by Melanie
'I know,' Tom ground out, snatching his hand away from his beloved's face. "Computer, beam Lieutenant Torres, to the Mess Hall."
B'Elanna dematerialized. He scrambled to his feet and entered the Ready Room. After a quick scan of Chakotay, slumped in the guest chair before the desk, he ordered him to the Mess Hall and turned his attention to the Captain. Thankfully, she, too, scanned as having no ill effects from the myzine gas. Tom gathered her in his arms to carry her over to the couch. After arranging her with a pillow under her head, he laid a hand on her cheek.
"You should have listened to everyone when I came on board, Captain," he rebuked her sadly. "They all warned you I was no good. You should have paid attention."
He pressed a kiss to her cheek then left, taking his things with him.
-------
Two meters from the doors to the Mess Hall, Tom halted.
"Computer, run Paris Sleep One Part Three in the Mess Hall."
A forcefield blinked to life and barred the doors. He waited semi-patiently until the computer announced Paris Sleep One Part Three was complete and the forcefield fell.
As he entered the Mess Hall, moans could be heard from the seventy-one Tom had beamed to the Mess Hall. They still lay on the floor, across each other, and slumped in chairs, wherever the computer had found space to stash them until he came for them. Now, as the antidote the computer had just administered began to counteract the myzine, Tom murmured quiet reassurances as he scanned each person in turn with the tricorder. By the time he reached B'Elanna, whom he intentionally had saved for last, most of the group were looking groggily around them.
"Tom?" she mumbled muzzily.
"It's okay, B'Elanna. Lie still for a moment. The myzine hits Klingons a little harder than other species."
"What is going on, Lieutenant?" Chakotay asked, bracing himself against a table a couple meters away to hold himself upright.
"All will be explained once everyone is lucid, Chakotay. In the meantime, if you can get everyone to take a seat?"
"Okay." Chakotay was reluctant yet did as asked, enlisting the aid of Neelix, Seven, and some of the others who were shaking off the effects of the gas faster than their companions.
When B'Elanna was awake enough to be moved to Seven's nearby and newly vacant chair, Tom stepped towards the empty space in front of the serving area. "If I may have everyone's attention, please?"
Everyone quickly noticed Paris or heard his voice and shushed each other. All eyes in the crowded room were focused on the only one who seemed to know why they were there and what was going on.
"I thank you for your patience and ask for a little more while I explain. All of you have been exposed to myzine gas. It is used as an anesthetic. Some of you may be experiencing a mild headache or nausea. Mild is okay and it will pass within a few minutes. If these symptoms get worse or any one develops any others, tell me immediately and I'll take care of it."
"How did this happen?" the Commander demanded.
Tom looked him straight in the eye. "I did it."
There was a collective gasp.
"All of you know that Voyager now is within two weeks journey of the nearest starbase. At the end of that time, those of you who came on board from Chakotay's ship are going to be facing Starfleet and no amount of good reports from Captain Janeway is going to make Starfleet totally forget about the fact you were Maquis. At the very least you will be permitted to remain in Starfleet with a formal note made in your records about your Maquis past. I doubt there would be much chance of a real promotion, but perhaps. At the very most, definite prison sentences. The only good thing about war with the Dominion and the Cardassians is that there is no chance of you being handed over to them. For the moment anyway. But one day the war will be over and Cardassians have long memories." He resisted the urge to flinch as Camet and his fellow Cardassians growled in agreement. "I don't think anyone in this room other than Seven and Neelix need to be told how they treat their prisoners."
The eyes of practically everyone, except the two previously acknowledged, dropped. A few people even cringed, the memories of their own experiences with the enemy or those of someone they had known coming back to them.
"So this is where you have to make a choice," Tom continued. "Will you take your chances with Starfleet being lenient and once the war is over the Cardassians not being interested in extraditing anyone who has been out of the quadrant for almost five years. Or, there is choice number two. Those who decide they don't wish to gamble on Starfleet can leave Voyager."
"How?" an ensign from Astrometrics wondered. "The nearest starbase is two weeks away so we can't just beam off the ship."
"Yeah," someone from the other side of the room chimed in, "and there are no habitable planets in the near vicinity."
"And we can't take some of the shuttles without their warp trails leading them straight to us," a crewwoman from shuttle maintenance added.
"I have a plan which will work," Tom assured everyone, "but I won't go into it now. For now all of you need to concentrate on deciding what your choice will be. Do you leave Voyager or not."
He scanned their faces. "I have done my best to include the significant other of each of the Maquis so you can make this choice together. If I have missed anyone, please inform after I've finished so I can rectify the situation. The ship's grapevine is only so accurate about who's with whom this week or whatever. Trust me, I know that fact intimately." His smile was somewhat off-centre.
"What about Seven and myself, Tom?" Neelix asked. "We're not Maquis or romantically involved with any of them."
"No, but I wanted to give you the same chance the others were getting. I can't predict the type of reception you will receive, Neelix, probably not anything untoward though. You will be the only Talaxian in the entire Alpha Quadrant. Your knowledge of your home region of space will be invaluable to future exploration of the Delta Quadrant so you most likely will be treated well."
He turned to Seven. "You, on the other hand, won't. If you think the reception you have received from some on Voyager has been cold or hostile, it will pale in comparison to what awaits you. Physically, you are more human than Borg now and mentally you are making great strides in re-assimilating to humanity, but that won't matter to those who lost family to the attempted Borg invasions of the Alpha Quadrant. Despite your progress, you will be seen as Borg first and foremost. You will have to decide if you can withstand that hostility or worse. Some people may attempt to seek their revenge on the Borg by going after you. The Captain and Starfleet might not be able to protect you from them."
Seven stiffened. "You think I might be murdered."
"Or imprisoned. Or sent to a facility to study you as a specimen. Or nothing bad could happen. You still deserve the same opportunity to consider your fate as the others, Seven."
"You are aware this is mutiny, Lieutenant?" Seven asked him.
Tom considered this for a split second then shook his head. "No, Seven. It would be mutiny if I were proposing we commandeer Voyager and make off with her. I merely am making an unscheduled stop for an unscheduled departure that's all. The ship will never leave the Captain's command. Not really."
"You are justifying your actions through a technicality."
"Yes," he answered simply.
"And what if one of the people in this room decides to do their duty and stop you?"
"That was a risk I was willing to take, but as you can see-" he gestured to the assembly quietly listening and watching them- "No one has done that, just as I figured they wouldn't. This crew is what the Captain calls it -- a family. I was betting on all the 'siblings' having enough respect for one another to permit each other the freedom to choose their fate. This is not about disrespect for the Captain or Starfleet or the Federation or duty. This is about the rights to individual freedom and personal safety, two things the Captain and Starfleet and the Federation and duty are very much about."
He made a gesture of conciliation. "Yes, strictly speaking this
is against the rules. And, strictly speaking, since part of Voyager's original mission was to capture any Maquis they could as well as recover Tuvok, then the Starfleet crewmembers who are here should be doing their best to prevent anyone from leaving. But that mission flew out the proverbial window the moment the two crews became one. I don't think you'll find anyone in this room who would attempt to force anyone to remain here against their will."
To that, Seven had no response. Even if she did not understand the others' behavior, she was aware that this crew's loyalty to one another was beyond question.
Tom addressed the others. "You have 30 minutes. If you are staying on Voyager, be in Holodeck Three by that time. The computer will make a general announcement when the time is up. If you are going, go to your quarters and begin packing. Only the essentials. You all know the drill. When I have finished talking with those who wish to remain, I will contact you with the next step. All of you may go anywhere you wish to think this over as long as you refrain from touching any of the rest of the crew. I've checked them all. They're all fine. Don't worry about them. If I haven't administered the antidote to the myzine within four hours, it will wear off naturally. As for the ship, she's all stop and there's nothing to worry about."
He paused for a moment. "I don't think I need to remind anyone that everyone here is an adult with right to decide his or her own future. No one will look down on anyone for choosing to go or to stay. If you don't agree with what I'm trying to do here or if you don't agree with someone's decision to go, keep it to yourself. Don't try to influence their decision. Agreed?"
The assembly nodded.
"Good. Computer, run program Paris Clock."
"Paris Clock running."
"I'll see all of you in thirty minutes."
Stepping back to indicate he had finished, he watched as they filed out in ones, twos, or small groups. No one came to him to inform him he had missed someone. He briefly enjoyed feeling of relief at having got something right when another feeling overtook him -- the feeling of Chakotay grabbing his arm and pulling him behind the serving counter and into the forekitchen. Tom could sense B'Elanna watching them, trying to decide if she should follow or not. For the moment, Tom ignored her.
"Do you honestly think whatever scheme you've hatched up is going to work?" the Commander demanded incredulously.
"Yes," Tom answered simply. "I have run the simulations for weeks now and it will work." With a jerk of his head, he indicated those who had not left for other parts of the ship to talk alone. "Even if everyone of them decides to go or only one of them, this will work. The plan is flawless."
"You've been working on this for weeks?"
"Yes."
A thoughtful expression crossed Chakotay's face. "Like eight weeks?"
Tom's eyes narrowed. "How did you know that?"
Chakotay gathered his thoughts and could not meet Tom's suspicious gaze. "You've been acting strangely for that long."
As the Commander rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the group still in the room beyond them, Tom's eyes narrowed even further. He was about to ask what was going on in Chakotay's head when the other man began to talk.
"So, you've spent two months planning this."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Why do this?"
"Yes."
"Because of the reasons I stated. None of you asked for this and you can't be sure what lies in store for you if you stay. You need the opportunity to make up your minds before it's too late to go."
"So you decided to give us that chance."
"I am the only one who could."
That got the Commander looking at him again. "Why only you?"
"Who else could help you? The Captain? Tuvok? Any of the rest of the Starfleet crew?" He shook his head. "No matter how much they would like to, they can't. They'd be sacrificing their careers. Imagine what that would do to their families. After so long of thinking them dead, to have them back, alive and well, only to be taken away from them again, to be court-martialled and maybe imprisoned. Yes, it is not as bad as their being thought dead or so far away in the Delta Quadrant, but they'd still be separated. There are visiting hours at most facilities, but its not the same as being there, in their home, with their family, free to go wherever, whenever, and with whomever they choose."
"But to do this...."
"Chakotay, I'm the only one with nothing to lose. They can't court-martial me again. I'm not Starfleet and haven't been for years. I came on Voyager as an observer." He gestured to his uniform. "I only wore this when I came onboard was because they felt it would cause fewer questions than if I wore civvies -" He laughed darkly. "-Or my official prison garb." He touched the Lieutenant jg pips on his collar. "I only wear these because the Captain needed an officer at the helm and gave me a field commission. It's not real. Starfleet Command would have to approve my returning to the 'Fleet and the reinstatement of my commission. I don't see a snowball's chance on Vulcan of that happening."
"Tom-"
He cut the Commander off. "None of that matters anymore, Chakotay. What matters is what all of you want to do now." He laid a hand on Chakotay's shoulder. "I can wake her if you honestly want me to. I don't know how strong your relationship is, but she might surprise you and want to come with you if you wish to go."
As the older man did not ask the identity of the "she," Tom took that as an indication they were on the same wavelength.
B'Elanna, apparently unwilling to wait any longer, appeared at Tom's side. Chakotay's reaction to her arrival clearly was one of gratitude.
"I'll leave you two to talk," Chakotay told them as he hurried from the kitchen.
"Tom, tell me you aren't serious about all this," B'Elanna implored.
"I am, B'Elanna."
"I see." She straightened her shoulders and looked up at him. "So, what are we going to do?"
Tom cupped her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek. "You are going to decide what you want to do."
"Me? What about us? We should decide together."
Drawing her into his embrace, Tom kissed her gently on the mouth then laid his lips beside her ear. "You know that if nothing prevented me I'd follow you wherever you went," he whispered, making as close to a verbal declaration of his love as he ever had made so far.
"Stray puppy," she whispered back. "Show you a little affection and you're mine for life."
His lips curved into a slight smile that faded back into seriousness. "You have to decide where you want to be, what will make you happy."
"What about what you want? What about us?"
"Forget about trying to conform what you want to what you think I'd want. You decide what you want and I'll be happy."
She turned her face into this neck. He could tell this simple statement had brought his strong, half-Klingon mate near to tears.
"Promise me you'll do that, B'Elanna," he murmured insistently. "Promise me you'll think about only what you want and make your decision accordingly." When she did not answer, he tightened his arms. "Promise me."
"I promise," she finally whispered so softly he almost did not hear it.
"Good." He kissed her on the side of her exposed neck then stepped away. "You need to think and I have some thing to take care of. I'll see you in thirty minutes."
"Tom?" Her teary voice stopped him before he could get more than a meter away. "You're not doing this because of me, are you?" she asked when he looked at her. "Because I once told you I didn't know if I could handle prison?"
He reached across the space separating them and touched her cheek with his fingertips. "Partly, yes. I couldn't stand the idea of you in prison." He grinned mischievously. "And with your... issues with authority, I don't think the prison could stand it either." The grin faded. "Mostly because of the others, though. Like I told Chakotay, they deserve a chance. I know first-hand how Starfleet treats traitors. Even with them now being against the Cardassians in this war, the old saying 'The enemy of my enemy must be my friend
' won't mean much once the war's over, if it means anything right now."
She smiled. "You're trying to redeem yourself."
One of his eyebrows rose a la Tuvok.
"The Maquis. It still hurts you that you were caught on your first mission for them. This is your way of making it up to everyone."
He merely shrugged and left the Mess Hall.
-------
It was so strange for him to be walking through the corridors of Voyager and seeing crewmembers lying on the decks, unconscious, yet not doing a thing about it. He did it all the same, however, until he reached his quarters. Inside, he withdrew a small, hard-sided case from the back of a drawer in his sleeping area. Opening the case, he tipped two padds onto the bed. After giving the contents of each a quick once over, he added them to the padd with the list of names and the hypospray in the medkit bag still slung across his chest. As he did he momentarily was mesmerized by hypospray.
Abruptly, he shook himself. That was for later. Right now he had things to do.
"Paris to Doctor."
"Is the Captain done her meeting?" came the eager response over his combadge.
"No, not yet."
The tone flattened. "Then there is an emergency you cannot handle."
"No. The maintenance teams have discovered a problem with the Holodecks."
"Everything seems fine here."
"It's with the controls. Until the problem is solved, you'll have to stay where you are."
"What exactly did Engineering say was the problem?"
"There wasn't time for specifics. Just that the doors weren't responding to commands and there was a problem with communications. I can call you, but you can't call me. You'll have to stay where you are."
"Well, how soon will it be fixed?"
"Most everyone from Engineering is occupied with something else at the moment." 'That much at least was true,' Tom thought, as quite a few of them were trying to decide whether to stay or leave. "It will be as soon as possible though. Sorry, Doc. Paris out."
Sitting heavily on the bed, Tom massaged his temples. He hated lying, even if it were all for a good cause. The Doctor had to be kept locked up for the time being. Hologram or not, the EMH was a Starfleet Officer. Tom did not want to find out how he would react to what currently was happening onboard. He could not risk the Doctor stopping him from doing what he had to do.