ANGEL

By Morticia

49-51/60

Part 49 

CHAKOTAY

I felt a moment of guilty grief as we shot through the jagged hole in Voyager’s side. The old lady had gallantly carried us home and I had rewarded her by blasting a hole in her side that gaped like a huge wound. So I risked the phasers of DS9 and made sure that she was clear of the backlash of our engines before engaging warp.

Then I turned on the autopilot and the Heran cloaking device that would render us invisible both to sensors and the naked eye before turning to face the others.

Those few moments of our escape had been enough for Tom to sink back into unconsciousness. Seeing his unnaturally pale face I started to rise out of my chair in panic but the Doctor’s calm voice hastened to reassure me.

"He’s just sleeping, Commander, he’s exhausted and malnourished but he’s fine."

I looked at him in relief

"Thanks. Thank you for helping us too, and it’s just Chakotay." I finished grimly; I certainly wasn’t a Commander anymore. The only Starfleet title I was likely to hold from now on was Fugitive No 1.

"I’m really grateful for your help, your timing was impeccable!" I said, shivering as I remembered the flashing blade "But I can’t for the life of me understand how you knew to be ready. Did you KNOW Tom was on DS9?"

Neelix looked away from me sheepishly, and shook his head in a negative.

"Well I did" The Doctor said proudly, "I was in DS9’s sickbay being ‘de-briefed’ when Tom materialised. Doctor Bashir was then too busy creating a diversion to notice me leave."

"A diversion?"

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

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

"How did you know we would need a ship?"

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

I nodded. In view of my previous actions I could hardly lose my temper over such a harsh judgement. I had given no one cause to believe any better of me.

"Why Angel’s ship? It would have been hard enough to break into any docking bay, let alone have to get into Voyager too. Surely there were plenty of runabouts." I asked although, to be honest, without Angel’s cloaking device we wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of staying free for more than a few hours.

"I – um – I – that is –" Neelix mumbled

"He was already stealing it!" The Doctor snapped waspishly

I blinked in surprise. "You were stealing Angel’s ship?" I asked in confusion. "Why?"

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

"Apparently they wanted to be sure he wasn’t a Founder!" the Doctor said "They seem to be QUITE paranoid these days."

"So you were going to steal Angel’s ship and go home?" I asked angrily. If Tom hadn’t come to DS9 I would have lost my chance to follow him. Despite the fact that Neelix’s selfish actions had actually saved us both, I was still aggrieved.

"It seemed my only chance to get home!" Neelix replied with shame.

"The wormhole has collapsed" I told him, "There isn’t any way back to the Delta Quadrant."

"So where can I go?" Neelix asked in renewed panic "Where can any of us go?"

Which had been my thought all along too.

"Dorvan" I replied decisively

"Dorvan?" Tom asked in a frightened voice.

I swung around in surprise. I hadn’t realised that he had woken up.

"It’s the only place I can think of. babe!" I told him "They don’t have an extradition treaty with the Federation. Ever since they were abandoned to the Cardassians, the Dorvan government has refused to accept any Federation law. Now the war is over, Dorvan is neutral territory."

I thought my words would soothe him, but instead I saw tears pooling in his blue eyes and his lower lip began to quiver tremulously. The confidence he had shown in DS9 had been replaced with his more usual uncertainty.

I scooted over to him and sank to my knees so that our faces were level. Gently cupping his face in my hands I leant forwards and kissed the tip of his nose. He shuddered and collapsed forwards into my chest. I hugged him fiercely.

"It’s okay, Tom. It’s going to be alright."

"I don’t want to go to Dorvan" he whispered sadly into my ear.

I pushed gently at his shoulders until I could look at his tear-filled eyes; they were bleak with misery.

"We will be safe there, Tom." I assured him, although to be honest I wasn’t sure whether that was completely true. "My family will help us."

I watched Tom bite his lower lip pensively.

"Your family will hate me, they will hate me for stealing you from Angel" he mumbled sadly.

"You didn’t steal me, Tom. I have given myself to you. You are everything. You are the keeper of my soul. They will love you because I love you."

"Do you?" Tom asked and then flushed as I flinched. "I’m sorry" he whispered

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

"Ahem"

The Doctor’s voice made me color with embarrassment. I had honestly forgotten that anyone else was there.

"Since it will take several hours to get there, and Neelix and I are quite capable of watching the autopilot, perhaps it would be a good idea if you took Tom to bed."

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

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

"That was a MEDICAL recommendation. Tom needs to sleep."

"Oh, you meant I should "Put" Tom to bed" I replied sagely, "You really must TRY and explain yourself more clearly Doctor."

Tom collapsed in giggles at my dry comment. As I helped Tom to his feet I looked over his shoulder at the affronted Doctor and gave him an apologetic grin. Understanding that my ‘wit’ had been an effort to cheer Tom up, the Doctor nodded his forgiveness and gave me a wry smile.

Tom was still sniggering as I helped him into the narrow bunk in the aft of the small craft. I smoothed the sheets and tucked a blanket tightly around his thin shoulders before kissing him gently on the forehead.

As soon as his head sank into the pillow, his eyes began to flutter as he struggled against his exhaustion.

"Sleep, honey." I urged him

"Will you stay with me?" he whispered beseechingly

"Of course" I replied softly "I am never going to let you out of my sight again, Tom."

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

"Tom?"

"Umm?"

"Why did you have a knife?"

"Just in case" he mumbled sleepily

"Just in case of what?" I probed

"In case you chose HIM" Tom replied, his voice fading as sleep descended

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

But it was one thing to have let the heat of the moment overwhelm me and another entirely to have ‘planned’ suicide in cold blood as Tom evidently had. I was going to have to be SO careful. Tom would have to be watched like a hawk from now on. I could only pray that on Dorvan we would find some help for his depression, some way to undo all of the harm that I had evidently done him.

Yet, it was so difficult to reconcile this depressed, suicidal Tom with the avenging spirit who had descended on Quarks. How the hell had Tom found the strength to trick his way back to DS9 and then FORCE me to marry him? (Not that I was complaining, of course)

"Tom?" I queried gently; uncertain whether he was still awake.

"Ummmmmmmm?" he mumbled sleepily

"Why did you come back for me?"

For a long time he was silent, his chest moving up and down so regularly that I was convinced that he was asleep, but then he answered me

"It wasn’t me"

I looked at him in bewilderment and then shrugged. Tom was obviously fast asleep after all. He must simply be dreaming.

"It was Passamaquoddy." Tom whispered and then rolled over and began to snore softly.

So he was completely unaware of the way I nearly fainted at his words.

Part 50 

JEANETTE

To an outsider, the entire Paris Family’s race to find Tom probably looked like dramatic overkill. Captain Picard had certainly been somewhat chilly in his welcome to us. Perfectly polite, of course, given Dad’s position and he had been perfectly charming to my mother, but then since they were both French and terribly well educated they had found an immediate rapport.

Elisabeth and I, on the other hand, were finding the Enterprise to be a less friendly place than we had expected. We knew that Dad’s hijacking of the ship was a high-handed abuse of his authority so we were not surprised that there was a certain level of resentment. But it seemed that everyone had watched the vid of Tom and Chakotay’s ‘escape’ from DS9 and the general opinion of the fugitives was not good.

Dad maintained that Tom had been kidnapped by Chakotay, who everyone knew was an unscrupulous Maquis terrorist. Dad dismissed Tom’s evident desire to accompany Chakotay as merely a symptom of his mental illness.

Everyone had seen Tom insist that his marriage to the criminal was completed, but the only person who dared refer to Chakotay as Tom’s husband had met with such fury that he had nearly been burnt by the heat of Dad’s angry words. Dad said that the marriage was either invalid or if it WAS legally valid it would simply be annulled, citing Tom’s illness as the reason.

Elisabeth and I were completely bewildered at first by Dad’s unquestioning acceptance of the idea that Tom was mentally ill.

He used his copy of Tuvok’s recommendation that Tom be hospitalized as if it were a magic key that could open any door.

He waved it in the face of all resistance, justifying all of his actions with the fact that Starfleet had the same duty to Tom as it had to any wounded veteran.

That the great, proud Admiral Owen Paris was determined to thrust the knowledge of Tom’s mental illness into everyone’s face was completely beyond my comprehension until I finally spoke to mother.

"It’s his way of protecting Tom." She told me gently, her fine-boned face serene as she sat in the observation lounge, staring out at the passing stars.

"Protecting him? By telling everyone that he is insane? At this rate Tommy’s going to spend the rest of his life in a hospital!"

"Your father is simply ensuring that Tom doesn’t spend the rest of his life in a jail."

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

"Do YOU believe that Tom is m- , um - not responsible for his actions?"

"I know that he is ill, that he has been suicidal, but no, I believe he knew EXACTLY what he was doing when he went back for Chakotay."

"So, Dad is saying Tom is mad so that when they get caught, Chakotay is thrown to the wolves and while he takes the fall, we grab Tom and make our escape." I concluded

"I believe that is the general plan."

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

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

"Because he’s mad" I spat sarcastically

"Exactly"

"You CAN’T possibly agree with this, mother. It’s obscene"

"I never said that I did. I was merely confirming your father’s reasoning."

I looked at her speculatively.

"So what ARE you going to do?"

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

"The one who helped them escape?"

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

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

"I don’t know Jeanette, perhaps I just can’t face the thought that Tom is insane. But it doesn’t matter what I think, all that matters now is the truth."

"And the truth shall set you free" I murmured

"Hopefully the truth will set Tom and Chakotay free." Mother replied with a sad smile.

"And if it turns out that the official version is the truth?"

"Then we go with your father’s plan." She replied grimly.

I shivered at the look of determination on her face. Mother would save Tom at any cost, I had no doubt of that, and the only question was whether his husband would survive the ‘rescue’.

HARRY

I was wetting myself, well not literally but pretty damn close.

I hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences of my actions. In the heat of the moment I had just done the only thing that seemed right. It was only as Tom and Chakotay dematerialized and I found myself surrounded by security officers, still clinging onto Tuvok’s legs, that the enormity of my ‘crime’ hit me.

I know that I immediately let go and froze, so it was completely unnecessary for them to have beaten me up so badly. Then they threw me in the brig and it was only Commander Sisko’s personal outrage that finally got me medical treatment for several broken ribs and a smashed jaw.

Since Dr Bashir was also under arrest, his visit was efficient but quiet. Several decidedly unfriendly Starfleet security officers closely observed his ministrations and I had no chance to ask him whether Tom and Chakotay had actually managed to get off the station.

So only the way in which Commodore Benson then endlessly interrogated me told me that they had escaped. Although no one would tell me anything, the very fact that he was being so abusive spoke volumes.

He worked on me for hours, demanding to know when I had joined the Maquis and how much Chakotay had paid me to aid his kidnapping of Tom.

I actually laughed at first, unable to believe that they had interpreted the events so badly. Several hours later I wasn’t laughing, I was terrified. The Commodore had finally given me the official version of Tom and Chakotay’s relationship.

Neither the Captain nor Tuvok had actually lied. Every single word of their report was true but they had slanted all of the facts to suit their own theories. So the truth had become the most horrendous lie, more so because it was so believable.

And if you accepted their interpretation of the events then my actions were indefensible. And evidently nobody believed a word that I had to say.

I was screwed, completely and absolutely. I would spend the rest of my life in jail.

But I didn’t regret my actions. My terror was not for myself; it was for Tom and Chakotay. I had always said that I would give my life for Tom, my freedom seemed a small price to pay in comparison.

The problem was that there was no where they could go. No matter how far or fast they ran, Starfleet would eventually find them and there was no doubt in my mind that Chakotay would never get the chance to give his side of the story.

I was facing a court martial, which was terrifying enough, particularly since I had been informed that a furious Admiral Paris was on his way to attend.

But no one was suggesting that Chakotay would be brought to trial. They spoke of him as though he was a mad dog who would be tracked and ‘put down’.

And then, what the hell would happen to Tom?

CHAKOTAY

There was once a mystic belief in phenomena called ley-lines. They were magnetic routes between sites of holy relics. It was said that the huge stones of Stonehenge in England and the Pyramids in Giza were moved by tapping into the energy of these so-called ley-lines and channeling the energy.

In the years I spent away from my people, I delved into a lot of ancient beliefs. Not in a search for enlightenment but in a skeptical way. Each new religion or mystic belief I found and discounted was a justification for my mockery of my own people’s spirituality.

In that far-off lonely time between Chinook and Angel, I filled the empty void of my heart with the bitter dissection and destruction of dozens of ancient beliefs.

So, I was uncertain why the thought of ley-lines came springing into my head as I sat on the floor next to Tom’s bunk. I had been badly shaken by his mention of "Passamaquoddy". It had given me the same dizzying disorientation as deja vu.

I had finally embraced my father’s beliefs and accepted my spirit guide, but I had done it with conscious skepticism. I had never actually believed in the spirit world. I saw my spirit walks as a form of meditation. My spirit guide was just the voice of my sub-conscious. My talks with Kolopak were just a way of reconciling my own inner doubts. I had never encountered anything in my spirit plane that wasn’t already in my own mind.

The spirits did not have any true existence. They were spiritual mumbo-jumbo. A DreamQuest was just a meditative tool.

And yet, Tom had mentioned "Passamaquoddy" and the minute I had heard the word I had been transported back to that moment in DS9 when he had attacked Angel and the world had shifted and I had seen him not as Tom but as a vengeful raptor.

Careful not to wake Tom, I had tapped into the ship’s computer and had run a search on the word. The first results only confused me further. The Passamaquoddy were a native Indian tribe who had lived in the Maine area of Northern America. They had no connection to my people or Tom’s. Furthermore, I knew that I had definitely never heard of them. Therefore they should not have appeared in my spirit walk, if it was truly only a meander through my own head.

There HAD to be an explanation. Some sub-conscious connection. I continued to scroll through the database. Kolopak had described Passamaquoddy as an individual, not a race of people.

And when I finally found the reference, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck quiver and goosebumps shivered along my arms.

"PASSAMAQUODDY – Also known as the Thunderbird. A mythical creature in the form of a huge eagle. Said to have been created out of the body of a brave young warrior who was put in a large mortar and pounded until all of his bones were broken and then molded into the Thunderbird, maker of lightning. See also Wochowsen."

I followed the reference numbly

"WOCHOWSEN, mortal enemy of Passamaquoddy. Before the advent of Passamaquoddy, Wochowsen was the most beautiful and powerful of the spirits. He was the controller of the wind and worshipped by all. But the Thunderbird made lightening and charmed Wochowsen’s admirers into worshipping him instead. Insanely jealous of Passamaquoddy, Wochowsen sent his damaging winds to prevent Passamaquoddy from ever returning home, and Passamaquoddy was battered mercilessly by the storms Wochowsen released against him."

So I simply sank onto the floor by Tom’s bed, shaken to the core by the co-incidences, as I considered the storms that were indeed gathering to assault us.

If Tom WAS Passamaquoddy, then presumably Wochowsen was Angel.

But who was I?

And as I considered the convergence of we three, the inexorable forces that had driven us innocently into a melting pot in which we would perhaps all be destroyed, I thought of ley-lines. Perhaps none of us had chosen our paths. Perhaps we had all been drawn along irresistibly towards a final battleground.

I could almost see the dark forces gathering around us like vultures and my heart was filled with despair.

Part 51 

ANGEL

By the time I woke up in sickbay, it was all over. Tom had stolen my ship and not satisfied with that theft he had also taken Chakotay with him.

I had known all along that Tom was dangerous but I had never imagined that he would have come back to steal my beloved. I had been so sure that he was on his way to a long stay in a mental hospital that I had stupidly let down my guard.

Since I had Heran diplomatic immunity, I had been able to pass straight through the queues during the disembarking of Voyager’s crew and had met a very helpful Starfleet officer, a Commodore Benson, who had quickly grasped the details of my problem. He had assured me that my ship could be impounded long enough for any rescue attempt by Chakotay to be futile.

I was not naïve enough to imagine that Benson was being helpful for any particularly selfless reason, there had been an unhealthy glee in his eyes at the thought of circumventing Chakotay’s plans. I suspected that there was some ‘history’ between the two men.

However, it didn’t matter WHY he helped me, as long as he did.

Captain Janeway had assured me that Admiral Paris was no more likely to let Chakotay near his son than he would ever get off his fat butt and leave Earth. I knew that if I could only delay Chakotay for 24 hours or so, he would never get the chance to see Tom again. I would commiserate with him, stand by him as he argued futiley with the authorities and then finally would return with him to Dorvan.

Like with any other dangerous addiction, his period of withdrawal would be painful but after enough time passed, Tom would just be a shadowy memory and Chakotay would turn back to me, where he belonged.

Except the little bastard had come back.

The only comforting factor was that Tom had been so ill and frail, his apparent strength merely a symptom of feverish insanity, that I suspected he would be incapable of any more acts of desperate bravado. He had attacked me, and my cursed Heran genes had forced me to quail under his puny blows when all I wanted to do was tear the little thief limb from limb.

Chakotay was mine.

I was horrified to discover that Chakotay had left with him, but not surprised. Tom had appealed yet again to Chakotay’s sense of honor. He had reminded him publicly that he had promised to marry him and had forced my beloved to accept his responsibilities. Chakotay didn’t love Tom. It wasn’t possible that he could love Tom. Tom was just playing on Chakotay’s emotions, confusing him, wearing down his resistance until he didn’t know WHAT he wanted.

Chakotay might THINK he loved Tom, but the truth was that he loved ME and it was about time I reminded him that he made promises to me too.

I was pretty damned sure where they were going. Chakotay was a pack animal. In times of crisis he would cleave back to his family for protection. With Starfleet snapping inexorably at his heels he would inevitably flee to Dorvan.

Without my ship I couldn’t follow him yet but that didn’t mean I was helpless. There were a couple of calls I could make.

Firstly, to Hera. My government was already smarting with indignation at the way the "normals" had treated us in the past. Now the Federation had granted us their protection, there were many diplomatic moves to trade with us for our superior technology. The fact that a "normal" had broken a solemn oath to one of her citizens would be sufficient spur to get a ship full of angry Heran ambassadors to come to my aid.

Dozens of Starfleet ships were already fanning out to locate the runaways. By the time he was located on Dorvan and arrested, I would make sure that we were already in orbit ready to take him away.

By that time he might welcome the opportunity to escape with me. And if not, well, in view of the current Starfleet anger towards "Chakotay - the Maquis Terrorist" it would not be difficult for Hera to demand that he was handed over to our government, especially if we offered sufficient "technological" sweeteners.

And because I was determined this time not to underestimate the insidious treachery of Tom Paris, my second call would be to Dorvan. I had prepared a transcript of the events leading to Chakotay and Tom’s so-called marriage. I would include all of the damning medical evidence of Tom’s evident insanity and would take care to point out that he was the son of the hated Admiral Owen Paris, one of the men responsible for the Peace Treaty that had destroyed their lives.

Surely Chakotay’s family would understand how dangerous Tom Paris was to Chakotay. Besides, a closed-planet like Hera was the only place where he would be safe from Starfleet’s wrath.

In a way, I was grateful to Tom. I had imagined that Chakotay would accept the commission he had been offered and would remain in Starfleet. Although that was a better option in my opinion than his previous dangerous Maquis existence, it still would have meant that we were frequently parted. Chakotay would never voluntarily settle down in one place and play happy families.

With the events that Tom precipitated, Chakotay had run out of choices. He was a hunted fugitive and I held the only "get out of jail" card.

So I had happily signed a ratification of Captain Janeway’s official version of events on Voyager. Fully aware that I was condemning my beloved to the vilification of Starfleet.

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

TOM

I was woken by the gentlest of kisses and opened my eyes happily to see Chakotay’s face hovering inches from mine, his brown eyes soft but strangely haunted.

"Chak?" I whispered with concern, "What’s wrong?"

But he flashed me a smile full of white teeth and dimples.

"Nothing, honey, it’s just that we are approaching Dorvan and I need to fix a geosynchronous orbit and contact my people, only I didn’t want you to wake up alone."

I smiled happily. He had promised to stay with me and he had kept the promise. I had gotten so used to broken promises that even this small example of caring filled me with blissful contentment.

"I love you" I assured him fiercely "go do whatever you have to do."

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

"Sure, Chak."

"I’ve prepared some lunch for you, Tomato Soup!" He said "Please try and eat it, you need to start looking after yourself more."

"And if I don’t, will you hold my nose and force me?" I joked

His eyes grew misty as he remembered that day. It seemed so long ago now. So much had happened since then, So much had changed.

"If I have to" He replied, his eyes flashing appreciation of my admittedly weak attempt at humour.

"Nah, I’ll be good" I promised "Then I’m going to grab the head and then try and look a bit more presentable before we beam down." I said bravely, trying to mask the fresh terror I felt at the thought of meeting his family.

As though he could read my mind, he smiled softly and kissed the tip of my nose in his usual show of affection

"It’s going to be alright, Tom. I told you my family will love you!" He assured me

"Have we been followed?"

"No, but now we are back in normal space it won’t take long for sensors to pick us up. I need to arrange our asylum quickly."

"Go on then," I shooed him away "I’ll be fine!"

He hesitated, unconvinced by my assurances but all too aware of the need for haste, and then he disappeared into the front of the ship.

I looked at the soup and my empty stomach growled with excitement but as I approached the small table, the smell made me suddenly nauseous. The very thought of eating made me gag. It wasn’t like my normal depressive refusal to eat; somehow it was more like a subconscious warning that my fast needed to continue for a little longer.

But the thought was far too nebulous to explain to Chakotay and the last thing I wanted to do was cause him more worry.

So, carefully, all too aware of the need to make Chakotay happy, I tiptoed to the head and flushed the soup away. Then I replaced the dirty bowl back on the table as evidence that I had eaten before returning to the tiny bathroom to clean myself up.

CHAKOTAY

After showing Neelix how to operate the strange Heran reverse thrusters, I nipped back to check on Tom. He was locked in the tiny bathroom and I could hear the merry splashing of water so I decided he was safe.

I glanced at the table and saw the empty bowl. My enormous relief that Tom had finally managed to eat was short-lived. Unless Tom had decided to start lapping soup like a dog, he hadn’t eaten the soup at all. The spoon was still as shiny and bright as it had been when I placed it in the exact position it was still in.

Since I knew Tom was as fastidious as a cat about his eating habits, the only explanation was that he had thrown the soup away.

My first instinct was to batter down the bathroom door and confront him. My second, and hopefully wiser, reaction was to pretend I hadn’t noticed. Tom was too fragile to deal with any confrontation, even one that was fuelled only by concern.

When we got down to the surface, when we had time to talk, then I would deal with what was, to be honest, only one symptom of his illness.

So I cleared his plate away and tidied up until I felt calm enough to face the others and then I steeled myself to make the call to my family that would either save us or set us running once more.

JEAN-LUC

"So what do you think of them?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant.

Deanna ran a pensive hand through her long black curls before replying.

"That’s a difficult question to answer. They are all quite charming, particularly Jacqueline."

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

"And the girls?" I prompted

"Jeanette is like her mother, Elisabeth has more of her father’s tendencies I believe. They are, however, both lovely young women."

"And what about Owen?"

Deanna frowned.

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

"You say that as though you don’t believe it yourself."

"Jacqueline doesn’t believe it, and she strikes me as a remarkably astute woman."

"Well, we will soon find out. We will be at DS9 in a few hours."

"I would like to attend your interview with Ensign Kim, if I may."

"I had every intention of requesting your presence, Deanna" I confirmed with a smile.

"You seem remarkably calm, Jean-Luc."

"That’s a strange thing to say." I said with a quelling frown which she chose to ignore.

"Is it?" She asked, her black eyes boring into my soul until I felt myself flush.

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

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

"No but he got his name, his upbringing and his security."

"Some security. Tom grew up never understanding why he could never please Owen, never knowing why he had to ‘learn’ to be a Paris. You should have stepped in before."

"I wanted to. After Caldik Prime I begged Owen and Jacqueline to release me from my promise. They refused. "

"Jacqueline regrets that now."

"Owen regrets the way he has treated Tom all along. Blood is important, Deanna but FAMILY is not just blood, it’s shared experiences. An adopted child is no less family than a child of your body is. Love and nurturing make a child your own. Owen IS Tom’s father."

"He didn’t remember that when Tom was sent to Auckland."

I shivered as I remembered my own impotent rage at Tom’s sentence.

"He had Tom released onto Voyager. It’s not his fault that the mission went so badly wrong."

"No" Deanna agreed reluctantly, "But what about you Jean-Luc? Are you going to just stand by again and let Owen make the decisions?"

I was quiet for a long time, looking at the faded cherished picture in my hands, the only picture I had of the son I had agreed to give up before he was even born.

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

Go to Part 52