause, Lieutenant. When I found her in the corridor, she was staring in this direction. When I turned to look, a crewman was coming toward us. He appeared to have been burned by plasma. I did not recognize him, though Ensign Nicoletti identified him as -- " "SUDER!" Sue Nicoletti screamed. "IT WAS LON SUDER! HE'S COME BACK TO GET THE REST OF US!" "Sue! Calm down!" B'Elanna ordered, shaken at the fear in her friend's voice as much as the words she had screamed. "There's no one here now. He can't get you." "NO! HE'LL GET US! WE HAVE TO -- " Sue was cut off by the sharp crack of B'Elanna's palm contacting her cheek. "That's enough! Get a grip on yourself!" B'Elanna said, moving so she was all Nicoletti could see. "I want you to calm down and get yourself to Sickbay. That's an order! You, Seven, get her to Sickbay, and yourself too! I have to see what's going on in Engineering. Wait a minute! You say you saw him -- it -- whatever it was -- too?" "Yes, Lieutenant," Seven said. "I saw what appeared to be a crewman coming toward us down the hall." "Then why aren't you hysterical too?" B'Elanna started to ask. "No wait, I can guess. 'Fear is irrelevant,' right?" "No, Lieutenant," Seven said in her monotone as she began moving off toward the lift. "Though I felt no fear, in this case the effect it has had on Nicoletti makes fear quite relevant. And Lieutenant, be aware that it was from Engineering that the being I saw entered the corridor," she finished, stepping into the lift, still towing Sue Nicoletti behind her. "Terrific," B'Elanna muttered under her breath, as she headed into Engineering. "My engine room is haunted. Just terrific." ***** *Chakotay?* He could hear it. Such urgency. Captain Janeway, trying to get to him. There was a flash, a glimmer in his peripheral vision. And an odor -- overripe blossoms. Something was very wrong. "Wha -- " he began, and was cut off as the universe around him seemed to shiver. The bridge seemed to spin, and for a moment he had the sensation of looking beyond the walls and panels. He saw circuitry, insulation, the glow of gel packs. Was he hallucinating? Kathryn, she had been standing right in front of him, touching him. The new perception seemed blur her image as he was overwhelmed by his vision. *Chakotay!* She was worried, he could tell from her voice, but it all seemed to be dulled as if he were standing in a long tunnel, looking at the disproportionate splinter of light in the distance. Then, suddenly and very close, the baby was crying again. He felt light breathing in his ear. "You're through." He whirled around. Seska. "What the hell is going on?" She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not sure. Although, 'what the hell' would certainly seem to be applicable. It seems you've joined us." "Us? Where -- what is this?" "The Happy Hunting Grounds?" she suggested. "Or whatever. Another level, maybe. A different dimension. Now that you're here it probably doesn't matter. This is where Voyager stores her lost souls. You're where you belong now." She held out the baby, held it closer to him. "With us. It doesn't matter whose he is -- you made this child yours when you came after him. And I do know for certain that you wouldn't have crossed through if there wasn't some connection, something spiritual." "Whatever game this is," Chakotay responded coldly, "end it. Now. That is not my son. Maj Cullah took your child with him when he left Voyager for the last time." "No more games, Chakotay," she replied evenly. "How far did you plan to travel to escape your past? You can't, though you try. I've seen you -- sitting, meditating, dreaming. I've been watching. And I still bother you." "You betrayed me," Chakotay said. "You *stole* my DNA. You put the people I care about through pain. Yes, that bothers me." Seska laughed, a malicious, haughty cackle. "Don't be foolish. Betrayal doesn't nullify love. This is your baby because I *want* it to be -- because it should have been, and very well might have been." "What you want has never quite been enough to change the facts. Haven't you learned that by now? Give it up. Send me back." "That's where you're wrong," Seska murmured. "In this state of existence, what I want and feel is all that matters. If I could have brought you through voluntarily, I would have done it long ago. But I didn't bring you here and I have no way of sending you back." "Then I guess I'll have to find one myself," he shot out. "Happy hunting." ***** Kathryn couldn't distinguish between the instant when Chakotay had been standing, immobilized, right before her and then abruptly vanished. She turned to Tuvok. "What happened?" The Vulcan's brow knit in a slight, uncommon expression of frustration. "Internal sensors are not fully restored. I'm reading several localized distortion fields in subspace. It would appear that Commander Chakotay has been caught in one such field." "Why didn't we read these distortions before?" she demanded. "It is possible that the distortions foiled our main sensors," he said. Kathryn could tell Tuvok was distressed -- he was blaming himself. "The surrounding nebula has limited our sensor capabilities. However, there was no indication that such anomalies are common in this region of space." She was the one who should have expected something like this, especially after Kes had cast them ten light years forward in their journey. And right next to a nebula. She had come to hate nebulae -- they could be enchantingly beautiful, but even in the Delta Quadrant looks were deceptive. She had come to the point of expecting a catastrophe with every new nebula they traversed. Many races that they had encountered considered Voyager to be a cursed ship -- and Kathryn couldn't help but wonder as to why they couldn't move a light year without encountering some problem. Her mind spun endlessly -- Chakotay was gone, every major system was down, they hadn't detected these distortions until they were literally right on top of them. She went into crisis mode and let her Starfleet experience kick in. Composure. Calm. Direction. "Do we have communications back yet?" she asked. "No," said Ensign Lang. "I'm still attem
pting to divert power from non-essential systems, but some of the power routers are off-line." "Keep at it. Tuvok, try to pinpoint the precise locations of any other distortion fields in Voyager's vicinity. I want to get all crewmembers as far away from these disruptions as possible before we try to find Chakotay. You and Mr. Paris will evacuate any affected decks -- " "Captain," Tuvok interrupted. "Such a course of action may be far more difficult than you realize. I am detecting at least eight similar distortion fields within Voyager, and they appear to be in motion." Of course, Fleet training didn't always hold up to everything. "So, we're working on the luck of the draw," she muttered. "'Luck of the draw' would be a precise if rather colloquial way -- " Tuvok stopped, as there was a whir and a hum. All over the bridge monitors beeped as off-line systems powered up. The Klaxon resumed its whine. "Captain," said Lang, "the main power grid is coming back on-line." *Thank heavens,* she thought. "The distortion fields are closing," said Tuvok passively. *Or not!* "Tuvok -- " "Wildman to the captain! She's gone! Naomi is gone!" "Tuvok! Get a lock on one of those distortions! Keep it open!" "I'm sorry, Captain, the distortions have dissipated." ***** An hour later, the senior staff, including a still-shaky Ensign Kim, Ethan Simms and Seven of Nine, gathered in the conference room to turn in grim and fantastic reports. Order of a sort had been restored; the crew was uneasy but functioning. Janeway had commanded that Voyager retrace its path through the nebula exactly, matching speed and course, in the hopes of recovering Hamilton, Chakotay, Naomi, and maybe even Ensign Lamont. Nothing had happened. The distortions fields had not rematerialized. Neither had the ghosts. "Doctor, report," Janeway said. "I've treated 23 crewmembers in the last two hours for shock or minor injuries they sustained because of their own panic. Three remain in my care under sedation: Lieutenant Nicoletti, Ensign Serand, and of course, Ensign Wildman. Ensign Vorik and Lieutenant Carey remain as well. Vorik sustained a concussion when he was accidentally pushed off the upper deck in Engineering. I'm afraid the shock of seeing Ensign Hogan was too much for Ensign Delaney. Ensign Vorik did not get out of the way fast enough. Good thing he didn't land in the warp core, that would have been a little harder to fix. Vorik, that is, not the core. Lieutenant Carey's problem is that he could not get out of the way of Ensign Vorik fast enough. He was also knocked unconscious when Ensign Vorik fell on *him*. Fortunately, neither sustained any injuries other than concussions. Both will remain under observation for the time being." "Thank you, Doctor," said the captain. "Good work. Anything else?" "I ran a test on the blood on Lieutenant Torres' uniform. It is definitely Ensign Lamont's." "You didn't see her, B'Elanna?" No," said B'Elanna shortly. "Only Michael Jonas." "Do you think Lamont might have been the being whose presence you encountered here in the conference room?" "No, I think I put my knee down in it in the tube." "Tuvok?" "Systems appear to be functioning within normal parameters. At this point, I can offer no explanation as to what may have happened to cause the distortion fields to open or where they may lead to, if anywhere. Or how to reopen one, or how to maintain one once found." "Can anyone offer any other explanation? Any ideas? Anything? No indication of alien intruders, Tuvok, perhaps from another dimension? No detection of any psychotropic trauma? Are we hallucinating due to some alien virus?" "There is no evidence to suggest any of those things, Captain." Is some technologically advanced race experimenting on us?" "Who would do such a thing?" asked Neelix. "Anyone seen Q around?" asked Tom. Janeway gave him a thoughtful look, stood, circled her chair, and rested her arms against the back of it, almost like a preacher at a pulpit. "That thought had also occurred to me, I must admit, but I don't think Q is behind this. He prefers to be a player in the games he creates, not a spectator. And bizarre though he is, he has always had a point in his antics -- something positive he wished humans to learn. No, I think we can rule Q out. Seven, could this be some sort of Borg technology?" "Fear is irrelevant, Captain. The Borg merely assimilate. They do not terrorize." B'Elanna snorted. "Tell that to all the innocent people they've destroyed." "B'Elanna, enough. I know we're all on edge here, but that doesn't help. Tuvok, let's get back to these distortions. Could they be a door into another timeline, an alternate universe? This nebula. It's massive; by far the largest on any Starfleet record. Does it have anything in common with the nebula that caused us to be duplicated?" Tuvok looked thoughtful. "I would have to say at this point in time that is the best theory we have. However, we have detected no chroniton particles, no tachyon emissions, nothing that we can monitor or manipulate." "Maybe Halloween is just coming early this year," said Tom. "Mr. Paris," Tuvok retorted, "I fail to see -- " Janeway heaved a sigh and turned away. Tuvok took the cue and shut up. They all sat silent for a minute, trying to absorb the enormity of the situation, to grasp the depth of their loss. Janeway slowly paced in front of the windows framing the eerily beautiful nebula beyond, which now surrounded them for many light-years in all directions. *I knew I should have gone around you,* she said to it. *Three week delay or not. One more lesson in listening to my gut instinct and not the recommendations of Stellar Cartography.* She turned back to the discussion at hand. Tuvok and Paris sat glaring at each other. "You must realize, Tuvok, on our world there is an enormous wealth of folklore that has to do with spirits and the afterlife. Tales and traditions that go back hundreds of years. Thousands. About how -- " She stopped mid-sentence, then started again slowly. "About how at certain times of the year, the boundaries between the physical world and the next are indistinct, and that those with unfinished business could return and communicate with the living." "A common and ancient theme in many cultures on many worlds," conceded Tuvok. "Almost always to do with planetary rotations shifting toward a dormant part of the hemisphere's seasons, caused by the imprecise configurations of elliptical orbits around a far superior gravimetric object such as a sun." "Geez, Tuvok," said Tom. "I bet Halloween is tons of fun on Vulcan. What do you do? Go door to door and spout off lectures on astrophysics if they won't give you any candy?" Janeway put a stop to it, for good this time. "Gentlemen, enough. Let's go over it again from the beginning, this time with as many details as possible. Harry, I know this must be hard for you. You said you saw yourself." "Yes, Captain. I . . . I was dead, I must have been. All the blood vessels in my face had burst, as if I had died of space exposure. I -- he -- the other Harry was trying to say something. I heard Ensign Lamont calling, asking for help. The other Harry heard her too, and turned away." "Seven, you and Lieutenant Nicoletti saw Lon Suder?" "Yes, Captain. The lieutenant was incapacitated with fear. I was unaffected." "Simms, you saw Janine and Lieutenant Kaplan?" "Yes. Janine spoke to me. Kaplan tried to hurt me, or so I thought at the time. As you can see, I am completely unharmed. I must have just imagined the blood." "So, none of our . . . guests . . . has actually done violence to any of us." "Captain," continued Simms. "I think I may know of a connection. Janine has seen ghosts. Back on Earth, I mean. She told me about it once in Sandrine's when we were talking about, well, about Commander Chakotay and his visions. I thought she was just trying to see if she could creep me out. Hamilton heard her talking about it and told a couple of stories of his own. Mik and I ribbed them pretty good -- like I said, we thought they were trying to do a number on us. They didn't think it was funny, and they certainly stuck to their stories." Janeway glanced around the room. "Has any one else had experience with this sort of thing?" There was a long silence, then Tom said softly, "Yeah. Me." ***** "Ghosts," said Torres softly. "It's too fantastic. I can't believe the captain is even considering the possibility we have ghosts." Tom chuckled. "You make it sound like we have fleas, or something." "Surely you don't believe it?" "I don't know what to believe." He leaned back on the couch and held her a little closer, kissing her hair. "But when it means the captain orders all hands to stay in close contact with another crewman, I'll take it." She refused to be baited. "Well, I don't believe it. There are no such things as ghosts," she said, fiddling with the phase shift discriminator he now wore on his upper arm. "Ah, Horatio, there are more things in Heaven an
d Earth than you will ever dream about." She twisted in his lap and looked up at him. Even though she claimed denial, they were both jumpy and sitting entwined on the sofa in her quarters just seemed like the natural thing to do. "What are you talking about? You can't really believe we're being haunted." "You saw Jonas, didn't you? "I saw an apparition that I maybe mistook for Jonas. I still think we're under an alien influence. Hallucinations. It's happened before. Remember the creep who caused the visions?" "Yes, I remember." He looked thoughtful and casually toyed with the *jinaq* she wore around her neck. She knew he was thinking about his father. He knew she was more stressed than she was letting on. Before nearly dying on the Day of Honor she had never worn her *jinaq,* a gift from a Klingon friend. Since then he had noticed she sometimes wore it off-duty when she was upset about something. "Tom, tell me about it. About when you saw . . . something. The captain didn't ask for details, but I want to know." "I will sometime, I promise, but not now. Not with everything so . . . close. 'Lanna, I want you to promise me something too. Promise me that if something ever happens to me you won't wall yourself away again. Promise me that you'll find someone else to love." "Hmph. 'Love -- a grave mental disease.'" "What?" he chuckled again. "Well, if you can quote -- or should I say *mis*quote -- Shakespeare, then I can quote Plato." He turned her face to his. "Is that how you really feel about it?" "Why don't you let me show you how I really feel about it?" She kissed him tenderly, then again a little less tenderly, but broke it off a moment later. "Well, now is not the time for heavy objects." She paused. "You still haven't said it, you know." "I know. I -- " He stopped, squeezing the *jinaq* tight in his hand. "What?" "Shh!" "What?!" He slowly and carefully looked around the small room. "Something's . . . coming." "What!?" B'Elanna felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. "Tom, stop it. This is no time -- " "Shh! Can't you hear that?" he paused, listening. Then, with a small tired sound, the lights failed as once again the power went off- line. "It's coming!" he yelled. "Get up! Get Up! You have to get out of here!" He lurched to his feet, nearing dumping her onto the floor. Obviously he'd forgotten the sky-blue jewel he held in his hand; she felt the delicate latinum chain break. She scrambled up, seeing a flickering light out of the corner of her eye. Well whatever it was, if it wanted him, it would have to go through her to get him. The dim emergency lights came on. He stood staring, mesmerized by something she could not see. "It . . . it's you," he said softly. B'Elanna felt a terror such as she had never known. Not of *it,* whatever *it* was, but that it would take him, that she would lose him. Her fear was replaced by rage. Great Conquering Kahless! She'd just found him! He whirled about. "I can't -- They want -- " He began to glow with an eerie blue glow. "NO!" she screamed. "I love you!" he shouted, and then he was gone, the *jinaq* still in his hand. "TOM! NO!" B'Elanna screamed, charging at the last place he had stood. "Take me with you! Don't you dare leave me alone, not now!" As her arms closed on thin air, she realized that he was gone. A pain ran through her as though she had been stabbed through the heart by a *qutluch.* He was gone, taken from her by some unknown force. Her pain changed, flashing again to white hot rage as she cursed whatever it was that had torn Tom from her. She screamed again, a long wordless cry, all her pain, all her anguish and anger contained in that one cry. As she ran out of breath she felt a little more calm. B'Elanna drew in a long shuddering breath and tapped her combadge. For a change, it worked, activating with a chirp. "Torres to Kim. Harry, did you detect any anomalies in my cabin a moment ago?" Her voice sounded hoarse and raspy to herself, but at least she was able to formulate coherent sentences. She knew that the blind fury she had felt a moment ago would only hinder her in trying to get Tom back. And she would get him back. No one and nothing was going to stop that. "No, B'Elanna. The sensors haven't shown anything out of the ordinary." Harry's voice hesitated. "Why? Did something happen to you?" B'Elanna's voice caught in her throat as she replied, "No, not to me. But whatever is snatching the crew, it's got Tom. I . . . I -- " she stopped, unable to continue. She refused to break down on an open comline. "That's it!" came Kathryn Janeway's voice through the comlink. "I've had about enough of this! All stop! This ship isn't moving another inch until I get some answers and my crew back!" The comline closed with a sharp click as the rising sound of the general intercom sounded. "Captain Janeway to all hands. I have just ordered Voyager to hold position where she is until we get some answers about what is happening to our crew. All crewmembers are to stay within sight of another crewman at all times. Sleep in rotations -- I want at least one person awake in each group. Any strange sights or sounds are to be immediately reported to Security. If you don't know what it is, call it in. All senior staff will meet in the conference room in ten minutes." The channel closed again with a sharp click, as though the captain had slammed her hand down on the control. B'Elanna winced. If the captain were hitting the controls that hard, she was well and truly upset and it would be up to her Engineering department and Harry's Operations and Sciences teams to come up with answers. She grabbed a tricorder from her engineering kit and made a preliminary scan of her quarters. Straightening her uniform, she took one last, longing look at where Tom had been and headed for the conference room. ***** When B'Elanna entered the conference lounge, she was shocked at how empty it seemed. She found herself staring at the chair next to hers, wishing that the usual occupant would just rematerialize and hold her. *Great Kahless, I can't believe how empty I feel! He's only been gone for a few minutes, and I already feel as though a part of me has died,* she thought, sitting down. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder and Harry Kim's voice in her ear. "We'll get him back, B'Elanna," Harry said as she looked up at him. "We'll get them *all* back." With a jerk of his head, he indicated the captain. B'Elanna looked to the end of the table and realized that the captain was staring at the other empty chair in much the same way she had been staring at Tom's. Then she remembered Ethan Simms, and realized that she was neither the first nor the only member of the crew to lose the one they loved to this . . . this whatever it was. Her thoughts were interrupted as Tuvok, Seven of Nine, and the doctor entered the room followed closely by Neelix. Everyone except Seven took seats around the table, and the captain opened the meeting. "All right. We all know that crewmembers are disappearing. What I want to know is how and why. Once we know that, we can come up with a way to get them back. And make no mistake people, I intend to get them all back. Doctor, have you come up with anything?" The doctor looked up with a pained expression on his face. "No, Captain. I can detect no pattern to the disappearances. The best theory so far is still that put forth earlier, about crewmembers having previously seen ghosts." "Doctor, that theory does not explain the disappearances of either Ensign Wildman's daughter or Commander Chakotay," Tuvok interjected. "I disagree," the doctor insisted. "Commander Chakotay commonly visits a 'spirit guide' and speaks to his dead father. That is close enough to being a 'ghost' for my program. As for Lieutenant Wildman's daughter, I can only speculate that at such a young age, Naomi has not yet learned to disbelieve in ghosts." "Doctor, are you saying that the determining factor in whether a crewman is taken is their belief in ghosts?" B'Elanna asked. "Not the determining factor, but one of them, yes." "I don't believe it." "Which is perhaps why you are still here, Lieutenant," Tuvok said. "You have encountered one of these 'ghosts,' and been in the room when Lieutenant Paris was 'taken.' Yet you remain. I believe asking why that is so may help us to fathom this problem. Please tell us what happened in your quarters when Lieutenant Paris disappeared." B'Elanna told them about the discussion she and Tom had been having and about Tom's odd reaction just before he vanished. Harry, the captain and Tuvok began immediately speculating on whom Tom had seen, and what they "wanted" from him. While the argument went on, B'Elanna quickly examined the scan data in her tricorder. As she came to the end of the readouts, a faint glimmer of hope appeared on her face. "Captain! I think I may have come up with a way to track Tom!" she nearly yelled. "How?" "My *jinaq.* He had
it in his hand when he vanished." "And? How is that going to -- Wait a minute, that's the necklace that K'Fin gave you?" "Yes, the one that has gone through a time-space wormhole. The scans I ran in my quarters after Tom vanished show traces of chroniton radiation. The *jinaq* never showed it before he vanished, but now whatever happened seems to have excited the residual particles into activity." "And you think we can track the chroniton traces? It's worth a try. Mr. Kim, get someone down to B'Elanna's quarters with a tricorder calibrated for chroniton tracking, and tie it into the main computer." She paused, and Seven of Nine spoke. "Captain, I know nothing of 'ghosts' but Borg technology is capable of forcing open corridors in time. Perhaps this might help us to track and retrieve the missing crew." Noticing that Seven of Nine was still standing against the wall, Captain Janeway replied, "Seven, please sit down. At a meeting such as this, all crewmembers sit around the table. Start coordinating with Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim on any modifications that may help us." "Yes, Captain," Harry responded. "I'll have Lang get down there immediately." "Have Ensign Simms accompany her, Mr. Kim," Tuvok put in. "Aye, sir." Seven moved to the table and sat in the chair nearest her. As she did so, B'Elanna's head snapped to her, and her eyes narrowed in rage. Her lips thinned as they drew back in a snarl. *How dare that Borg sit in Tom's chair?!* she thought, preparing to snap at her. Neelix noticed B'Elanna's distress and reached over, patting the back of her hand. B'Elanna turned to stare at him, then nodded and took a deep breath. Shuddering, she let it out and whispered her thanks to the Talaxian. "Seven," the captain said, covering the awkward moment she had just witnessed, "have you any knowledge of phenomena similar to this? Did the Borg Collective ever encounter this sort of a problem?" "No, Captain. The Borg never encountered this." She hesitated, then continued. "Various species that were assimilated did, but once they became part of the Collective, the events never occurred again." "That would tend to lend credence to the doctor's theory, Captain. The Borg, by their nature, would be unable to believe in ghosts. They would therefore be immune to this effect," Tuvok observed. The captain, the doctor, and Tuvok began speculating on the difference between the Borg drones and Seven, and why Seven could see the ghosts. While they carried on their discussion at one end of the table, Harry, Seven, and B'Elanna began working on possible modifications to the ship's sensors. They had been working for perhaps five minutes when the excited voice of Ethan Simms came over the intercom. "Captain, it's happened again! Lang had just started getting chroniton trace readings from Lieutenant Torres' cabin when she vanished! She just started glowing blue, then vanished!" The officers gathered looked at each other in shock, and Tuvok finally spoke. "Ensign, report to the conference room, immediately." ***** "I love you!" His words echoed in his ears as Tom Paris lost sight of B'Elanna and Voyager. "She can't hear you any more, Tom. I'm sorry," came the soft voice from behind him. "No, she can't, but I can!" came another voice. It was familiar to him, and was one he had thought he would never hear again. Filled with disbelief, Tom slowly turned and came face to face with the two figures he had sensed before he was pulled away from B'Elanna to here, wherever "here" was. He closed his eyes, and shook his head, not believing what he saw. "That won't help, Tom. You're on this side now, and as hard as it is to believe, we're real," the image of Pete Durst said. "Open your eyes, Thomas! How can you expect me -- her -- to love you if you can't look at me?" Tom's eyes snapped open and flew to the one who had spoken. There before him stood B'Elanna. The fully Klingon B'Elanna, who had died while separated from her human half. "I -- This is quite a shock," Tom managed to say. "I expected to see you, Pete. But I never thought that B'Elanna, that is you . . . that is . . . I mean . . . " he trailed off, staring in helpless confusion. "We know what you mean. But Tom, we're here because of you," Pete Durst said. "I am, at least." "What do you mean, because of me?" "I'm here because you and I have some unfinished business. You keep me here. You keep dragging me into your nightmares and I want you to let me go." "What? My nightmares keep you here?" "Yes. You refuse to forgive yourself for my death, and keep calling me back in order to punish yourself. I want you to stop it. I don't blame you, you did all you could. Believe it or not, I'm happy for you. I'm glad you and Lieutenant Torres finally got your feelings for each other straightened out." "As am I. She was destroying what little honor I -- she -- we had by continually hiding from you," the Klingon B'Elanna added. Durst glanced sideways at her. "Do us a favor will you, and stick with one pronoun? As confusing as it is to me, who's been with you since you died, it must really lose Tom. Anyway, I need you to know that I never held my death against you. It wasn't your responsibility." Tom stared, bemused from one to the other. "Fine. Let's say I agree, and give you what you want. Will that send me back?" he asked hopefully. They both shook their heads. "No, I'm afraid not," Durst responded. Just then a blue glow appeared beside Tom. "Looks like someone else is coming through." Tom moved to stand next to B'Elanna . . . the Klingon (he couldn't figure out what to call her), and watched in fascination as the glow intensified and Ensign Lang appeared. If he hadn't known how serious the situation was, Tom would have laughed at the expression on her face as she saw him and his two companions. "Hello, Lang. Welcome to . . . wherever we are. How goes things back home?" he asked, deadpan. "What the -- ? Lieutenant Paris? It worked! I tracked you! The chronitons in the necklace are traceable! But now I can't tell anyone!" Lang nearly shouted. "What?" Tom asked in confusion. "The necklace. It's traceable. Captain Janeway asked me to track it, but now . . . " Ensign Lang said, with a little anger in her voice. Tom sighed. "Great," he muttered under his breath. "Now what do we do?" Ensign Lang asked. "Just hope someone will stick with it," Tom said. "Who is this person?" Ensign Durst asked, confused. "Why is she here?" Lang looked around and saw Ensign Durst and the Klingon. "Lieutenant," she whispered, "who are these people?" "It's a long story," Tom said, and proceeded to explain. Her eyes grew wide when he told her. "You mean we'll never be able to get out?" "I don't know," Tom admitted. She looked over at the Klingon B'Elanna. "Great." "And back to what you guys are doing," Tom said, "How did *you* get sent down here?" "No clue," Lang said, and sighed. "Maybe if the rift opens again we can travel back through it." "I wouldn't advise that," came a soft voice. "Janine!" cried Lang, clasping her lost friend in a fierce hug. "I was afraid I would never see you again! Are you all right?" "I'm . . . okay. I tried to come back but I couldn't -- something stopped me. I got knocked down and I whacked my head. It was bleeding all over the place, but when I got back here it simply stopped. Realm of the Dead and all that, I guess," she said, trying to smile. "I know it's horrible, but I'm so glad you're here!" She blinked through her tears. "How's Ethan? I've felt him -- he's been so close. I almost got through to him. I know I did." "He's fine," said Tom. "He misses you. Now, let's come up with a plan to get back. All of us." ***** B'Elanna sighed in frustration. First Tom had gone, then Ensign Lang. Carey, Vorik, and Nicolleti were all in Sickbay, so now she was stuck working with Seven. *Could this day possibly get any worse?* she thought in exasperation. "Lieutenant Torres," Seven interrupted her thoughts. "I believe I have something." "Let me see it," B'Elanna said, and snatched the padd away from her. *Chronitons are off the chart,* she noted, and touched her combadge. "Torres to Janeway. I think we have something." ***** "So we did find something," Captain Janeway concluded. "Yes, Captain. He's in some kind of alternate dimension, but how to get there is another story." ***** Tom and Lang sat thinking. Thinking about how they got there. Thinking about how they were going to get back. Just thinking. Then Tom straightened up. "Ensign, what exactly were you doing right before you got transported here?" "I was scanning for the chronitons, like I've told you," she said, slightly irritated. Then her face got softer. "Sorry, Lieutentant, I just -- " "It's all right." She smiled at him. "Thanks." "I wish my father could see me here," Tom muttered under his breath. "I haven't killed anyone yet." Suddenly, a deafening noise occured, and a blob appeared. Stepping out of it was his father. "Hello Thomas," he said coolly. "Dad!" Tom sai
d, almost shouting. "What are you doing here?" "You tell me," he said. "I mean, I wished you here, and . . . " Tom's voice trailed off. "Ever since you've been a lieutentant on Voyager, you've wanted me to see you. To see how well you've brought yourself up. You can't deny it." "I'm not going to deny it, Dad." Tom said just as coolly. "So, are you going to give me another lecture?" "No, Tom. For once, I'm not going to." "Good, 'cause I'm really not in the mood. I'm trapped in here with a dead Klingon, a dead ensign, and my dad, some of my worst nightmares, and . . . " Tom's voice trailed off. "Oh my God! I'm here because this is what I wanted! I wanted someone to tell me Durst's death wasn't my fault, I wanted to see B'Elanna's Klingon side, and I wanted you to see how well I'm doing now! This is all the stuff I desire! Could all of this somehow be centered on me?" Tom wondered aloud. "Don't flatter yourself," came a familiar voice. Tom whirled to face the direction of the sound. "Stadi?" he whispered, amazed. He honestly hadn't thought of her since she had died. He searched for something to say. "You haven't changed a bit," he shot back, noting the cuts on her face that still looked as fresh as they did the day she got them. "Neither have you, I see. Wait, are those lieutenant pips I see on your collar?" she asked, obvously impressed. "I guess you did change. I suppose you took my place?" "Yes." "I'll rest in peace knowing the ship is in good hands," she said quietly. Tom knew how hard it was for a pilot to let someone else have her ship. Not that she had a choice. "Thanks, Stadi, that means a lot to me." Both of them paused awkwardly. "Well, now that this little reunion is over, shall we get back to the important things? Like why we're all here and how we can get back to our respective graves?" Tom turned in shock when he heard his father. "You aren't dead, are you Dad?" "Let's just say it's going to be a little harder for me to bother you for awhile, at least until you join me." Tom felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. He and his father had had their differences, of course, but he had never thought of the admiral actually dying. It was more than a little disturbing, and what was even more disturbing was that he was speaking with his father after the fact. He looked around the -- wherever they were -- and saw all the people that Voyager had lost. They were in various stages of injury, ranging from burns, to knife wounds, to much worse. Durst's faceless eyes were staring right at him, and what was that coming toward him? It had no arms, one ear, and his stomach was . . . . *Oh my god, that's Hogan.* Tom nearly threw up. He was shaking so badly he could hardly stand. He saw more of the lost crew, blood running down their faces, nearly severed limbs at their sides. He was about to faint when he felt a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. Tom turned to look at the person, expecting it to be Stadi or even Klingon B'Elanna. When he saw who it was, he buried his face in his shoulder and tried to hold back the shaking and the sobs. "It's okay, Tom. Let it go." Admiral Paris held his son for a long time. Stadi just smiled. ***** Chakotay wached the scene between Tom and his father from a distance. He knew he would have to let Tom know he was here, but for now he just let him be held by the one person in Tom's life who needed to hold him the most. When Tom's shaking had subsided, he walked over to him. "Tom, can you work now?" "Chakotay! I forgot you disappeared too. Yes, Commander, I'm fine." Chakotay could see the obvous struggle that was going on inside the pilot to keep control of himself. He almost said something about it, but decided to wait. "If we could only find some way of letting the outside world know where we are." An idea was beginning to form in Tom's head. "Stadi, have you retained your telepathic skills?" "Of course. Actually, all of us have the ability now that we are no longer confined by bodies, but it is easier for me with my Betazoid training. I haven't been able to contact anyone in your universe, however. The barrier between is too strong." Ensign Lang spoke up. "We think that the barrier has somehow been weakened by the area of space we passed through. Do you think it could be enough to get a message to someone on Voyager?" Stadi thought for a moment. "Well, it's certainly worth a try." "Wouldn't it work better if there were more than one person trying to make the connection?" Klingon B'Elanna asked. "Stadi," Tom asked, "could you channel a thought of mine to someone? You said yourself that all of us have telepathic capabilities now. Could you help me send a message to B'Elanna?" "Why B'Elanna?" Durst asked. "Both Ensign Lang and I came here from her quarters. The barrier might be weaker there. And, well, I know she's worried." "It just might work! Chakotay, could you help as well?" "Of course." "Now, all of you take my hands . . . . " ***** B'Elanna tossed herself on the bed after another fruitless search. After they had somehow lost the signal of the *jinaq* when Ensign Lang had been lost, the captain had decided to move Voyager to what seemed to be a more stable part of the nebula. She tried to keep her hopes up, telling herself that this was just another mess that they would pull out of in the nick of time, but she was beginning to doubt that. She took the pink stuffed pig she had given him in her hands. *It even smells like him.* Somehow being so close to something that he had touched made the pain of losing him easier to bear. She thought about what life would be like without him -- the silence and decorum on the bridge, the meals without anyone making wry comments about the contents of the food. Never having a future with him. *Thomas Eugene Paris, there is no way in hell that I'm going to let you get away from me that easily,* she thought as she drifted to sleep. Her dreams weren't anymore restful than her day. She heard so many voices, calling to her, screaming at her -- *B'Elanna! B'Elanna, can you hear me? Help us! BELLA!* "Tom?" *Bella, it's me! You have to go back through the nebula! You have to go back . . . . Trace the *jinaq.* B'Elanna woke with a start. She shook herself, trying to get back to reality. It seemed so real. *You have to go back . . . .* She shuddered. The stress must be getting to her. But wait, what if it were real? Entering the nebula was where the disappearances had started, where the barrier -- "Torres to Captain Janeway. I have an idea." ***** No less than five minutes later, B'Elanna was standing in the captain's ready room. Janeway was sitting behind her desk with a serious look on her face. Drumming her fingers on the desktop, she said, "Okay, B'Elanna, let's hear it." "Captain, I think we should return to the exact coordinates where we lost everyone in the nebula again." The commanding officer fixed a somewhat startled expression on her chief engineer. "Why?" "That's where the distortion fields first appeared. It's sensible to assume that part of the nebula was the source of these disruptions. If we return, we should be able to study them further, find a way to get the crew back." When Kathryn opened her mouth to speak, B'Elanna plunged ahead. "I know we lost the signature of my *jinaq*, but it's possible to regain it there. I know for certain that the longer we stay here, the more the chances of rescuing the missing are decreasing!" Her mind silently added, *And I can't lose Tom. Not now.* "B'Elanna," the captain began gently, "I know how much this means to you." B'Elanna turned away at this, but not before Janeway got a glimpse of -- tears? She had never seen Torres come anywhere close to tears, and it was at this moment that Janeway realized just how much Tom Paris meant to the woman standing before her. "It means a lot to all of us, but I can't risk the rest of the crew by going back there again. We'll just have to find a way to get them back from here." "Captain!" B'Elanna protested, but Janeway silenced her with a wave of her hand. "B'Elanna, we won't leave the nebula till we get them back, I promise." B'Elanna shook her head angrily, then suddenly turned to face Kathryn, an enlightened look on her face. "Captain, what if I could create a kind of -- personal shield that would repel the distortions and keep the crew safe?" "I'm listening," Janeway said, sitting up straight in her chair. "If I could modulate the personal shield units to create a continuing phase variation . . ." she trailed off, her mind already in overdrive as to exactly how she could make this work. "All right. Get those ready as fast as you can, Lieutenant. Dismissed." B'Elanna was out the door before the captain had finished. ***** On the alternate plane, Tom dropped Chakotay and Stadi's hands. "What?" they asked in unison. "She got the message," Tom replied, a small smile on his face. "She's on her way." "What? How can you be sure?" Chakotay demanded. "I just know. I just felt her d
etermination. I bet she marched right up to the captain and told her to go back. I'll bet she's working on it right now." His expression turned solemn. "God, I hope the captain listens." "Don't worry, Lieutenant," Chakotay told him. "I'm sure B'Elanna will find a way to fix whatever problems Janeway has with her ideas." After clasping Tom's shoulder in a reassuring gesture -- one that Tom found suprising -- he walked away by himself. Tom took a moment to look at where they were. Since he had arrived, everything had been such a blur -- the confusion, his father, trying to contact B'Elanna -- that he really hadn't paid attention to his surroundings. But now, as he looked around, he was stunned. Apparently, the afterlife, *or whatever you want to call it,* Tom thought ruefully -- could be represented by a Gothic castle. They were in what seemed to be the main room. Torches hung on the walls. They were the only source of illumination, since all that could be seen through the few windows was the heavy cloak of night. A great, long table made of cherry oak was centered on the stone floor, surrounded by at least twenty chairs with plush red velvet upholstery. There were several nooks and crannies around the room where both the living and the dead huddled. Along the walls of the room, there were several smaller tables and shelves upon which various trinkets and knicknacks were displayed. "Fascinating, isn't it?" Tom jumped at the sound of his father's voice. "I've been here for several months and have yet to know the symbolism." "Incredible." Silently, Tom walked over to one of the windows. He couldn't even see the stars through the blanket of clouds. Unconsciously, he reached into his pocket to finger the *jinaq* he had placed there earlier, needing to feel some sort of physical connection to his Bella. "Ohmigod," he gasped. The *jinaq* was gone. "Lang!" he shouted. "Chakotay! Lamont!" he yelled, making his way over to them. "You, you haven't seen the *jinaq*, have you?" Both of the uniformed individuals shook their heads. "Oh no," Tom moaned. He collapsed against the wall and sank to the floor. "How is B'Elanna supposed to track us now?" At that moment, there was nothing Thomas Eugene Paris wanted to do more than see his beloved Bella again and put his arms around her. He doubted if he ever would be able to do that again. The *jinaq* had disappeared, and Tom could not remember when or how he might have dropped it. He knew he had held it tight while they were trying to communicate with B'Elanna. Now it was gone. Naomi Wildman's sudden outburst of wailing for her mother perfectly suited Tom's mood. Janine Lamont had been holding the little girl, but her cuddling failed to comfort Naomi. The sound of the child's cries broke through Tom's feelings of misery. Walking over to her, Tom took Naomi from Lamont and began to toss her in the air as he often had on Voyager, diverting her attention and eventually distracting her. All the while his mind was working. Handing the now-quieted child back to Lamont, Tom turned to Chakotay. "Look, Commander, we know that Voyager is looking for us. We have to find that *jinaq* so they can trace us again." "I agree. Hamilton, Lamont, Lang, let's go through this . . . this . . . castle, or whatever it is, and search systematically for the necklace. Tom, can you describe it for us?" Before Tom began to speak, Stadi broke in, "Commander . . . Chakotay, is it? The rest of us can help. Can't we, everyone? *Seska?*" The glare from Stadi's Betazoid eyes flared upon the Cardassian, who nodded a thin-lipped assent and sneered, "If we're ever to rest in peace, we have to finish all our unfinished business with Voyager anyway and get rid of these live interlopers." "Charming as always, even beyond the grave, aren't we, Seska?" Tom smiled crookedly. He only hoped that if Seska found the *jinaq,* she would be willing to tell them she had it. "I'm not doing it for you. I never did like you, Tom." Seska's gaze drifted over to Chakotay. "But much as I hate to admit it, none of you are supposed to be on the other side with us yet. You do understand, don't you, Paris?" Noting where Seska was looking, Tom answered, "Perfectly." Gradually, the area around Tom filled with a circle of the dead. Faceless Durst. Burnt Suder. The pieced-together Hogan. Jonas. Kaplan. Klingon B'Elanna. His Harry, the guy who really was Tom's first friend on Voyager. Cavit. Dr. Fitzgerald and his nurse T'Pera, whom Tom had almost forgotten about. Bendera. Darwin. Bennet. Martin. Worthington. And Stadi. Pilots always stuck together, he knew. He was grateful that everyone seemed eager to help. Tom described the necklace with its latinum setting and distinctive aquamarine blue stone, and everyone went shuffling off in various directions. Lang and Hamilton formed one team, Lang's tricorder's lights blinking as it worked. Stadi motioned Tom towards a huge door. "Would you like to search outside, too?" "Stadi, I never went outside. It can't be there." "This isn't like normal space, Tom. The rules don't apply here. It's best to be thorough. Anywhere we might even be *able* to move might be a place where that *jinaq* of yours landed." Shrugging his shoulders, Tom followed Stadi through the opened door, trailed by Chakotay. Outside, mists were swirling around clouds of a multitude of colors. *Fairyland,* thought Tom. The view did indeed look like representations of Faerie that he'd seen in old picture books and holonovels. If any solid ground were present, it could not be seen. The feel of whatever was beneath his feet was spongy. The mists were parted by his body and flowed around him as if he were walking through a nebula. Every step bounced a little, and Tom began to worry that he might fall through somehow. Glancing around, Tom saw Cavit and Martin stopped ahead of him, their heads down to examine something they apparently saw before them. As he started to call out to them to ask what they were looking at, from next to him Tom heard the sudden intake of Chakotay's breath and a whispered, "By the Great Spirit . . . " Whipping his head around, Tom could see, far to his left, a glowing blue cloud. Two figures clad in the teal of Sciences were enveloped in the glow, waving their hands above them as if they were trying to catch their balance. A second later, the two figures vanished into the glowing which, in turn, abruptly disappeared itself, as if a light illuminating that particular part of the cloud had been suddenly extinguished. ***** *Captain's log, supplemental: We are again in the area of the nebula where we lost Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Paris, and several other members of the crew. Ironically enough, it is now Halloween, or, as Crewman Megan Delaney has informed us, the eve of Samhain. In Celtic tradition, it is the night when the walls separating the worlds of the living from the dead are thin enough for the ghosts of the dead to pass through to capture the living. That story almost makes one speculate that a phenomenon such as we have been experiencing on Voyager may have occurred on Earth in prehistorical times, giving rise to the legends. That's lost to history, now. All I know is that I will not rest until my missing crew has returned from wherever this "Samhain Nebula" has spirited them.* Kathryn Janeway leaned back in her chair, considering the wording of her log entry. Should she let it stand, or did it smack too much of ancient superstition? She wished she could discuss it with Chakotay. With all of his knowledge of spirit guides and realities other than their own, surely he would have had some insight to add. A pang of emptiness washed over her. That wonderful grin of his, those hidden dimples that suddenly appeared whenever his usual mask of grave decorum was ripped from him. How much she longed to see it now! Despite her pain, a smile appeared upon the captain's face. Suddenly, Janeway sat up straight in her chair. Spirit guides -- might that be a way to look for him? She would need her medicine bundle. "Kim to Captain Janeway." "Yes, Harry, what is it?" "There's been an accident. A piece of bulkhead just fell from the ceiling in the corridor of Deck2, Section 3. Seven of Nine was injured. She's been transported to Sickbay, Captain." "On my way, Ensign. Janeway out." ***** "Your holoemitter is working perfectly, Doctor." "Thank you, Lieutenant Torres. I wanted to make sure. With all of the odd goings-on here, there's no telling when I may be forced to go on an away mission." The perky look on the doctor's face conveyed his eager anticipation of participating in an away mission again. He'd taken quite a liking to traveling off the ship on missions lately. He certainly wouldn't need to be forced to go. "Don't get -- " The whine of the transporter interrupted B'Elanna. A crouching Harry Kim coalesced into form, holding an apparently unconscious Seven in his arms. "A piece of bulkhead fell out of the ceiling and hit her on the head. She
's out, Doctor." Harry's voice was pitched higher than usual by excitement. "Let's lift her onto the biobed, Ensign. Lieutenant, we may need your assistance." After helping to lift her to the bed, Harry used his combadge to notify the captain of Seven's injury while B'Elanna used hers to immediately direct two of her staff to the affected bulkhead to investigate. "We'll find out what happened, Harry," she said, noting the concern on her friend's features as he watched the doctor using his medical tricorder to evaluate the condition of the statuesque figure on the biobed. *Oh, no, Harry's got it bad for her! The Borg! Those rumors about that midnight mess hall rendezvous must be true after all!* B'Elanna thought in dismay. The stirring of the woman on the biobed diverted the engineer's attention back to the patient. The former Borg's eyes fluttered open and regarded the EMH bending over her before she turned her head to take in Harry Kim's worried look. "What has occurred? Have I been damaged?" "It's nothing at all to worry about. The doctor's taking good care of you." "Ensign Kim is correct. Just a slight concussion; no permanent harm's been done, either to your biological tissues or your implants. Let me give you this hypospray to prevent a headache. After a short period of observation and rest, you'll soon be able to leave my Sickbay to get on with whatever it was that you were doing prior to your little mishap." The doctor had been working very hard on his bedside manner lately, and B'Elanna had to admit it had improved -- a little. Janeway swept into Sickbay. Noting the smiles on Harry's and the doctor's faces, she relaxed immediately. Nothing serious, then. Harry's hand was patting Seven's arm, and the captain tried to stifle her smile as she remembered what Chakotay had told her about the two of them. The ensign's crush was all too apparent. Janeway's smile weakened, however, when she saw a bluish glow behind Harry. The captain could not recall any medical equipment back there that would emit such a radiance. B'Elanna had also noticed. The tricorder always attached to B'Elanna's waist was already flipped open in her hand. Janeway felt the hairs on the back of her head stand on end as if from an electrical discharge. Two figures could be seen in that blue glow, two figures that definitely should not be there. An exclamation from B'Elanna caused Harry and Seven to look to the spot at which Janeway and the engineer were already transfixed. The doctor glanced up, then turned his attention back to his patient in the biobed. Harry stumbled back a step in shock. "Dr. Fitzgerald?" he said in shock. Janeway had to agree. One figure clearly resembled her deceased physician. Burns could be seen on his face and chest, matching those of his Vulcan companion, who had also been killed when Voyager had been snatched to the other side of the galaxy by the Caretaker's array. The blue glow seemed to expand for a moment, enveloping Harry in its light. The young ensign began to lose his balance, slipping away into the glow. As Harry's hand left her arm, however, Seven sat up in the biobed and reached out, grasping his hand again in hers. The Borg gave Harry's hand a hard yank as she fell back on the biobed again, causing Harry to sprawl across her torso. B'Elanna shouted out, but as quickly as it had appeared, the blue glow and the ghostly figures were gone from Sickbay. "Harry, are you all right?" asked Janeway, as she regained her voice. "Uh, I'm fine, Captain." "Well, Ensign," said the doctor, "as pleasant as that position must be for you, I need you to get off my patient. She has not yet been cleared to resume her usual activities." Harry's normally golden complexion, which had gone pale from what he had seen, quickly attained a rosy hue as a flush of blood rushed to his face. "And, may I ask, why did you cry out my predecessor's name like that?" "Doctor, didn't you see them?" B'Elanna demanded. "There were two people here, or was it two spirits?" Looking around towards the captain, the engineer saw the captain's answering nod. "I thought we were going to lose Harry for a moment. He almost got pulled in by them." "Yes, it certainly looked like Dr. Fitzgerald and his nurse T'Pera. Doctor, didn't you see them? The blue glow?" "No, Captain. I saw nothing unusual, except for Ensign Kim's losing his balance and landing on my patient's stomach. A position from which, I might add, he has yet to remove himself." Coughing, Harry scrambled to his feet. A hint of uplifted brow flashed briefly across the former Borg's features as Harry's weight left her. Janeway quickly described the apparition to the doctor, who reiterated that he had perceived nothing. Turning to her chief engineer, Janeway saw that B'Elanna and Harry were both studying her tricorder intently. "Captain, there's something about these readings now that I recognize. The distortion field that we've been finding has a harmonic resonance that is echoed here, but not in the air, where we've been looking. It seems to be in the ship's structure itself, right here next to the biobed." Harry drew out his own instrument. "I'm getting a confirmation of B'Elanna's readings, Captain. The structural integrity field is working perfectly, but there's sort of an echo in the readings in the deck here. It's very odd." "Ensign, where you're standing is exactly where Kes was standing the last time Seven of Nine was lying in that biobed, the day she helped me save Seven's life when her Borg implants started to kill her and had to be removed. Could there be a connection?" "Wasn't that the day we first had evidence of Kes' transformation to another sort of being?" "Yes, Captain." "B'Elanna, Harry, I want you to check the entire ship's structure to see if you can pick up those readings anywhere else. I want a full report in an hour. Doctor, we'll leave you with your patient." Seven started to get up, but the doctor firmly pushed her down again. "You haven't been released from Sickbay, Seven. You aren't going anywhere." As he walked out of Sickbay, Harry peeked back at Seven. She seemed to be pleading with the doctor to be freed from his care. Poor Seven. She'd get used to it, eventually -- as much as anyone ever did. ***** Ensign Ethan Simms walked onto the bridge to hear his commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, say, "Mr. Kim, are you still getting those readings?" "Yes, Commander. They're the same." Turning to his subordinate, Tuvok held out his hand for the data padd Simms held. Quickly perusing the contents, Tuvok turned back to his console and punched several buttons. As he studied his findings intently, Captain Janeway strode onto the bridge. "Do we have any more answers, Mr. Tuvok?" "Captain, we have determined that there are areas all over the ship that contain this echo of a resonance frequency, which seems in some way related to that which we can detect in the areas of distortion in this area of the nebula. What has also been confirmed by Ensign Simms' report is that these areas correlate with the areas of damage to the ship caused by Kes' transformation to another form of life." "How extensive are these areas?" "Quite extensive, Captain, with locations as far apart as the shuttle bay, the mess hall, Engineering . . . wherever the structural integrity of the ship was weakened when Kes began to exhibit her growing powers, the resonance frequency is present." "There's another thing, Captain," Harry interjected. "I noticed it when I asked B'Elanna whether Kes had ever visited her quarters. That last day, when Kes was on the way to the mess hall to meet Neelix, she stopped by B'Elanna's quarters to drop off a rose that Tom had wanted to give B'Elanna as a gift. He was going to do it himself, but he was delayed on the bridge. Kes said she'd do it for him, since she was going to the hydroponics bay to get something to bring to Neelix in the mess hall." "What does this have to do with this resonance frequency?" "Well, it's present in B'Elanna's quarters, and Tom and Ensign Lang both disappeared from there. So I checked, and every place that someone's disappeared from has also had that same reading in the structure of Voyager." Unable to contain himself any longer, Ensign Simms added, "You mean Janine fell into some kind of doorway that Kes opened?" "It could be, Mr. Simms. It could be," answered the captain, kindly. ***** Inside the castle, the flaming torches flickered upon a group of tired people. Even the dead appeared exhausted, dispirited. "Nothing, Tom. Even the tricorder couldn't trace your *jinaq.* Somehow, it just disappeared," Lang reluctantly reported. "We've done our best. What else can we do?" Tom said, looking around the group. He recognized everyone there. All had served on Voyager, he noted, even the dead who had perished off the ship had been actually serving on Voyager when they had died with one exception -- Admiral Paris. The same Admiral Paris, who, now that Tom thought about
it, had not joined in with the others to search for the *jinaq.* He started to ask the admiral what he had been doing while everyone else had been searching when he was diverted by the opening of the huge doors. Dr. Fitzgerald and T'Pera stumbled into the room. "We fell back onto Voyager. Paris, you were right. They seem to be in this area again looking for you," said the late human doctor. Tom looked at his commander in despair. "If we only had that *jinaq,* they'd find us, Chakotay!" "Let's think, people. Is there some other way to contact them? If we could only send a signal to them, let them know we're here, they wouldn't leave until every chance of rescue has been exhausted." "Commander, let me see if there's some way for me to pick up Voyager on my tricorder," said Lang. As Chakotay nodded his head, Tom shook his and shouted out, "I can't believe how stupid I am. The tricorder! Can't we program it to send out a signal itself, so that Voyager's sensors might pick it up? Let it transmit some data back to the ship, even just a carrier wave, that Harry could pick up from Ops?" The live members of Voyager's crew exchanged chagrined glances. "I'm sure I can do it, Commander, just give me a few minutes." "Get on it, Ensign." As Lang bent over to program her tricorder, no one noticed a malevolent gleam appear in the eyes of the one who bore the guise of Admiral Owen Paris. ***** Ensign Lang worked furiously. It had been two hours since the commander had ordered her to modify the tricorder and it appeared it was finally going to work, but only one time. There would be no way for them to know if Voyager got the message or not; they would just have to hope and pray that they did and would not give up the search. "Commander, it's finished. I've programed it with a standard Starfleet carrier signal. All I need now is for you to tell me what to say." "Just have it say that we are alive and not to give up the search." "Aye, sir." "And program in both Paris' and my own authorization codes so that the captain will know this is real." "Aye, sir, but this is going to work only one time. There will be no way for us to know if Voyager has recieved the message. Afterwards, this tricorder may as well be trashed." "Why is that, Ensign?" "Well, while I was trying to configure the tricorder to broadcast across the EM band width the circuits that control the phase variance and strength of the signal kept shorting out. It took me a while to get them locked down. As a result, the tricorder is, for lack of a better phrase, toast, if you catch my meaning." "Understood. Do the best you can." "Aye, sir." A moment later the fizzle and small light show signaled the end of the tricorder's existence. "Well?" "The signal was sent, but as to whether it will be received is something else. Now we wait." Chakotay turned around and nearly ran into Tom. "You think it will work?" "I don't know. I hope so. I have to believe it will." "Me, too," Tom replied. Again no one noticed the malicious gleam in the eye of the one pretending to be Admiral Paris. No one as yet knew that he had caused the short circuits or had any idea of what they were dealing with. ***** On board Voyager, B'Elanna was still working on personal shields when she received a page from the bridge. Because of the lateness of the hour she could not imagine who would be calling her. Probably some ensign whose console has gone out and hadn't a clue how to fix it. A moment later Harry's voice came over the com system. "Kim to Torres." "What is it, Harry?" "Could you come up to bridge? We are receiving some kind of transmission, but we are having trouble with the modulation and phase variance." "I'm on my way." ***** B'Elanna tore out of the turbolift. "What have you got, Harry?" "Well, it appears to be a standard Starfleet carrier signal but the message is getting scrambled." "Try setting up a dampening field around the receivers and set the computer to scan for the phase variance and modulation of the signal. Isolate it and then we can try to boost the signal by rerouting some power to the comm system." Harry and B'Elanna worked for a few minutes, then huge smiles spread across their faces. They had done it. Now they had to inform the captain. "Torres to Janeway." "Janeway here. Go ahead." "Captain, we have received a message. It's from Tom and Chakotay. They're alive." "I'm on my way. Janeway out." ***** Tom Paris sat in a chair, elbows on the long oak table and chin on his folded hands, as he tried to make sense out of everything that had happened since he had stepped "through the veil" for want of a better term. He glanced around the main hall of the castle and mentally separated those he saw into categories. He ticked off the categories on his fingers as he silently reviewed them. *All are either living or dead. The living are from Voyager. The dead are from Voyager. His gaze fell on B'Elanna's full Klingon features as she dozed in the chair beside his, and he corrected himself. *At least in part they are. All except for -- * "Tom?" Chakotay's voice from behind him broke his train of thought. "Commander, maybe you can help me with something," he responded, pushing a chair out from the table with his foot. At the scraping sound B'Elanna snapped awake, and Tom reached over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder and calming her. "What's that, Tom?" Chakotay asked as he sat in the proffered chair. "I've been sitting here, trying to make some sense out of everything that's been happening, and something is bothering me about the 'people' here." "What about us?" B'Elanna demanded, sitting up and shrugging Tom's hand off her shoulder. "Not all of you," Tom winced. "I've been sitting here, looking around, trying to fit everyone here into categories." Chakotay leaned forward in his chair, his interest piqued. "What sort of categories?" "Well, I started with broad ones, either living or dead -- " "That covers everyone," B'Elanna said with a wry smile which showed her slightly pointed teeth. Tom glanced sharply at her, and continued. "The living are all from Voyager, and the dead were all part of her crew." "I think I see where you're heading Tom," Chakotay interjected. "Everyone here is tied to Voyager somehow, except -- " "Except for your father," B'Elanna concluded. She looked around, taking inventory of all the dead and lost souls. "Who just happens to be missing." "Well, he is tied to Voyager through me. Isn't that what you and Pete said when I came across, that I was keeping you here? It was right after I thought about him that he appeared." "Tom, it doesn't work quite that way." B'Elanna countered, shaking her head. "You don't just appear here, you materialize slowly -- first your awareness, then your 'physical' form. At least that's how it worked for me." She reached out and grabbed Stadi's arm as she walked by. "Stadi, we need an opinion, and you're elected." Stadi looked over the trio, and took a chair next to B'Elanna. "All right, what have you people got on your minds?" She looked carefully at each in turn, then focused her attention on Tom. "You look like you've got something bothering you. Let's hear it." Tom filled her in on the discussion they had been having, and her expression changed from mildly curious to raptly attentive. "You think that perhaps something isn't right with your father," she stated. "I don't know. Before I left, he was alive. Now he appears here, claiming to be dead." "Not to mention that he's the only one here who isn't physically tied to Voyager in some way," Chakotay interjected. "And then there's the disappearance of the *jinaq.* I may think of you as a bit reckless, Paris, but I know you'd never be careless with anything that belonged to B'Elanna. How did it get out of your hand, and why didn't our search turn it up? If what we think about desire and need influencing events here is true -- " "It is," Stadi interjected. "Then with everyone searching, there is no way we could not possibly have found it. Or was everyone searching? Did anyone notice whether Admiral Paris actually helped in the search? I didn't see him anywhere." Chakotay looked around checking the others. "I didn't think so. So the question is -- " "The question is, just who or what is trying to pass itself off as my father," Tom concluded through gritted teeth. "And what has it done with B'Elanna's *jinaq*? We've got to get that necklace back, it's our best hope of Voyager finding us." He pushed back his chair and stood. "All right, everyone pair up and search for him. When you find him, one of you get the rest of us, and we'll all corner him. I want him -- " Tom stopped, and glanced down at Chakotay. "Commander, I'm sorry, I just -- " Chakotay stood chuckling softly. "Don't stop now, Tom. You're on a roll." "All right. Recruit everyone who you know was physically on Voyager, and let's find either Admiral Paris," -- Tom's mouth twisted in a sneer around the words -- "or the *jinaq.* And if you find him, re
member, don't approach him, we don't know what he's capable of." With that, he grabbed B'Elanna's hand and headed for the staircase. Once they were out of earshot, B'Elanna turned to him, her pointed teeth bared in a fierce smile. "And besides, you want him for yourself." Tom said nothing, but bared his teeth in a wolfish grin of his own. ***** As Kathryn Janeway exited the turbolift, her eyes instinctively sought out Harry and B'Elanna. She spied them huddled together at the Ops station, engrossed in deciphering the message from the 'other side.' "Report." They looked up, wide grins on their faces. "It's definitely from Tom and Chakotay, Captain," Harry said. "Both their ID codes are encrypted in it." "How did it originate?" B'Elanna shook her head. "It must have been from the tricorder Ensign Lang had. The signal was very weak. Other than the ID codes, it simply says 'alive.'" "What haven't you told me?" the captain asked. "You two wouldn't be grinning quite that widely if that was all there was to it." "We had to use a phase discriminator to lock the signal down; it had a strange variance to it. It was both physically and temporally out of sync with us," Harry said, turning to B'Elanna. "And now that we've got the variance isolated and locked in," B'Elanna continued, but the captain interrupted. "We can use that same variance to modulate the sensors and track the crew." "With any luck I'll even be able to modify the personal shield units so that we can 'cross over' and retrieve them," B'Elanna concluded with a smile. "Good, B'Elanna. You and Seven finish modifying the personal shields. Since they're based on Borg technology, she should be invaluable. Harry, you and I are going to work on the sensors." "Aye, Captain!" B'Elanna said as she headed for the turbolift and Sickbay. Now that they had a solid lead, B'Elanna moved with a purpose. She knew she was going to get Tom back, and not Hell itself was going to stand in her way. "That's a relief," Harry Kim whispered to himself as the captain stepped up next to him at the Ops console. "How so, Harry?" Captain Janeway asked, beginning to go over the log of the message, analyzing the frequencies to begin the necessary modifications to the sensors. Harry shrugged. "She's been a little . . . tense, that's all, Captain." "'Tense,' Harry? You're sure you don't mean unbearable, obsessed, driven?" Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge the captain's mood. He certainly didn't want to get B'Elanna in trouble, nor did he want the captain to realize that those were the words that the crew had been using to describe *her* ever since Commander Chakotay had disappeared. "No, ma'am. None of those. B'Elanna's just been tense since we lost Tom." "Well, I'm sure that Seven can deal with B'Elanna. We're going to have to get more power to the sensors if this is going to work. In order to handle the kind of energy needed to get through to the 'other side' we're going to have to use the main deflector to focus the sensors. Let's get down there; the sooner we get it done, the sooner B'Elanna will relax." She moved to the turbolift without waiting for a reply. "B'Elanna and you, don't you mean, Captain?" Harry muttered under his breath as he passed the Sciences station, causing Tuvok to arch an eyebrow, though whether in question or agreement, Harry wasn't sure. ***** B'Elanna headed straight for the lab where she was playing with the designs for the personal shield units. "Torres to Seven of Nine, report to Science Lab 2." She closed the channel without waiting for a reply. Though she knew that the ex- Borg's assistance could prove instrumental in retrieving Tom, she was none too happy with having to work side by side with her. Putting all such thoughts aside, she placed the two prototype shield units on the lab table. Calling up the schematics of the emitters, she began trying to work out a method of producing the required amount of energy, with the precise variation needed to allow someone to pass over to "the other side" of whatever rift was separating her from Tom. "You require my assistance, Lieutenant?" Seven asked from directly behind her. B'Elanna didn't even look up, just continued running simulations through the computer. "Yes. Harry and I have isolated the phase variation needed to pass energy from our side to wherever Tom . . . the crew is located. He and the captain are working on modifying the sensors to allow us to locate them. You and I are going to try and alter these shield units so that we can get to them and retrieve them." "Wouldn't it be a more practical idea to modify the transporters? Once we have a sensor lock on them, we can retrieve them with no one else needing to cross over," Seven asked, stepping to the console and examining the equations B'Elanna was using. "Actually, I want to do both," B'Elanna replied, looking up for a moment. "I don't trust the sensor's ability to target the transporters without a beacon on the other side. We need to be able to shift someone into their plane of existence with a working transponder, then use that to lock the transporters onto. It won't do us any good to transport them back here in a scrambled mess." "I see," Seven said as she began keying modification routines into the transporter processors. "You wish to be extra cautious in retrieving Lieutenant Paris." B'Elanna's head snapped up, her eyes boring into Seven's. "Not just 'Lieutenant Paris,'" she snarled. "I don't want to lose any of the crew, and with losing track of both my *jinaq* and Lang's tricorder, I think we need to take extra precautions. I find it extremely unlikely that Lang just disappeared by accident, as soon as she started making progress on locating the others." "But Ensign Kim was almost taken -- " "And other than myself, you, Tuvok and the captain, he's probably the best qualified person to solve this little problem. We've already seen that non- humans, or part humans, at least adult ones, can be immune to whatever is causing people to disappear. I think that Harry was just close enough to be snatched -- " "And when I caught his arm, the effect lost it's hold on him," Seven concluded. "You are hypothesizing an intelligence at work. One whose powers or technology will only work on certain individuals -- what was it Lieutenant Tuvok said? 'Those who are predisposed to believing in ghosts.'" "Precisely. The captain doesn't believe in ghosts for a minute, but Tom says he's seen them before, and Harry believes in them too. I don't, you don't -- " "I see your logic. Then it should be you, Lieutenant Tuvok, or myself that goes to retrieve the others once we finish these modifications. We are the least likely to be affected. I have made the necessary modifications to the transporters. Once they are tied into the sensors, we should be able to scan for and lock onto a transponder without any risk to the crew." "Good. If this last computer model works, perfect. We need to replace the existing power cells with the higher energy cells from a phaser, but other than that, this program modification will work. Here," she said, handing a shield unit to Seven. "You replace that one, I'll finish this." "Janeway to Torres." "Torres here, Captain." "Harry and I have finished the modifications to the sensors. Tuvok is bringing them on-line and beginning scans now. How are you two doing?" B'Elanna looked up to Seven, who nodded. "We're finished, Captain. Both the shield units and the transporters have been modified." "Good work. Meet us in Transporter Room 1. It's time we got our crew back." "Aye, Captain," B'Elanna replied, closing the channel. She picked up one of the shield units and clipped it to her belt. "Let's go." She turned and headed out the door. Seven attached the other unit to her belt, and followed impassively in her wake. ***** Tom Paris and the fully Klingon B'Elanna, whom he had finally decided to call Klingon B'Elanna for the sake of brevity, if nothing else, were exploring the upper rooms in the east wing of the castle. As they explored, Tom was inundated with questions from her about her living counterpart. Apparently, she was unable to see any of the living except for Tom, the one with whom she had 'unfinished business.' "She finally told you we love you? And on the Day of Honor, no less? She has more of me in her than I thought." Tom glanced sideways at her. "Will you please choose a pronoun for yourself and one for her? You're beginning to drive me crazy!" She glared at him. "Fine! She is she, and I am me. But the two of us are we! Now answer my question! Did she or did she not tell you we love you?!" Realizing that trying to change Klingon B'Elanna's mode of speech was a lost cause, he decided to just answer her. "Yes," he replied, opening a door and entering what appeared to be a bedchamber. "She told me on the Day of Honor that she loved me." "And did you tell her how you feel about us?" she asked, beginning to tear the room apart in search of t
he *jinaq.* Tom hesitated in rifling through an armoire. "Not right then. In fact, I didn't say it at all, until just as I was being pulled across, and -- " "And she didn't hear you." "You don't know that," he sorrowfully answered, resuming his search. "I'm afraid I do. Since I heard it here, she could not have heard it there. Why did you wait so long?" she asked, turning away and pulling the chest of drawers away from the wall. "I -- I don't know. I was afraid of committing to her." Tom sat on the bed with a sigh. "Every other time I tried a committed relationship, I managed to destroy it, hurting myself and the woman I cared for. So I stopped trying." Klingon B'Elanna looked back at him and dropped the drawer she had removed from the chest to the floor with a thud. Staring intently at him, she walked over and sat next to him. Taking his head in her hands, she turned him to face her. "Tom, she -- we are Klingon. No matter how much she tries to deny it, deep within, she has some of me there. She is strong enough to handle our love for you. But she is also afraid. Afraid because of her past, as much as you fear yours. I wish she were here to tell you." "So do I," Tom interrupted. "I need her to know how much I do love her." "Know this," continued Klingon B'Ellana, "our love for you is more than strong enough to withstand your past. Just don't hurt us with actions over there in the present, or she'll probably kill you." "How touching," a mocking voice said from the hallway. "A death threat from the dead half of a living lover." "You!" Tom shouted, bolting to his feet and diving through the door. His speed was so quick that he took the image of his father by surprise, locking his arms around its waist and driving it into the far wall with a resounding thud. "I don't know what you are, but I want B'Elanna's *jinaq* back and I want some answers. Now." He released the hold on the being's waist, sliding his forearm up and pressing it hard against the windpipe. "Or what?" the specter mocked, reaching out and lifting Tom into the air by his throat. "You'll kill me? You have no idea what you're dealing with, let alone how to harm me." "No," the other B'Elanna's voice came from down the hallway. "But we might." "Indeed, though you seem to be able to affect the others, you have yet to be able to touch either of us," Tom's shocked ears heard Seven of Nine's voice add. "Let him go!" came the furious roar as Klingon B'Elanna charged out of the bedchamber and drove a fist into the side the specter's head. Tom fell to the ground as the being released him, the side of its head oozing a greenish liquid from the force of the blow. Klingon B'Elanna bent down to Tom, checking to see what damage had been caused, and never saw the hand that knifed down across the back of her neck, impacting with the crunch of breaking bone and dropping her to the floor. Voyager's B'Elanna snapped out of the daze she was caught in from seeing Tom in danger, and her Klingon half charged out to save him. The phaser rifle in her hands whined and a bolt of force shot out, catching the spectral admiral square in the chest, knocking it back and down, leaving it twitching on the floor from the aftereffects of the modified energy blast. As it fell, the *jinaq* slipped out of a pocket and hit the floor with a musical sound. Tom gathered the fallen Klingon B'Elanna in his arms, and rocked her from side to side. "Don't die on me," he whispered in an anguished voice. "Please, not without hearing it. You can't die without hearing me say 'I love you.'" A surprised Seven of Nine stared, looking from the Klingon B'Elanna in Tom's arms to the stunned face of Voyager's B'Elanna kneeling down next to him. She then turned to pick up the still twitching alien, now an androgynous gray form, no longer resembling Admiral Paris. Lieutenant Torres was silent, kneeling in shock, both from seeing her dead Klingon self die again, and from hearing Tom profess his love to her, though *which* her he meant she wasn't entirely sure. She reached out and touched her own face, nearly falling over when the other B'Elanna's eyes opened. "I can't die, you idiot," a suddenly grinning Klingon chuckled. "I'm already dead. It's about time *she* heard you say that though," Klingon B'Elanna laughed, leaving no doubt as to who the 'she' was. "Now I can finally get to my rest." She stood, and pulled both her counterpart and Tom to their feet. "You two take care of each other, or I may come back to haunt you both!" With a final laugh she turned and walked through the wall. Tom and B'Elanna were left to stare at the wall where the Klingon B'Elanna had vanished, and shake their heads. Then they looked at each other, joining in a fierce hug and kiss. "Lieutenants," Seven's voice interrupted. "I think perhaps that can wait until we locate the rest of the crew and return to Voyager." They reluctantly pulled away from each other. Both glared venomously at Seven before they turned and headed down the hall toward the main room. As Seven followed them, dragging her captive by the "neck," she saw B'Elanna Torres reach out to take Tom's hand in hers, clasping it as if afraid he would vanish in the same manner as her Klingon half. In the main hall they found both the missing living and the dead gathered. "Klingon B'Elanna told us you got him," Stadi said, "and that Lieutenant Torres and Seven of Nine had arrived." "Seven, B'Elanna," Chakotay greeted them,"how you got here can wait, but I assume you have a way for us to get back? And that this is 'Admiral Paris?'" "You are correct on both assumptions, Commander," Seven replied. "We have brought along a transponder which is even now being tracked by Voyager. We can return at any time. As for this being -- " "He shall be dealt with," a resonant voice spoke, seemingly from everywhere at once. "He has broken the covenant. You were never meant to know of us, or to be here. He will answer for these transgressions." "But why did he do it?" Tom asked. "That is not for you to know. When you are ready to come across, then perhaps you shall learn the answers you seek. For now, go. Return to your journey, and leave these spirits to continue theirs." With a bright glow, the figure in Seven's grasp faded away, and the spirits of Voyager's dead faded also, leaving her living crew standing perplexed in the empty room as they felt the transporter take hold. ***** The captain sat in her ready room, reviewing the reports that the crew had made on their experiences on the "other side," and shook her head. No one at Starfleet Headquarters would ever believe any of this. It read too much like a ghost story, and not a one of the admirals she knew, least of all the one whose image figured prominently in the logs, was going to believe that some ghost, demon, angel, or *whatever* had snatched *Voyager's* crew, and that the dead spirits of those Voyager had lost had combined to help return them to their rightful places. *Captain's Log: I have placed the reports of the crew in this file, and am adding this addendum. I am pleased to report that all the missing members of the crew have returned to Voyager, and the doctor has certified that no harm has come to any of them. Though the events described herein appear to be impossible, two thousand years ago, humanity knew that space flight was impossible. I can only say that there are some things in the galaxy that we are currently unable to explain. End log.* ***** Tom and B'Elanna were sitting in her quarters, his arm wrapped around her shoulders and her head on his chest. Neither had spoken of what had happened in the hallway of the castle since they returned. They had been sitting that way, soaking up the feel of each other and reassuring themselves that it was indeed over, for the better part of two hours, when B'Elanna raised her head to look into Tom's eyes. "Tom, in the hallway when you were holding . . .me," she whispered. "What was it you said?" "I said, 'You can't die without hearing me say -- '" He stopped, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the *jinaq* and fastened it around B'Elanna's neck. "I love you." He kissed her tenderly, then pulled back, and resting his forehead on hers repeated,"I love you, B'Elanna Torres."