Angel

ANGEL

ANGEL

By
Morticia
49-51/60

Part 49 

CHAKOTAY
I felt a moment
of guilty grief as we shot through the jagged hole in Voyager’s side. The old
lady had gallantly carried us home and I had rewarded her by blasting a hole
in her side that gaped like a huge wound. So I risked the phasers of DS9 and
made sure that she was clear of the backlash of our engines before engaging
warp.
Then I turned on
the autopilot and the Heran cloaking device that would render us invisible both
to sensors and the naked eye before turning to face the others.

Those few moments
of our escape had been enough for Tom to sink back into unconsciousness. Seeing
his unnaturally pale face I started to rise out of my chair in panic but the Doc Doctor’s calm voice hastened to reassure me.
"He’s just
sleeping, Commander, he’s exhausted and malnourished but he’s fine."

I looked at him
in relief
"Thanks. Thank
you for helping us too, and it’s just Chakotay." I finished grimly; I certainly
wasn’t a Commander anymore. The only Starfleet title I was likely to hold from
now on was Fugitive No 1.
"I’m really
grateful for your help, your timing was impeccable!" I said, shivering
as I remembered the flashing blade "But I can’t for the life of me understand
how you knew to be ready. Did you KNOW Tom was on DS9?"
Neelix looked away
from me sheepishly, and shook his head in a negative.
"Well I did"
The Doctor said proudly, "I was in DS9’s sickbay being ‘de-briefed’ when
Tom materialised. Doctor Bashir was then too busy creating a diversion to notice
me leave."
"A diversion?"

"Well Tom
was followed rather promptly by a security team from the USS HPTS. It appears
he had told them he had some highly infectious virus. When they discovered it
was just his way of forcing them to bring him here, they were decidedly unimpressed."

I grinned over
at Tom. In sleep he looked as innocent as a small child but I could clearly
imagine him doing such a trick. It was the sort of mischievous thing he used
to do before I had carsly sly ripped his heart apart. My grin turned into a
grimace as guilt struck me again, so I turned back to the Doctor.

"How did you
know we would need a ship?"
"I didn’t.
To be honest I had absolutely no idea whether you would be pleased to see him
or not. The ship was to rescue Tom." The Doctor replied bluntly.

I nodded. In view
of my previous actions I could hardly lose my temper over such a harsh judgement.
I had given no one cause to believe any better of me.
"Why Angel’s
ship? It would have been hard enough to break into any docking bay, let alone
have to get into Voyager too. Surely there were plenty of runabouts." I
asked although, to be honest, without Angel’s cloaking device we wouldn’t have
had a hope in hell of staying free for more than a few hours.
"I – um –
I – that is –" Neelix mumbled
"He was already
stealing it!" The Doctor snapped waspishly
I blinked in surprise.
"You were stealing Angel’s ship?" I asked in confusion. "Why?"

"Because I
wanted to get the hell out of here" Neelix snapped back "So much for
all your tales of Earth and the great Federation. I have spent the last 24 hours
being interrogated and being subjected to the MOST embarrassing INTIMATE examinations!"
The little Talaxian was almost purple with outrage and humiliation.

"Apparently
they wanted to be sure he wasn’t a Founder!" the Doctor said "They
seem to be QUITE paranoid these days."
"So you were
going to steal Angel’s ship and go home?" I asked angrily. If Tom hadn’t
come to DS9 I would have lost my chance to follow him. Despite the fact that
Neelix’s selfish actions had actually saved us both, I was still aggrieved.

"It seemed
my only chance to get home!" Neelix replied with shame.
"The wormhole
has collapsed" I told him, "There isn’t any way back to the Delta
Quadrant."
"So where
can I go?" Neelix asked in renewed panic "Where can any of us go?"

Which had been
my thought all along too.
"Dorvan"
I replied decisively
"Dorvan?"
Tom asked in a frightened voice.
I swung around
in surprise. I hadn’t realised that he had woken up.
"It’s the
only place I can think of. babe!" I told him "They don’t have an extradition
treaty with the Federation. Ever since they were abandoned to the Cardassians,
the Dorvan government has refused to accept any Federation law. Now the war
is over, Dorvan is neutral territory."
I thought my words
would soothe him, but instead I saw tears pooling in his blue eyes and his lower
lip began to quiver tremulously. The confidence he had shown in DS9 had been
replaced with his more usual uncertainty.
I scooted over
to him and sank to my knees so that our faces were level. Gently cupping his
face in my hands I leant forwards and kissed the tip of his nose. He shuddered
and collapsed forwards into my chest. I hugged him fiercely.
"It’s okay,
Tom. It’s going to be alright."
"I don’t want
to go to Dorvan" he whispered sadly into my ear.
I pushed gently
at his shoulders until I could look at his tear-filled eyes; they were bleak
with misery.
"We will be
safe there, Tom." I assured him, although to be honest I wasn’t sure whether
that was completely true. "My family will help us."
I watched Tom bite
his lower lip pensively.
"Your family
will hate me, they will hate me for stealing you from Angel" he mumbled
sadly.
"You didn’t
steal me, Tom. I have given myself to you. You are everything. You are the keeper
of my soul. They will love you because I love you."
"Do you?"
Tom asked and then flushed as I flinched. "I’m sorry" he whispered

I clenched his
hands tightly in my own. They were frighteningly cold so I began to rub them
softly as I began to whisper all the endearments I could think of.

"Ahem"

The Doctor’s voice
made me color with embarrassment. I had honestly forgotten that anyone else
was there.
"Since it
will take several hours to get there, and Neelix and I are quite capable of
watching the autopilot, perhaps it would be a good idea if you took Tom to bed."

I choked. Neelix
spluttered and Tom’s miserable expression was eradicated by a joyful snigger.

For a moment the
Doctor flickered in bewilderment. I could almost see his sub-routines chasing
themselves in confusion. Then understanding dawned and he huffed with annoyance.

"That was
a MEDICAL recommendation. Tom needs to sleep."
"Oh, you meant
I should "Put" Tom to bed" I replied sagely, "You really
must TRY and explain yourself more clearly Doctor."
Tom collapsed in
giggles at my dry comment. As I helped Tom to his feet I looked over his shoulder
at the affronted Doctor and gave him an apologetic grin. Understanding that
my ‘wit’ had been an effort to cheer Tom up, the Doctor nodded his forgiveness
and gave me a wry smile.
Tom was still sniggering
as I helped him into the narrow bunk in the aft of the small craft. I smoothed
the sheets and tucked a blanket tightly around his thin shoulders before kissing
him gently on the forehead.
As soon as his
head sank into the pillow, his eyes began to flutter as he struggled against
his exhaustion.
"Sleep, honey."
I urged him
"Will you
stay with me?" he whispered beseechingly
"Of course"
I replied softly "I am never going to let you out of my sight again, Tom."

He smiled happily
and closed his eyes. I waited until he was in that vulnerable twilight state
between awareness and sleep before I softly asked the question that had been
raging in my head.
"Tom?"

"Umm?"

"Why did you
have a knife?"
"Just in case"
he mumbled sleepily
"Just in case
of what?" I probed
"In case you
chose HIM" Tom replied, his voice fading as sleep descended

I shuddered in
cold fear. Tom may have found the strength to have come back to me, but he was
obviously still far from well. I had terrified myself with the way I had sunk
into his madness on DS9. At the time, with the battle raging around us, with
certain capture just seconds away, Tom’s suicidal plan had actually made sense
to me. Now I was horrified that I had even considered such an option.

But it was one
thing to have let the heat of the moment overwhelm me and another entirely to
have ‘planned’ suicide in cold blood as Tom evidently had. I was going to have
to be SO careful. Tom would have to be watched like a hawk from now on. I could
only pray that on Dorvan we would find some help for his depression, some way
to undo all of the harm that I had evidently done him.
Yet, it was so
difficult to reconcile this depressed, suicidal Tom with the avenging spirit
who had descended on Quarks. How the hell had Tom found the strength to trick
his way back to DS9 and then FORCE me to marry him? (Not that I was complaining,
of course)
"Tom?"
I queried gently; uncertain whether he was still awake.
"Ummmmmmmm?"
he mumbled sleepily
"Why did you
come back for me?"
For a long time
he was silent, his chest moving up and down so regularly that I was convinced
that he was asleep, but then he answered me
"It wasn’t
me"
I looked at him
in bewilderment and then shrugged. Tom was obviously fast asleep after all.
He must simply be dreaming.
"It was Passamaquoddy."
Tom whispered and then rolled over and began to snore softly.
So he was completely
unaware of the way I nearly fainted at his words.
 

Part 50 

JEANETTE
To an outsider,
the entire Paris Family’s race to find Tom probably looked like dramatic overkill.
Captain Picard had certainly been somewhat chilly in his welcome to us. Perfectly
polite, of course, given Dad’s position and he had been perfectly charming to
my mother, but then since they were both French and terribly well educated they
had found an immediate rapport.
Elisabeth and I,
on the other hand, were finding the Enterprise to be a less friendly place than
we had expected. We knew that Dad’s hijacking of the ship was a high-handed
abuse of his authority so we were not surprised that there was a certain level
of resentment. But it seemed that everyone had watched the vid of Tom and Chakotay’s
‘escape’ from DS9 and the general opinion of the fugitives was not good.

Dad maintained
that Tom had been kidnapped by Chakotay, who everyone knew was an unscrupulous
Maquis terrorist. Dad dismissed Tom’s evident desire to accompany Chakotay as
merely a symptom of his mental illness.
Everyone had seen
Tom insist that his marriage to the criminal was completed, but the only person
who dared refer to Chakotay as Tom’s husband had met with such fury that he
had nearly been burnt by the heat of Dad’s angry words. Dad said that the marriage
was either invalid or if it WAS legally valid it would simply be annulled, citing
Tom’s illness as the reason.
Elisabeth and I
were completely bewildered at first by Dad’s unquestioning acceptance of the
idea that Tom was mentally ill.
He used his copy
of Tuvok’s recommendation that Tom be hospitalized as if it were a magic key
that could open any door.
He waved it in
the face of all resistance, justifying all of his actions with the fact that
Starfleet had the same duty to Tom as it had to any wounded veteran.

That the great,
proud Admiral Owen Paris was determined to thrust the knowledge of Tom’s mental
illness into everyone’s face was completely beyond my comprehension until I
finally spoke to mother.
"It’s his
way of protecting Tom." She told me gently, her fine-boned face serene
as she sat in the observation lounge, staring out at the passing stars.

"Protecting
him? By telling everyone that he is insane? At this rate Tommy’s going to spend
the rest of his life in a hospital!"
"Your father
is simply ensuring that Tom doesn’t spend the rest of his life in a jail."

I looked at her
thoughtfully, tiny lines of tension were etched around her blue eyes, and a
few more strands of silver seemed to weave within the gold cloud of her hair.

"Do YOU believe
that Tom is m- , um - not responsible for his actions?"
"I know that
he is ill, that he has been suicidal, but no, I believe he knew EXACTLY what
he was doing when he went back for Chakotay."
"So, Dad is
saying Tom is mad so that when they get caught, Chakotay is thrown to the wolves
and while he takes the fall, we grab Tom and make our escape." I concluded

"I believe
that is the general plan."
"That sucks!
At least it does if Tom IS in love with Chakotay. He’s hardly going to let us
take him home quietly while his husband is taken to jail. "

"He doesn’t
have to come quietly, he can swear he went with Chakotay voluntarily until he’s
blue in the face, but no one will listen to him.
"Because he’s
mad" I spat sarcastically
"Exactly"

"You CAN’T
possibly agree with this, mother. It’s obscene"
"I never said
that I did. I was merely confirming your father’s reasoning."

I looked at her
speculatively.
"So what ARE
you going to do?"
"Tom has made
mistakes, Jeanette, lots of them, but I believe in him. If he loves this Chakotay,
then there must be a good reason for that love. The official reports are just
too – slick. I think that there is something we don’t know, something no one
WANTS us to know. I know from my own experience that Kathryn Janeway can’t be
trusted and as for Tuvok, well, a Vulcan is hardly the best person to judge
the validity of emotions. I think that the answer lies with Ensign Kim."

"The one who
helped them escape?"
"Yes, he has
an unblemished record, he’s a good officer by all accounts and everyone says
that he has been Tom’s best friend for years. I can’t believe he would have
helped Tom unless he truly believed it was in Tom’s best interests. I have asked
Captain Picard to represent Harry Kim in his Court Martial and he has agreed."

"Do you really
think Tom and this Chakotay are the victims of a conspiracy then?"

"I don’t know
Jeanette, perhaps I just can’t face the thought that Tom is insane. But it doesn’t
matter what I think, all that matters now is the truth."
"And the truth
shall set you free" I murmured
"Hopefully
the truth will set Tom and Chakotay free." Mother replied with a sad smile.

"And if it
turns out that the official version is the truth?"
"Then we go
with your father’s plan." She replied grimly.
I shivered at the
look of determination on her face. Mother would save Tom at any cost, I had
no doubt of that, and the only question was whether his husband would survive
the ‘rescue’.
 

HARRY
I was wetting myself,
well not literally but pretty damn close.
I hadn’t stopped
to consider the consequences of my actions. In the heat of the moment I had
just done the only thing that seemed right. It was only as Tom and Chakotay
dematerialized and I found myself surrounded by security officers, still clinging
onto Tuvok’s legs, that the enormity of my ‘crime’ hit me.
I know that I immediately
let go and froze, so it was completely unnecessary for them to have beaten me
up so badly. Then they threw me in the brig and it was only Commander Sisko’s
personal outrage that finally got me medical treatment for several broken ribs
and a smashed jaw.
Since Dr Bashir
was also under arrest, his visit was efficient but quiet. Several decidedly
unfriendly Starfleet security officers closely observed his ministrations and
I had no chance to ask him whether Tom and Chakotay had actually managed to
get off the station.
So only the way
in which Commodore Benson then endlessly interrogated me told me that they had
escaped. Although no one would tell me anything, the very fact that he was being
so abusive spoke volumes.
He worked on me
for hours, demanding to know when I had joined the Maquis and how much Chakotay
had paid me to aid his kidnapping of Tom.
I actually laughed
at first, unable to believe that they had interpreted the events so badly. Several
hours later I wasn’t laughing, I was terrified. The Commodore had finally given
me the official version of Tom and Chakotay’s relationship.
Neither the Captain
nor Tuvok had actually lied. Every single word of their report was true but
they had slanted all of the facts to suit their own theories. So the truth had
become the most horrendous lie, more so because it was so believable.

And if you accepted
their interpretation of the events then my actions were indefensible. And evidently
nobody believed a word that I had to say.
I was screwed,
completely and absolutely. I would spend the rest of my life in jail.

But I didn’t regret
my actions. My terror was not for myself; it was for Tom and Chakotay. I had
always said that I would give my life for Tom, my freedom seemed a small price
to pay in comparison.
The problem was
that there was no where they could go. No matter how far or fast they ran, Starfleet
would eventually find them and there was no doubt in my mind that Chakotay would
never get the chance to give his side of the story.
I was facing a
court martial, which was terrifying enough, particularly since I had been informed
that a furious Admiral Paris was on his way to attend.
But no one was
suggesting that Chakotay would be brought to trial. They spoke of him as though
he was a mad dog who would be tracked and ‘put down’.
And then, what
the hell would happen to Tom?
 

CHAKOTAY
There was once
a mystic belief in phenomena called ley-lines. They were magnetic routes between
sites of holy relics. It was said that the huge stones of Stonehenge in England
and the Pyramids in Giza were moved by tapping into the energy of these so-called
ley-lines and channeling the energy.
In the years I
spent away from my people, I delved into a lot of ancient beliefs. Not in a
search for enlightenment but in a skeptical way. Each new religion or mystic
belief I found and discounted was a justification for my mockery of my own people’s
spirituality.
In that far-off
lonely time between Chinook and Angel, I filled the empty void of my heart with
the bitter dissection and destruction of dozens of ancient beliefs.

So, I was uncertain
why the thought of ley-lines came springing into my head as I sat on the floor
next to Tom’s bunk. I had been badly shaken by his mention of "Passamaquoddy".
It had given me the same dizzying disorientation as deja vu.
I had finally embraced
my father’s beliefs and accepted my spirit guide, but I had done it with conscious
skepticism. I had never actually believed in the spirit world. I saw my spirit
walks as a form of meditation. My spirit guide was just the voice of my sub-conscious.
My talks with Kolopak were just a way of reconciling my own inner doubts. I
had never encountered anything in my spirit plane that wasn’t already in my
own mind.
The spirits did
not have any true existence. They were spiritual mumbo-jumbo. A DreamQuest was
just a meditative tool.
And yet, Tom had
mentioned "Passamaquoddy" and the minute I had heard the word I had
been transported back to that moment in DS9 when he had attacked Angel and the
world had shifted and I had seen him not as Tom but as a vengeful raptor.

Careful not to
wake Tom, I had tapped into the ship’s computer and had run a search on the
word. The first results only confused me further. The Passamaquoddy were a native
Indian tribe who had lived in the Maine area of Northern America. They had no
connection to my people or Tom’s. Furthermore, I knew that I had definitely
never heard of them. Therefore they should not have appeared in my spirit walk,
if it was truly only a meander through my own head.
There HAD to be
an explanation. Some sub-conscious connection. I continued to scroll through
the database. Kolopak had described Passamaquoddy as an individual, not a race
of people.
And when I finally
found the reference, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck quiver and goosebumps
shivered along my arms.
"PASSAMAQUODDY
– Also known as the Thunderbird. A mythical creature in the form of a huge eagle.
Said to have been created out of the body of a brave young warrior who was put
in a large mortar and pounded until all of his bones were broken and then molded
into the Thunderbird, maker of lightning. See also Wochowsen."

I followed the
reference numbly
"WOCHOWSEN,
mortal enemy of Passamaquoddy. Before the advent of Passamaquoddy, Wochowsen
was the most beautiful and powerful of the spirits. He was the controller of
the wind and worshipped by all. But the Thunderbird made lightening and charmed
Wochowsen’s admirers into worshipping him instead. Insanely jealous of Passamaquoddy,
Wochowsen sent his damaging winds to prevent Passamaquoddy from ever returning
home, and Passamaquoddy was battered mercilessly by the storms Wochowsen released
against him."
So I simply sank
onto the floor by Tom’s bed, shaken to the core by the co-incidences, as I considered
the storms that were indeed gathering to assault us.
If Tom WAS Passamaquoddy,
then presumably Wochowsen was Angel.
But who was I?

And as I considered
the convergence of we three, the inexorable forces that had driven us innocently
into a melting pot in which we would perhaps all be destroyed, I thought of
ley-lines. Perhaps none of us had chosen our paths. Perhaps we had all been
drawn along irresistibly towards a final battleground.
I could almost
see the dark forces gathering around us like vultures and my heart was filled
with despair.

Part 51 

ANGEL
By the time I woke
up in sickbay, it was all over. Tom had stolen my ship and not satisfied with
that theft he had also taken Chakotay with him.
I had known all
along that Tom was dangerous but I had never imagined that he would have come
back to steal my beloved. I had been so sure that he was on his way to a long
stay in a mental hospital that I had stupidly let down my guard.

Since I had Heran
diplomatic immunity, I had been able to pass straight through the queues during
the disembarking of Voyager’s crew and had met a very helpful Starfleet officer,
a Commodore Benson, who had quickly grasped the details of my problem. He had
assured me that my ship could be impounded long enough for any rescue attempt
by Chakotay to be futile.
I was not naïve
enough to imagine that Benson was being helpful for any particularly selfless
reason, there had been an unhealthy glee in his eyes at the thought of circumventing
Chakotay’s plans. I suspected that there was some ‘history’ between the two
men.
However, it didn’t
matter WHY he helped me, as long as he did.
Captain Janeway
had assured me that Admiral Paris was no more likely to let Chakotay near his
son than he would ever get off his fat butt and leave Earth. I knew that if
I could only delay Chakotay f4 ho4 hours or so, he would never get the chance
to see Tom again. I would commiserate with him, stand by him as he argued futiley
with the authorities and then finally would return with him to Dorvan.

Like with any other
dangerous addiction, his period of withdrawal would be painful but after enough
time passed, Tom would just be a shadowy memory and Chakotay would turn back
to me, where he belonged.
Except the little
bastard had come back.
The only comforting
factor was that Tom had been so ill and frail, his apparent strength merely
a symptom of feverish insanity, that I suspected he would be incapable of any
more acts of desperate bravado. He had attacked me, and my cursed Heran genes
had forced me to quail under his puny blows when all I wanted to do was tear
the little thief limb from limb.
Chakotay was mine.

I was horrified
to discover that Chakotay had left with him, but not surprised. Tom had appealed
yet again to Chakotay’s sense of honor. He had reminded him publicly that he
had promised to marry him and had forced my beloved to accept his responsibilities.
Chakotay didn’t love Tom. It wasn’t possible that he could love Tom. Tom was
just playing on Chakotay’s emotions, confusing him, wearing down his resistance
until he didn’t know WHAT he wanted.
Chakotay might
THINK he loved Tom, but the truth was that he loved ME and it was about time
I reminded him that he made promises to me too.
I was pretty damned
sure where they were going. Chakotay was a pack animal. In times of crisis he
would cleave back to his family for protection. With Starfleet snapping inexorably
at his heels he would inevitably flee to Dorvan.
Without my ship
I couldn’t follow him yet but that didn’t mean I was helpless. There were a
couple of calls I could make.
Firstly, to Hera.
My government was already smarting with indignation at the way the "normals"
had treated us in the past. Now the Federation had granted us their protection,
there were many diplomatic moves to trade with us for our superior technology.
The fact that a "normal" had broken a solemn oath to one of her citizens
would be sufficient spur to get a ship full of angry Heran ambassadors to come
to my aid.
Dozens of Starfleet
ships were already fanning out to locate the runaways. By the time he was located
on Dorvan and arrested, I would make sure that we were already in orbit ready
to take him away.
By that time he
might welcome the opportunity to escape with me. And if not, well, in view of
the current Starfleet anger towards "Chakotay - the Maquis Terrorist"
it would not be difficult for Hera to demand that he was handed over to our
government, especially if we offered sufficient "technological" sweeteners.

And because I was
determined this time not to underestimate the insidious treachery of Tom Paris,
my second call would be to Dorvan. I had prepared a transcript of the events
leading to Chakotay and Tom’s so-called marriage. I would include all of the
damning medical evidence of Tom’s evident insanity and would take care to point
out that he was the son of the hated Admiral Owen Paris, one of the men responsible
for the Peace Treaty that had destroyed their lives.
Surely Chakotay’s
family would understand how dangerous Tom Paris was to Chakotay. Besides, a
closed-planet like Hera was the only place where he would be safe from Starfleet’s
wrath.
In a way, I was
grateful to Tom. I had imagined that Chakotay would accept the commission he
had been offered and would remain in Starfleet. Although that was a better option
in my opinion than his previous dangerous Maquis existence, it still would have
meant that we were frequently parted. Chakotay would never voluntarily settle
down in one place and play happy families.
With the events
that Tom precipitated, Chakotay had run out of choices. He was a hunted fugitive
and I held the only "get out of jail" card.
So I had happily
signed a ratification of Captain Janeway’s official version of events on Voyager.
Fully aware that I was condemning my beloved to the vilification of Starfleet.

When everything
was over, when he was safe with me on Hera, I was positive he would finally
understand and forgive me.
 

TOM
I was woken by
the gentlest of kisses and opened my eyes happily to see Chakotay’s face hovering
inches from mine, his brown eyes soft but strly hly haunted.
"Chak?"
I whispered with concern, "What’s wrong?"
But he flashed
me a smile full of white teeth and dimples.
"Nothing,
honey, it’s just that we are approaching Dorvan and I need to fix a geosynchronous
orbit and contact my people, only I didn’t want you to wake up alone."

I smiled happily.
He had promised to stay with me and he had kept the promise. I had gotten so
used to broken promises that even this small example of caring filled me with
blissful contentment.
"I love you"
I assured him fiercely "go do whatever you have to do."

"Will you
be okay?" He asked and again his concern lit a small fire of happiness
in my heart.
"Sure, Chak."

"I’ve prepared
some lunch for you, Tomato Soup!" He said "Please try and eat it,
you need to start looking after yourself more."
"And if I
don’t, will you hold my nose and force me?" I joked
His eyes grew misty
as he remembered that day. It seemed so long ago now. So much had happened since
then, So much had changed.
"If I have
to" He replied, his eyes flashing appreciation of my admittedly weak attempt
at humour.
"Nah, I’ll
be good" I promised "Then I’m going to grab the head and then try
and look a bit more presentable before we beam down." I said bravely, trying
to mask the fresh terror I felt at the thought of meeting his family.

As though he could
read my mind, he smiled softly and kissed the tip of my nose in his usual show
of affection
"It’s going
to be alright, Tom. I told you my family will love you!" He assured me

"Have we been
followed?"
"No, but now
we are back in normal space it won’t take long for sensors to pick us up. I
need to arrange our asylum quickly."
"Go on then,"
I shooed him away "I’ll be fine!"
He hesitated, unconvinced
by my assurances but all too aware of the need for haste, and then he disappeared
into the front of the ship.
I looked at the
soup and my empty stomach growled with excitement but as I approached the small
table, the smell made me suddenly nauseous. The very thought of eating made
me gag. It wasn’t like my normal depressive refusal to eat; somehow it was more
like a subconscious warning that my fast needed to continue for a little longer.

But the thought
was far too nebulous to explain to Chakotay and the last thing I wanted to do
was cause him more worry.
So, carefully,
all too aware of the need to make Chakotay happy, I tiptoed to the head and
flushed the soup away. Then I replaced the dirty bowl back on the table as evidence
that I had eaten before returning to the tiny bathroom to clean myself up.

 

CHAKOTAY
After showing Neelix
how to operate the strange Heran reverse thrusters, I nipped back to check on
Tom. He was locked in the tiny bathroom and I could hear the merry splashing
of water so I decided he was safe.
I glanced at the
table and saw the empty bowl. My enormous relief that Tom had finally managed
to eat was short-lived. Unless Tom had decided to start lapping soup like a
dog, he hadn’t eaten the soup at all. The spoon was still as shiny and bright
as it had been when I placed it in the exact position it was still in.

Since I knew Tom
was as fastidious as a cat about his eating habits, the only explanation was
that he had thrown the soup away.
My first instinct
was to batter down the bathroom door and confront him. My second, and hopefully
wiser, reaction was to pretend I hadn’t noticed. Tom was too fragile to deal
with any confrontation, even one that was fuelled only by concern.

When we got down
to the surface, when we had time to talk, then I would deal with what was, to
be honest, only one symptom of his illness.
So I cleared his
plate away and tidied up until I felt calm enough to face the others and then
I steeled myself to make the call to my family that would either save us or
set us running once more.
 

JEAN-LUC

 

"So what do
you think of them?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant.
Deanna ran a pensive
hand through her long black curls before replying.
"That’s a
difficult question to answer. They are all quite charming, particularly Jacqueline."

I smiled at her
tact, and yes, Jacqueline Paris was a remarkably likable woman. She had charm,
intelligence and beauty. To be truthful she was a gorgeous now as she had been
30 years ago when I had first been swept off my feet by her allure.

"And the girls?"
I prompted
"Jeanette
is like her mother, Elisabeth has more of her father’s tendencies I believe.
They are, however, both lovely youomenomen."
"And what
about Owen?"
Deanna frowned.

"Despite the
way he has treated Tom in the past, he has a genuine urge to save him now. He
truly seems repentant but he is a ruthless man. He has decided that Tom is ill
and that Chakotay is a criminal and he is not interested in any actual facts."

"You say that
as though you don’t believe it yourself."
"Jacqueline
doesn’t believe it, and she strikes me as a remarkably astute woman."

"Well, we
will soon find out. We will be at DS9 in a few hours."
"I would like
to attend your interview with Ensign Kim, if I may."
"I had every
intention of requesting your presence, Deanna" I confirmed with a smile.

"You seem
remarkably calm, Jean-Luc."
"That’s a
strange thing to say." I said with a quelling frown which she chose to
ignore.
&;Is ;Is it?"
She asked, her black eyes boring into my soul until I felt myself flush.

"I promised
I would never interfere. Right or wrong I have never broken that promise. Owen
is a hard man, but he is Jacqueline’s husband and Tom’s father."

"Tom didn’t
get his receding hairline from Owen Paris." Deanna snapped irritably

"No but he
got his name, his upbringing and his security."
"Some security.
Tom grew up never understanding why he could never please Owen, never knowing
why he had to ‘learn’ to be a Paris. You should have stepped in before."

"I wanted
to. After Caldik Prime I begged Owen and Jacqueline to release me from my promise.
They refused. "
"Jacqueline
regrets that now."
"Owen regrets
the way he has treated Tom all along. Blood is important, Deanna but FAMILY
is not just blood, it’s shared experiences. An adopted child is no less family
than a child of your body is. Love and nurturing make a child your own. Owen
IS Tom’s father."
"He didn’t
remember that when Tom was sent to Auckland."
I shivered as I
remembered my own impotent rage at Tom’s sentence.
"He had Tom
released onto Voyager. It’s not his fault that the mission went so badly wrong."

"No"
Deanna agreed reluctantly, "But what about you Jean-Luc? Are you going
to just stand by again and let Owen make the decisions?"
I was quiet for
a long time, looking at the faded cherished picture in my hands, the only picture
I had of the son I had agreed to give up before he was even born.

"No,"
I finally admitted. "Not this time."
 

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to Part 52