by Alys Landale
As always, I don't own any of the Star Trek characters in this story.
Tom, B’Elanna, and the rest of the gang all belong to Paramount and whoever else created them. But as for Aria, Kail, Takma, Rosin and any other character that doesn't fit in the Star Trek universe, they're mine. So here's the story.
THE FATES SERIES
"Tortured Souls"
Almost a week had passed since Tom Paris's death. Everyone reacted differently. Some tried to pretend that nothing had happened; others let their grief show for all. And one person, she blamed herself.
Captain Kathryn Janeway stared at the Padd in front of her. On it was a picture of a blond-haired, blue-eyed man in his thirties. She let a few more tears run down her face. If only she hadn't led that exploration mission into the space station, then he would still be alive.
"It's all my fault," she repeated to herself for almost the hundredth time.
Chakotay entered the captain's ready-room. She had spent almost all the time since she had returned in isolation. So had B’Elanna for that matter, but Chakotay knew she needed time to grieve alone. He just hoped she wouldn't grieve for too long.
"Captain," he said. She looked up; her face had fresh tears on it. "Tom's service will be held in a couple of hours. I just came by to see how you were doing."
She gave a weak smile, "Thanks Chakotay." She looked back down at the Padd. "I just keep thinking, if it weren't for me we wouldn't even be having his service."
"You can't blame yourself, Kathryn. No one could have known what was going to happen in that station."
"It still doesn't change the fact that I went against the Prime Directive. I punished Tom for doing the same thing, and now I do it and someone dies." She looked up to Chakotay's face. "I should have been the one to stay behind, not him. It was my fault. I was in command."
Chakotay shook his head. "You know Tom as well as I. He would never allow someone else to take a risk like that if he could do something to stop it." He walked over to where the captain sat. "He wasn't going to let you die, Kathryn. You know how self-sacrificing he is. He would have never let you do that."
Janeway stared into Chakotay's eyes. They had the same solemn grief as everyone else on the ship. She knew that he was trying to help her but it didn't work. It still didn't hide the fact that it was her fault.
Chakotay sensed her indecision. *She still blames herself,* he thought.
He had no idea what else he could say to her, so instead, he took her in his arms and just held her. At first she didn't respond, but then she hugged him as tightly as possible. She felt her grief begin to flood out of her. She let out a sob and began to cry.
Chakotay felt the tension begin to leave her. She was now shaking slightly in her arms. Her tears dampened his shoulder but he disregarded it. This was what she had needed to do all along. But as the captain there were few people to lend her a shoulder to cry on.
*If only Paris knew how much he meant around here.* Chakotay thought. He hadn't liked the cocky young pilot at first, but over the years he had formed a grudging respect for him.
He held on tighter to Kathryn. They needed to be there for one another, now. He just hoped that the captain realized that as well.
B’Elanna moved around her quarters like a ghost. She felt hollow. Never before had she realized just how much Tom had meant to her. Now she felt even worse than when she had first heard about the death of the Maquis.
Anger welled up in her for a moment, *Damnit Paris, why'd you have to leave me?!*
But it quickly dissipated and sorrow rushed in to take its place. She fell onto her bed and began to cry again. She remembered his smile. The way his eyes would light up when she was around him. How he could relieve any tension on the bridge with just a bad joke. She missed him so much. She even missed their fights.
But no, he was gone. His service would be this afternoon. She had to get ready.
Janeway had given her a week off to help cope. It hadn't helped. Usually she would complain about being away from her engines, but not anymore. They just didn't seem to matter.
She put on her uniform. This would be the first time she had been out of her quarters in quite a while. She closed her eyes for a moment. This was just too hard.
**B’Elanna**
She quickly opened her eyes. She could have sworn that she had heard Tom call her name; felt him beside her. But she quickly dismissed that idea. Tom was gone. There was no way that could have been him. There was no way.
*
Paris woke up to his constant companion, pain. He had no idea how long he had been like this. Occasionally he could stay conscious long enough to see someone come inside to check on him. It was the same each time. An alien would come in. He looked almost human except for the ridges over his eyes and the pure black irises. Then he would begin poking around his body.
Instruments would be held all over him. Tissue samples would be taken and other devices were attached to his body. Then another one would come in. It was female. She would talk with the 'doctor' and ask him how her 'guest' was doing.
*'Guest'* Paris thought bitterly. *More like prisoner.*
He thought about B’Elanna. She probably thought he was dead. In fact, there were times when he actually thought so himself. More times, he wished it.
He thought he could feel her for a second. She was sad. His heart wanted to break; it seemed so real. He whispered her name. ''B’Elanna.'' And then fell unconscious again.
Takma walked towards her 'guest.' Doctor Rosin had said that he was recovering quite well. In another day, they could begin the tests on him that she was getting so impatient to perform.
*I want to see just how much of his technology can be incorporated into our own. If the doctor's assumptions are correct, then we should be able to begin very soon.*
Takma had ordered that no medical attention be paid to the life form unless it seemed that he would die. She wanted to see just how advanced his healing functions were. And so far she was impressed. He had been practically a corpse when they had brought him in. Now he was predicted to be fully recovered in less than a day.
The technology that he held was similar to the Borg. If she was lucky, she might be able to find a way to make her own collective. Then the problem with over populated concentration camps would be solved.
She looked down at him. He was looking stronger everyday. He probably would have recovered much quicker had she not allowed the doctor to run those experiments on him. But it didn't matter, in a couple of hours they would approach her private research center. Not even her husband knew about that one. Once there, they could continue the experiments at an increased magnitude.
Tapping on the forcefield in front of her, she addressed her guest. "Hello, there." He didn't reply. "You'll be proud to know that you are going to be my favorite project. I intend to spend quite a while finding out just how you work."
She laughed to herself, "Yes, my husband will be quite envious when he finds out about you. But by that time he'll be too worried about how to save his own life rather than petty jealousy."
*
Harry Kim stood outside B’Elanna's door. He hadn't seen her in the past couple of days. Each time he would come to talk to her she would put it bluntly that she didn't want to see anyone. He knew how she felt but he also knew that Tom wouldn't want her lost in grief.
He chimed the door. A rough "Come in'' came from the other side.
Harry entered. He couldn't see B’Elanna anywhere. *She's probably still getting dressed.* he thought.
"Umm, B’Elanna, I just came by to see if you were ready yet."
"Yeah, Harry, I'll be out in a minute." Her voice sounded hoarse even t
o her.
He sat down on the couch. He hated what was coming next. The whole reason he had come was to escort B’Elanna to Tom's service. *She's been through so much lately.* he thought. *I don't see how she can keep on going.*
Harry knew she was strong, but he also knew that she had learned to derive most of her strength from Tom. They had helped each other in so many ways....
B’Elanna walked out of her bedroom. Her eyes were downcast and she couldn't even look Harry in the eye. The ensign noted her red eyes though and haggard expression. *She hasn't been getting any sleep either* he noted.
"B’Elanna," he said. "B’Elanna are you alright?"
She shot him a glare. "Alright?! No Harry, I'm not alright. Tom's dead, how the hell can I be alright?!"
He walked over to her side. He never thought he'd be glad to hear her temper. *At least she still has the strength to knock someone's head off.*
"I know how you feel. He was my best friend. But I also know that he wouldn't want us to sit around and wallow in our sorrow. He'd never want to be the cause of your pain."
"Yeah, but I was the cause of his."
Harry looked puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
She looked away. "For the past few weeks, Tom and I had been having a lot of fights. Before we left, I had actually thought about ending it with him. I never realized how much I loved him until now. I didn't even get to tell him I was sorry, to say goodbye..." Tears ran down her face as she said this.
Harry took her hand in his. "Listen to me Maquis. He knew how much you loved him; he loved you just as much. Do you think a few little fights could ever destroy something like that?" He turned her head towards him. "You might not have had the chance to say good-bye back there but you do now. So come on; they'll be starting soon."
Torres nodded. "Thanks, Harry. Just give me a second to clean up.''
He watched her enter her bathroom. He knew how much this was killing her, he was feeling the same way. *Wherever you are, Tom, I hope your doing better than we are.*
*
Paris shivered in his cell. From what he could tell, he was somewhere new. *Where the hell am I?!*
His thoughts were interrupted by another's voice. "I see you've woken up. It's about time."
The voice was female with a masculine air to it. He looked up to see the same woman that had visited his cell before.
"Who are you;'' he managed to choke out. It came out in a raspy cough, but she seemed to understand.
She smiled down to him. Her face was devoid of all warmth and life, it was as if she was thrilled to death to see the sight of his pain. "My name is Takma. You'll be seeing a lot of me from now on so you might as well cooperate.''
"Like Hell I will," he spat out. His head was still spinning and he couldn't quite sit up yet, but he felt well enough to be as uncooperative as he could.
She gave a slight frown. "You really should reconsider. You see I can either make this unpleasant for you or pure torture. I'll let you decide, but know this, you are mine, and I always keep control over what is mine." She bent down and whispered into his ear. "And I use any means necessary to make sure of that."
He knew that she was telling the truth. The sound of her voice sent a chill down his spine but he let her see none of his fear. *This must be the most evil woman I have ever met* he thought.
He had seen her only a few times but his impression remained solid. Somewhere, something told him he couldn't do anything she said. Then he thought about Sorores. No one could know about that station. He couldn't let that technology get into someone else's hands. Especially the hands of a madwoman like Takma.
He craned his neck up toward her. She bent down to hear his next words. What she heard surprised her more than anything in her life. "I don't give a damn what you do. As far as I'm concerned I'm already dead so there's not much else you can do to me."
No one had ever said this to her face. Not even her husband had talked to her in such a tone. She stared into the cold blue orbs of his eyes. In them she saw a determination no other being had ever possessed. She would break this one. Here was a challenge that she wasn't about to back away from.
''Your attitude will soon change," she said, an air of confidence settled over her. "Once you see what my people can do to a person, you won't be so reluctant to help."
She got up and left his cell. On her way out, she spoke to the guard. "Get that one ready. I want to 'personally' question him." Turning to Paris, she said, "I will be looking forward to our next visit." And then she left.
Shifting the rifle in her arm, the guard at his cell turned her head towards him. Her eyes were the same black that Takma's were. But in them there was something else. Kindness. He took a closer look. Those weren't the same kind of eyes as the others. In his mind he could see her eyes, purple orbs not black ones. And the dark tresses that served as her hair didn't seem right either. He could swear that he had seen her before. A vision appeared in his mind. It was the same woman, except she had long blue strands of hair and amazingly vibrant violet eyes.
The image soon vanished. Again, he saw the stern gaze of the guard on him. He looked away. *Damn, Sorores, what did you do to me?*
The guard stared at her prisoner. *Is this the man I have been sent to find?* There was only one way to be certain. As her eyes caught his, she touched his mind with hers. She sensed his thoughts, his emotions, his memories of being on the space station. *This is him,* she thought.
Before she was able to break off her telepathic link, he did something totally unexpected. She felt him take hold on her mind.
He was able to see her true form, not the disguise she was wearing at the moment. She was about to stop him from going any farther, but he relinquished his hold before she had the chance.
He looked a bit surprised. But then he turned his eyes away from her and stared at the blank wall.
*He doesn't know what he can do.* She was a bit surprised at her own thoughts. Somehow, she had suspected that he would be a little more understanding of his own abilities. *Well then, I guess that just means I have a lot of work ahead of me.*
She then turned her attention back to her job. *I still have to keep this facade up until I can find a way to get us out of here.*
She let out a silent groan. That 'way' was going to be a lot harder than she wanted to realize.
*
Paris's 'service' was held that afternoon at 1700 hours. Janeway had agreed to preside over the ceremonies. She had managed to put up her professional mask while in the presence of her crew, but Chakotay could see how hard it was for her.
They had all agreed that it be held in the Holodeck in one of Tom's favorite programs. It was a nature trail that he had traversed while on Earth. The sun was shining and the trees around them were abundant with life. This was a stark contrast to the mood of those present.
B’Elanna and Harry stood at the front. Both were caught in silence. It seemed that this was the quietest her crew had ever been.
Janeway took a deep breath. They had given Tom a fitting Star Fleet funeral. In her mind, she knew that this would have been the way the Admiral would have wanted his son's service. But Tom? There were a few more words that she needed to say before she left. They might not be as professional as most captains', but she had to get them off her chest.
"Before we leave, I have one more thing to say.'' Her voice was hoarse as the words came out but no one seemed to notice.
"Tom Paris was one of the bravest, most unselfish people I have ever met. He gave his life so that others might live. Even though he had made his share of mistakes throughout his life, he took responsibility for them and they only proved to make him a stronger person. I am proud to say that I had the privilege of being his commanding officer, and I know that there will now be an empty space in our crew that no one will ever be able to fill. Wherever you are Tom, I wish to you peace and happiness, because you gave that to all of us.''
Janeway wiped a tear away, as did all those listening, sav
e Tuvok and Seven. They seemed to be in their own type of mourning. The captain stepped down from where she had been standing. Chakotay was by her side as she walked away. Everything was silent except for the occasional sob or sniffle from those present. The captain noticed her littlest crewmember next to her mother. Naomi was crying softly, as was Sam.
*Why did this have to happen?* Janeway asked for the hundredth time. *Why did this have to happen?!*
B’Elanna left the holodeck. She just couldn't stand it any longer. All the memories of Tom. Memories of them together. The dreams that now no longer had a chance to come true. It was just too hard.
She walked down the corridor to her room. She just wasn't ready to see anyone else right now. Deep down, she wondered if she would ever be.
*
Takma struck him hard across his temple with the iron bar in her hand. So far, this was going a lot slower than she had thought. *No one has ever lasted this long* she said to herself. It was true, usually it took only an hour or maybe two to get whatever results she wanted. Either that or her victim would die before she could complete her interrogation. She had been at it with her new 'guest' for almost six hours.
Paris was still holding up. Blood trickled down his forehead. His body was covered in lacerations. In fact, most of his uniform was soaked in blood or torn away. She wondered how he could possibly be holding on to consciousness.
*Perhaps I underestimated this one* she thought.
"Let me rephrase the question," she said in the calmest tone she could conceive. "How did you get this technology?"
He stared into space. His jaw was clenched shut. He had been this way the entire time. The only sign of his pain was in his eyes. They were clouded over in mist. Pain reflected out of each orb.
His lack of response only proved to further Takma's anger. She raised the bar and turned on the switch on its side. It glowed a faint orange and then she brought it down over Paris's chest.
