It was the silence that caught B'Elanna's attention as she walked into engineering for her shift.

Quiet. She glanced around the engine room warily. Her engineers were hard at work, as usual--

B'Elanna was in some ways a hard chief, but she had never, even on her worst days, made her engine room like this. The hum of her engines was the only sound--no chatter, no laughter, no muted curses at computer glitches and work-around solutions that failed at exactly the wrong moment as they always, always did.

She looked for Carey, and found him and Sue near the main computer station, hovering over--something. She saw Carey glance back, seeing her, then the blue-green gaze flick to the left. Significantly. From the corner of her eye, she saw the hilt of a phaser, and her disbelieving eyes crawled up the owner of the body.

{Security.} She glanced quickly around the desperately quiet room, up to the catwalk, casually around the workstations--and noted the quiet nervousness of her staff. The security personnel stationed around her engine room as if--

{They know.} She did an automatic mental count--she was running on autopilot--six officers.

She looked to her office and was not surprised to see Tuvok already waiting, in that utterly impassive, cool way only Vulcans could manage, as if he'd been waiting forever and would continue to wait until the end of time--or a certain chief engineer slunk in. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she made the slow journey to her door, eyes fixed on the tall dark shape of the head of security.

She could almost feel the eyes of her engineers on her, watching her progression. Every click of her boot seemed to echo even above the hum of the engines.

Click.

Click.

Click.

"Commander?" She came to a stop before him, noting the PADD in one dark hand, the way he stood at perfect, Starfleet issue attention. "What the hell is going on, Tuvok?" Her hands shook at her sides and she clasped them behind her to still them.

"Lieutenant Torres." His crisp inflection grated on her sensitized nerves. "The Captain has assigned a security detail to engineering for the retrieval of the Delta Flyer's computer core and to oversee the study of the diagnostic programs." He extended the PADD and she took it numbly. Glanced down at it.

"You think someone in Engineering did it?" Somehow, she made it to her chair, PADD still clasped tightly in one hand. With infinite care, she placed it on the desk, clasping her hands beneath the desk to hide their trembling.

"We do not know that anyone 'did it', Lieutenant." Dimly, she thought he looked pained at the thought. "However, it seems wise to make sure that, if there is a perpetrator, he or she does not have free access to the Delta Flyer's computer core if and when it is retrieved."

B'Elanna stared at him. She wasn't--yet--under investigation. Her department was. Because of her.

"You assigned security to engineering to watch my engineers--you have armed security stationed in my engineering room--because you *suspect* that someone here could have possibly tried to kill Tom?" She heard her voice picking up heat, her hands clenching in her lap, out of his view.

"Lieutenant--" She was on her feet before he could begin to finish the statement.

"What the hell are you *doing*? Announcing to the entire ship that you suspect my department of conspiracy to commit murder?"

Saying it made it a hell of a lot more concrete than B'Elanna really wanted to think about right now--though one glance out her office window told her that the fact was already in progress--and she'd done it.

B'Elanna couldn't think to be relieved for herself--she could only see her engineers, working silently--Carey's stiff expression--Sue's pale face--and the blue of her warp core in the background, the only thing to be heard in what should have been a room full of life.

Tuvok's eyebrow twitched, and she thought the corners of his mouth turned down.

"Every precaution must be taken, Lieutenant."

"You call this a precaution?" B'Elanna stood up, walking to the door, hitting the control panel so the door closed, shutting off their conversation from public consumption. "This isn't a precaution--you've just assumed the guilt of someone in my department. You've--" B'Elanna heard her breath begin to come faster, harder, and she came face to face with the impassive Vulcan. "You've put my department under surveillance for something that you can't prove happened, that there is only circumstantial evidence to corroborate--you don't even have a fucking suspect!"

Tuvok, to his credit, didn't wince.

"Lieutenant, please control yourself--"

"You want control--I'll *show* you control." B'Elanna slammed down the PADD she'd been clutching with one hand onto the edge of her desk. "If you have one piece of hard evidence to implicate someone in my department, I want you to produce it *now*. Otherwise, get the hell out!"

Her breath puffed into the general area of Tuvok's neck, and both clenched hands were at her sides. She watched muscles tighten in Tuvok's jaw as he looked down at her. It felt good to let go. Finally.

God, she needed a target, preferably someone non-omnipotent and breakable.

"There is sufficient evidence to merit an investigation--"

"Investigate, then!" She spat, spinning to the door, hitting the control to open it. "Your authority is over the retrieval of the computer core in cargo bay one. If you want to put security around Harry and I as we start getting it out, fine. But harassing my engineers is *not* in Starfleet procedure!"

"These are the Captain's orders, Lieutenant. She wants every aspect of the conditions surrounding the explosion of the Delta Flyer examined, including the diagnostic programs that failed to catch the microfissure in the power relay."

B'Elanna didn't move, barely breathed.

"The Captain authorized a takeover of engineering?" B'Elanna whispered. She could hear her engineers behind her, the whispers, feel the eyes that didn't want to see public fall-out between two senior officers--and somewhere in her she *knew* this was a bad idea, that you don't show dissension in the senior staff to the crew--

Somehow, she was pretty sure that trust was already eroded. But they sure as hell didn't need to watch a public falling-out between two of the most senior officers of the ship.

Tuvok looked pained by her wording.

"This is not a 'takeover', Lieutenant Torres. Captain Janeway has authorized security to oversee the projects in engineering that pertain to the investigation, nothing. I am following her orders."

B'Elanna drew in a deep breath, then turned to see Carey's eyes drop back down to his work with an intense concentration that was as visible as an open wound.

"Lieutenant Carey." Her sharp voice was clearly audible throughout the engine room.

She saw his back stiffen before his eyes raised to meet hers--or meet around her forehead, anyway. She bit back the words that bubbled to her lips and consciously relaxed her hands at her side.

He wasn't a target.

"Yes, Chief?" He took a step toward her, Nicoletti at his heels--to protect him?

"You have engineering, Carey." She turned to Tuvok. "Let me make this clear, Commander--if even *one* of your officers interfere with procedure, I will throw every damned one of you out of engineering personally." Before Tuvok could reply, she turned away, heading for the nearest turbolift.

* * * * *

Tom sank carefully into a seat in the Messhall and tried to look dejected. It was pretty easy, actually, with all the suspicions spinning madly in his head, but he kept his face controlled and picked at the sandwich he'd replicated.

Somehow, peanut butter and jelly wasn't as appetizing in fact as it was in theory. He pulled off a piece of crust, arranging it at one side of his plate.

He'd noted, as he came in, the sudden, darting glances that disappeared just as quickly, the conversations that came to a mysterious hush or became ostentatiously louder on a far too general topic when he was within hearing range.

{Sabotage. I've got to check the general logs--did we have another Seska on board?} He tried not to consider the other possibility, though it was the most likely, considering Janeway's nicely-phrased, beautifully rendered half-truths half-truths.

Oddly enough, that made things a little more normal. He'd spent his first two years on Voyager knowing there were more than a few people who would be interested in seeing him with his internal organs in a new and creative pattern--preferably in a deserted hall somewhere without a communicator--and a very few he was reasonably certain would like to be the ones to do it. But certainly, those few had, if not ever learned to like him (and since he could say with certainty he disliked them, this was not a problem), at least called an informal ceasefire.

That was an interesting--and disturbing--thought. He mentally reviewed the logs he'd gone through and decided he had not--at least, not that he had written down. He picked another piece of crust off his sandwich and wondered when Neelix was going to notice his obvious and carefully constructed distress and patter over to boost his morale.

"Tom?" The kind voice was extremely welcome and Tom had to clench his teeth together to avoid a grin.

Unhappiness was a magnet to the Talaxian. Thank God.

"Yeah, Neelix?" He kept his voice low, head down, picked another piece of crust off his sandwich. Made as if to eat it, instead regarded it with his most soulful look before setting it down on the plate again, neatly stacked beside the first two.

Neelix hovered for a minute at his left shoulder, as if unsure of what to do, then Tom heard him wiping his hands clean on his apron and took the seat across from him.

"Is something wrong, Tom?" Neelix's eyes flickered through the Messhall before coming back quickly to look into Tom's. As if he didn't want to draw attention to the whispered conversations, the curious eyes.

{Sorry, Neelix, it's noticeable.} He shook his head slowly, then let out a long sigh.

"I don't know--maybe everything is catching up to me." He looked steadily at a spot on the table that resembled a small nebula. "I just--I don't know. I don't feel as if I'm at home..." he trailed off suggestively, knowing Neelix would fill in the blank with little effort on his part.

"That's understandable, Tom. I can't tell you how many people I've seen in my life with a condition such as yours." {Really? I'm part of a number of people who lose their lives over exploding ships? That's interesting.} "I remember one time well, on the Vizaran homeworld--" Tom let the voice drone on, keeping his eyes on the table, for lack of anything else to do listening to Neelix's story and doing quantum mechanic calculations by turns, until he heard Neelix begin to wind down. "And I can see in you what I saw in him. The same isolation--"

"Yeah, I've noticed that--isolation." Tom lifted his eyes, meeting the Talaxian's, quick to pounce at the unexpected opening. "Was I such a terrible guy?"

Neelix paused, and the eyes flickered around the room again before he answered.

"No, of course not--just as popular as always." The false cheer in Neelix's voice completely killed the lie in that statement. From his logs, Tom had noted a definite decrease in his socialization with the crew. "But it's been awkward for a lot of people, not knowing what to say to you--" Neelix trailed off then, obviously searching for words.

Or a good lie that could pass for the truth, anyway.

"I can understand that," Tom answered. "I suppose that explains why Harry and B'Elanna are avoiding me." It was a calculated risk.

Neelix's face flushed abruptly, something Tom could not remember ever seeing in his acquaintance with the Talaxian, and blinked at it. Suddenly fidgeting with the ties of his apron, head turning to look for another lost soul to comfort-- {Or a miracle. That was malicious, Tommy boy.}

It felt good to be a little mean sometimes, though. Tom waited, giving Neelix enough time to *almost* get his composure back, before testing the waters again.

"Of course, the investigation could be interfering," Tom continued blithely, and was treated to the interesting spectacle of seeing a Talaxian actually twitch.

"W-wh-"

"I know there's an investigation, Neelix." Jump in full force, hope the shock was enough to make him honest. Tom sat back in his chair, knowing he was ready for the kill. "They think someone try to kill me."

The color drained from Neelix's face so abruptly that Tom was propelled forward, suddenly worried Neelix would pass out where he sat. Gently, he took the other man's arm.

"The Captain--"

"Has no idea of the power of rumor."

Neelix sighed, slumping into his chair.

"I suppose that the security in engineering must have caught your attention. I'm sorry, Tom. I think the Captain should have told you herself, but--"

Tom knew the blood had drained from his face, and knew equally well that Neelix saw it. Then the brown eyes shot down to his arm, and Tom realized he's tightened his grip. Making an effort, he loosened it.

"You didn't know," Neelix whispered. Tom leaned forward, meeting brown with blue.

"Tell me everything, Neelix. I need to know now. Do they suspect B'Elanna?"

* * * * *

Lieutenant Susan Nicoletti picked up the diagnostic report and finished her additions, glancing at Carey as she did so. The older man was pale, and she noted how his fingers trembled on the touchpads.

His mind wasn't in engineering at all.

"Joe?" She kept her voice low.

Carey jerked around, eyes flickering between Sue and the security guard stationed at the door.

"I finished the analysis." She handed him the PADD, and he took it from her, almost jerking it from her hands in his haste and gave it a cursory glance before he stopped, staring down at the notations she'd made. His expression tightened, a frown creasing his forehead as he read. She let him finish the whole document, watching his face.

"Sue, are you sure about this?" He scrolled back up to the top and she watched him skim the report again, pausing whenever he saw something of interest.

And there were many things of interest in this report.

"I checked three times and co-ordinated with Ensign Kim's report and Ensign Paris'," she answered. "I'm going to ask permission of Lieutenant Torres to download all of Ensign Kim's original coding for the primary diagnostics--but unless there's been a serious computer error, everything--" Carey cut her off, and she saw his eyes dart behind her. She felt herself stiffen, not needing verbal confirmation of what he wanted. It was in his eyes.

It was a moment Sue would remember for the rest of her life.

Sue Nicoletti had been raised Starfleet, had served on several starships before being assigned to Voyager, in war and out of it, during hostilities and during peace. She'd served under paranoid Captains, lackadaisical Captains, and nosy Captains. She'd served under Captain Janeway now for six years, through the nightmarish years of the Kazon, the Borg, and the Vi'idians. She remembered Seska's betrayal.

She'd never, however, felt so vulnerable. She'd never felt the bite of paranoia so keenly through the uniform she was so proud to wear.

When she and Carey had come in early to finish the examination of the diagnostic program, security was already there. Tuvok's concise explanation had been--reasonable. There was a possible saboteur on Voyager, and precautions must be taken to assure that this person did not have free access to any of the evidence.

It said something, that their Chief hadn't been informed before the occupation took place. It said something, that their work no longer went just to B'Elanna, but also a copy was given directly to Tuvok and the Captain, under the Captain's orders. It said something that the Captain's personal authorization was required to access the ruins of the Delta Flyer in cargo bay one.

It said something when Joe Carey, as Starfleet as she was, from the top of his head to the soles of his issue boots, cut her off in the middle of a report because in their own engine room, there were ears to listen to them that weren't their own. That those ears were--suspicious.

Sue had heard the rumors. But until this moment, she hadn't believed them. There was only one person in engineering who would have possibly had a motive to try to kill Lieutenant Paris.

* * * * *

Tom wondered, not for the first time, how the hell he had gotten so damned many holodeck rations--and why his access was so damned simple. Unless this was Janeway's oh so subtle method of keeping him occupied in case he started to ask uncomfortable questions.

At least no one had the bright idea to assign security to watch him.

"Computer, display all information pertinent to the Delta Flyer as of this day."

:::Access is restricted.:::

"Display all information, authorization Paris Pi Beta One Three."

Tom watched the Delta Flyer appear and pulled out his tricorder.

"Computer, load all information regarding the investigation of the explosion Delta Flyer."

:::Access is restricted.:::

"Load all information regarding the investigation, authorization Paris Pi Beta One Three." {If at first you don't succeed--}

"Access is restricted.:::

Tom let out a frustrated breath.

"To whom?"

:::Access is restricted to Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok.:::

Tom grinned a little and connected the tricorder to the command console of the holodeck. Carefully, he began the decryption sequence.

{There's something to be said for being the only son of a Starfleet admiral.} If there was one thing he had learned to do almost before he learned to walk, he knew how to break codes.

The tricorder, loaded with his very illegal decryption program, began to hum.

Tuvok's reports were the first to come up, and Tom quickly loaded them onto the PADDs he had brought with him.

Two of his questions answered almost immediately. The suspect list. Painfully short and to the point, and Tom took a moment to recover from seeing their names.

Tom carefully placed the tricorder on the floor, closing his eyes.

"B'Elanna." A whisper.

His former lover, his best friend, and his wife, all on a suspect list. The motives, neatly typed by each name, the corresponding evidence. {Tuvok does thorough work. Gotta give him credit for that.}

Tom tried to breathe.

Tom took a moment to digest the concept of Seven of Nine {Seven Paris.} wanting children.

He remembered Harry's fascination with the Borg, and wondered, for the first time, what had been going through his mind when he began a relationship with Seven.

Everything he knew of them--his only reference was memories from two years ago, where so much had changed. And his memories of himself, two years outdated.

He evened his breathing, bringing himself under tight control in an action as automatic for him as thinking, and prepared himself to find out what had happened.

* * * * *

The doors to Engineering opened and B'Elanna stepped through, eyes flickering to see her officers, her crew, and Sue watched the dark brown rest on Carey for an eternal moment.

"I'm calling a department meeting at 1100 hours," she said as she came to Carey's side. "Inform the staff." Her glance went to the PADD still clutched in his hand, and Carey, without hesitation, handed it to her. Brown eyes flickered down the report, and then came up to Sue, widening. "In my office, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." Sue felt her hands tremble and wiped off the sweat that was beading there on her pants. She followed B'Elanna, glancing back at Carey, but the older man was already moving to a workstation. Once in the office, B'Elanna pressed the door shut and sat down, still staring down at the report.

"Explain this." B'Elanna's gesture encompassed the entirety of the PADD.

"I completed the calculations on the primary diagnostic, Lieutenant. There seems to be some irregularities in the code."

B'Elanna glanced back down, then the brown eyes went back up, narrowing a little, though Sue knew that whatever burned there, it wasn't directed at her. She breathed a little easier.

"Did you check the blend of Ensign Kim's additions and the original code?" B'Elanna asked, scrolling randomly, picking out facts. Sue could see her engineer's brain turning.

Yes, Chief, from Ensign Paris' and Ensign Kim's original reports," Sue answered. "Neither of them found anything to account for the failure to catch the problem on the Flyer--but I did find this." And Sue extended another PADD. Frowning, B'Elanna took it, then glanced sharply into the woman's face.

"This wasn't found by Ensign Paris?" she asked. Sue shrugged and at an inclination of the Lieutenant's head took the seat across from her.

"There's no mention of it made in her report, nor in Ensign Kim's, Chief." Sue shrugged again. "Its a small code discrepancy, but I think that it could have caused the failure on the primary diagnostic run when they were run the second time. The only thing it wouldn't explain is the lack of a log entry for the original run that caught the problem."

"On a long-shot," B'Elanna answered absently. "It would need to be interacting with another program for that to go into effect." Seeing the blank expression on Sue's face, B'Elanna smiled a little. "I remember when Harry asked me about this coding--the primary diagnostics are sensitive--they can't be run when any other independent program on the Flyer is also activated or it skews the results." B'Elanna shut down the PADD. "I'll talk to Harry about it when he comes on after half a shift on the Bridge."

"Lieutenant," Sue said slowly, and B'Elanna looked at her to see her face set. "Permission to speak freely?"

That she had to say it that way, that she couldn't even just come out and tell her commanding officer what she had heard--it hurt. B'Elanna's mouth twitched but she nodded.

"Permission granted. What's wrong, Sue?"

"Is it true?"

B'Elanna leaned back.

"Is what true?"

"Is it true that Commander Tuvok suspects someone tried to murder Lieutenant Paris?"

B'Elanna's hands tightened on the PADD and Sue felt herself instinctively recoil from the look on B'Elanna's face.

"Not exactly. Tuvok is investigating the possibility, that's all. A security team is on hand to watch the retrieval of the computer core on the Flyer, Sue."

Sue shifted, hands twisting together in her lap, trying to get the words out. Finally, she did.

"I've heard rumors, Chief."

"You shouldn't listen to them. I was at the staff meeting yesterday, and Tuvok introduced it only as a possibility." The Lieutenant's voice was brisk. "He's just covering all his bases, Sue." And as if to prove how completely comfortable she was with it, B'Elanna began copying the contents of both Sue's PADDs to her own.

Sue wasn't fooled for a minute.

"Not about the staff meeting--about the Captain's meeting with Ensign Paris and Commander Tuvok afterward."

Sue saw B'Elanna's fingers freeze. Her head came up, staring at Sue.

"What did you hear?" The intensity of the Chief's voice made Sue shiver. She glanced away, then back to the desk.

"That Commander Tuvok has amassed a list of suspects and is investigating each with Ensign Paris." Sue shook her head. "It's just gossip, I know--but everyone feels edgy, Chief. At one time or another, almost all of engineering has worked on the Flyer, and not a few of us--well, with security here, watching us--" she stopped, and B'Elanna waited, knowing there was worse. "Some are saying that--that Commander Tuvok suspects you of sabotaging the Flyer."

B'Elanna blanched.

"No one in Engineering, Chief," Sue was quick to follow up, and she met her Chief's eyes. {I believe in you.} "Everyone knows you'd never do anything--but the rumors are getting specific, that you were the last one in the Flyer before it exploded, that you had opportunity and motive." Sue's shoulders lowered a little.

"What motive?"

Sue's eyes skipped away again, and B'Elanna bit down on her lip sharply.

"It's okay, Sue. I think I can guess." An oddly gentle voice. She stood up, forcing Sue to do the same. She gave Sue the PADDs back, which the woman took with a hand that was none too steady.

"Yes, Lieutenant." Sue took two steps to the door before spinning around, meeting her commanding officer's eyes. "No one in Engineering believes a word of it, Lieutenant. None of us." Simple faith.

B'Elanna smiled and nodded, and Sue, with a tentative smile herself, touched open the door and returned to Carey's side.

B'Elanna didn't move from the door of Engineering.

She scanned the security stationed around Engineering, watched her other engineers work nervously. The darting eyes, the tight mouths--their short glances at her before flitting away, trying so hard to look casual, normal.

B'Elanna knew every Starfleet officer in Engineering was aware that it was *not* standard operating procedure to occupy an entire department. Which was exactly what this was--occupation.

The fact it was being done threw suspicion on its department head, B'Elanna herself. A fact as glaringly obvious as the phasers assigned to each member of the security detail.

"Just imagine what it would be like if they'd actually *found* something suspicious," Q commented. She could feel the heat of him against her back. "Would they even bother with a court-martial or would the Captain simply toss you into the Brig after a short hearing?"

"I'd have a right to a full court-martial," B'Elanna answered absently, then bit down into her lip as the words escaped. "Get away from me. Go torture someone else."

"Well, I know when I'm not wanted." She felt Q disappear and turned around, moving slowly to her desk to pick up the PADDs. Glancing through the preliminary report Sue and Carey had made, then sat down at her workstation to find the ones that Harry and Seven had submitted to the Captain.

Anything to keep her mind occupied for the next hour, before she spoke to her department again. And make explanations she knew would do less than nothing to stop the speculation, the rumors...

She closed her eyes briefly, then pulled up Harry's and Seven's reports and set herself to read.

* * * * *

Tom pulled the last of the information from the database and switched it off, but not before covering his tracks--and he could do that, too. As soon as he was done, he unhooked his tricorder and dropped the PADDs into his bag.

Then paused.

He wasn't sure--he didn't know these people anymore. The only thing he was truly certain of. He didn't know Harry, or Seven, or--or B'Elanna.

He glanced down at the bag. Tuvok's suspicions had evidence, there was no doubt of that. Evidence at very least of B'Elanna making a mistake in the Flyer during the diagnostic run. But if everything else was true--her behavior, which was meticulously noted--her temper--which he could easily Tuvok interpreting as both suspicious and unusually defensive--and those transporter logs--the tricorder--

He walked out the holodeck doors, but not before ending the privacy program and making sure the holodeck logs showed only he had been running the Flyer program--and double checking that his illegal access was not recorded.

Ah, that lovely cynical sense of humor had returned. Tom snorted as the doors closed behind him.

That was a novel thought, and it stopped Tom in the corridor.

Tom tried to imagine circumstances that would make him leave her and simply couldn't. Unless she had betrayed him with someone else--unless she had never cared for him--unless--

Only one person would know for sure, and he wondered how in the name of God he was going to bring up this subject with her. Assuming he had time before Tuvok decided to make a few arrests.

It only took Tom a moment to connect that one.

Tom shook his head slowly.

"Tom?"

He recognized the voice before he lifted his head.

"Sue."

She smiled a little, but her lips trembled, and he noted she was clutching a PADD in one hand.

"How've you been, Tom?"

"Okay." He leaned against the wall, pulling out his best smile, eyes carefully trained on her face. {She's working on the diagnostic program investigation.} He wanted to see what was on that PADD. "And you?"

"Pretty good." He hadn't seen her so uncomfortable in awhile. "I'm--on my way to see the Captain."

"With the latest diagnostic report?"

Her face lost color and she stepped back. Tom gently took her elbow, keeping her gaze locked with his.

"I know, Sue." He waited to let that sink in. "I want you to tell me something."

Sue shook her head quickly, trying to step away, but Tom didn't let her arm go.

"Tom--I can't."

"Do you believe she did it?"

"Tom--"

"Sue--you're my friend. And we've been friends since our first year into this little voyage." He stepped closer so she had to look up. "As friends, Sue, I need you to tell me what's going on--everything you know."

"Tom, I don't know much." She didn't pull away anymore, at least. "I have to submit reports to Lieutenant Torres, Commander Tuvok, and the Captain, on all my work on the study of the diagnostics."

"You and Carey were both assigned to it?"

"Yes, after Seven and Harry came up with nothing to account for the failure."

"Sue, do you believe it?"

Sue didn't move for a second, even to breathe, and his heart stopped.

"No."

Tom gently pried the PADD from her fingers.

"Let me make a copy."

"Tom! That's against procedure--"

"And the Captain and Tuvok have restricted access to all information about the investigation." He left out his adventure in hacking, concentrating all his efforts on convincing her. If he could avoid it, he'd rather not try that illegal downloading again. Too tricky. "Just let me make a copy, Sue. I'm not a suspect--and believe me, I'd like to know the truth as much as anyone." She hesitated. "Sue--please. I swear, I won't do anything with it other than look it over. I'm not an engineer--I can't affect whatever you found. But this is probably the only way I can at least see what happened."

Slowly, reluctantly, Sue nodded, and Tom pulled her into a vacant room off the corridor and quickly began to download the information. She shivered, watching, and he grinned a little as he handed it back. Then squeezed her limp hand.

"This means a lot to me, Sue." And meant it.

Sue went to the door, then hesitated, turning back to him.

"Tom--" she paused, then tried again. "Tom--B'Elanna wouldn't do it. I know she wouldn't. She was--a little upset at the wedding, but--" Sue stopped, and he saw her struggle. "She wouldn't try to kill you. Not her. Not for any reason."

Tom nodded slowly, knowing his mind was already made up. That it had been the minute he read those reports.

"Sue--" he took her gently by the shoulders, looking into her eyes, making sure she knew too. "I know."

* * * * *

"Come." Her voice was strained and she knew it, and there was nothing they taught you in command school that taught you to be impassive when your subordinates were under suspicion for attempted murder.

Quietly, Tuvok entered Captain Janeway's ready room, omnipresent PADD {Does he always have one now?} still clutched in one dark hand, waiting at polite attention until she'd freed her coffee from the replicator and had once again sank down at the chair behind her desk.

"I have the information you asked for, Captain," he told her, extending the PADD. She took it with one hand, glancing down.

"These are the diagnostic reports?" she asked.

"Yes. Lieutenant Nicoletti and Lieutenant Carey examined every line of computer code. They found a few discrepancies I believe you should be aware of."

Janeway's brows arched sharply, and she pressed her mug aside, leaning back in her chair to read first Tuvok's succinct report, then skim Nicoletti's.

"Let me get this straight," Janeway said finally. "There is cause to believe someone deliberately sabotaged the diagnostic program?" Her voice reflected her disbelief, and she motioned Tuvok to take the seat across from her. As he did so, she skimmed the PADD again.

"I do not know if it was deliberate, Captain," Tuvok answered calmly. "However, the flaw is there. If another program was running on the Delta Flyer, the primary diagnostic program would not work."

"This wasn't mentioned in either Harry's or Seven's reports," Janeway countered, eyes still on the tiny screen.

"I am aware of this, Captain." The flatness of his voice brought her head up sharply.

"Tuvok--"

"We cannot afford to leave out any possible suspects."

Janeway shut her eyes briefly, hoping against hope that when she opened them, Tuvok wouldn't be there, telling her this. She rubbed absently at her forehead, then nodded slowly.

"All right." Resigned, she stared at the PADD." But there's no reason for either of them--"

"In the case of Ensign Kim, there is."

Janeway sat up straight.

"What?"

"A crewmember witnessed an altercation between Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim in the corridor outside the Paris' quarters two days before the incident, Captain. According to the witness's statement, the argument grew quite--heated."

"Does this witness know what it was about?"

Tuvok nodded and pulled out a second PADD, placing it in her reluctant hand. She read it briefly, then shook her head.

"Tuvok, this is ridiculous." She skimmed it again, then looked at her chief security officer. "Are you sure she heard correctly?"

"Captain," Tuvok answered, with a voice so filled with Vulcan patience that Janeway ground her teeth to hear it, "you yourself spoke to Ensign Paris that same evening."

Janeway blinked, then the smoky eyes narrowed.

"That conversation, Tuvok, was personal."

Tuvok straightened his already straight Vulcan posture a little more.

"Captain, this investigation takes precedence over personal matters. I must insist on a statement of Ensign Paris' conversation with you regarding her own altercation with Lieutenant Paris."

Janeway's lips tightened, and she stared hard down at her desk, mind far away.

"Seven did not try to kill Tom, Tuvok."

Tuvok gently took the PADD from her limp fingers and turned it on.

"Captain, I must insist, for the integrity of this investigation. Please relate exactly what Ensign Paris confided in you that evening."

Janeway leaned back into her chair. Stared distractedly at the ceiling.

"She and Tom had an argument that afternoon."

"Can you specify the time, Captain?"

Blue eyes narrowed their view on the ceiling, but she responded.

"1600 hours," she answered softly. "Seven had just come off shift..."

* * * * *

"Seven? Is something wrong?"

The tall Borg hovered at her door, uncharacteristically hesitant, before finally placing her foot inside the room and following it within. She paused there a few moments, the stepped forward as Captain Janeway came around her desk, one hand outstretched to her protegee.

"Seven?"

"I am--troubled, Captain," Seven said slowly, and Janeway touched the taller woman's shoulder, gently pointing her in the direction of the couch. After a refusal of something to drink, Seven reluctantly took a seat on the low couch and stared out the viewport for a several seconds, before Janeway caught her attention.

"Seven?"

"Tom and I have had a--disagreement."

Janeway frowned a little.

"In marriages, those are common enough, Seven."

Seven's fingers twisted in her lap briefly, and Janeway alternated glances between the impassive face and the moving hands, before focusing on the former Borg's blue eyes.

"Seven? Tell me what happened."

To her surprise, Seven licked her lips briefly, obviously uneasy and hesitant about what she wished to reveal. Janeway moved to the edge of her chair, catching Seven's eyes. Finally, the other woman spoke.

"We argued over--children, Captain."

"Children?" Janeway knew her voice must have reflected her shock. Seven shook her head briefly.

"Yes."

"What about them?"

Seven swallowed sharply, then the full lips tightened.

"We disagreed on when would be the optimal time to begin procreation."

"Seven, that is not unusual either." Janeway had to wonder exactly what was troubling Seven. "Didn't you discuss this before you were married? When you wanted to have them?"

"Yes. And I am--interested in exploring the possibility."

Janeway tried to think through that. {Seven wants to become a mother. I didn't expect that.}

"But--"

"Tom is not."

"Ah." Janeway nodded slowly. "He isn't ready yet."

Seven turned fully, wide eyes on the Captain now.

"He is not--he told me that at this time he does not feel ready to have children." She paused, and Janeway waited. Seven didn't disappoint her. "When I asked when he would be prepared to consider it, he told me that he did not think it would be in the near future." Seven drew in a breath, and a flash of--something--stabbed across her face. "Perhaps never."

Janeway blinked, considering that. Then searched for the right words, knowing Seven needed them now.

"Seven--he may just need time. You've been married less than two weeks--you both need to become adjusted to being that. I don't think this would be an appropriate time for children to be considered. And over time--" Janeway trailed off. Seven had stiffened and the blue eyes had slipped away again.

"Before we were married, we discussed the possibility of procreation. Tom was willing to--he told me he wished to have children. However, this has changed." Seven shut her eyes briefly and Janeway watched her face grow expressionless again. "When I asked him what had led to this change in him, he could not reply to it." Janeway glanced down to see Seven's fingers digging into the couch.

"Seven--perhaps you simply asked a little soon after marriage." Janeway had to grin at that, and relaxed a little, trying not to smile. "Give him some time, bring it up--well, later. Certainly not now. You're newly married, and doubtless Tom is adjusting. You can't take his answer as final."

"But what if this choice continues?" Seven's jaw tightened, the only visible sign of her distress. "If Tom does not wish for children, I cannot force that on him, no matter my wishes. But--" Seven blinked, eyes going down to the carpet, a surprisingly vulnerable gesture. "I do not know what to do, Captain."

Janeway gently reached over and covered Seven's hand with her own. Hesitantly, the younger woman turned hers over beneath, eyes coming up.

"Let's talk about it, Seven, and I'll try and help you sort this out."

* * * * *

Tuvok touched the PADD off. Janeway turned back around to face him.

"There's nothing in that, Tuvok, but a woman's frustration." She heard the steel in her voice and did not bother to try and modify it.

Tuvok leaned forward a little.

"Captain, this cannot be ignored. Ensign Paris was apparently distressed by Lieutenant Paris' reluctance to consider children..."

"That is not a motive for murder!"

"It could be construed so if Ensign Paris had not yet come to a resolution with Lieutenant Paris," Tuvok answered shortly. "Were there any signs the day preceding the accident of hostility between them?"

Janeway pursed her lips, reluctantly searching her memory.

"Not that I remember, Tuvok." She sighed, shaking her head, and turned completely so she could rest her elbows on her desk. "Tom was preparing for his mission--I'm not sure they even saw each other." Her tacit admission that she knew the night before his scheduled departure, he had not been in his and Seven's quarters. "Tuvok, are you certain that there is an attempted murder to investigate?"

"There is a seventy-percent chance that the accident was intentional, Captain. When you authorized this investigation, you agreed with my reasoning."

"And a thirty percent chance it was not," she countered. "I don't want you to rule out the possibility that this is all just--a coincidence."

Tuvok's brows arched.

"I do not believe in coincidences, Captain." He stood up. "Permission to leave, Captain?"

She waved one hand.

"Permission granted, Commander. And keep me informed of the progress of your investigation."

* * * * *

"Copies of all reports on the status of either the study of the diagnostic program or the retrieval of the computer core are to be submitted to Commander Tuvok and Captain Janeway," B'Elanna told her senior staff steadily.

To them, she looked as at ease and business-like as they had ever seen her. Hands clasped behind her back in professional form, calm and--comforting. In fact, if they hadn't seen her--argument--with Tuvok, her explanation of the reason for security in engineering might have even been reasonable. If there was a saboteur on board, they needed to know about it. If someone had tried to commit murder, that person needed to be caught.

B'Elanna didn't smile, but there was no anger or frustration creasing her face. And they breathed easier because of it.

None of them believed the rumors. Their Chief didn't deserve it. And they left, uncomfortable still with security, but confident.

B'Elanna went into her office and sank down behind her desk, unclenching her hands, studying the half-moons of dark blood that crossed her palms from the bite of her nails.

Then turned to her terminal and quickly typed a brief note to Tom.

Her finger shook a little as she sent it.

"B'Elanna?"

She flattened her hands on the top of her desk and looked up into the familiar face of Harry. {Well, at least it looks like he's gotten some sleep. What happened? Someone sedate him finally?}

She took a moment to notice the lines of strain still etched prematurely on the young face and smiled.

"Harry." She stood up, keeping her palms down. "Are you ready?"

Harry glanced back into engineering, then at her. One eyebrow arched slightly, and she shrugged.

"The Captain wants the retrieval process monitored," she said calmly. The little color Harry had regained disappeared and she watched, frowning a little, as he leaned against the doorway. "It's standard procedure."

"Bullshit. We're suspects?" Harry asked softly. Brown eyes were wide and so dark she could not differentiate between pupil and iris anymore. "What the hell--are--"

"Who knows?" She tapped fingers absently on the wood, and winced when a fingernail broke. "Damn. I knew I should have cut them." She glanced back up at Harry.

"B'Elanna--" Harry stopped, and she watched him swallow hard before returning to his question. Knowing what he would ask. "I don't understand."

"You heard any rumors?" B'Elanna asked softly. Harry shook his head. "That's right, you've been working, you haven't been in the Messhall. There's a lot of speculation that Tuvok has a list of suspects--that I'm on it."

Harry gaped.

"Then with this action--"

"It looks like the Captain's confirming rumors, doesn't it?" B'Elanna sat back and closed her eyes. "I know."

"Have you talked to her?" Harry had half-leaned over her desk.

"Yes. She told me that it seems to be the best way to catch the saboteur--"

"But there's no evidence there is a saboteur!" Harry answered, and B'Elanna raised a brow at the volume of his voice. He sat back, taking a deep breath, visibly bringing himself under control.

"You were at the staff meeting, Harry!" B'Elanna sat down, taking a breath, bringing herself under strict control that couldn't stop the shaking of her hands. She buried them under her desk. "You know as much as I do."

B'Elanna watched Harry's hands begin to shake, watched him take a tight grip on the arms of his chair.

"Harry?" she asked. {What the hell?}

"Not everything. What else did the Captain tell you?" he hissed. She felt herself draw back and nodded slowly, forcing her body to relax.

"Tuvok ran some simulations on the explosion using the facts as Seven and I related them," B'Elanna answered carefully, watching the play of emotion on his face. "There's a seventy-percent chance that the explosion was deliberate."

Harry stood up, walking to the door. His back was to her, and the low voice was so toneless, so flat, that she barely recognized it.

"Who would kill Tom?"

"According to the Captain, there are several people who would have motives," B'Elanna said softly. "More who had opportunity with all the maintenance we did on the Flyer before Tom's aborted mission."

"Everyone in Engineering."

"Everyone in Engineering and Navigation."

Harry turned around sharply.

"Tom's department?" His voice echoed her own private disbelief. "I'd believe that as soon as I'd believe that Chakotay is a Kazon spy." The loyalty of Tom's department was common knowledge.

B'Elanna grinned at that and brushed a stray curl of hair from her face.

"But all of them had access to the Flyer the week before the accident. Tom was drilling them on it days before the accident, and Seven submitted Tom's duty rosters for his personnel. All of them spent several hours, both alone and with Tom, on the Flyer, learning the systems and how to fly her without computer command access."

"Half of Voyager had access the week before the accident!"

"According to duty shifts, only about a third, and only half of those with enough technical expertise."

"Might as well throw Naomi Wildman in there--Tom's been instructing her for a long time." Harry's voice was bitter.

B'Elanna shivered suddenly, absently rubbing circles into her desk with her thumb. She glanced up to see Harry staring over her shoulder, almost as if...

"Harry--?"

Harry blinked, eyes darting back to hers--almost as if he didn't recognize her. His gaze flickered up above her shoulder, then suddenly back down, meeting her eyes this time.

"Harry--to get off this topic, I need to ask you something."

B'Elanna slid the PADD with Sue's report across her desk. Curious, he approached her, picking up the PADD in one hand, reading quickly. Then glanced up.

"You didn't mention the possibility of the primary diagnostic acting up when another program is running on or in close proximity to the Flyer in your report to the Captain."

Harry frowned a little, reading further.

"There wasn't another, except your tricorder, and that wouldn't affect its performance," he answered. "Sorry, B'Elanna, I forgot about that completely. I'll addendum my report to Janeway."

B'Elanna noted how quickly he calmed down. After a few more brief words, he left, carrying a copy of Nicoletti's report in his hand--and B'Elanna, curious, pulled up the schematics of the original diagnostics.

She narrowed her eyes as she read the source code.

But for some reason, the thought stayed with her.

So if there was a detonator, it hadn't been there when they boarded...which meant it had to have gotten on there after. In an approximate three minute window between the first run and the failed second.

A thought stopped her train of thought, and she stared at her door.

* * * * *

"I ask permission to access the personal logs of Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Kim, and Ensign Paris, Captain."

Janeway's gaze flickered between Ayala and Tuvok before she shook her head.

"Not until we've exhausted all our options with the computer core, Mr. Tuvok."

"Captain--"

"I will not invade my crewmembers privacy until you have concrete evidence, Mr. Tuvok!" Janeway found she had risen half out of her seat and forced herself back down. "When the computer core is retrieved and downloaded, and we have all the information on it, then you can take that action. But I want concrete evidence, Mr. Tuvok. What we have now is circumstantial at best."

Tuvok nodded.

"As you wish. However, I have another request."

Janeway sighed.

"Go ahead."

"I would like Lieutenant Paris placed under guard, Captain."

Janeway didn't know what to do with her hands as she gaped at her security officer.

"What?"

Tuvok raised his chin.

"Place the lieutenant under guard, Captain, for his own protection."

To her horror, Janeway heard herself emit a little titter, and stuffed it back behind her teeth before her security officer could do more than stare in blank Vulcan shock.

"Out of the question."

"Captain--"

"If his life was still in danger, the person or persons responsible for that first attempt would have struck already. He isn't a witness--he has no memory of the entirety of the incident."

"Captain--"

"No. That is paranoid, Tuvok." She sighed, shaking her head. "Not that we aren't paranoid enough already. I won't do it."

Tuvok's jaw tightened to her discerning eye, but he made no further mention of it.

"Is that all, Commander?" she asked.

"Tuvok nodded.

"I just received Lieutenant Nicoletti's final report on the diagnostics," Janeway said. "I have a copy here for you to peruse, Commander.' She handed it to him and pushed herself a little from her desk. "Commander Chakotay has been forwarded a copy."

"Very well, Captain."

"Dismissed."

* * * * *

Tom walked back into his quarters and noted his terminal blinking.

Absolutely no surprise, B'Elanna had cancelled.

And he had to smile at that--some things just didn't change. Even now.

He put his bag of ill-gotten gain down and punched in a quick message, grinning as he did so, knowing there was no reason to grin, but unable to help it.

He knew her pretty well after all.

After he was done, he pulled out the PADDs and began to slowly re-read them. Tuvok's suspicions. The records.

Tom could see how Tuvok had been led to these conclusions--the line of evidence was pretty damned good. After Seska, Tom had noted, there was less attention given to benefit of the doubt where ship's safety was concerned.

He paused over the diagnostics, and wished, not for the first time, that he'd paid a little more attention in the upper level programming courses he'd taken, those that applied to ship's systems. Luckily, dear Sue had reported her findings in a lovely vernacular that made sense of everything.

The missing transporter logs, however, gave him pause.

Or maybe someone just wanted to be thorough.

Shaking his head, he set the PADDs aside for the next day, making a mental list of things he had to accomplish before Tuvok decided to move on his suspicions--{more than he has already, that is. Which means I need the information off the core, and why do I think the Captain isn't letting me on that project?} Tom checked the duty roster and found the names of the engineers who would be downloading and defragmenting the core. {Neither one will be good for my purposes--they won't share information. Damn it.}

So he'd have to find another way.

Tom took a breath and glanced down at the bag with his tricorder still lying innocuously on the floor.

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