Title: Time Out
Author: Dave Rogers
Email Address: daverogers@geocities.com
Series: Voyager
Rating: PG-13
Codes: P/T, all.
Date Posted: 16/06/99
Summary: After five years, the tension in the crew is showing. Shore
leave on a deserted planet is the cure, but is the place all that it
seems? Set shortly after "Thirty Days".
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters and situations in this
world; I've just borrowed them and put them in mine.
Acknowledgements: Jim Wright's "Delta Blues" website for background
material.
This story is based in part on the lyrics to "Close to the Edge",
written by Jon Anderson, Steve Howe and Chris Squire and performed
by Yes, copyright Atlantic Recording Corporation 1972.
Time Out
"Thomas Eugene Paris, you have been found guilty of treason against
the Federation."
The courtroom seemed familiar, as if he had been here many times
before. In the public gallery he saw the stern face of his father,
the tears running down his mother's cheeks, the blank faces of his
former classmates. He heard his father shout, "What are you doing
with your life? Wake up, Tom, and get your head out of the ocean!"
"You will be taken from this place to a place of detention, where you
will serve a sentence of five hundred years' imprisonment." The voices
echoed, "Five hundred years... Wake up, Tom! five hundred... Wake up,
Tom! five hundred..."
And then it was the computer, and B'Elanna. "Time is 0500 hours."
"Wake up, Tom, you're on duty in three hours."
He pieced together the memory of the previous night. B'Elanna hadn't
been here, she was pulling another double shift, and he'd eaten
Neelix's simulated Andorian sea-swine liver stew in the messhall,
which probably accounted for the nightmares. "B'Elanna? I thought you
were on duty this morning."
"I switched shifts."
"Again?" He smiled. "People will talk." In fact, he knew, people were
talking. She'd been switching shifts a lot lately, and one or two
friends had suggested to him that she wasn't all that interested in
the job when she was on duty. Of course, it could just be that nothing
had broken down lately, and the ship was in an unusually benign part
of the Delta Quadrant. And, of course, since she was spending most of
her additional spare time with him, Paris wasn't complaining.
"I came to wave you off on your dawn patrol in your FF4."
"F-4-F."
"Whatever." She wandered over into the living area, and soft jazz
music filled the room. "Of course, while you're patrolling the ocean,
I can't promise that I won't seek solace in the arms of another."
Paris could see where this was going, and decided the wisest course
was immediate surrender. "Computer, release holodeck reservation Paris
delta seven."
"Tom! Whatever are you going to do with the next three hours now?" she
purred.
"To think I'm missing a one-on-one dogfight with Saburo Sakae for
this," Tom murmured as her uniform fell to the floor. "I must be
under some kind of spell."
------
Captain's log, Stardate 52181.3. Voyager is approaching a stellar
cluster with a high probability of class M planets. The entire crew
appears somewhat fatigued, and I am hoping for an opportunity for
a few days' shore leave if we can find a suitable one.
"Captain, spatio-analysis reports an unusually high concentration of
chronoton particles in the dust cloud we're passing through." Harry
Kim's voice broke the silence on the bridge, and Janeway turned to
the ensign.
"Any hazard to the ship, Mr. Kim?"
"None I'm aware of, Captain, but I recommend we take a closer look."
"Agreed, Mr. Kim. Ensign, slow to impulse."
There was a slight lurch, and Chakotay looked up in surprise as a
drop of moisture fell on his leg. "Chakotay to Torres."
"Lieutenant Torres' commbadge is de-activated."
Chakotay and Janeway exchanged frowns. They both knew B'Elanna
should be on shift, and although it wasn't unusual for her to work
extra shifts she rarely made up for it with extra time off.
"Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres."
"Lieutenant Torres is in Ensign Paris' quarters."
Janeway's face barely slipped, but Chakotay couldn't help smiling, and
Harry Kim burst into a sudden coughing fit. A ripple of suppressed
laughter ran round the bridge, with the exception of Tuvok, who raised
a disapproving eyebrow. It hadn't quite died down when, a few seconds
later, Tom Paris emerged from the turbolift a few minutes early for
his 0800 shift; he looked round in inquiry, but nobody seemed willing
to share the joke, or even look him in the eye, so he wisely decided
not to press the point. He quickly guessed the general subject as
Chakotay took a deep breath and tapped his commbadge again.
"Chakotay to Engineering. We appear to have a problem with inertial
dampers, and there's condensation on one of the overhead panels on the
bridge. Can you get someone up here to have a look at it?"
"Carey here, Commander. We've had all sorts of problems the last
couple of hours." Chakotay and Janeway shot each other another look of
concern, and both knew, as usual, what the other was thinking; it
wasn't normal for B'Elanna to be off duty when there were problems
with the ship.
"There seems to be something up with the main ship's systems," Carey
continued. "We've had control systems failures all over, and a few
leaking gel packs. Nothing severe, but I'm worried there's something
bigger going on."
A moment later another voice interrupted. "Torres here, Commander.
There seems to be a problem with ageing of the gel packs. I've just
looked at a couple," *That was quick*, thought Chakotay, "and if the
rest are the same we're looking at some major maintenance work."
"Nice to have you back, B'Elanna." *Now why did I say that? She'll hit
the roof.* "Harry, could this be related to the high chronoton flux?"
"Good idea", said Kim without thinking, "er, I mean, yes, possibly,
Commander. I'll look into it."
Janeway took over. "Janeway to Torres. Recommendations?"
"Captain, I can keep everything going for a few hours, but we'll need
to take the main control systems offline for a level three diagnostic
and repairs. We could do with a dockyard for this one."
Tuvok was next to contribute. "Captain, I recommend we search for a
planet for repairs this major. We would be less vulnerable to attack."
"Agreed", replied Janeway, "and a bit of shoreleave wouldn't hurt
either. Janeway to Seven." She took care to phrase the request
precisely; she was sick to death of Seven questioning every order,
although she didn't quite understand why she found it so annoying.
"We require an uninhabited class M planet to land for repairs. Can
you recommend a nearby system?"
"There are five such systems within one day's travel at maximum warp,
Captain. Transferring data to science station."
"On screen, Mr. Kim." She studied the star map for a few moments, then
said, "That one, near the edge of the cluster. Let's send out the
probe and check there's nobody there. The last thing I want is another
tangle with the Prime Directive."
------
"It may just be a statistical glitch, Chakotay," said the Captain as
they studied the sickbay logs together in the ready room, "but a rise
of seventy per cent in the accidental injury rate's enough to bother
me."
"The crew's tired, Kathryn - and if you don't mind me saying so,
you're tired too." Chakotay smiled at her, his eyes deep with more
than friendly concern. "Why don't you..."
Whatever he was about to suggest was interrupted by the chirp of the
Captain's commbadge.
"Kim to Janeway. Captain, we're receiving data from the probe. No sign
of intelligent life, Earth normal atmosphere and temperate climate.
Looks like a good choice. We're getting a video feed from the probe."
"On screen in my ready room, Mr. Kim." Both turned to the display
screen, Chakotay standing to see over the Captain's head as he did so,
and as the video feed showed their intended landing place they both
let out long breaths of relief. "It looks like Paradise, Chakotay. I
wish we could stay here a while." And Paradise it seemed to be - or,
at least, the nearest to it that the notoriously hostile Delta
Quadrant could provide. The probe showed a view from a hilltop,
looking out past fine, feathery-leafed bushes to a broad, thinly
wooded valley carpeted by something slightly bluer than grass. Nowhere
was there any sign of the works of intelligent beings.
"Unfortunately, we'd have the crew with us this time." He was standing
behind her, too close, and she felt so tired, so ready to give in. But
he was grinning as he spoke, so she played along with the joke, and
rescued herself yet again.
"Let's save our holiday plans for the Alpha Quadrant, then."
"You've got a date, Kathryn."
They shared a moment of silent understanding, then Janeway's commbadge
recalled them to the ship. "Kim to Janeway. We're about to pass
through a chronoton current - you might like to see these readings as
they come in."
"Thank you, Mr. Kim. I'll be right there." Chakotay was at her
shoulder as she walked to the door, ready to resume his role as her
champion, the model of the pure and chivalrous knight. As the door
opened, she heard Tom saying, "C'mon, Harry, find us a landing site
near the ocean. The last thing we'll need down there is a pilot."
As they left, an observer in the ready room would have seen the
picture on the display break up as the ship entered the chronoton
current. The same observer would have seen, moments later, a new
picture form.
Although the lie of the land was similar, the wooded valley was now a
city, and a city under siege. Burned out shells of buildings rose
like shards of broken glass against the background of shell-torn
hillsides, tracked weapon carriers circled and clashed in a slow dance
of destruction around the perimeter, and atmosphere craft rained down
explosives and incendiaries to add to the holocaust. There was no
sound to be heard, but the observer would have had no difficulty
adding the screams, the explosions and the clatter of mighty machines
of war.
Then the ship left the chronoton stream, and all was paradise again.
--------
"Warning. Inertial dampers are at 47% efficiency. Do not initiate
violent manoeuvres."
"Thank you so for sharing that", muttered Tom as he set the course for
Voyager's descent into the atmosphere of Elysium. Louder, he announced,
"Hang on people, it's going to get a bit bumpy." *Landing a starship
with the inertial dampers half gone, most of the sensors offline,
fifteen millisecond delay on helm control - how do I get myself into
these things?* But the engineering staff's heroic efforts had given
him just enough time to get the ship down safely, despite the rapid
deterioration in the gel packs after passing through the chronoton
stream.
Levelling off at one kilometre, Tom announced, "We're through the
worst now, Captain. I've brought us into the northern temperate zone,
latitude forty-three degrees North. We'll be at the landing site in
about five minutes. It's a pleasant day with a little light cloud,
possible showers later", he couldn't resist adding, to a disapproving
frown from the captain. Within seconds, Voyager made him a liar as it
crossed the terminator into night.
A few minutes later, he brought the ship down so gently that he had
the unalloyed pleasure of hearing the captain ask, "Are we down yet?"
"Yes ma'am. Ready for environmental scans."
Harry took his cue. "Lifesign scans report the expected plant, insect
and small animal life. Nothing intelligent, nothing bigger than about
half a meter long. Temperature eight point three degrees Celsius -
it's a little cold, Captain, but it should warm up when the sun rises.
A day of twenty-three point five standard hours, so we can sleep
normally, and we can breathe the atmosphere indefinitely without
breathing aids. Looks good, Captain," he added, pleased that the
planet had lived up to the classical name he had suggested for it.
"Janeway to crew. Secure from landing stations. Security team to the
main entry port." Then, turning, "Mr. Tuvok, take your men and secure
the area, then we can start sending out foraging parties." To the
commbadge again, "Mr. Neelix, report to my ready room in fifteen
minutes."
Then her commbadge sounded back to her. "Emergency Medical Hologram to
the Captain. Am I to infer from the relative stability of the ship
that we have landed?"
*Damn, I forgot to tell him*, thought Janeway. And then, *I seem to
be forgetting a lot lately.* "Janeway to the Doctor. You infer
correctly." *And he always seems to make me talk just as pompously as
he does.*
"In that case, Captain, may I speak with you privately?"
This sounded ominous. "My ready room, in five minutes."
--------
"My social subroutines indicate that this is not a time for
pleasantries, so I shall get straight to the point." The captain
rolled her eyes in relief. "Captain, over the past five years, the
crew of this ship have been abducted, betrayed, blown up, shot,
imprisoned, tortured, brainwashed, experimented upon," *God, if this
is getting straight to the point I won't live long enough to hear him
beat about the bush* "marooned on planets, marooned in space - "
"I get the general picture. Your point?"
The Doctor frowned. She'd cut him off before he could get to the punch
line, "and forced to eat Neelix's cooking."
"Captain, I am concerned for the mental health of the majority of the
crew. While everyone is presently in good physical condition, I have
detected numerous cases of stress-related disorders, ranging from
clumsiness, poor concentration and mood swings to, in some cases,
full-blown clinical depression. Practically all the crew are on the
edge, or close to it."
*B'Elanna*, thought Janeway. *Maybe she's not over it all yet.* And
there was the accident epidemic, and her own rather short fuse. It all
seemed to add up now. "Can you give me an idea of who we're talking
about?"
"Unfortunately, my ethical subroutines will not allow me to disclose
that sort of information."
Janeway's temper caught her by surprise. "Your subroutines can be
altered, Doctor." Then, realising she had overstepped a mark, "My
apologies, Doctor. Could you, maybe, give me some idea who I *can*
rely on?"
He pondered. "That would be a shorter list, I suppose." Then, looking
her full in the face, "And I have to add, Captain, that you would not
be on it."
That one struck home, hard. She sank into her chair. "Recommendations?"
"I have little relevant knowledge, Captain. I'm a doctor, not a
counsellor. However, if this planet proves as benign as we hoped,
extending our stay here would certainly be beneficial."
"How long do you think we need?"
"A month, possibly two. And be warned, Captain, that at first we may
see more problems, as the relief from stress allows people to react.
In short, things will get worse before they get better."
"Thank you, Doctor." She had some hard thinking to do on this, and
felt she probably wasn't in the best condition to do it. "Dismissed."
------
Harry Kim fell in neatly beside Tom Paris as he walked towards the
entry port. "Hey, Tom. Are you due for shore leave yet?"
"Just headed out now. B'Elanna's too busy to join me, so I get to
explore on my own." Harry noticed he hardly seemed to be trying to
keep the disappointment out of his voice. "I hear you and Jenny
Delaney are both off duty tomorrow. Need any helpful advice from an
old friend? You know, where to go, what to do?"
Harry chuckled. "I hate to disappoint you, Tom, but you're not exactly
the first person I'd ask any more. It's common knowledge your
bachelor days are over." He recalled a remark of the day before.
"Jenny's been dropping pretty heavy hints about..." Harry realised he
didn't actually want to tell Tom what Jenny had been saying, and
finished rather lamely "...about rings."
Tom frowned. "Dropping hints? Is she talking about commitment? That
doesn't sound like her. I mean," realising his implication and trying
to take it back, "trying to hurry a relationship, I'd have thought
you and she..." He paused in confusion.
"No, Tom, talking about you. And B'Elanna."
"Oh." Harry realised, to his horror, that Tom was taking this
seriously. "Well, it's not something we've talked about - marriage, I
mean..." For a moment he seemed lost in thought. He looked round, saw
they were alone, and lowered his voice. "You know, I'd ask her now,
Harry, only I'm not sure it wouldn't be taking things too fast." Then
another thought struck him. "B'Elanna's not been talking to *Jenny*,
has she?"
Harry realised he was in a deeper hole with every word. Jenny had
actually suggested that the ring went through Tom's nose, and he
suspected she didn't want the remark to get back to the chief
engineer. He looked around desperately for a distraction, then saw
the perfect one approaching.
"Hey, Maquis."
"Hey, Starfleet." B'Elanna emerged from a side corridor, and added
"Hi, Tom" when she'd finished kissing him. Harry tried not to look
embarrassed; the two of them had been getting rather more
demonstrative in public lately, but then the whole ship had seemed a
bit strange lately. "I can't stop, I'm late for the afternoon shift."
"B'Elanna, let me take you away from all this." Tom ignored a groan
from Harry. "I'll fly you away to a tropical island in the sun, where
we can lie in the surf and make love till the sun goes down -"
"Am I bothering you guys?" Harry interrupted. "I'm sure I've got some
plasma manifolds to scrub or something." Both of them ignored him.
"Sounds wonderful, Tom. Now if only I could get the chief engineer to
give me some time off." Then she pressed her commbadge. "Torres to
Carey. Joe, do you really need me this afternoon?"
Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor. He was starting to wonder whose nose
the ring really went through now.
------
"Tom, of course she gave me the afternoon off. The Captain's been on
at me for years to take the afternoon off."
On a pretext of looking for edible plants, which fooled neither them
nor the Captain, Tom and B'Elanna had taken a shuttlecraft to a
tropical island that Tom had seen from orbit. Now they were strolling
along the dividing line where a smooth, sandy beach gave way to dense
undergrowth, with thick forest further inland.
"Hey, I'm not complaining. And you certainly picked a glorious
afternoon." Tom didn't press the matter further, but he wasn't sure
whether to be glad B'Elanna was making so much time to be with him
or concerned at the fact that she could bring herself to walk away
from an urgent engineering job.
"Well, there are more things in life than fixing the warp engines."
Tom burst out laughing, and swung her round into his arms. "Who are
you, and what have you done with our Chief Engineer?"
She laughed too, but was there an edge there, a note of hysteria?
"OK, I admit it, I'm Steth and I've finally come back to get my
revenge." Seeing Tom's face slip, she lowered her voice and said,
"Just kidding, Tom. You're really worried, aren't you?"
"I know everyone's a bit ragged round the edges, B'Elanna, and I know
you hate being looked after. I just think we could all do with a rest."
He brightened a little. "Anyway, how do I know you aren't really
Steth?"
"We-ell, let's see. There's a scar, about two centimetres long, down
the left side of your lower jaw." She traced the mark gently with her
index fingernail. "Would you like me to remind you how you got it?"
"But then you'll have to convince me you weren't Steth *then*."
She was laughing now. "Paris, you're impossible!"
As she gently threw him down on the soft sand, Tom briefly wondered
how they would explain the completely empty food sacks.
------
The Doctor was definitely not enjoying himself, and somehow the fact
that he didn't have a subroutine for enjoying himself didn't make it
any better. Neelix had come and almost dragged him out of sickbay,
and now they were dredging the bed of a stream looking for edible
worms and grubs. The fact that they were surrounded by trees and
bushes bearing fruits that his tricorder assured him were both
nutritious and safe to eat didn't seem to have dampened the little
Talaxian's enthusiasm for seeking out something far more disgusting.
*At least I don't have to eat*, thought the Doctor with a grimace. He
tried to listen as Neelix enthused at him some more.
"Such a beautiful planet, Doctor. It reminds me of Rynax, where I
grew up." Neelix suddenly dropped to his knees and started digging in
the mud with a cry of triumph. "Now these little fellows with all the
legs are absolutely full of protein, and they probably won't need
more than four hours' cooking. A sackful of these, and we won't need
anything more to eat till we get to the Alpha Quadrant!" Privately
the Doctor suspected that this was indeed the case. In the experience
of his databases, victims of fatal food poisoning tended to have
drastically reduced appetites.
"Now just look at these tubers! All our vitamin needs, in one simple
swollen root..." Neelix's voice faded as he disappeared from sight
into a small copse by the stream, but for a moment the Doctor could
still hear indistinct words - one of them, he hoped for the sake of
the crew, hadn't been "gastropod". Then the sound of Neelix's voice
seemed to be cut off abruptly.
There was silence for several seconds, then a scream of panic split
the air as Neelix reeled back out of the copse. He fell at the
Doctor's feet, stammering incoherently, "Rynax... the cleanup... the
Cascade.. I was there... Palaxis, where are you...". His voice
trailed away as he fell unconscious.
As the Doctor scanned him with a medical tricorder, with the calm
detachment that was - quite literally - so much a part of him, he
noted the high chronoton level in the copse before them - as well as
the ash on Neelix's boot soles, on a planet with no fires.
------
"It was terrible, Captain. I was on Rynax, after the Metreon Cascade.
I could - could hear the screams, see the burning buildings, the
people..." Neelix fell back on the biobed, shaking with the
recollection of a moment in hell. He somehow calmed himself, and
said, "I suppose I screamed, then I fell backwards and it was all
gone. I'm sorry, Captain, that's all I remember."
"Thank you, Neelix. Don't worry," she smiled to reassure him. "We'll
get to the bottom of all this. Just let me speak with the Doctor for
a moment."
They stepped aside into the office. "Sounds like a good example of
what you warned me about, Doctor. I didn't want to believe it, but I
think we're all in a worse state than I imagined. Do you think
there'll be many more people with these kind of hallucinations?"
"Captain, I'm not sure this is a stress related phenomenon at all."
She gave him a quizzical look. "Fortunately, I was on the scene and
was able to make certain observations." He produced a sample dish
with a visible flourish, and Janeway was amused to see him almost
preening himself. "This ash from Mr. Neelix's boots is characteristic
of a species of tree from the southern tropics of this planet,
completely alien to this region. And," pointing at the chronoton
reading on his display screen, "it look as if Mr. Neelix crossed a
region of high chronoton flux at the time of his... unpleasant
experience. I'm inclined to suspect his experiences may have been
only too real."
------
Major Paris of the U.S. Marines brought his stubby, sturdy F-4-F
Wildcat fighter round in a diving turn, and checked the mirror
approvingly to see his squadron following in loose formation. Roaring
low over the tents of the field hospital, he saw movement in the
undergrowth beyond. He pressed the trigger, and four lines of fire
stabbed into the bushes. Pulling up, he looked over his shoulder to
see the attackers break and run as plane after plane swept over them
spitting death. Then, in a sudden transition, he was jumping down
from the wing of his plane as the beautiful half-Klingon nurse ran to
embrace her saviour. He saw nothing wrong with her presence here on
Guadalcanal, nor in the way the airfield, the soldiers and their
uniforms were suddenly gone, and they lay together in the warm sand
in a careless tangle of arms and legs, warmed by the tropical sun.
And then he woke to find that the best part of the dream was true.
He lay there for a while, gently savouring the smooth touch of her
skin against his, and watching her chest gently rise and fall in
peaceful sleep. The smile was still on her face, and he found himself
wishing the two of them could be transported to another world where
there was no Voyager, no gel packs to refurbish and no minor
lacerations to heal. He felt he had probably coped better with the
last few years than many of his shipmates - although he never spoke of
them, he recalled worse times in the New Zealand penal colony - but
even he felt drained, and in this peaceful place he felt some of the
stress beginning to catch up with him. His dreams were starting to
improve, though - he couldn't help smiling at that thought.
"B'Elanna?"
"Hmmm?"
Somehow, this wasn't the moment to voice some of the thoughts Harry
had quite accidentally prompted in him.
"We should get back to the ship. It's nearly sundown."
She smiled sleepily, and pulled herself closer to him. "Then you owe
me a little longer, remember the deal?"
He laughed. "Come on, or they'll send a search party." He looked
around for their clothes. "I can explain why we didn't find any food,
but there are limits."
"Spoilsport", she pouted, but stood up and started dressing.
"Actually, those fruits over there look good." Fully dressed now, Tom
walked up the beach. Behind him, B'Elanna picked up her tricorder
ready to check out the pineapple-like objects growing from the low
bushes nearby.
The beach was smooth, light yellow sand for about twenty yards above
the high tide line. Beyond this, there were another thirty yards or so
of open grass, before the low undergrowth started. Tom was roughly in
the middle of the strip of grass when, before B'Elanna's horrified
eyes, he simply disappeared into empty air.
"TOM!" screamed B'Elanna, and ran after him - and then there he was,
but the shuttlecraft was gone, and the still of the evening was
shattered by the roar of explosions and the crackle of gunfire. As she
ran to Tom, he was suddenly thrown forward to the ground, and she
reached him to find a crimson stain spreading from a shoulder wound.
"Rocks, over there," he hissed, and she half-dragged him to cover.
They crouched out of sight, ducking lower as shells screamed overhead
and exploded further inland. Just yards away, what looked like an
amphibious tank rolled up the beach, and saw the high-domed forehead
and prominent neck frills of the humanoid head looking from atop the
turret. "Looks like we stumbled into the middle of a war, Torres." He
forced the words through teeth gritted in pain, and she turned back to
examine his shoulder wound.
"But how? There wasn't anybody here!"
He looked round. "*They're* here, B'Elanna." A small group of aliens
similar to the tank commander, but dressed in rags, looked down on
them with projectile weapons at the ready. "And they don't look like
the official welcoming party."
--------
Janeway, Tuvok, Kim and Seven filed into the briefing room.
"Okay, everyone, we need some answers. So far we've had seven
incidents like Neelix's, and the images are all the same. All coincide
with high levels of chronoton radiation. Theories?"
Kim was first to reply. "Captain, I've been looking through the
recorded probe signals, and there are some excerpts I think you should
see. Computer, run video sequence Kim Omega Nine."
The desktop display lit up with the images they had missed the day
before. Looking round the city in flames, they could see humanoid
corpses scattered in the distance. The violent images shocked them
all, and there was silence in the room for a moment after the sequence
finished.
"It appears logical to assume, Captain, that these images are real,
but that we are somehow unable to perceive them except at times of
high chronoton flux." Tuvok pondered a moment more. "There are records
of a Romulan personal cloaking device based on..."
"Temporal dephasing!" interrupted Kim. "Is it possible that there's a
whole civilisation on this planet, but out of temporal phase so we
can't see it?"
"Species 2209 was just such a civilisation", remarked Seven quietly.
"They deployed temporal dephasing technology in an attempt to avoid
assimilation. It was not successful."
"Exactly my supposition, Mr. Kim", replied Tuvok, after a glance at
Seven. "At times of high chronoton flux a temporal phase modulation
would allow images to pass through from one reality to the other."
"But, Tuvok," replied Harry, feeling his pulse beginning to race,
"wouldn't it also be possible for objects, or people, to pick up a
permanent temporal phase shift? So they could pass across too?"
"That was the basis of species 2209's technology", confirmed Seven.
Before Tuvok could manage more than a nod in reply, Janeway had tapped
her commbadge. "Captain to crew. All crew members are to return to the
ship immediately, repeat immediately. Ship to yellow alert."
Tuvok inclined his head in approval. "A wise precaution, Captain. I
recommend we take the ship into a polar orbit; the chronoton flux is
most intense in the tropical regions."
Harry Kim was the first to realise the implications. "Tom- B'Elanna-"
He activated his commbadge. "Kim to Paris. Kim to Torres. Captain, they
may be..."
"Calm down, Mr. Kim", replied Janeway. "We'll contact them from
orbit."
------
Paris and Torres, had they been able to be contacted from orbit, would
have shown up far from the shuttlecraft, and moving further away by
the second. Their captors had turned out to be more like rescuers,
leaving them in possession of their commbadges, hand phasers and
B'Elanna's tricorder, and leading them to a fast patrol boat that was
evacuating a few survivors from the island. Tom stood by the helmsman,
left arm in a sling, savouring the salt spray and the feeling of
speed, and quite incidentally getting a very good idea of the
Elysians' level of technology. He was already aware of their medical
abilities; not very advanced, but they at least knew how to bandage a
wound. Meanwhile B'Elanna sat below and talked to one of the calmer
refugees.
"But how do you know they're shooting civilians on sight?"
"Everyone knows they behave that way. They're little more than
animals." The universal translator had chosen to render her name as
Samari, and her country's as Elysium from Harry's name for the planet;
their enemies were given as Hadeans, although she suspected the names
would have been exchanged had she been talking to the other side.
"I can't think of a war where people haven't believed that sort of
thing."
"You don't understand! They're not like us, never have been. We're not
safe sharing a world with them. That's why we decided to exterminate
them."
"Exterminate them? Did you start this war?"
"We had to! They would have killed us all. As they are, now. Our
actions have been justified a thousand times over, since they started
to push us back."
B'Elanna suppressed the temptation to smash the words back into her
throat. Apparently she and Tom were too alien to fit into the
Elysians' racist view of the world, but this opinion of the Hadeans
was shared by all she'd spoken to.
Samari spoke again. "I don't understand - who are you two, and where
are you from? How did you get caught in the invasion, and how did you
get on to the island in the first place?"
"I'm not sure. There seem to be two versions of this planet coexisting
in the same space, but quite how... maybe a temporal phase shift..."
Her voice faded away as her mind started racing. The chronoton field
must be to blame, so if she could modify her tricorder to modulate the
commbadge signal on to a chronoton beam, and someone at the other end
had the sense to try the same trick in reverse... Samari's voice
brought her back to the present.
"Are there any Hadeans on the version you come from? And can we get
there, the same way you got here?"
"I don't know. If I knew a way, I'd try it."
------
Ensign Culhane sat quietly at the conn, trying not to curse out loud.
The few gel packs that had been refurbished made the ship just barely
controllable when lifting into orbit, but he hoped Paris would be back
if they needed to land again.
Behind him, Harry Kim announced, "Captain, I've got some pictures of
the out-of-phase world. I've managed to modulate the probe signal with
a chronoton..."
"Spare me the details, Mr. Kim, and put it on screen."
They could make out the details more clearly now. The landscape around
their landing site seemed much the same, but the ruined city spread
across the broad valley bottom. Janeway found herself recalling
images she'd seen in books on the Eugenics Wars, and shuddering at the
suffering that the inhabitants must be enduring. Looking around, she
could see other officers similarly moved.
"There appear to be two distinct racial groupings involved, Captain",
said Tuvok, studying some data from his station. "The inhabitants of
the city are very much in the minority. And, Captain," even Tuvok
almost showed emotion at this discovery, "there appear to be at least
seven other cities on this continent - all uninhabited." His voice
fell almost to a whisper. "With evidence of mass graves nearby."
"Victims of genocide", commented Janeway softly into the silence that
had fallen over the bridge. "Can we do anything to help them?"
"Captain, I believe I can use the modulated beam to communicate with
them", continued Harry.
"Maybe so, Mr. Kim, but there's a little matter of the Prime
Directive." Janeway reluctantly realised they might be unable to act.
"Their technology level appears to be 20th Century. We can't intervene
openly, so we can't speak to them unless they make first contact
inadvertently."
Her commbadge sounded. "Chakotay to Captain Janeway. We've found the
shuttlecraft, Captain, but there's no sign of Tom and B'Elanna. And
we're reading massive residual chronoton traces. It looks like they're
out of phase, Kathryn."
"Understood, Chakotay. You'd better bring that shuttle back. Janeway
out. Harry, Tuvok, we have to find a way to scan for them. What are
our options?"
"Limited, Captain." This time Tuvok spoke. "Due to the continuing
problems with control systems, sensor readings are erratic. I have
configured a communications channel to monitor chronoton modulated
transmissions, but until Mr. Carey's team are able to effect repairs
we can do no more than respond to any attempts to contact us."
*Damn it, is that the best you can do?*, Janeway started to say, but
managed to change it to "Thank you, Tuvok. Do the best you can."
------
The patrol boat had reached the continental coastline now, and headed
inland up a major river. B'Elanna climbed up to where Tom stood, still
following their course. She stood close to him, one hand on his
shoulder, and each relaxed slightly at the other's touch. As they
rounded a bend in the river, he pointed out a familiar range of
mountains, and said quietly, "The city ahead - it looks like it's
built on the landing site."
Neither of them said any more for some time, but both felt somehow
closer to Voyager.
------
In the War Room of Elysian High Command, the Matriarch stood,
surveying the map. The proliferation of red markers everywhere, and
the forlorn lacework of white ones in the centre, told a simple but,
to her, tragic story.
"I have failed", she whispered gently to herself. "My people, dead or
dying. My fault."
One of her staff approached her nervously. "Matriarch, no
communications have been received from the Seventh Army for twenty
hours. Army Group North no longer exists."
The entire staff watched, aghast, as their leader broke down in tears.
"The northern provinces. Two million people. All gone. And the Hadeans
will not stop there. What have I done?"
The moment passed, and she steeled herself to take control, maybe for
the last few hours. "Have any survivors from the Eastern Isles reached
the capital?"
"One boatload only, Matriarch. But one of them, a Citizen Samari, has
information that may be of use to us."
Samari stood behind the advisor. "Matriarch, we have two... sub-humans
with us. Strange, narrow-necked creatures with too much hair. They
come from another world, co-existing with ours in the same space - if
I understand them - but a different time. They are being given food
and shelter, and I believe they may attempt to contact their own
world. They have powerful technology, these otherworlders. They may be
able to take the last of us to a place of safety."
The Matriarch thought quickly. It was too far-fetched a hope - but
what other hope did they have? The sub-humans must not be allowed to
report freely back to their - she supposed - Elysian masters, though;
she, not they, must be the one to contact this other world.
It would take careful timing.
------
Paris and Torres, with three good hands between them, had been working
on the tricorder for almost a whole day now. The Elysians had taken
them to a riverside wharf, then transferred them to an internal
combustion powered ground vehicle. They had been placed in the
passenger area below the driver's cab, but Tom had been able to see up
into the control area and had formed a reasonable idea of the control
layout, while B'Elanna had studied as much as she could of the wiring
and hydraulic systems. Eventually they had arrived at a refugee
centre, whose main distinctive feature was a roof that still covered
about half of the structure. Now they struggled to configure the
tricorder to produce an artificial chronoton beam to interface to
their commbadges.
"OK, I think this'll work", Torres announced. "We can't produce enough
of a chronoton flux ourselves, but if we wait for another burst of
natural chronotons the tricorder can collimate them and form a
coherent beam." She spoke a little loudly, but they had disabled the
universal translators on their commbadges, and none of the Elysians
seemed to know what they were up to.
Tom grinned at her. "I love it when you talk technical. How do we know
when there are enough chronotons around?"
B'Elanna pointed to the main display window. "Look for a reading of
fifty chronons in here."
"Chronons?" Tom's brow furrowed.
"The fundamental unit of chronoton radiation flux." His brow furrowed
even more deeply. "I just made it up, OK?"
"And we can't do anything until there's a strong enough chronoton pulse?"
"Right. I'll make an engineer of you yet."
"Should be easier than teaching you to fly a starship." B'Elanna
growled softly, and Tom tried to look serious. "So we wait."
"Wrong", said a third voice. They looked round to see a group of
Elysians, armed with projectile weapons. "You talk too loud,
sub-humans", the leader sneered. "Did you think you were the only ones
with universal translators?" And then, to the soldiers, "Take them to
the central jail. The Matriarch will be most interested to see what
they have built here."
------
"Incoming chronoton transmission, Captain", reported Harry Kim.
Janeway's heart leapt, and she heard indraughts of breath around the
bridge.
"On screen, Mr. Kim."
"Transmission is audio only, Captain."
A voice came through the main speakers. "Attention, inhabitants of the
other world. I, Matriarch of Elysium, request your help. The children
of my domain are being slaughtered. Hear our plea, otherworlders, and
help us."
"This is Janeway of the Federation." Chakotay gave her a quizzical
glance at the unfamiliar salutation, then raised his eyebrows in
understanding. The Captain was concealing the existence of Voyager,
and by implication the very idea of interstellar travel, from this
obviously pre-warp civilisation. Janeway continued, "Two of my people
appear to have become trapped in your world. Do you know anything of
them?"
"We have reports of two unusual creatures, nearly Elysian, who were
caught up in an amphibious invasion", replied the Matriarch. "The
study of their remains led us to suspect your existence. I am sorry,
Janeway of the Federation. There was nothing we could do to save
them."
There was a moment's silence on the bridge. "What help do you
require?" Janeway's voice gently continued.
"Help us escape, Janeway of the Federation. Help us into your world,
to escape from the Hadeans who are killing my people, even as they
killed yours." The transmission faded as the chronoton flux
diminished.
"Tuvok, does this smell as bad to you as it does to me?" asked Janeway.
"There are certainly grounds for suspicion, Captain. It seems unlikely
that a civilisation with the level of technology we have seen could
have produced a system for modulated chronoton communication unaided."
"The carrier wave had a Federation signature, Captain", commented Kim.
"They may have used a commbadge-tricorder linkup - Tom and B'Elanna had
the equipment for that, and it may have been undamaged when they..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.
"It is equally unlikely, Captain", replied Tuvok, "that the Elysians
could have reverse engineered Federation technology and made the
required modifications in so short a time. The only logical conclusion
is that Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Paris performed the modifications
themselves, and are being held prisoner by the Elysians."
*Or they disposed of them when they had the setup finished*, thought
Janeway. She kept the thought to herself, but suspected that everyone
else on the bridge, Tuvok included, was thinking the same.
------
"Look, be patient, will you, Torres? I haven't done this for five
years." Tom worked patiently at the lock with his one good hand, using
the piece of wire he'd found on the cell floor. "I used to be able to
do this with one hand tied behind my back."
"Very funny", B'Elanna replied. "Tom, we may not have all day. I've
been looking round outside, and there seems to be an evacuation going
on. I think they've contacted Voyager, and the Captain's looking for a
way for them to cross over to the other temporal phase. If I were
them, I'd kill us and hide the evidence. We both know what the
Captain's liable to do if she finds out they've lied to her."
"How do we know they've lied to her?"
"If she knew the truth about these people and their racist wars, do
you think she'd lift a finger to help them? She'd be quoting the Prime
Directive in a moment."
There was a scream and a crash as a shell landed nearby. Tom picked
himself up and renewed his efforts on the lock. B'Elanna, meanwhile,
took a close look at the hinges. "Stand back a moment, Tom." She
lashed out with a foot, screaming a Klingon curse at the moment of
impact, and the door collapsed in a cloud of dust.
Tom gave her a reproachful glance.
"Hey, don't look at me like that. The explosion loosened the screws in
the door frame."
"Fine, fine. I spend half an hour sweating, and you just put the boot
in. Typical engineer." B'Elanna's only reply was a superior smile.
They crouched down for cover as they negotiated the passageways of the
crumbling jail. Reaching the main gate, Tom looked out into the city
square, then ducked as another shell landed nearby. "There's nobody
around, and there's a vehicle over there." He pointed. "Let's go."
They ran together towards the small open-topped car.
Tom was half way across the square, slightly ahead of B'Elanna despite
his useless arm, when a large troop carrier emerged from a street on
the far corner and pulled up alongside the vehicle they were making
for. She saw him stop, briefly looking round for cover, as soldiers
jumped down from both sides of the larger vehicle. As he turned to the
right, making for a low structure a few yards away whose function she
could only guess at, and she turned to follow, she saw the soldiers
fan out and level their weapons. She felt as if every one was pointing
at her; but not all were. Unintelligible commands crackled from a
loudspeaker, and with a roar all the weapons opened fire. She saw Tom
fall, bleeding from a glancing head wound, before the scream of
another shell prefaced a great explosion only yards away. She saw some
of the soldiers fall as the whole city seemed to leap into the air;
then she was falling, and then everything was black.
--------
"Another tangle with the Prime Directive. Just what I didn't need."
Janeway paced angrily up and down the ready room. She'd almost hoped
that Voyager, separated from the Elysians by a temporal phase barrier,
could do nothing to help them; but that would have amounted to signing
Paris and Torres' death warrants too, if they weren't dead already. As
it was, Seven of Nine had proposed a solution.
"Captain, it is possible to focus the incoming chronoton stream using
a modification to Voyager's tractor beam. The shields could then be
projected over the focal point to stabilise an interface, allowing
passage of people and objects into this temporal phase." There had
been more - how Astrometrics had mapped the chronoton streams, how one
huge burst of chronoton radiation could be expected as the centre of
the stream crossed the planet's orbit, how a very few smaller bursts
would follow - all delivered with Seven's calm precision, which only
seemed to emphasise the turmoil of indecision Janeway had felt
herself. And now, Chakotay was bearing the brunt of her temper.
"Kathryn, we have to help these people. If what they say is true..."
"If what they say is true, we've lost two of our best people. And if
it isn't, they may have killed them. I don't feel too much inclined to
help anyone right now, Chakotay!"
"We'll never know what's happened to Tom and B'Elanna if we don't help
them, Kathryn." Deep down, she knew he was right, and found herself
deeply, irrationally annoyed at him for it. She turned to the viewport,
avoiding his gaze, and said softly, "Do it."
As he left for the bridge, Janeway slumped into a chair. The Doctor
was right; she felt burnt out, hesitant, unable to make a simple
decision. They all had to have some time out, but it didn't look like
that was going to happen any time soon. Taking a deep breath, she put
herself back together again and strode out to the bridge to face the
Matriarch.
------
The Matriarch of Elysium breathed a sigh of relief. "I understand,
Janeway of the Federation. The interface location you specify will
take less than an hour", she hoped their translators could carry out
the conversion, "to reach. I will have as many of my people there as
is possible." *And we need never find out what happened to yours*, she
thought. The survivors of the execution detail had reported their
mission accomplished, partly by their own hand and partly by a Hadean
shell. She hadn't been sure whether their execution was entirely a
good idea, but they might well have picked up some embarrassing
information on how this war had originally started. She needed the
wholehearted assistance of this unseen Janeway of the Federation, if
her people were to regain their former power and finish the Hadean
extermination some day. And besides, who would miss them? They were
only sub-humans, after all.
"Matriarch out." She broke the connection, then turned to face the war
room.
"Evacuate the city. Commandeer every vehicle that will move, take
every citizen who can walk. Minimal possessions, all the food we can
save. Redeploy all forces to secure the corridor to Sarta Bridge. And
take all the weapons you can carry."
Within minutes, vehicles were moving and troops marching, all
converging on a road northwards out of the city. A cloud of dust rose
behind them that could be seen by every Hadean unit converging on the
city - and by one other person.
B'Elanna sat in the centre of the square, knees to her chest, forehead
slumped on her hands. Tom lay beside her, still breathing last time
she'd looked - but for how much longer? She felt a crushing weariness
greater than any she'd ever known before, and knew that this was the
end. She looked up uncomprehendingly at the dust cloud to the north,
then turned her head to the unconscious form beside her.
"I'm sorry, Tom. We're going to die here, and it's all my fault. If
I'd been on duty, seen the problem with the gel packs, we'd never have
landed here. If I hadn't gone with you to that island..." Her voice
trailed away. What was the point?
Faintly, a familiar voice croaked, "We're not dead yet, Torres." Tom's
eyes opened slightly, and he continued, "I could really use a cup of
Neelix's coffee substitute, though." Seeing her blank look, he
realised she wasn't going to manage a comeback. "B'Elanna, there's
something you should know. We didn't just stop here to fix the gel
packs. Sickbay attendants pick up all sorts of information, you know."
He sat up, and winced at the pain in his head. "The Doctor was about
to demand we find a safe haven to rest the crew. I think the Captain
would have brought us down here even if the ship had been a hundred
per cent."
Still no response. "B'Elanna, there's only so much anyone can take.
We're all on the edge. You've kept going longer, done more than
anyone. There's just no more deuterium in the tank." From the splinter
wounds in his legs, he wasn't sure he could walk; but this was a time
for desperate measures. "Maybe now it's my turn."
He stood up, unsteadily, and held out his good arm, noticing that by
now "good" was merely a relative term. "Come on. From the look of
things, there's a party going on over there. I think it's time to
gatecrash."
She took his arm and stood up slowly. "Do you think the Captain's
found a way to let them cross over to the other temporal phase?"
"That's exactly what I think."
"They left about half an hour ago. We'll never catch up."
Feeling steadier now, Tom stared into the dust-laden north. "A cloud
that size tells me there's one hell of a big convoy. Big convoys go
very, very slowly. Come on, we've got a car to steal."
"They took all the cars." Still no emotion, no anger, no hope.
Tom turned and seized her shoulder, grimacing as he forgot his
injuries and tried briefly to raise the other arm. "B'Elanna, listen.
There are a hundred and forty good people out there somewhere, and
they're going to find a way to get us back. But we need to do all we
can to help ourselves too. We can do it, but", emphasising every word,
"we... need... to keep... going. We can make it back. We can do it
together." He'd never seen her this far gone. Maybe he couldn't reach
her.
B'Elanna looked up at last, and saw Tom's insistent gaze boring into
her. At her lowest ebb, something Klingon stirred within her.
*Kahless, but this man of mine has the heart of a warrior.* If he
could still go on, maybe she still had something left too. She looked
round the square.
The vehicle they'd tried to reach was still there, blown on one side
by the explosion; but it looked like it might still run if they could
right it. Slowly, afraid that even trying to speak would be too much
for her last vestiges of courage, she walked slowly towards it. Out of
the corner of her eye, she saw Tom's face relax into a smile as he
walked alongside her. *How can he smile at a time like this?*, she
wondered. But, trusting him, she tried the same herself, and drew a
little more strength from it.
------
On the bridge of Voyager, Kim and Seven were ready.
"Chronoton pulse in one minute, Captain." "Tractor beam and shields at
the ready." Efficient calm had taken over to mask the concern all felt
for the safety of their shipmates, and the apprehension over whether
this would work at all. Carey and his team had refurbished enough gel
packs now that both shields and tractors could be relied upon, but the
theoretical basis for their attempt was, at best, sketchy.
The computer's voice announced the beginning. "Initiating control
sequence Seven of Nine, beta three."
Harry looked up from his station. "It's working, Captain! The
interface looks stable, and the Elysians are coming through."
"On screen, Mr. Kim." Before them, a ragged army materialised from out
of a shallow ravine, and troops fanned out into defensive positions.
Following them, battered, bent and broken vehicles rolled into the
empty plain, with people clad in dusty rags clinging to every
available handhold. As the procession continued, with an impossible
air of orderly calm, it became clear that every figure, from the
oldest adult to the youngest child, carried some sort of weapon. "A
good thing we're in orbit. They look like they'd kill anyone who..."
Janeway's voice trailed away as she remembered that not all her crew
were safely in orbit.
------
Tom's good hand was twisting the throttle on the vehicle that he had
decided to accord the status of jeep, trying to get more power out of
the engine. His feet pressed firmly on the rudder bar, fighting to
keep control over the rocky mess that the great evacuation convoy had
made of the road. Behind him, hanging on for dear life, B'Elanna
leaned over the side. She appeared to be vomiting, and Tom wondered
whether she'd taken a blow to the head too. Tearing round a tight
corner, they crossed the brow of a hill, and saw the plain spread out
below them.
Tom tapped B'Elanna's shoulder - there was too much noise to try
talking - and pointed to a bridge over the road, below and to the left
of them. The dust cloud seemed to come to an end there, and both could
clearly see that while vehicle after vehicle was passing under the
bridge, not one was emerging from the other side. They could also see
that the last vehicle would be gone a few minutes before they got
there. *Whatever you're doing, Captain, just keep it going for a few
more minutes*, Tom prayed silently.
------
"Sensors report one hundred and three thousand, eight hundred and
twenty-three humanoids now on the planet", reported Tuvok with his
usual imperturbable calm. "No vehicles have emerged for two minutes."
"Keep the interface open as long as you can, there may be stragglers."
Janeway was reluctant to do this at all, but she was damned if she'd
do it to less than the best of their collective abilities. "Janeway to
the Matriarch." She would be able to use the commbadge directly now.
"How many of your people still remain?"
"All are through, Janeway of Federation. You may close the way now."
"Captain", added Tuvok, still calm, "Sensors indicate more movement of
phase shifted objects towards the interface. Detailed information is
unavailable, but mass readings are consistent with two humanoids."
"Tom and B'Elanna!" exclaimed Harry, trying to believe it. "They're
coming through!"
"Try and hold the door open for them, Mr. Kim," ordered Janeway.
------
The last bend had been one too many. The jeep skidded, slid sideways,
and crashed into a ditch about a hundred yards from the bridge. Tom
and B'Elanna jumped clear, and in a moment Tom was on his feet. "Run,
B'Elanna! We don't know how long it'll stay open!" Then she was up
too, and running beside him. They reached the bridge...
------
"Keep it open as long as you can, Harry."
Seven of Nine spoke. "The chronoton flux is dropping."
Harry Kim's voice rose. "I can keep it open by contracting the shield
envelope. Just a few more seconds..."
------
...and suddenly he was alone. He stopped, turned, saw B'Elanna's
footprints come to a sudden stop behind him.
------
Tuvok's voice still showed no sign of the tension on the bridge.
"Reading one life sign at the portal, Captain - human/Klingon."
Kim was shouting, "I can't keep it open any longer, Captain!" Then he
exhaled, slumped down over the panel and buried his head in his hands
as Seven announced, with the finality of a death sentence, "Chronoton
flux has fallen to background levels. The interface has collapsed."
The silence was broken by Janeway's voice. "Captain to transporter
room one. Lock on to Mr. Tuvok's co-ordinates and beam Lieutenant
Torres directly to sickbay."
------
He'd retraced B'Elanna's steps, but it had been too late. There was no
way back now. At least B'Elanna was going to be all right; he knew
their shipmates would have been waiting for her to appear, and she was
probably in sickbay right now. As for himself - he tried to remember
his own words, earlier, to B'Elanna. *There are a hundred and forty
good people out there somewhere, and they're going to find a way to
get me back*, he told himself. *But I need to do... all I can to...*
Pain exploded in his head, and the thought, and everything else,
ended.
--------
B'Elanna hardly knew when it was she had passed through the interface.
One moment she was running alongside Tom; the next, she saw the
Elysian refugee column spread out across the plain ahead, and felt the
shimmer of the transporter. Then she was in sickbay, and the Doctor
was making her lie on a biobed, and scanning her with a medical
tricorder.
She tried to sit up. "Tom! Did they get Tom?" She looked around at the
empty beds, and drew her own conclusion instantly. Suddenly, the
despair she had felt was gone, overwhelmed by the need to rescue the
man she loved, the man who had given her the strength to rescue herself.
"I have to get to engineering."
"Lieutenant, you are in no state to go anywhere." The Doctor barred her
way. "You have a concussion, a hairline skull fracture, multiple
contusions and lacerations..."
"Computer, disable tactile interface on the EMH, authorisation Torres
nine gamma."
The Doctor's jaw dropped in astonishment, intersecting the ridges on
B'Elanna's forehead as she walked straight through his chest and out
of sickbay.
------
Pausing briefly to replicate a new commbadge, B'Elanna headed for
engineering, talking hard as she went. "Torres to Janeway. Captain,
Tom's at the interface site, or near it, but I think he's still phase
shifted. I think I can get him back, but I'll need an external source
of chronotons. Do we know when the next burst's likely to arrive?"
"Janeway to Torres. Seven of Nine has the data in Astrometrics. I'll
send her to engineering to help you out." Torres cursed quietly; the
Borg had just better not slow her down, that was all.
"Torres to Carey. Joe, get to transporter room two. I need you there.
Torres to Nicoletti. Sue, I'll need you to align the transporters to
the incoming chronoton phase. Torres to Kim. Harry, reconfigure the
scanners to detect lifesigns with a temporal phase variance of 270
degrees. Torres to Vorik, never mind", as she whirled into engineering
and saw Vorik already working at the tractor beam control station.
"Seven, when will we get the next chronoton burst?"
"There will be a sufficiently high chronoton flux for an attempted
beamout in one minute and thirteen seconds."
"Let's move fast, people," called B'Elanna, her fingers flying over the
main power controls.
"Lieutenant Torres", added Seven, "It is unlikely that another
chronoton pulse of sufficient intensity will be available."
"Great. We'll have to get it right first time then. Torres to Kim - be
ready to scan in fifty-five seconds from now. Torres to Carey - prepare
to beam directly to sickbay on Harry's co-ordinates."
"Ready, Lieutenant," called Nicoletti from across the room. Vorik
looked round and nodded to the chief engineer.
"Just stay where you are, Tom," muttered B'Elanna.
"Lieutenant?" Seven of Nine spoke quietly.
"What?" B'Elanna snapped.
Seven paused for a second. "Good luck."
Had she really said that? *I didn't know the Borg believed in luck.
Maybe there's a human being in there after all.* "Thanks, Seven."
Fifteen seconds to go.
------
The leading reconnaissance elements of the Hadean army quickly
surrounded the bridge where the entire remaining population of Elysium
seemed to have vanished into thin air. "First platoon, second section,
move forward", called a voice from a command vehicle. Slowly, keeping
low, a thin line of dome-headed, frill-necked soldiers crawled towards
the southern side of the bridge. The lieutenant in charge stared into
the shadows. Was there a shape there, huddled under the centre of the
ridge? He was just raising his weapon when a clatter sounded beside
him.
"Pick it up, idiot!" he hissed at the hapless soldier, whose helmet lay
on the ground in front of him. The corner of his eye caught the flash
of light from under the bridge, but by the time he looked back there
was nothing to see. Maybe the shape had just been shadows playing
tricks on his eyes. And indeed, when he reached the centre, there was
nothing there but a small patch of red-brown liquid soaked into the
dust.
------
"Carey to Torres. We got him, Lieutenant."
B'Elanna started to breathe again. She noticed Seven looking at her
with a concerned expression, and felt the pain in her head, ignored in
the heat of the moment, increase to the point where she felt like it
would split open. Then a wave of nausea struck her, and the lights in
engineering seemed to flash off and on again. She knew she had done
enough, though; there was just one more command to issue.
"Medical emergency. One to beam direct to sickbay."
------
The Matriarch had been pestering Janeway for a reply for over an hour
now. "Janeway to the Doctor. I need some information on what went on
down there. What shape are Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres in?"
"Lieutenant Torres has a serious concussion and a fractured skull,
exacerbated by her refusal to remain in sickbay. Mr. Paris has
exceeded even my expectations in the severity and the variety of his
injuries, but due to some extraordinarily skilled surgery on my part,
both will make complete recoveries. However, they are both currently
unconscious and I must insist that they are not disturbed for at least
another four hours."
*Damnation*, thought Janeway, *I'll just have to bluff this one out.*
"Tuvok, scan the Elysians for Federation technology. They may have Tom
and B'Elanna's phasers - I don't want those falling into the wrong
hands - and we'd better get the tricorder and the commbadges back before
we go."
"Captain, are we just going to leave them like this?" asked Chakotay.
"We've done enough, Chakotay. I can just about square what we've done
with the Prime Directive, but if they learn who we are, or what we are,
we'll have completely upset their cultural development. Anyway, they
would have left Tom and B'Elanna to die. I don't have much of a problem
with walking away from them."
"I can't believe you'd do that, Kathryn. You have to help these
people." His voice rose slightly as he gestured towards the viewscreen,
where the probe pictures showed the Elysian refugee column slowly
setting up camp.
Janeway turned to Chakotay, her gaze set to kill. "You're out of line,
Commander," she rasped. Was he really arguing with her here, on the
bridge? She felt her temper of the last few days begin to rise again,
but clamped down rigidly on her anger as the audio channel announced
another call from the Matriarch.
"Matriarch to Janeway of the Federation. We are awaiting directions to
your city. We will need food, clothing, shelter - what supplies can you
spare us?"
Janeway took a deep breath. "Matriarch, we found out what you did with
our people."
There was a definite pause at the other end, then, "Janeway of the
Federation. We apologise for the destruction of your sub-humans."
Janeway and Chakotay exchanged shocked glances - had the universal
translator interpreted that right? "Had we known they were of value we
would have returned them to you."
"Matriarch - what do you mean, sub-humans?"
"They were not Elysians, but some lower form of life, were they not?
Lower even than the Hadeans?"
Janeway decided to keep up the bluff a little longer. "They were two
valued members of my crew - and they were the same species as the rest
of us." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tuvok trying just
a little too hard not to look offended.
There was silence at the other end of the communications link. Then,
after a long pause, a different voice spoke.
"Janeway of the Federation. I am commanded by the Matriarch to thank
you for your assistance. We shall not be requiring any further help."
There was another awkward pause, and the voice resumed, "The Matriarch
trusts that you will have the good taste not to refer to this incident
in future." Another pause. "Furthermore, this continent is claimed by
the Matriarchy of Elysium. All Federation... citizens are to leave our
lands immediately."
As the commlink closed, Janeway laughed bitterly as the tension on the
bridge seemed to evaporate. "Well, our grateful friends seem to have
given us the brush-off. Tuvok," ordered Janeway, "Beam up the
commbadges, the tricorder and the phasers. I have a feeling they don't
want to talk to us any more."
Chakotay alone still looked concerned. He stared intently at the images
on the viewscreen, as the Elysian refugees continued to set up camp.
Suddenly, Janeway realised that he had seen nothing of the earlier
images, and that he had probably been shocked out of his normal
self-control when he had spoken earlier.
"Bad memories, Chakotay?" asked Janeway softly.
He replied without looking round. "Did you know I was on Bajor just
after the Cardassians left? It looked a little like this - they'd
destroyed everything, turned people out of their homes. I remember the
hunger, the suffering, the children crying." He turned to the captain.
"I apologise for my outburst just now, Captain. It was unforgivable to
question your authority like that."
"In the circumstances, Commander, I'm prepared to let it go." Janeway
was silent for a moment, lost in thought. "It seems that we've spent a
long time learning to live with our own pain, but we've never really
had to face other people's suffering in the same way." She brightened
slightly, and said with a hint of irony in her voice, "Anyway, the
matter's out of our hands now. They're going to have to fend for
themselves."
"Commander," Tuvok's voice came softly from behind him, "I have
observed from the actions of the Elysians that they are a disciplined,
well organised group. We may suppose that their hierarchical structures
are substantially intact. In such a benign environment as this, it is
unlikely that they will experience severe hardship. However, if we
leave the probe in place, we will be able to monitor their progress and
take action to alleviate suffering, should such action become
necessary."
Chakotay frowned. "Won't that be a little difficult, given that we
won't be staying?"
"We still have to repair the gel packs, Chakotay", put in Janeway,
"and I'd still like the crew to get some time off. I don't think we'll
be leaving just yet." She almost laughed at Chakotay's confusion;
she'd forgiven him for his earlier remarks, but that didn't mean she
couldn't have some gentle revenge. "Oh, put him out of his misery,
Tuvok," she relented, knowing that her security officer had already
guessed what was in her mind.
"Commander, the Elysians have land and amphibious vehicles, but none
are capable of an ocean crossing. And this planet has two major
continental land masses."
--------
Captain's Log, Stardate 52271.8. After over a month on the second
continent of Elysium, we have recovered our probe and are ready to
depart. Repairs have been made at a leisurely pace, and both the ship
and the crew are in better condition than at any time since the
Caretaker first brought us to the Delta Quadrant. The Elysian
settlement on the other continent is thriving, although they have made
no attempt to explore beyond the area they occupy and appear to be
completely unaware of our presence here. I can only speculate what
they imagine has happened to us, but given what Lieutenant Torres and
Ensign Paris have told us of them, they would probably prefer to
forget we ever existed. The chronoton field has passed now, and it
seems that the two worlds here will remain separate for the
foreseeable future.
------
Tom Paris scrambled up the last few feet of the rock face, then stood
quietly on the summit, looking down into the silence of the valley.
B'Elanna had intended to join him on this one last climb, but she had
found herself needed in engineering for a few more hours, testament to
her recovery from the lassitude of the weeks before their arrival.
They had spent most of their shoreleave time together over the past
month, but she had avoided talking about what had happened in the
phase shifted reality, and he had preferred not to mention it herself.
He had learned not to hurry B'Elanna; she clearly had some things to
say, but she would get round to it when she was ready. As for what he
wanted to say to her, he still wasn't sure either of them was ready.
The shimmer of a transporter beam interrupted his musings, and then
their subject was sitting beside him.
"Hey, that's cheating. I do all the hard work, then you get to enjoy
the view."
"Engineer's privilege", she answered smugly.
They sat quietly for a while, watching the brown leaves turn to dust
far below them. Late summer had given way to a mild autumn, and Tom
realised that this was the first time in five years that he had been
in one place long enough to watch the seasons change. He would miss
this peace tomorrow, when they were gone.
"Tom, about what happened... back there."
Tom wondered, for one ridiculous moment, whether her reticence over
discussing the incident was simply to avoid having to spend half the
time repeating the phrase "temporally phase shifted".
"In the other world?" Maybe that would be easier to pronounce.
"In the temporally phase shifted world, yes." Okay, so maybe that
wasn't the reason.
She raised her head and looked towards the horizon, avoiding Tom's
gaze. "We'd have died there, you know. I'd given up. I just... in that
square, I couldn't..." Her voice trailed away.
"You did fine. You just needed a little help, that's all. We all do
sometimes."
He could tell that wasn't enough, so he added, "The whole crew was
pretty bad, you know. I hear the captain even looked at Chakotay on
the bridge."
"What's so strange about that?" she asked, looking puzzled.
"I mean she *looked* at him."
"Oh." As realisation dawned, she smiled a little. "It couldn't have
been that bad. His tattoo's still all there."
"So maybe you could cut yourself a bit of slack too."
Now she looked him full in the face. "I didn't mean to leave you
behind, Tom. It just all happened so fast, I was on a biobed before I
realised you were still back down there. I didn't mean to leave you
behind", she repeated, suddenly close to tears again.
Tom smiled. "You didn't leave me behind, though, did you? I heard what
you did to get me back. Tuvok says he still thinks that transporter
trick's theoretically impossible."
"Tuvok doesn't know everything", B'Elanna countered curtly, but not
without a faint note of pride.
"And I also heard how you passed out the moment you heard I was okay."
"Nicoletti's been talking, right?"
"Seven of Nine, actually. She said you were, uh, 'capable of continued
function despite unusually high levels of damage'. She also said that
your transporter modifications were 'quite efficient'."
"High praise indeed. I think." She paused, then, "Thanks for getting
me out of there, Tom."
"Thanks for getting *me* out too."
"I guess we make a good team."
Tom felt his pulse race as he decided to risk one last step. "The sort
of team that ought to stick together."
He held his breath as he waited for her next words, words that might
make or break two lives. When they came, he realised he couldn't have
put it better himself.
"Let's do that, Paris. Whatever world we're in."
THE END
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