* These characters that I have used belong strictly to Paramount and the people who make Star Trek: Voyager, (the plot, however, belongs to myself). * I thank my sister Melike for giving me the idea, to my friends Ro, Jessica, and Eleni for helping with it and to my loving parents for always being there for me. Thanks! And now, enjoy!Title: SoulmatesAuthor: Zeynep "Fox's Girl" :o)Email: Foxygirl81@aol.comSummary: After an arduous battle with an enemy ship, Voyager asks the assistance of Pres. Threll, a man with a connection to B'Elanna and a hidden agenda. Now, Paris and B'Elanna must confront the past to protect their future and only their love can save them.Rated: PG-13Setting: Three months after the ep. "Think Tank"               "A #2 pencil and a dream can take you anywhere."                              - Joyce A. Myers                         Soulmates           The past tore them apart. Their love kept them together.                           By ZeynepPrologue:                              Love is a powerful force that can change the lives of everyone. It brings hope to the desperate, strength to the weak, and keeps those who are separate, together. It is the bond on which we as humans survive on. It is our truth. It is our guide. It is what helps us find one another. Chapter One     The members of the U.S.S. Voyager had become a family. Not only because to unite meant to become stronger - and strength was necessary in the uncharted regions of the Delta Quadrant. But they had become a family because they had a genuine love for each other. A captain's love for her crew, a parental, sibling, friendship sort of love. And a romantic love. The kind shared by two people in a celebrated moment of bliss and in the privacy of their own quarters.      "Here's to our year and a half anniversary," said Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres. She gently tapped her tall glass of wine to that of Paris'. The high clinking sound of both glasses touching echoed in Paris' quarters.          "The best eighteen months of my life," added Ensign Thomas Eugene Paris.     B'Elanna smiled. "Oh, definitely." Instead of drinking their wine, however, they moved closer to each other as they sat together on his couch.     It was Paris and Torres' eighteen month anniversary. A full year and a half since they had confessed their love for each other while stranded in space. They had spent everyday after that getting to know each other a little better. And after fifteen months, both parties were overjoyed that they had broken the barrier of shyness and had told each other the truth - that they love each other. And on this particular night, they felt especially happy sitting in each other's arms; in each other's company.     "Okay, now it's time," said Paris as he placed the glass onto the table and slowly stood up from the couch. He walked over to a small cabinet located on the wall next to his bed. B'Elanna sat upright, smoothing out the crinkles in her violet colored dress, and waited for Paris to explain what he was up to. Paris opened the cabinet, pulled out a small dark purple box, about the size of his hand, and walked back to the couch. He sat next to an anxious B'Elanna and placed the box in her hands. "This is for you. Happy Anniversary!"     B'Elanna Torres looked up at Paris and smiled with gratitude. "Oh, Tom, you didn't have to," she exclaimed.     "But I wanted to," he replied, his blue eyes as excited as B'Elanna's. "Come on, open it."      B'Elanna looked down at her present and, with great anticipation, quickly opened the box. When she saw the content inside, she nearly gasped in delight, exclaiming, "Tom, it's beautiful." She gently lifted the object from the box with her hand and held it in front of her eyes. It was a delicate gold necklace with a gold charm in the shape of a heart attached to it. It twinkled like the stars as the light hit it from all sides.      "Here, let me put it on for you," said Paris, taking a hold of the necklace.      "Please," B'Elanna replied, still dazzled by the gift.     She turned around and lifted her brown hair as Tom Paris placed the necklace around her are neck. And as he closed the clasp in the back, he said, "There. Beautiful."     B'Elanna curiously looked at the necklace, smiling like never before. "Where did you get it?"     "Actually, Neelix helped me find it. We got it during our stop off at the Marsett colony a couple of weeks ago."     "You mean you actually planned this night in advance?" she asked, impressed by his candor.     He smiled and said, "Yeah. You know me, always planning ahead."     She had to laugh at the irony of his statement. Tom Paris wasn't usual one to 'plan ahead.' "I guess I had you figured out wrong, Ensign."          Gently grasping her hands between his, he replied ever so sincerely, "Well, look at it this way: we have years to get to know each other better."     Nuzzling closer to him, she had to admit he was right. "Thank goodness for that."      After a minute of this passionate, but innocent exchange of affection, Tom Paris gently let go of B'Elanna and unexpectedly helped her get off of the couch. "Come on," he said, guiding her towards the door, "I still have one more gift for you."     Surprised, B'Elanna stopped him. "One more? Tom, you really shouldn't - ."     But he too stopped her midway. "I wanted to. Come on, we're going to the holodeck. I created a program just for us."     "The holodeck?" she repeated. "Exactly what program is this that you are taking me to?"     He smiled mischievously, like a little boy with an enormous secret. "It's a surprise."     She giggled happily, unable not only to keep her usual serious composer. But how could one at a moment like this? Just as the door slid open, however, a familiar voice came over the intercom.      "Will all senior officers, please report to the Captain's ready room." It was Captain Janeway, her voice as serious as ever.     Paris and Torres simultaneously frowned at the thought of leaving their anniversary dinner behind, but they both knew that duty called.     "Great," Paris sighed. It were times like these where he silently wished he was not a pilot or anyone important for that matter. At least then, he and B'Elanna could be given some type of privacy. He then turned to face B'Elanna, staring into her brown eyes with such compassion. He hugged her, almost sympathetically, and smiled. "I guess we'll just have to take a rain check on the holodeck."     B'Elanna nodded.  "Your right....A good officer is never late."                         ***     Paris and Torres had quickly changed back into their officer uniforms and had entered the meeting room only a few minutes after the call from Captain Janeway. They sat across from each other, periodically glancing at one another and at those seated next to them.     "I believe all of you are wondering as to the reason behind my request for you. Well," said Captain Janeway as she sat at one end of the table,  "Seven of Nine has brought to my attention of a planet that we are approaching. This planet accommodates a type of species who are all technological stable and well-advanced. Now, as you all know, our ship sustained a great deal of damage during our encounter with the Frasken Battleship. We are currently relying on our back-system and our shields are down."           Miscellaneous groans went through each person seated at the table as they remembered the chaotic experience. They had been pulled into an argument with Warnog, captain of the Frasker Battleship because of  his plan to overtake a ship that bordered an nonviolent planet in which the Tylocks lived in and ended up fighting them for nearly a month. They were extremely relieved that they had beaten the Frasker ship.     Quickly, Janeway broke the unwanted nostalgia and continued with her talk. "I don't regret our actions. In fact, the leader of the Tylocks personally thanks us for saving his people as well as the antimatter system his planet uses."     Tuvok followed with words of encouragement. "It was only logical for us to assist the Tylocks' distress."     She smiled in reply, relieved she had such a valiant crew by her side. "I'm glad you all feel that way. However, going back to the issue at hand. I believe you all know where I'm heading with this?"     Chakotay quickly asked, "You want to negotiate with the species so they may give us the needed supplies?"     "Exactly," she replied.     "But," continued Chakotay, his mind not fully at ease, "Do we know anything about this species; their culture, behavior?"     "We do know that there is a rather popular and large sect called the Remi Bitorians. They control about two-thirds of the planet and have much of our needed supplies," said Janeway     "Do they pose a threat to us?" asked Ensign Paris, his voice sounding more cautious than usual.        Janeway sighed, somewhat glad that her officer was going about things carefully now. His last on-the-whim incident had resulted in her demoting Paris to ensign. It was a disappointment she would never forget. However, he still came to these meetings because he was still their best pilot. And a pilot always had to know what could lay a head. "I hope not, Tom, Mr. Paris, but we're not sure, at least not yet. We will talk with them shortly. So," she said as she stood from her seat and walked behind it, clutching the back of the chair, "I am informing all of you of what we are about to get ourselves into. The Remi Bitorians might be helpful. Or they might even tell us to leave without assistance. But they might also be aggressive, a reaction I don't think any of us would be looking forward to."     "Thank you, Captain," replied Chakotay. "We will all be on stand by, just in case a problem arises."     "Good," she said, nodding. "Now comes business number two. There is a breach on the outer hull outside of deck four. It is near a conduit that leads to the main core. Now, normally, we would use the conduit itself or Jefrey's Tube to fix the problem, but that exact conduit and the tube were the two areas that received the most damage from the battle. So, I am going to need an engineer to fix it quickly and safely from the outside." Janeway turned to face Torres. "Would you mind fixing it, Lieutenant Torres, since you are the only one who is familiar with these types of problems?"     Torres nodded affirmatively. "Of course, Captain. I’ll get right on it."     "Very Good. There will be a suit waiting for you on deck four in 1700 hours."     "Suit?" Paris asked bluntly. He didn't like the idea of B'Elanna in a zero-gravity suit, considering that the last time she was in one she nearly died and, despite her confession of love for him, the chances of living were overwhelmingly slim.      "The suit is the only way B'Elanna can get access to the breach. A shuttle is too large to even get close to it. No need to worry, Tom, safety precautions will be taken."     Both Paris and Torres nodded, though not with the utmost satisfaction. In spite of that however, the captain straightened herself up and smiled appreciatively towards the senior officers sitting around the oversized table. "That's all. I thank you for your time and so now -."     But just as Captain Janeway was about to adjourn the meeting, a voice spoke over the intercom net. "Captain, we’re being hailed. It’s coming from the planet."                         ***                         Chapter 2     Only a minute after their meeting had adjourned, did Captain Janeway, and her officers enter the bridge. Both Janeway and Chakotay went back to their chairs and sat down, awaiting for the species to communicate with them. Lt. Tuvok and Ensign Kim quietly walked to their stations, while Seven of Nine marched back to engineering. Ensign Paris, after saying a quick goodbye and good luck to B'Elanna, entered the room  and sat down at his station. Though the air was obviously filled with a conspicuous tension, Paris could not help but think of B'Elanna. He knew that after they safely passed the area, he and she could return to their dinner. The thought forged a smile on him as he worked on the computer.      "On screen," ordered Captain Janeway, her voice serious and her face solemn.     A man's face appeared on the screen.     A Klingon? was Janeway's first thought. She turned to Chakotay whose expression equaled that of hers.            It was true. He was of Klingon origin, extremely surprising for the quadrant that they were in and so much so that the captain had to conceal her immediate shock. He was stern, that of someone who meant business wherever he went. He wore a gold uniform, with criss-cross patterns on the collar. And his voice was low as he began to talk.      "What is your identification and purpose?" asked the Klingon.      "I am Captain Janeway of the U.S.S Voyager and this is my crew. May I ask who I am addressing myself to?"     The Klingon answered, "My name is President Rommack Threll, leader of the Remi Bitorians."     Janeway winced slightly. She was not expecting to talk to the leader of half a planet so soon. She hoped he was an agreeable man and less prone to hostility unlike some of the others that she had previously encountered. "It is a pleasure talking with you," she said, nodding her head in a courteous fashion.     Threll grunted, unaffected by her greeting. He went directly to the point. "You are Federation officers? What are you doing in the Delta Quadrant and why have you contacted us?"     "Our purpose," Janeway began, "is to ask for your assistance. We are in need of a few supplies such as spare hull material and plasma molecules to fix our ship. We were hoping that you and your people would lend a few of these necessities."     He remained silent for a few seconds, considering her request with an upheld authority. He then replied, still not entirely convinced, "How do we know that you are not our enemy in disguise? We have had many people try many creative ruses in order to defeat us. I must warn you, I have one of -the best militaries in the galaxy. One ship poses no threat to us."     "I assure you,  President Threll, that we are not the enemy. We are merely bystanders looking for a helping hand."     Threll looked around the Voyager ship, or as much as his screen would allow him, trying to see if they were telling the truth. Nothing seemed suspicious. "Fine," he said, his voice somewhat more optimistic than before. "You have authorization. Transmit a list of supplies and remain on stand by until my men have gathered what you have asked for, but nothing more."     His pleasing attitude seemed surprising, but appreciated. "Thank you," said the Captain as she stood up and took a few steps closer to the screen. “Thank you very -."     But just as she was about to continue her sentence, an event transpired on the bridge, something that would greatly change the conditions surrounding them. B'Elanna Torres stood with her mouth open and her past rehashed.      "Rommack!" she bellowed, ignoring everyone else's presence on the bridge. B'Elanna had just entered the room a mere second ago to conduct a few transfigurations on the computer. The computer in the engineering room would strangely not allow her to do that and when she had entered the bridge, her eyes did a double-take at the screen. B'Elanna could recognize the man, yet she couldn't put her finger on it - until she had looked closer, her brown eyes squinting at the screen.      And then she remembered.      It was him, the man she never wanted to see again, but unfortunately had to. As Janeway finished her statement of gratitude, B'Elanna's memories of Threll caused her to  blurt out what she did.     "Lieutenant Torres?" said Captain Janeway, shocked at B'Elanna exclamation. But before she could reprimand her, Rommack Threll exclaimed the same to B'Elanna.     "B'Elanna?" he asked, bewildered by her presence. He recognized her almost immediately though was still strangely unsure. He did not know what to make of it. "B'Elanna, is that really you?"     The bridge remained silent, though their minds filled with unanswered questions.      "Rommack, what are doing here?" she asked.     "Helping your ship," he replied.       B'Elanna remained astonished, speechless.     "You know President Threll?" asked Captain Janeway, hoping to shed some light on the matter.     B'Elanna stood still for a moment still trying to regain her composure and her thoughts. "President?" she finally replied. It was like another slap in the face; another unwanted surprise. How can he be president? "What? Yes - yes, I knew - I know him." She stuttered with wonderment.     "B'Elanna and I," said Threll, assisting with the answers, "were engaged to be married seven years ago."     A soft, but surprised gasp swept through the bridge. Confused faces began to form on everyone. Even Captain Janeway did not expect this announcement.      B'Elanna stepped back, completely surprised by his public proclamation. "Rommack!"     "It's true," replied Threll, his voice growing angry, "But you left me at the alter."     B'Elanna shook her head and snapped back aggressively. "That's because you grew forceful and tyrannical! I couldn’t spend my life with someone like that!"     "All right, stop," ordered Captain Janeway, her hand in the air. She did not want this conversation to go on any further as heated as it was, nor did she wanted it broadcasted to the entire ship. "Lieutenant Torres, please follow me to my ready room. Ensign Kim, transfer Threll to my ready room as well. The rest of you, get back to work." And as she made her way to her room, she whispered to Chakotay, who stood silently by his chair, "I guess this isn't going to be as easy as we hoped it would be."     Chakotay nodded, confused by the whole ordeal, but still followed the captain to the ready room.     Once all three had entered the room, Janeway quickly looked at the screen to the left of the room. "On screen," she ordered.     The image of a disgruntled Rommack popped onto the screen. He did not seem amused at all.      "Now," began Janeway, "I hope we may have an orderly conversation since we are alone. I understand that you and Lieutenant Torres had an unpleasant relationship or perhaps still do. I wish that at least one of you could help us understand all of this."     "As I said, Captain, B'Elanna left me. We haven’t really talked with each other since then," Threll informed them.     "Frankly, I'm glad," replied Torres, her mind in a jumble. She could not accept the fact that she was really looking at her once future husband and would-be aggravator. "I left him for good reason. He had joined an underground fundamentalist group that was in search of supporters. I wouldn't accept that. I couldn't. Anyway, that's when I went to  join the Maquis."     "Is this true?" asked the Captain as she turned to face Rommack again.     Threll nodded. "When I knew she wasn't coming back, I decided to do the only thing that was left for me which was to join the group, but that did not work, so I joined a group of people heading out to fight with the Maquis. But our ship was thrown into a temporal distortion and we found ourselves here. After a while, when things seemed low and our ship in ruins, I took control, found an uninhabited planet and was chosen the leader of this nation. A story with a happy ending."     B'Elanna only eyed him carefully. "You probably forced the people to make you president. You were always like that you know.”     "I did not!" said Threll, his voice rising in anger and frustration. He still could not imagine explaining himself to a bunch of strangers, let alone his former bride-to-be. "Tell me," he bellowed, "What have you done with your life?"     "For your information," she snapped, "I am an engineer on board one the most powerful vessels in the fleet."     "So you say," he replied in a mocking tone of voice.      "Please, calm down," ordered Janeway, trying once again to keep peace about the ordeal. She did not want this to turn ugly or out of hand. Somehow that seemed easier said than done.                         ***     Ensign Thomas Paris could hardly believe it. It was something he had never expected to have happened. Another man claimed to be B'Elanna's former fiancé! Paris thought he knew B'Elanna. He thought he could tell her life story within a heartbeat, but now, he found out things that he didn't even think existed. It was his B'Elanna with another man. Sure, it was before Paris had met B'Elanna, and Paris had had his share of romances, but still, it felt wrong; it felt like someone had taken something away from him. And now, he needed answers.     Paris left his station only a minute after the captain, B'Elanna and Chakotay had left the bridge. He decided that the only way to find the answers would be to go directly to B'Elanna herself. He loved B'Elanna and he needed to know her side of the story. And as he walked down the corridor, towards the ready room, he only wanted to be there for her. That was all.      When he reached the sliding door, he silently walked in, the voices of two people growing louder and louder: it was that of Rommack's and B'Elanna's. He saw B'Elanna standing in the middle of the room, her face frustrated and aggravated. Oh, how he wanted to wipe way away her troubles, but he couldn't help her, not yet.                         ***     "You know nothing of me, B'Elanna!" exclaimed Threll, his brow furrowing and his voice in a tantrum.      "I know enough to stay away from you; to know you aren't as innocent as others might think you are," she replied.     Captain Janeway, at this point, buried her head in her hand and sighed. She sympathized with Lieutenant Torres as she yelled at a person she did not want to see ever again, but Janeway was tired and unable to do anything. When she lifted her head up again, she caught the glimpse of Ensign Paris standing by the doorway, concerned and confused. She nearly asked him as to why he was here and order him to leave, but she didn't because Janeway knew why he was here. Who wouldn’t want to know if their loved one had an unanswered past?     "You're the one to talk of innocent!" continued Rommack, a growing fury in his eyes. "Do you know how much you hurt me when you left? I had to face our families and our guests with such embarrassment."     "You deserved it! They didn't know of what kind of man you were inside; what kind of dark plans you really had in mind." B'Elanna's voice grew loud and forceful. Surprisingly, she did not care that both Janeway and Chakotay were watching. She didn't care that she was making a scene. All she cared about was getting this fury out of her system; out of her mind. She had so many things to say to Rommack about why she left, but at the same time, B'Elanna just could no longer talk to him. It was opening to many forgotten doors and too many unwanted memories.      Apparently, Rommack felt the same way. "I will not take anymore of this! I have too many other things to worry about!"     "As do I," said B'Elanna, her eyes never leaving the bright screen.     "Fine. Captain," he said as he turned to face Janeway, "I will continue with your request only because I do not go back on my word.”     "Right," B'Elanna sarcastically mumbled under her breath.      "Thank you," said Janeway, sighing as she did. "We will be on standby."     "Kapla!" Threll huffed. It was the Klingon way of saying goodbye, though his version seemed a bit more hoarse. And with a piercing stare at B'Elanna, the screen went black. The room became unnaturally quiet.      B'Elanna was the first to break the uneasy silence, though with a slight waver in her voice. "I apologize for my behavior, Captain and for the awkward situation I have put you and Commander Chakotay in. I assure you, it will never happen again."     Janeway simply waved her hand in front of her face as if brushing the matter away. "It's quite all right due to the circumstances that you were put under. Although I do hope you will handle your personnel matters on your own time."     "Of course," replied Torres, her eyes slowly drifting to the floor as if unable to look up. "Excuse me, Captain."     "Yes, you may go."     B'Elanna Torres nodded to both the captain and to Chakotay who stood silently by the wall. She then began to turn around, feeling embarrassed by the outrage she had demonstrated. And as B'Elanna began walking towards the door, wanting nothing more than to go back to her quarters alone, she nearly stopped dead in her tracks when she encountered a familiar face directly in front of her. Ensign Tom Paris stood motionless, his arms by his side and his body, unflinching. And though he remained in silence, his face spoke volumes: the questions, the concern, the astonishment.      How much had he heard? thought B'Elanna to herself. What was he thinking? He was there when Rommack had announced to the world that they had once been engaged and now, it had hit her that Paris must have so many questions and confusing feelings to talk about. But despite her urge to run into his arms and answer those questions, B'Elanna could not talk with him, not now. She didn't know what to say and frankly, she did not want to say anything at all. Everything was too chaotic for answers. Silently, she armored herself with her usual sterness and marched right passed him, softly brushing his shoulder as she did and walked out of the ready room.      Ensign Paris quickly followed B'Elanna out of the room, unable to let her go without telling him something. Not only did he want to be there for her, but he wanted an explanation.      "B'Elanna, wait," he said, once both of them were out of the room and into the deserted corridor. "B'Elanna, stop."     But she didn't. She continued walking, never slowing her pace down, towards her quarters; towards her sanctuary.      Paris wouldn't let up that easily. "B'Elanna, please, stop!" He reached out to her shoulder and gently brought her to a halt. "Please."     B'Elanna turned around, a mixture of confusion and anger on her face. "Tom, let me go. I don't want to talk right now."     "I know," he said, “but I think we need to." He paused for a second, looking at her face. He had a thousands questions in his head, but for some strange reason, he didn’t know where begin. However, B'Elanna did.     "What do want to know, Tom?" she asked. "That I was engaged before? That I left a man on our wedding day because I didn't agree with his ideas on certain things?"     "No," he said softly, shaking his head as he did. "I just want to know why you didn't tell me."     B'Elanna grew visibly frustrated. "Tom, there are probably dozens of things that you haven't told me about your past. Besides, this is my life. I didn't feel that it was necessary to tell you."     "But I thought that we were far enough into a relationship for both of us to tell each other about our past, especially when they concern major things like marriage."      "Tom, I can't deal with this right now!" shouted B'Elanna. "I just got through talking to a man I left in my past and I just can't take this as well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go." She began to turn around; to walk back to her quarters, when he called out to her.     "I'm sorry," he said. Paris knew that he had never meant to badger B'Elanna.     At the sound of his apology, B'Elanna stopped walking, but did not immediately turn back around. His words struck a chord in her heart and she stood there, gathering her thoughts and trying desperately to sort everything out. She hadn't meant to exclude Paris from her past; to leave him hanging as she did now, but everything today came too fast and too soon. She hadn't even realized that Tom would be affected by all of this until she had seen him as she left the ready room only a moment ago; until she had seen his face. She hadn't even begun to feel what he was he was going through.     Slowly, she turned around and walked back up to him. She looked at his troubled face and at the loving blue eyes that stared right back at her with such intensity and compassion that she knew not what to say. But B'Elanna realized right then and there that she could not keep this ordeal away from him for he cared too much.     "It's not your fault," she said, her eyes drawn to his gentle face.     "Then why won't you talk to me? Look, I understand that it was your past and it is your life, but now, I’m in your life too and you're in mine."     B'Elanna sighed, wishing silently that this day had never happened. "Because it was a moment in my life that I wanted to forget and when I saw Rommack today, it was like I was falling back into that phase; into that bad feeling. I just couldn't - I didn't know how to handle it...for once."     He remained silent for just a moment, absorbing in what she had said and thinking of how he was to respond. When he did reply, however, his question shocked not only her, but himself as well. "Did you love him?"     "What?" she asked, her voice slightly raised. She took a small step back, her face in complete surprise for she had not anticipated such a blunt inquiry. She did not know how to answer or if to answer at all. "Maybe...yes- no...once," she answered with a final stutter. "But when he changed, he turned into someone I couldn't love. You know, I don't know if I should even be telling you this."     Paris nodded his head, hoping that she would not become upset by his question. "You're right, I just...I wanted to know. But it was the past, I know...".     An unusual silence took place as they both tried to sort out all the revelations that had just unfolded before them. Paris sighed and then looked at B'Elanna. He did feel left out because she had not told him of her previous engagement, but on the other hand, he felt ashamed that he hadn't act more supportive or comforting in her time of chaos.     "Look," said B'Elanna, interrupting Paris' thoughts, "Let's just not talk about this right now."     "You're right," he said. He gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.     B'Elanna responded by slowly placing her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. For once, she didn't care about her crewmen seeing them like this. Too much had happened for her to care about anything. She sighed, comfortable in his arms, temporarily away from her situation.     "You know," said Paris, his voice soft, but optimistic, "None of this was part of your present." He chuckled as he referred to the anniversary gift he had planned for her.     "Oh, I hope not," she replied, softly laughing at his statement. It felt good to laugh, to be in his arms, to forget for a moment.      They stayed like that for a few more seconds, laughter and love still peering in through their clouds of aggravation.                         ***Chapter Three     His foot tapped nervously on the floor as he sat uncomfortably in his chair. He lowered his brow, angry, upset and completely disheveled on the inside. Why now? he thought to himself. Why?     Rommack Threll was not a man who took surprises with great welcome and seeing his former fiancée was definitely not going to change that now. He had not seen B'Elanna Torres for seven years and to see her again was just unbelievable. He had spent years trying to forget her when suddenly, she was standing right in front of him, shouting. It was not exactly what Rommack would call a happy reunion. His mind had done a whirl spin on him when had heard her call his name. Memories from their years together came flying back with an unrelentless fury. Their happy times, their joyous occasions...their bad times, all came back to him with such concise detail that he found himself shaking his head, trying to get them out of his mind. It didn't work. B'Elanna Torres, the woman he had loved, the woman he was to marry, was here, in his planet's space. He didn’t know whether to be happy or angry, but the thought of seeing her again caused a tiny smile to creep onto his solemn face like a foreign ray of sunshine on an otherwise gray afternoon. He always had a soft spot for her. Yet suddenly, as if reality slapped him on the face, his smile turned into a frown - an angry frown. Rommack began to think of the past; the feelings and memories of certain incidents flowing back into his mind like brilliant  images on a screen. The fighting, the arguments, the dark moments; all the bad times he had with B'Elanna. Though she had made him happy, he still remembered the one incident; that one event that had changed everything....     Rommack shook his head, almost violently. He had to stop. He had other matters of concern to worry about. B'Elanna was merely a new addition to his life. However, he knew one thing for sure: this was not the last time he and B'Elanna would talk; this was only the beginning.      He sighed audibly. Her presence did somewhat tilt the balance on all that had been arranged so far. The plans, the attack strategy. But perhaps, he could find a way to handle this situation; a way to make things seem in his favor. Yes, Threll thought to himself as he unconsciously scratched his dark brown beard that grew on his structured chin. Maybe his encounter with B'Elanna wasn't exactly a bad thing anymore. And he smiled.      "President Threll?" said a voice coming from the entrance to Rommack's main office. It interrupted his thoughts and caused him to grunt slightly at the newcomer.     "What is it?" Rommack replied roughly.     A small, but sturdy young male walked up to Rommack. He was not Klingon, but a true Remi Bitorian, with short, spiky brown hair on the top of his head and  hard ridges on the front of his hands and arms. He looked almost humanoid except for his eyes; they  were of a brilliant orange color with specs of gold filtering within them.      The man wore a brown soldier's outfit, with metal shoulder pads and metal coils around the arms. The pants were of a dark navy color and his shoes were bulky, proficient for the rigorous training that they endured throughout their service. And as he took a small step forward, he stiffened his back and summoned all his respect and courage in order to address his stern leader.      "Sir," the young man replied, "the supplies you have ordered are in shuttle bay three."     Threll nodded. "Good. I want a few of your men to go with the supplies when they are transported unto Voyager. I want them to...assist the officers on board." He had a plan.     Though this was not customary for his team to do, he accepted. "Yes, sir."      Threll then picked up a tricordor from his desk, pressed a few buttons and handed it to the young officer. "Take this with you. Read it and do as it says. Understood?"     "Yes, sir," he strongly replied as he took a hold of the tricordor.      "And also monitor all actions aboard and around the ship, Voyager. I want to be informed of all that goes on."     "Yes, sir," replied Tulone again though slightly confused about the ship.          "Good. Now go."                         ***     "You hailed?" asked a heavy-set man whose stone-like face could be clearly seen on the screen placed on the wall.      Rommack Threll nodded as sat down in his chair in the ready room. "Yes. I have a proposition for you. I think you will find it to your liking."     "That is for me to decide,” he huffed. “What is this proposition that you speak of? And make it quick. I am not in the mood for fancy words and hidden agendas."     "Ah, yes, I know that you are in the least of favorable moods. And I think that what I have say will uplift, if you will, that mood."     The man raised an eye, his skin wrinkling around the ridges on his nose. "Oh?"     Rommack smiled. "Let's just say, I have something that you want and you have the ability to get me something that I want."     "You have my attention. I'm listening."     "Good. Very good."      And they went on with their conversation.                         ***     The same young soldier who had previously met with Threll, walked back into Rommack Threll's ready room and stood still once he had reached the desk.     "Yes?" asked Rommack.     The solider straightened his posture and spoke up as he replied, "We have the information that you wanted, sir, from the foreign ship. The men brought it back safely."     Rommack stood from his large chair. "Good. Let me see."     The soldier handed him his tricordor and stood still again.     Rommack quickly looked it over, a tiny smile forming on the side of mouth. "This is excellent. Your ability to scan so much information is greatly appreciated."     "Thank you, President Threll. I must also tell you that we received some information about the woman on Voyager. It too is on the tricordor."     Rommack looked the tricortor over again and smiled even more once he read about B'Elanna's mission. "Good. You may leave. Oh, and hail Captain Warnog for me. He will want to see this and tell him, it's his turn."     The soldier walked out the room and left Rommack to his tricordor.                              ***Chapter Four     Life is grand.     Life is also unpredictable.      It can be spectacular one second and the next, horrifying. It can hide the unwanted moments in the dark crevices of the past, and then resurface them at any time and at any place. It confuses, bewilders and, in Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres' case, it can make everything seem entirely worse.      After an interesting discussion with Rommack Threll, and a revealing talk with Ensign Paris, B'Elanna was indeed ready to go to her quarters and take some time to straighten out all of which had happened in the last half hour. She needed some time to sort things out and decide exactly what she was going to do about Rommack. Just the thought of him being in the same galaxy seemed unnerving to her. This was a man who not only planned to a terrible assault seven years ago and drag B'Elanna through it, but he had no regard for morality or honor all together; ideals that B'Elanna held close to her heart. She had to do what she did in order to save her family, her people. But she did not want to think about it; to remember all that had happened during that turbulent time in her life. B'Elanna became upset at herself whenever she thought that way; that Rommack had ruined a part of her life. She was a headstrong person with an unrelinquishing will and to think that one man had wavered her esteem like that just seemed so absurd.      But not anymore.      B'Elanna, while sitting alone in her quarters, had made up her mind. He had disrupted her life once, but not again. Her meeting with him today was going to be the last. She said her reasons; she confronted her past and she rose above it. She had a new life; with new friends, new familes and Paris, her true love. It was final: Rommack Threll was not going to bother her anymore. Or at least, that’s what she hoped.     B'Elanna Torres wished she had more time to herself, but that was not to be. Captain Janeway had called her two hours into B'Elanna's time alone to remind her of her presence in the shuttle bay. B'Elanna was to fix the outer hull near the conduit leading to the main core. And that's where she was heading right now; walking down the long corridor, towards the room where her suit awaited her. As she walked hastily past the other rooms and exits, she saw her crewmen moving past her. And though she was not looking straight at them, she could feel their eyes looking at her; wondering about her public encounter with Rommack Threll and the accusation that he had placed on her (though it was true).      It's none of their business, thought B'Elanna, the frustration growing within her as it usually did when she felt something was wrong. They didn't know all that had happened, all that had been done...     Just then, B'Elanna reached the door to the shuttle bay. The door slid open and a rush of stifling warm air brushed against her face. She walked in and noticed Captain Janeway along with Lieutenant Tuvok standing by the hatch to the outside. Her suit hung on a small rack by the side wall. Both officers had been talking to each other just as she had entered the room.     "Ah, B'Elanna, glad you could make it," said Janeway, her voice pleasant and sincere.     "Yes," replied B'Elanna, her brown eyes darting from the captain to Tuvok intermittently. “I’m ready whenever you are, Captain."     "Good,"she said.      Tuvok punctuated. “I have already taken the liberty of entering the coordinates of the exact location of the fault into your suit computer. The suit, itself, has an oxygen supply of over 24 hours which should be more than enough time for you to fix the fault and return safely."     "Thank you," she replied, smiling. Despite the awkward timing with this mission, B'Elanna was somewhat glad she was going on it. It would take her mind off of the current situation.      "Well, let's begin, shall we?" said Janeway, eager to resolve the predicament.      Both B'Elanna and Tuvok nodded and began to get ready.                         ***     The air was tense and the situation, nearly chaotic. Soldiers ran from one end of the bridge to the other, punching codes and information into the computers as fast as their fingers would let them. Warnog sat in his captain's chair, shouting orders, while placing a firm hand on the arm rest of the chair. It wasn't that he was nervous, just not as organized as he would like to have been. He had planned his idea only an hour ago, giving him little to work with. He only hoped all would go accordingly.     "We have the coordinates," said a soldier off to Warnog's left.      "Good," he replied. “Stand by and wait for my orders. We want to do this as quickly as possible. I will not tolerate any fancy work. I want a simple, clean-cut win."     "Yes, sir." The soldier continued his work, telling the others of the captain’s demand.                         ***     "How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" asked Captain Janeway through B'Elanna's intercom.      "Just fine," Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres replied, although she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. She was hot, uncomfortable from the oxygen suit and more nervous than she would liked to have been. But, B'Elanna knew that complaining about wasn't going to help the situation.      "How is the conduit coming along?" This time Tuvok asking the question.     "Good, but I still have the last coordinates to work on. Give me another ten minutes an I'll be done." At least that was what she hoped. The suit gloves weren't making it any easier for her.     "Take your time, B'Elanna," said Janeway. "Just be careful."     "Yes, captain," Torres replied.      B'Elanna Torres was floating just above the deck four conduit in her oxygen suit, punching in orders into the mini computer attached to the arm of her suit. She had spent the last fifteen minutes fixing the breach and was nearly finished. She was glad about that too. Though the mission had caused her to forget the previous event, the thought of being somewhat alone in space, with only a suit to protect her wasn't exactly comforting.      The sights weren't bad, however. Everywhere she looked, there were glimmering stars that seem to be smiling and winking at her. She felt like she was back in Paris' room, watching the stars with him by her side. It caused her to smile for a second, but just for that, for then she frowned when she looked to her left and saw the planet that Rommack and his people inhabited. Funny, B'Elanna thought to herself as she worked on the breach. The planet looks almost peaceful. Though, she knew that wasn't the case with Rommack living there.                         ***     "Their shields are still off line, sir," said a soldier to Captain Warnog from across the bridge.      The captain smiled, another patch of skin wrinkling around his mouth. "Excellent," he replied. "Rommack was correct in his assumptions. Begin now, and I'll want no mistakes."     "Aye, Captain." The soldier, as well as the other soldiers on bridge, went into full action.      The captain merely sat back and watched. This would be easier than he thought.                         ***     "How are things coming along, B'Elanna?" asked Captain Janeway, her voice, calm but slightly tense. She did not want B'Elanna to be out in space too much longer. Janeway was always someone who did not like putting crewmen into harm's way.     "I'm almost done, Captain.” replied B'Elanna. She frantically worked on the repair, continually punching in orders and reconfiguring the last couple of points. "Give me just a few more seconds and I'll be almost done."     The captain smiled. "Excellent work, B'Elanna. Continue-." But suddenly, Janeway stopped short of her sentence, her smile turning into a noticeable nervous frown as she concentrated at the computer screen next to her. Something was wrong.     B'Elanna immediately picked up on the captain's hesitation. "Captain, is there anything wrong?"          "I’m not sure. I'm detecting a high energy field, but it's not coming from Voyager." Janeway was looking intensely at the computer screen. An unexpected warning signal flashed on the screen, producing a small amount of apprehension in both the  captain and B'Elanna. This is not supposed to happen, thought Janeway to herself as she hastily began trying to find out where this energy was coming from.      However, Janeway realized that that was should not be her first course of action. Getting her crewman out of there and back onto Voyager was - repaired conduit or not. "We're bringing you back in, B'Elanna." She turned to face Tuvok who stood steadily beside her. Her expression said it all for him. He knew immediately what to do.     Quickly, Tuvok turned to the officer sitting at the console next to him. "Bring Lt. Torres back in and work on getting our shields back on-line."     "Yes, sir," the officer replied.     Tuvok turned back to Janeway who looked uneasily out the window into space. "There is no need to worry, Captain. We are bringing the Lieutenant in."     "I hope you're right, Tuvok," replied Janeway still looking through the window.                         ***     B'Elanna Torres, always persistent with her duty, continued to find out what the energy interference was and where it was coming from exactly. It caused her to feel slightly tense for she did not know who else was out here with her. She hoped that Janeway and Tuvok would transport her back to Voyager as soon as possible. For once, the conduit could wait.                          ***     "We have a problem."     "What's wrong?" asked Captain Janeway to Officer Tolden, who sat at the console next to her. She walked over to him, immediately concerned with Tolden's announcement.      "I can't get a lock on Lieutenant Torres. There's a signal blocking us." He continued punching in the coordinates into the computer, though with no success.     Janeway grew tense. She glared at the screen that incessantly rejected the coordinates for Torres. "A signal? From what?"     "I think it's a transportation signal, but I don't know from where."     "Find a way to get around it. We need to get Lieutenant Torres back on Voyager now." Then Janeway, her voice raised, tapped her communicator and said, "Ensign Kim."     "Yes, Captain," replied the voice from the bridge.      "There's a signal interfering with our transportation unit. I want you to track it down and try to disable it. And I want you to do it as fast as you can."     "Yes, Captain." Quickly, Harry began scanning the area for the source of the signal.      Janeway then turned back to Officer Tolden who still tried to lock on to Lieutenant Torres coordinates. "How's it coming?" she asked, hoping he had good news for her.     Tolden did not reply at first. He merely looked at the screen and blinked his eyes in utter surprise. And then he turned to face the Captain, and replied, "The signal, it's locked onto to Lieutenant Torres."     "What do you mean 'locked on'?!"      "Something's transporting her away from Voyager."                         ***     "We have a lock on Lieutenant Torres," announced the soldier to the captain.      "Good," Captain Warnog replied, still sitting in his chair, "Now beam her aboard."     "Yes, Captain."                          ***     B'Elanna Torres hoped that Voyager would beam her aboard already, but the fact that they hadn't yet meant something was very wrong. And she knew it had something to do with the energy field.     Suddenly, a voice came through her communicator. "Lieutenant Torres," said Janeway.     "Yes, Captain," replied B'Elanna.     "There's a signal- locki- to-." Surprisingly, Janeway's message began to crack.     "Captain, you're breaking up."     "We- trying-."     "Captain!" Lt. Torres pressed her communicator once more, but still Janeway's message came disconnected. She couldn't understand what was being said, but something told her that she would find out soon enough. B'Elanna glanced at her arm and saw her molecular structure begin to seperate.      I'm being transported, she immediately thought. And in the time span of a second, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres was no longer on the outer hull of Voyager. She was no longer anywhere near or inside of Voyager. Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres was gone.                              ***     "Lieutenant Torres is gone," said Officer Tolden in complete shock. He could only gaze at his computer screen.     "No!" shouted Captain Janeway. She looked at the console that reported Torres' disappearance. "How can this happen? Scan for any ships near this area. I want to know who took her now."     "Yes, captain," he replied.     Janeway then turned to Tuvok, a determined look on her face and ordered, "Go toRed Alert!”                                 ***Chapter Five     "Who did this and why?" asked a very concerned Ensign Paris.      Indeed, that was the question everyone on Voyager was asking. But the answer would not be as easily obtained as they all had hoped.  While the crew remained on stand-by, Captain Janeway had ordered a Senior Officer meeting to discuss Lieutenant Torres' abduction and plan a way to bring her back onto Voyager.     "Unfortunately, we don't have those answers yet," Janeway replied. She turned to Harry Kim. "Harry, were you able to locate the transportation signal?"     He nodded. “Yes, captain, but by the time I did, the signal had already begun to deteriorate.     "Good try," said Janeway, sitting at her seat. "Officer Tolden had detected a ship about two light-years from here, but it too moved out of range."     "They wanted to be quick, so as to be undetected," concluded CommanderChakotay.      "I agree," replied the captain, her hands folded firmly on the table.     "But why?" asked Paris once more. "Why take B'Elanna?"      Janeway leaned forward. "I don't know, but we’ll find her. I promise."     Paris sighed noticeably and leaned back against his chair, agitated and confused. The woman that he loved had been kidnapped and he was helpless. Please, be safe, B'Elanna, he thought to himself, somehow hoping that she could hear him. If only she hadn't gone on the mission. If only....     Janeway's voice brought him back to reality. "We are starting a search for Lt. B'Elanna. However, I want any information about Lt.Torres transferred directly to me first. I do not want anyone other than Voyager receive that because it could be used for unlawful ways. On another note, our shields are back on-line as is most of our main power. Now maybe we can get our officer back as well. You are all dismissed."     And with a final sigh, the senior officers rose from their seat and went back to their stations in hopes of finding their missing officer.     "Ensign Paris, will you stay a minute?" asked Captain Janeway, standing behind the table.          Paris walked up to the captain, his face solemn and his nerves wrought with guilt.     Janeway waited as the last of the officers left the room and she and Paris were alone. "I just wanted to tell you, that I know you and B'Elanna are very close and I realize that this all must be horrible to experience."     You don't know the half of it, he thought.      "But, please know," she continued, “that we are going to try everything in order to get B'Elanna back. She is part of our family and we will never give up."     Paris nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Captain. That means a lot."     She then put her hand on his arm, to comfort him. "Don't worry, Tom. We'll find her."     I hope so, thought Paris as he nodded at the captain and began to head out of the room. I really hope so.                             ***     He walked with a sense of confusion and denial. It wasn't so much that he didn't believe that it had happened, it was that he didn't want to believe it. As he walked down the ironically bright corridor, he felt as if he were in some sort of dream, like he was going to wake up any moment and see that everything was all right. Oh, how he wished it were a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't.     Ensign Tom Paris couldn't relax for one second. He couldn't afford to because his love, B'Elanna, was somewhere out there, taken against her will and held without reason. How could they have done this to her? he thought to himself. It was the one question among the many others that drilled at his mind and yearned for an answer. That's what he needed right now, along with B'Elanna safely at home, he needed the answers. Captain Janeway had told him that they were going to find her no matter what, but he couldn't just wait for some piece news, some inkling of hope. He needed to find her himself.      The door slid open. Paris walked onto Shuttle Bay One and made his way toward Ensign Kim. He was determined to get some answers and asking Harry help was the first logical step.      Ensign Kim noticed Paris stop next to him as Harry worked on the exterior portion of the Delta Flyer. "Tom, what are doing here?"     "Harry, I need your help."      "Sure, what do you need?" He knew this had something to do with B'Elanna.     "You tracked the signal that was interfering with B'Elanna while she was on the outer hull, right?"      "Yeah...," he replied, slowly realizing where he was going with this.     "Can I get a record of the signal that we saw? Maybe I can try to analyze it. I can even get Seven to help me." Paris seemed so eager to find a clue in B'Elanna's abduction.     But Harry sighed in a regretful tone. "Tom, I don't think it'll work. I mean, I tried to analyze it too, but I couldn't get a clear enough ship configuration. I can still give you the signal if it'll do you any good."     "Yeah, it will," he replied, still garnering the hope left in him.     "Okay. I'll download it to Astrometerics."     Paris smiled, the first in hours. "Thanks, Harry. I owe you."     "No problem," he said. "It's least that I can do."     "Oh, and by the way," added Tom as he neared the door. "You might want to check the manual panel over on the side. It controls the shuttle energy field for the most part."     Harry looked over at the panel and smiled. The advise would make his work on the shuttle go by faster. "Glad to know you're still on your toes."     Paris acknowledged his good friend with a smile and said, "Aren't I always?" And he then left the shuttle bay.                                                  ***     "And you're sure no one detected you?" he asked with a deep concern.     The other man shook his bulky head. "No, I'm sure of it. I specifically avoided that mishap."     He nodded, and leaned back against his chair. "Good. We can't afford any mistakes."     "I guess," the other man continued, "our plans are complete then."      "Almost. My men are about done and there's just the final touch that is needed."     "When do you want to finish the 'final touch'?"     The man scratched his beard as he so often did when contemplating something large. "Very soon. You can even begin your part of the plan."     The man laughed, a sinister laugh. "With pleasure. I've been waiting for this for a few weeks now."     "Have fun, Captain Warnog."     "I will, President Threll."     And with that, Warnog disappeared from Threll's screen, eager to proceed with the plans that both men had so carefully thought up of.                         ***Chapter Six     "This is futile," remarked Seven of Nine to a more hopeful Ensign Paris.     "It is only futile when all possible ways, theories and possibilities have been tested." He continued fervently to analyze and decipher the signal recorded from the enemy ship that had kidnapped B'Elanna.       Seven persisted as well. "What do you hope to accomplish?"     He looked up at he from his seat in front of the computer, wide-eyed. "To find a clue."     "A 'clue'? Rephrase." The English language was still a tad difficult for the former borg.     "A...lead that can help me find the people who took B'Elanna. By analyzing the signal, maybe I can find traces of a ship and then go on from there."     Seven shrugged her shoulders, unconvinced of his plan. "Again, it is a futile attempt, but...well-intentioned. You are persistent. That is admirable. However, you do know the captain is also trying her best to find Lieutenant Torres."     Paris nodded. "I know, but, when someone you love is in danger, you can't just sit and wait. A part of me feels like it's missing and I don't know how or when or if I’m going to get it back. That's the terrifying part, the questions that can't be answered, at least not yet. And the fact that I can't do anything, that's the worst part. I can't protect B'Elanna from the people that have her. I can’t be there to comfort her. I feel helpless. Like she is... And to sit and watch someone else fight for her is the least admirable act in my book. I have to do something to find B'Elanna. You'll understand one day, but I hope to God you never have to go through what I’m going through right now."     The words struck a personal note with Seven, leaving her at a, for once, speechless state. Perhaps it was because she hadn't known what love was or because she didn't know if she would ever love someone that deeply. Quickly, though, like the blink the eye, she dismissed her questions and thoughts as unuseful, and finally replied, "Impatience can often lead to mistakes. I, Mr. Paris, hope that never happens to you." She then walked over to the computer by the other wall and began to help Paris with his task.     He looked at Seven as she diligently worked on the signal and thought about what she had said. It was odd to know that underneath that stone shielding was actually someone who cared. It proved that there was hope for Seven after all.        Quickly, Paris shook his head. He didn't want to think about anything but B'Elanna. That’s all that matters now. He turned back to the computer on the console and continued analyzing the signal, in hopes of finding something important.        Suddenly, a new face interrupted his search. It entered the room and innocently stood beside a frantic Paris. The ensign looked up to see Neelix fidgeting with his furry fingers and smiling that ever encouraging smile at the same time.      "Hey, Neelix," said Paris, a bit too wearily.      Neelix didn't mind the tone. He could understand the yearning, the helplessness Paris felt. "Hi, Mr. Paris." He nodded curiously to the former borg standing on the other side of the room. "Hi, Seven."     She nodded, but quickly returned back to her duties.      "What can I do for you, Neelix?" said Tom. Despite the fact that he wanted to get back to the search at hand, Paris couldn't help but feel glad his friend had come to see him.      "Oh, yes," replied the Talaxian. "I was just wondering if I could help in any way. Whatever you need. After all, I am the morale officer and, well, I'm here to offer morale."     Paris had to smile at the eagerness and kindness of his friend. "Thanks, Neelix, but I think Seven and I have it covered."     He nodded understandingly. At least he tried. "Well, if you need me, you know were to find me." But as he headed towards the door, ready to walk back to the Mess Hall, he stopped. There was one thing left to be said. Turning back to face the ensign, Neelix said, "I'm sure you'll find B'Elanna. I mean, you two are soulmates and that's a bond no one can come between."     Paris hadn't expected those words from Neelix. Somehow, they brought more than just encouragement; they brought hope. "You think B'Elanna and I are soulmates?" he asked.      "Of course," said Neelix. He began to walk closer to the ensign as if wanting to defend his case. "I could tell just by seeing the way you two look at each other. You see, being soulmates means that you two are meant to be; meant to grow old together. You two have a spiritual connection that brings you closer together where ever you two may be. Love transcends life and death. So, it can never be ignored."     Paris wholeheartedly agreed. He had known there was something special between himself and B'Elanna, but he supposed he never had the words to describe it. However, Neelix did. "Thank you, Neelix," said Tom.     Slightly confused, the Talaxian asked, "Why? I didn't do anything."     "Yeah, you did. You gave me hope. Thanks."      Neelix replied by nodded his head in a welcoming gesture. "It was my pleasure." He then walked out of the room, leaving optimism in his place.     Soulmates, thought Paris. Yes, that's exactly the word he had been searching for.                           ***The Next Day     His soldiers moved hastily and in a disciplined fashion through the bridge of the ship. Captain Warnog watched them work as he sat in his captain's chair. It pleased him to know that everything was going accordingly.     A soldier from his left called out to him.     "Captain, we're being hailed."     "On screen." He looked at the screen in front of him and saw an image of Rommack Threll appear before him. "Good Morning, Threll."     His tone was slightly more serious than that of Warnog's. "Same to you. I hailed you to tell you that we are ready. My men have finished. You will be on stand by."      Warnog nodded. "Of course. I must say, this is some plan you've thought up of. I just hope it goes well."     Rommack looked straight at the captain, his expression, confirmed. "This will not fail. I know it will not." And with that, the screen went blank.                         ***                              Ensign Tom Paris ached as he stood up from the chair in front of the console. He had never left the computer from the night before and had dosed off as the wee hours of the morning began to emerge. Though he had stayed up most of night working on the signal, he had accomplished a little past nothing. At one point, he had found a residual signature within the signal but it was far too small for the computer to match it with any other ships in the vicinity. Nevertheless, Paris recorded his finding and had given it to Harry just in case.      He began walking toward the exit of the room. He decided to go to his quarters to change and so forth. And then what? he thought to himself. Go to work and wait for something about B'Elanna? No, I can’t do that. I need to find her, but how?     It was this constant argument with himself that had busied his mind and kept him from going crazy. Crazy from not knowing where she was and if she was okay. If they had done something to B'Elanna, Paris did not think he would be able to restrain himself from hunting them down. But he didn't like thinking about the worst case scenario. He hoped that B'Elanna was okay and would return home safely.      Suddenly, a voice over the com link interrupted his thoughts. It was Captain Janeway, her voice serious. "All bridge officers to their stations now."     Now what? he sighed. But as he walked towards the bridge, a part of him silently hoped that maybe, just maybe, the announcement had something to do with B'Elanna.                         ***     The atmosphere around Captain Warnog was hectic, but it was understandable, since he along with his soldiers were excited about the news that would come any moment. And it did.     "On screen," said Warnog, sitting in his captain's chair.     "Warnog," said Pres. Threll.      "Yes? I'm listening."     Rommack replied sternly, "Begin the attack."     Warnog smiled enthusiastically. He had been waiting for those words for days. "Yes, sir."      The screen went blank, Warnog stood up from chair, the smile still on his face and ordered, "Begin."                         ***Chapter Seven     Ensign Paris entered the bridge just in time to see chaos take its course. Crew members raced from station to station, typing orders into each computer. They were rushing against...what? Captain Janeway answered his question.     “Glad you could make it, Tom,” she said, standing confidently by her chair. “We’re under attack.”     “From who?” asked Paris as he quickly made his way to his station.      Janeway sat down in her seat, her eyes continuously fixed on the main screen. “From the same ship as before: Captain Warnog’s Frasker battleship.”     Again? thought Paris. The last time they had fought Warnog, Voyager had sustained a certain amount of injuries. That's why they had to befriend Threll. And that's when everything fell apart. Quickly, Paris ceased anymore inquiries and hastily began coordinating flight maneuvers that would hopefully keep Voyager out of perilous waters.      Janeway ordered, "Harry, hail Warnog. I want to see what his problem is with us."     Less than a second later, Ensign Kim replied, "He's on screen, Captain."     A burly middle-aged man with a rough, yet wrinkly outer layer of beige skin popped onto the screen. His appearance resembled that of clay dried by the sun. "Captain Janeway," he said.     "Captain Warnog," she began. "I was wondering as to why you have attacked my ship. Did we do something to offend you?" Despite the tension in the air, Janeway  remained diplomatic, calm and cool. It always frustrated her opponents.      "You interfered with our plans, plain and simple," his said nonchalantly. "We do not tolerate such behavior."     Janeway stood up, obviously unintimidated by her aggressor. "If I'm not mistaken, and I'm not, you and crew were about to take over an unarmed ship safe guarding a peaceful colony on an another planet. Our actions were justified."     He puffed loudly. "I do not recognize your justification, captain." His words were harsh and terse. "Prepare to battle." With that, the screen went blank.     "Well," said Janeway, taking her seat. "I suppose we're going to fight. Paris, use evasive maneuvers. I don't want to start unnecessary war."       Suddenly, the ship rocked aggressively from side to side. Officers had to tighten their grips to keep their balance.     "They have fired on us," exclaimed Tuvok. "Our shields are down to 80%. They have weakened our sensors."     Chakotay clutched to his seat. "Looks like we're not going to be the ones who start this war."     "There coming in for another strike," exclaimed Ensign Kim.      "Continue evasive maneuvers!" said Janeway. She was not about to let an unfair, relentless alien destroy her ship.     Due to teamwork and fast action, Voyager bypassed the photon torpedo aimed at them. They were now circling in on the offensive.      Captain Janeway knew it was about time they fought back. Violence was not the objective she wanted but she needed to protect her crew and ship. “Aim torpedoes -.”     “Captain,” abruptly said Seven of Nine. “There is unmarked shuttle approaching Voyager.”     Janeway did not finish her command, but rather looked back at her post-borg officer, perplexed. “Do we know who it is?”     Seven fervently worked on her computer to answer the captain's question. “Sensors are weak, but....” And suddenly, her eyes widened as she looked up at Janeway. Seven was always prepared to handle any unexpected event, however, what she discovered caused the utmost surprise. “It is Lieutenant Torres.”     With those words, the entire bridge grew silent. They were all grateful that their officer was located, but her arrival was so sudden. Where had she come from? Who had brought her here?      Those questions did not seem relevant to Ensign Paris however. The moment he heard her name, an enormous relief flooded over him. B'Elanna was all right. She was safe. Now all he wanted was for her to be back on Voyager. "Captain!" he yelled.      Janeway looked at her pilot and smiled. "I know exactly what you're thinking. Harry, open a channel. Tuvok, keep those torpedoes ready."     Within a second, B'Elanna face appeared on the screen. An audible sigh filtered throughout the room as each officer realized that Lieutenant Torres was, indeed alive and well.     "B'Elanna," Janeway began, "How are you?"     "I’m fine, Captain.” She smiled to bring credibility to her words. The screen flickered. There was some sort of interference.      “I’m sure you’ll tell us everything once you’re on board. We’re going to bring you in.” Janeway was thrilled that her officer was finally home, though she was curious to know what had happened to B'Elanna in the first place.     “Yes, Captain,” she replied.       Paris stared at B'Elanna; at this woman he cared for so much. She looked more beautiful than ever, radiant even. She's strong, that's why, thought Paris to himself. That was one of things he admired about her.      Suddenly, Tuvok uttered the very words Paris would never forget. “Captain, the Frasker Battleship have aimed their weapons at the shuttle.”     An uneasy feeling came over the captain as she turned to face her trusted officer. “You mean Voyager?”     "No," he replied assuredly. "On the shuttle."     Paris knew exactly what that meant. "We have to do something!"     "I agree completely," Janeway replied. She had lost her officer once. She was not going to lose her again. "Harry, beam B'Elanna aboard! Tuvok, fire torpedoes at the Battleship!"     Both officer did as they were told. Tuvok fired at the ship. The torpedoes slammed into their shields causing a display of a fireworks.      "Their shields are down to 80%," replied Tuvok.     Janeway smiled. The injury to the Frasker Battleship would gain Voyager some much needed time. "How's B'Elanna?" she then asked.     Harry's words were less appreciated. "I can't get a lock on her, Captain. There's a signal blocking the path."     Just like before, thought Janeway, referring to the first abduction. But this time there would be a different ending. “Hail her,” she ordered. Perhaps Janeway could warn B'Elanna about the impeding danger.     But Harry shook his head. “Communications are down.”     Tuvok announced to the bridge, “Warnog has retargeted the shuttle.”     Paris could feel his stomach tighten. Why couldn’t B'Elanna be home? Safe and unharmed? But he knew that asking questions was not going to get her home any faster. He needed to be calm so that he may focus on protecting her. He looked up at the captain who sat at her seat. “Captain, we can’t let them fire on B'Elanna.”     “I agree,” she said. “Place a tractor beam on her shuttle.”     Harry shook his head once more. “We can’t get a lock on her shuttle either.”     “They have fired, Captain,” said Tuvok.       “No! B'Elanna!” Paris shouted. Why was this happening? Why to her? He had to protect her.      Janeway heard Paris' cry for help, and even though every part of her being wanted to stop those torpedoes, she didn’t know how, except.... “Tuvok, counteract their torpedoes. Fire!” Perhaps Voyager could destroy Warnog's torpedoes before they reached B'Elanna’s shuttle.      And the crew watched as fate hung in the balance. They watched as their own torpedo raced to meet the other one. They hoped.     Paris hoped.     Closer inched the torpedoes.     Closer....      They missed.     "B'Elanna!" exclaimed Paris as he realized the inevitable.     A audible groan filtered throughout the bridge as each crew member watched their own torpedo miss Warnog's. They watched as his torpedo hit and shattered B'Elanna's shuttle. All they could do was watch....                         ***Chapter Eight      In one moment, everything that once had stability within this universe can become uprooted. Life can alter without warning or preparation. All that is becomes a memory of the past. However, the reasons as to why change occurs is constantly undefined. The questions of what if and why become remnants of what was. If only one could answer those questions, then perhaps life would be easier. If only one could change what was changed, then perhaps the answers would not be necessary.     Ensign Thomas Eugene Paris sat at the conference table in the ready room. His eyes seemed to focus on what was being said by the captain, but, in fact, there was no relation between himself and the real world. Paris concentrated solely on the event that had transpired a mere 20 minutes ago when his love, his girlfriend, Lt. B'Elanna Torres died.      Why didn't I fix the conduit? he asked himself. Why didn’t I shield her shuttle from those torpedoes? Why? There were so many ways he thought he could have protected her. If only he had thought of them sooner.      He sighed, wishing silently hat B'Elanna was sitting here beside him. He just couldn’t understand how she was gone. Maybe he didn’t want to understand it. Could anyone blame him?      “Tom?” said a voice.      Startled, he looked up to see captain as well as the senior officers staring at him. “Yes?” he said, distantly.     Janeway softened her face as she began to understand what Paris would be feeling right then. “I know this must be difficult for you. It’s difficult for all of us. I, for one, can’t accept it right now.”     He nodded slowly, but remained silent.     Chakotay agreed with the Captain. “B'Elanna was a friend to us all.” And he knew. She was there for him during their Maquis days.      Harry, however, wanted to get to the bottom of it all. “I just don’t why they would kill B'Elanna in the first place. She posed no threat to them.”     “Perhaps,” said Tuvok, “they wanted prove that they were serious; that they wanted to fight.”     Janeway did not want to know why this had happened. She wanted justice as she determined that the rest of the crew would want too. “Right now, I want to know why our torpedo failed to hit Warnog’s.”     Tuvok cleared his throat as he began to explain. "Although Voyager's main power system was back on-line, our weapons system was only at 50%. Our sensor array was also damaged when Captain Warnog's ship had fired on us."     Unfortunately, Janeway found no comfort in his words. She only wished things could have been different. "Well, I assure you, that we will find the reason to this event. Right now, I have decided that B'Elanna death will not go unnoticed. If Warnog wants a battle, he will get one. And we will win, for B'Elanna sake." As the officers nodded in acknowledgment, Janeway turned to Paris and said, "Tom, I understand if want to take some time off - ."     He stopped her, and replied, with certainty in his voice. "With all due respect, ma'am, I want to fight. Warnog will pay for this."     Janeway nodded. She expected this from Paris especially: this vengeance. She only hoped it would not destroy him in the process. "All right. Then you all have duties. Let's go finish this once and for all."                         ***     "Aim torpedoes. Fire." The crew of Voyager watched as the torpedoes Captain Janeway had ordered hurdled towards Warnog's ship until they finally exploded on impact.      "Hail Warnog," Janeway commanded. "I suppose that got his attention."     "He's responding," said Harry.     "On screen."     Warnog popped onto the screen. "So you fight with our back turned, do you?"     Janeway did not flinch, but remained calm. "No, we fight fair and we fight only if necessary. You on the other hand, murder for no reason whatsoever. You killed one of my officers. An unarmed, innocent bystander. Why?"     Warnog shrugged. "A small price to pay for war."     Paris, who had been piloting the ship, catapulted from his seat and yelled at Warnog. "That's not an answer!"     "Tom," said Janeway. His outburst could cause Warnog to retreat from this face to face confrontation.      Paris thought he could keep himself from erupting into a flurry of emotion, but there was too much to contain; too much that needed to be said. "How could you?!"     "Because," began a suddenly disheveled Warnog, "she was in the way. Maybe you could even call her a prelude to what will come."     His nonchalance and arrogance disgusted Paris. "Don't you feel any remorse? Any decency? You make me sick!"     "And you think I care?!" he replied just as passionately.     "No," answered Paris, his breathing heavy. "But I do. You'll pay for what you have done to B'Elanna!"     "Tom, stop!" came Captain Janeway voice. She knew what Paris was feeling, but his anger could hinder Voyager's chance at attaining the justice that B'Elanna deserved. "You are dismissed from the bridge."     He shook his head in denial. "No, Captain! He has to pay!"     Janeway nodded at Tuvok who understood her demand. He calmly walked over to Paris and took a hold of his arm. "Come, Mr. Paris."     But his cries continued. He turned back to the screen as he was let out of the bridge. "You can't get away with this!" he shouted. "You won't!" His exclamations were heard even after the door slid shut behind him.     Janeway felt sympathy towards Paris and agreement with his anger, but they needed to go about it in an orderly fashion.      Warnog, who had finally regained what composure he thought he had, barked, "You should discipline your officers more severely."     That was it. For once, she agreed with Paris. "My officer," she began slowly, but seriously, "is correct in what he says. You will not get away with this, Warnog. I'll see to that myself! Off screen."     The room became silent in the aftermath of what had just occurred. A battle now seemed inevitable, and though fighting was not Voyager's way of dealing with situations, it seemed fitting. To everyone in the bridge, Warnog had killed a crew mate and had become an enemy. Somehow, Paris's outburst did not seem all that out of place after all.                         ***Chapter Nine     In the background, the sounds of officers running and torpedoes firing echoed loudly. The battle with Warnog was in full throttle and everyone on Voyager knew it. Except for one person.     Ensign Tom Paris sat on his bed and stared out into the oblivion that was his room. The noise outside of his quarters did not register to Paris for he was somewhere else, thinking, wondering how everything could have been different. Wondering if it were all dream. If he could have stopped it somehow.      He thought about B'Elanna, the life they had shared; the life they could have shared if not for what had happened today. It was what had happened that played in his mind over and over again. An event that had no reason to it, only a life-altering consequence that he desperately wanted to erase.      Paris sighed slowly. If B'Elanna were here, he thought, everything would be better. If only she hadn't died....     Died. Somehow, the more he thought about B'Elanna's death, the less he could accept it. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel real. But he knew that was only denial talking. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.      It was then that the image of Warnog came barging towards him. He could not fathom how someone could be as cold-hearted as Warnog; could not care like he did. Honestly, Paris did not want an answer to those questions. He wanted justice, revenge. He wanted Warnog to understand what he had done B'Elanna.     Suddenly, the door chime abruptly ceased any more of Paris' thoughts. He looked up and sighed again. He did not feel like visitors. "Not now," he said.      The door opened nonetheless. It was Captain Janeway, hands behind her back and sympathy on her face.      Paris winced slightly. He did not think it would be her. “Captain,” he said slowly. He was about to get up from his bed when Janeway motioned for him to sit back down. He followed.      "How are you feeling?" she asked. Truthfully, she knew the answer, but wanted to be thoughtful.      Paris shrugged his shoulders. "Hurt. Sad. Angry."     She nodded. "That's understandable." She walked over to him and cautiously sat on the edge of his bed, as if wanting to be as least disturbing as possible. "I'm sorry, Tom. I’m sorry this happened to B'Elanna and to you."     "So am I," he replied. He then shook his head as if in denial. "You know, I don't get it. I don't know why she taken in the first place. Or why Warnog did this to her." He hesitated before continuing. He wanted to tell her the truth. "Captain, I feel like she's still here, like she never left. I can’t accept her death. Maybe I don't want to."          Janeway listened to him and understood his quandary. "At first, I didn't accept it either. And then I thought about it.....It will take time. B'Elanna was a good officer, Tom. And a good friend. Voyager will not forget her. "     He nodded. "I know. Thanks."     Janeway knelt her head slightly. She didn't know what to say next. This was  something she never wanted to have happen; something she was never prepared for. She then looked at the direction where the incessant sounds of phasers rang out. "We're holding up against Warnog's ship."     The sound of his name brought a chill to the room. "Doesn't give up, does he?"     "No," she answered, shaking her head. "And neither will we." She paused as if bracing herself for what she was about to say next. It would make the situation that much more real. "We can hold a service for B'Elanna. But we can talk about it when you feel comfortable enough."     A service. He could no longer deny the truth. “Yeah. A service would be nice.”     “Okay,” she replied softly and smiled. She then stood up and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. She was there for him, and he knew it; he appreciated it. With that, Janeway, began to make her way out of his quarters.                         ***     His ship shook with an immense fury. Though he had predicated this much, the determination and speed that which the phasers came surprised him. He did not mind, however. It was worth it.     Captain Warnog turned to face the large screen located across from him in the bridge. "Hail Threll," he said.     “What is it?” came the voice of an apparently occupied Threll.     Warnog smiled. “It is all going according to plan. They put up a good fight, I’ll give them that. Much more impressive than the first time.”     He nodded. “Never underestimate a Federation Starship. They are as strong as they are stubborn.”     “I’m counting on it,” replied Warnog. He then took in a large breath and asked, curiously, “So, our deal is complete, I assume?”     A grin spread across Threll’s face. “For now. Remember, our primary plan is still underway.”     Warnog nodded in gratitude. “How can I forget. I look forward to it completion.”     Threll nodded in agreement and the screen went blank.                         ***     Ensign Paris had sat in his quarters for nearly an two hours after his outburst in the bridge. He had contemplated everything from what could have been to what would happen now. And after those two hours, Paris had come to the conclusion that he would not let B'Elanna’s death go overlooked. Therefore, he gathered himself together and decided go back to the bridge. It was time for him to fight back.      But as he walked towards the main control room of the ship, he passed Engineering. It was then that a part of Paris thought that B'Elanna would be in that room, working fervently to keep Voyager in top form. A part of him thought that if went in there, she would be waiting for him. He had told himself that B'Elanna was no longer alive, but something in him remained unconvinced.      Suddenly, a voice from behind interrupted his thoughts.      “Tom!” It was Harry Kim finally catching up to the fast-paced Paris. “I’m glad I found you. You wouldn’t believe how chaotic it is around here now that we’re fighting Warnog. You know, his ship is equipped with almost every weapon there is.”     “I know, that’s why I going to the bridge to help.”     Harry cocked an eyebrow. "You think that's wise? You know, with what happened today?"     Paris stopped his promenade and faced the officer. "Harry, I know you’re looking out for me, but I need to do this...for B'Elanna's sake."     Harry nodded in agreement. "I know. Just be careful."     “Thanks,” he replied, a small smile on his anxious face. He began to continue his march to the bridge when Harry stopped him again.       “Oh, hey, Tom, I forgot to tell you,” said Harry. “Remember that signal you gave me? The one that came from the ship that had taken B'Elanna before.”     Before she had....“Yeah.”          “Well, I think I found a match.”     All at once, everything began to look up. “A match? With what? How?”     “With Warnog’s ship. I used a few new configurations and his ship was the first and only match. I think we have our culprit.”      Paris' eyes widened with astonishment and comprehension. "Warnog? He took her? Of course. It all makes sense."                         ***     “It doesn’t make sense,” said Captain Janeway as she paced back and forth behind her seat at the conference table.      "Why not?" replied Paris. The moment Harry had revealed that most imperative piece of information, Paris would not consider anything else. Warnog had kidnapped B'Elanna, he was certain of that. If only the captain was too. "The signatures match. Warnog was in the area the last time we had seen him. Warnog's ship has the capability to out run ours. It all fits."     She placed her hands on the table and sighed. "But why, Tom? Why take her, then bring her back and then kill her? What purpose does it have?"     Tuvok spoke up. “If what Paris is saying is true, then perhaps, Lieutenant Torres had escaped and destroying her ship was the only way of stopping her.”     “Yeah,” said Kim, “But either way, we still would have had a battle with Warnog because he kidnapped her in the first place.”     “Okay.” Janeway stood up straight and tried to collect her thoughts. “Say Warnog had kidnapped B'Elanna. Why?     Paris did not have an answer for that yet. “I don’t know. But we know he took her. That’s all that matters.”     Janeway looked at her agitated officer, at the face ridden with sadness and hope. She had to agree that these new circumstances were too good to ignore. “Harry, I want you to hail Warnog. We’re going to have a talk with him. Tuvok, you and Seven try to dig up anything you can about Warnog, his ship and the day B'Elanna was kidnapped -.”     Suddenly, Commander Chakotay’s voice came over the intercom. “Captain,” he said.     She tapped her badge lightly. "Go ahead, Chakotay."     "We're being hailed."     "By whom?" she asked, curiously.     "President Threll."                         ***     Chapter Ten     The moment his name was said, there was not only a sense of inquiry, but alarm as well. The crew of Voyager remembered the argument that had occurred between Threll and B'Elanna mere days ago and ever since then, questions had hovered over the mysterious president about his relationship with B'Elanna; about his character.      Captain Janeway, along with Ensign Paris, walked into the bridge and stood before the screen. They waited until Threll’s face presented itself. And when it did, so did the tension.     "Captain Janeway," he began slowly.      "President Threll,” she replied, "Can we help you?"     He smiled. "On the contrary, I was thinking I could help you. Battles can be so...overwhelming."     There was something in the way he said his words, that made Janeway grow tense. As if he were intimidating her. "I didn’t think you were willing to take sides."     "Well," he said, shrugging his large shoulders. "I usual do not interfere in matters not of my own, but I have made an exception just this once. For...B'Elanna's sake."     It was then that Paris recalled the tension that Threll had once put in B'Elanna. And the way he said B'Elanna's name - how dare he? "What would you know about B'Elanna?" he said.     Not again, thought Janeway. "Tom."     Threll grew defensive at Paris. "More than you will ever know."     His words sparked an anger in Paris. "You don't know anything! You lost her a long time ago!"     "And now, so you," he puffed ever so dramatically.     "Stop this, now," Janeway ordered. She did not want anther chaotic rumble in her control room. "Ensign Paris, I think it's best you leave."     "But, Captain!" he protested.     "Now, Mr. Paris," she insisted.      Unresolved and frustrated, Paris marched out of the room leaving an equally distraught Threll on the screen.                          ***     Ensign Paris paced back and forth behind one of the many tables situated within the Mess Hall. There was anger, resentment, all blending together within him, mostly concentrating around Threll and the audacity he had to speak of B'Elanna that way. Paris could only reassure himself that Threll was only bluffing; placing frustration on an already inextricable ordeal.     “Wouldn’t you want to sit down?” came a voice from next to him.     Paris turned around and saw Neelix standing beside him, a concerned expression on his face. “I can’t sit down,” he answered, continuing his pace.     “Than how about I get you a nice cup of coffee?” He only wanted to help.     “No, thanks.”     “Oh.” Neelix knew Paris was affected by all that was happening. But he also knew that talking about it helped release the tension. “I’m sorry about Lieutenant Torres.”     Paris stopped moving and looked at Neelix. He was always a good friend to him. “Thanks, Neelix. That means a lot.”     Neelix nodded. “She was good friend to me; to everyone.” He then chuckled softly, old memories coming back. “You know, I remember when she’d sit in that seat and talk to me about work and life in general. She had a great sense of humor contrary to most belief.”     Somehow, Neelix’s words gave comfort to Paris. It placed a joyful portrait of B'Elanna in his frame of mind. "She always liked coming here. Great service."     He laughed in reply. "She was wonderful." Neelix then smiled genuinely at Paris. "I'll never forget her."     "Neither will I. Like you said, Neelix, soulmates can never separate entirely," Paris replied thoughtfully. He couldn't forget her. She was too important to him; too wonderful; too close to his heart.     His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a new face, whose voice ushered him back to reality.      "Tom," said Captain Janeway, walking up to the conversing friends. "I'm sorry I took you out of the bridge, but we couldn't risk starting another battle."     Paris nodded understandingly, but his thoughts remained in a jumble. "What happened with Threll?"     She sighed. "He still wants to help us."     "You can't let him"” he exclaimed. His frustration returned. "He can't be trusted!"     Surprised by his outbursts again, she motioned for him to calm down. "Tom, we don't know that."     "But you saw how he treated B'Elanna before," he said referring to that revealing argument. "Why would he care about her now? Why would he help us for her sake?" And then he stopped and thought about he had just said. "For her sake," he repeated. "Why would he say that unless...he knows." And it all came together. "He knows B'Elanna's dead."     Neelix shrugged his shoulders. "The captain probably told him that."     Janeway shook her head. "No, I never told him. And none of my crew members were supposed to reveal any information outside of Voyager."     "Then how would he know?" asked an equally bewildered Neelix.     "Exactly," said Paris, proclaiming that what he had theorized was true. "I'm telling you, Captain, he's up to something."      She didn't know what to make of any of this. A part of her agreed with Paris for there was always something upsetting with Threll. But, a part of her needed a reason - proof. "Okay, I'll have Seven check up on President Threll. Maybe there's something we don't know about him. Until then, I want you to stay in your quarters."     Paris grew frustrated. "Why? I can help you, Captain."     "I know that, Tom, but you've had a long day. You can't possibly go on like this."She was only looking out for his best interest.     He shook his head in disagreement. "I can't just sit by and wait. What if Threll is hiding something? What if -!"     "Tom, you can't make accusation like this," Janeway replied. "I know you miss B'Elanna. We all do, but that doesn't mean we have to start looking for conspiracies and theories just so we can undo the past. Now, I want you to stay in your quarters. That's an order.”     Paris stared at her first, thinking, reflecting, wondering if she was right; knowing that she wasn't. But he had to follow her command. Regretfully, he sighed. "Yes, ma'am." With that, he turned slowly, and marched towards his room.                         ***     Ensign Paris knew in the bottom of his heart and in the far reaches of his mind that something was not quite right. He could sense it, feel it, hold it in his grasp. But to prove it to others, that would not be as easy.      He laid on his bed and glared at a monotonous ceiling, thoughts floating through his mind like leaves on a windy day. He tried to sort them out, to give them credence, but they were only stray images and encumbered feelings. Things that needed time to forge themselves into a whole. But he had no time.      Paris sighed audibly, wishing to himself that he could go back into the past and change what had happened. Then B'Elanna would be safe and they would be together. This war would have never existed and Voyager would never have met Warnog or President Threll for that matter. The latter of the two names seemed to cause the most disturbance in Paris for something inside of him led him to believe that Threll had a part in this entire unfortunate event. That Threll was not as innocent as he had proclaimed to be. That's what B'Elanna had said during her encounter with Threll. She had said he was 'not as innocent'. How Paris wished he would have done something about it then. But how would he have known it would go this far?      What do I know now? he asked himself. He only had feelings and accusations. No evidence. But evidence of what? Of a conspiracy that included Threll? Of a past that was not entirely accounted for? Everything seemed so confusing.     "B'Elanna," Paris whispered, hoping that his word would slice through the air, find his beloved and bring her back to him. He wanted her alive, unharmed and on Voyager. He wanted to see her again; to see her smile; to see her take control of a situation. She took her job on board Voyager quite seriously. He admired that about her. She had this strong, altruistic, albeit sometimes belligerent quality about her. He wanted to hear her voice again; to hear her laugh and quip witty remarks. He just wanted her home.     Tom....     "B'Elanna!" Paris exclaimed as his eyes opened wide with surprise and his body shot upright from his bed in an attempt to seize that moment; to understand it. He had heard her voice calling his name. It was unmistakably her voice, loud and clear as if she was in the room with him. But that’s impossible. Right?     Paris placed his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, trying to calm himself down. He tried to be rational, careful of how he interpreted this instant. He had heard B'Elanna's voice, he knew that much, but it was probably a memory from their time together. It was probably wishful thinking, nothing more. It couldn't have been anything else. Then why did it feel so strong? he thought.     He then turned his head and faced the small table situated by his bed. Paris didn't know why he did that. It was probably a reflex from years of carrying out his morning routine. But something on the table caught his eye. It was the small box that he had given to B'Elanna - the box that had contained the gold necklace.     He slowly picked up the now empty box and held it in his hands, looking at it and remembering that day: their anniversary. He had placed the necklace around B'Elanna's neck and then told her of it’s origin and purpose.      "Soulmates," he said out loud. Neelix proclaimed that he and B'Elanna were soulmates. Then, that meant that they could communicate with each other. It meant that her voice was not a memory.  Her voice was a....     And suddenly, he realized, "She's calling me."                             ***Chapter Eleven     The sounds of torpedoes firing had not diminished since their onset only half a day ago. Officers of the U.S.S Voyager hurrily continued their effort at defeating Captain Warnog and his ship. Their efforts included everything from using evasive maneuvers to firing their own phasers. But there were obstacles in their way, primarily with the weapon systems. Ensign Harry Kim along with Seven of Nine proceeded to fix the fault as quickly as possible. Time was of the essence in any given battle.     "How about now?" asked Harry, as he manually connected two wires together.     Seven glared at the computer screen located in engineering and shook her head. "The system is still at 80%. Our are attempts at correcting this problem are futile."     Harry puffed and winced as he slowly stood from the seated position he had been in before. "We can't just give up. Look, I've been having problems with propulsions on the Delta Flyer, but it's the same concept as Voyager's weapons system."     Slightly confused as well as curious, she replied, "Explain."     "Well, in both cases, power is low, but every time we try to reroute power to the system, it ends up rejecting it. Now, maybe what we're looking at is as simple as some loose wiring." He smiled, content with his conclusion.     Before Seven could reply, a familiar voice interrupted them. "It's not a bad theory," said Captain Janeway as she walked up to the conversing officers.      Harry nearly grew red at the captain's response. It was always an honor to receive such acknowledgment from her. "Thank you, ma'am. But, it's just a theory. I think we need to investigate it some more though."     "Of course," she said, hands behind her back. "I just wanted to see how you and Seven were doing. Right now, we seem to be at a standstill with Warnog, but I want our weapons system to be fully functional as soon as possible."     "Yes, ma'am," said Harry, nodding his head.     "Captain!" came a new voice.      Janeway turned around to be greeted by Ensign Paris, his face expressing a new shade of emotion: excitement. “Tom, why aren’t you in your quarters?”     He walked up to the captain, and stood as still as his frantic body would allow him. "I heard her, Captain."     "Heard who?" she asked, confused by his announcement.     "I heard B'Elanna. She was calling me."     Janeway grew slightly more bewildered. She placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him down at least. "Tom, what are you talking about? B'Elanna's not here anymore."     Harry Kim watched as his best friend insisted with such conviction. He couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards Paris. "Look, Tom, I think you need some rest."     "Rest?" he repeated. "I don't need rest. I need your help!" He began flaying his arms in an aggravated attempt at getting his point across. "Why don't you believe me?"     "Because you're emotional hurt right now, Tom," replied Janeway. "It's normal for someone under a great deal amount of stress to conjure up notions like this."     He glared at her; at her patronizing expression.  Though he knew she was only trying to help him, her lack of understanding frustrated him. "It's not a notion, Captain. It's the truth. B'Elanna and I are soulmates. Neelix said it. Said there would always be an unbreakable bond between us. A spiritual bond. And today, I heard her calling my name."     Janeway's eyes flooded with concern. "Tom, I think you should go back to your quarters. We can talk about this later."     "No!" he exclaimed. "Captain, B'Elanna is out there somewhere and I can find her.”     She shook her head. "B'Elanna is dead, Tom."     "B'Elanna is alive!" Paris shouted. "I know she is. I’ve known it all along, but I never thought it was real. Now, I do."     Janeway sighed audibly. Confusion and pity dominated her mind as she tried to understand where Paris was coming from. He was sad that his girlfriend had died. He missed her. Than this situation was merely denial taking its course. Right? "Tom, you haven't slept for nearly 20 hours. You probably haven't eaten anything either." She paused before continuing, wondering how he would react to her suggestion. “I want you to visit the doctor. Maybe - .”     “You think I’m sick?” he asked, more shocked than anything else.     "I think you've been deprived of many necessities over the past several hours and that could be causing this...."     "What? This episode? Captain, I realize I'm not exactly fit right now and that all I'm doing is ranting when I should resting, but B'Elanna and I have a connection. We always have. This just proves it." He hoped that Janeway would heed his explanation and help him find B'Elanna.     She hesitated. Tom Paris was one of her best officers. Granted he did not always follow orders, but he had passion; determination. Then perhaps what he was saying was indeed true, but, she didn't know that for sure. “Nevertheless, I want the doctor to take a look at you. It’s for your own good.”     “My own good?” he repeated, as if appalled by her words. “What about B'Elanna’s own good? What about her? No,” he said, shaking his head. "No, you don't understand, do you? Fine. If you don't want to help me, I'll find her myself."     Before Janeway could react, he swiftly made his way out of Engineering.     Just as Harry was about to follow his friend, to make sure he was all right, Janeway stopped him. “Let him go,” she said. “He needs time to sort this all out. But make sure he ends up going to the doctor.”     “Yes, Captain,” he replied.     Janeway merely stood there though, unable to comprehend Paris’ new behavior.                               ***     Why didn’t they understand? thought Tom Paris frantically as he rushed though the corridors of Voyager. He was telling the truth. B'Elanna is alive...somehow. But where was she? How would he find her? Those were the questions he still had no answers to. But he would, soon enough. He just needed a plan. A plan that didn't include a visit to the doctor. Paris knew there was nothing wrong with himself. He had no neurological disorders. He had heard B'Elanna calling his name; calling for help. He knew that she was out there because they were soulmates, connected by a spiritual bond unbreakable by anything or anybody especially President Threll.      Paris had known all along that Threll played some part in all of this. His words, his action, maybe even this war was part of Threll’s plan. For what reason, Paris did not exactly know yet, but B'Elanna was a factor in it. That was clearly evident.     Suddenly, he realized he had answered his own questions. If B'Elanna was - is - a factor of Threll’s plan, then the only possible place for him to keep her, to hide her, would be the one place no one would think to consider. The home world: the planet on which Threll’s so called presidency resided. That’s where B'Elanna was. Paris knew it. He could feel it inside of him; urging him to believe. And that’s where he would go. He had to take the chance. He couldn’t give on B'Elanna. He wouldn’t give up. Ever.     Hastily, he walked up to a turbo lift and waited until its door slid open. Once inside, he ordered, "To Shuttle Bay Four." Now his mission had begun.                         ***     Captain Kathryn Janeway entered the bridge with more on her mind then she would have liked to have. One of her officers had died only a day ago; Ensign Paris apparently could not accept her death and had resorted to alternate possibilities. Then, of course, there was the war Voyager was facing and a weapons system that wasn’t entirely perfect. But she could handle it. She had to.     "How's our front holding up?" asked Janeway as she took to her captain's seat.     Chakotay sat beside her. "Warnog's beginning another attack. He isn't taking this battle lightly."     Janeway shrugged. "Neither are we." She turned to face Tuvok. "What's the condition of our shields?"     "Shields are at 70%, Captain," he replied with little show of his emotions. That was, of course, normal behavior for the Vulcan. "We are currently rerouting power from all non-essential systems."     "I don't whether that's good or bad." She turned back to Chakotay. "This could mean weapons won't be completely repaired for another few more hours."     Chakotay nodded, trying to find a bright spot within their turmoil. "Well, at  least we can still use our weapons. They just won't hit on target that much."     She replied with a thankful and hopeful expression. Chakotay was right. At least they weren't powerless. "That reminds me," she said quite suddenly. "Harry, hail Warnog. We have some issues to talk about."     Chakotay wondered about these 'issues', but knew his captain would inform him later. His priority was to make sure Voyager won this battle.     "He's responding," said Harry.          "On screen."     Captain Warnog's smug face appeared in front of the crew. He snickered as if he knew the reason behind Janeway's hail. "Ready to surrender?" he said.     Janeway stood up, and crossed her arms. She needed answers and she would get them. "I don't think so. You see, we're not in habit of giving up."     "Such valiance," he said sarcastically. "No matter. That will soon deteriorate once I have won."     Janeway detested his arrogance. She wanted nothing more than to win the war. She not only wanted justice in B'Elanna's name, but also to witness the sight of a failed Warnog. But that was not the topic at hand. "My officers have informed me that you had kidnapped Lt. B'Elanna Torres prior to her death."     His facial expression transformed from conceit to strained. His hands began to fidget like that of a little child caught in his own lie. "What if we did?"     She smiled. "That almost sounds like a confession. Who's 'we' and mind telling us why you took my officer?"     Now, he knew there was no escape. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he mumbled to himself. He then raised his head and glared at the captain. "I don't have to tell you anything. Besides, it does not matter know."     "It matters to me," she replied, her voice growing in volume. "Now why did you take her?"     First, Warnog puffed, trying to find another ambiguous answer, but he couldn't. He wasn't prepared for this for he had not expected it. With one final snarl, the screen averted to its original form: a window to the stars before them.     "He's cut off all communication," said Harry.     Janeway returned to her seat with more pieces of the puzzle in hand. "He's hiding something."     "But what?" asked an equally perplexed Chakotay.     Her eyes remained fixed on the screen. She was thinking about that same question. "I'm not sure, but somehow, I think Tom does." She would need to talk to Paris. Perhaps, they could all find the answers they needed. "Tuvok, locate Ensign Paris."     After a few seconds of searching, Tuvok looked back at the Captain and said, "Ensign Paris is not on board."     "What?" she said, surprised by his words.     Harry would answer her inquest. "Captain, I'm reading an unauthorized shuttle launch.... It's Tom."     Why would he do this? Janeway thought. Somehow, she already knew the answer. "Hail him."     The image of an occupied Tom Paris appeared on the screen.      Janeway stood up as she said, "Tom, what are you doing?"     He looked at her with determination midst his eyes. "I'm going to find B'Elanna."     The bridge began to murmur for they had all seen B'Elanna die.      "Tom, come back to Voyager," said Janeway. "We can talk about this."     He shook his head. "I'm sorry, captain. I can't. I know B'Elanna's alive. You have to believe me, otherwise, why would I go this far?"     He had a point. Paris, though impulsive at times, was not one to fabricate stories like this. "But this isn't the way go about proving it. Come back to Voyager."     From the expression on his face, Paris's decision had already been made. "I'm sorry, ma'am. This is for B'Elanna." With that, his image disappeared and the attention returned to Janeway.     There was an unusual silence on the bridge for no one knew what to make of this situation. They wanted to believe Paris, but how could they?      Janeway turned to Harry and asked, "Where is he heading?"     He scanned his computer and finally answered, with slight shock in his voice, "He's heading towards the surface of the planet."     "Why there?" asked Chakotay.     She hesitated before answering as she turned and stared at the screen which showed a satellite view of the world before them. "Because," she began slowly, "that's where it all began."                         ***Chapter Twelve     Captain Warnog growled at the screen. He was clearly agitated, but did not know how to handle it. "I don't know how they found out," he said.     The man that had responded to Warnog's hail, merely shrugged as if it were all unimportant. "They know, but that does not change anything. The plan is still unaffected and will be as long as I am in charge." His rigid Klingon characteristics overcame his natural features.      Warnog nodded, slightly at ease, though not much more. "Well, good."     "Now, make sure they found out nothing else."     "Of course, President Threll," replied Warnog. "Warnog, out."     And the room on board the Frasker Battleship resumed its eerie quality.                          ***     Ensign Thomas Paris was certainly pleased that piloting had become more than just a hobby because his evasive maneuvers were what pulled him through the space battle field completely unharmed. Now his journey to the surface seemed fortunately clear.      Good, he thought. At least something seemed to be in his favor. Now, he could concentrate on saving B'Elanna. How he was to pursue that goal, that he would have to think about. But no worry. He knew he would find her for he knew she was alive. He knew she was on this planet. He could feel it.     During his trip to the planet, Paris had quickly researched the whereabouts of Threll's residency. It was situated within the main city that was, itself, surrounded by a large forest. To enter the planet relatively unnoticed, Paris decided he would have to land somewhere inside the wilderness.      Once he had safely past the planet's turbulent atmosphere, Ensign Paris had landed his shuttle on a small clearing in the middle of the massive emerald forest.  As he exited his means of transportation, he took with him a tricordor and a computer padd, the latter of which contained a map of the city.      As he hurrily walked through the wilderness, noting the masculine trees and thick bushes around him as well the mountains that garnered the outskirts of the vast territory, he thought about B'Elanna. Paris knew he was taking a risky chance coming to the planet, especially since he found out that his communicator wasn't working, but the feeling within him had only grown stronger as inched towards the city. He knew B'Elanna was here and he knew he had to find her.     Paris began to hear a congregation of voices emerging directly in front of him. Once he passed a group of bulky trees, he saw the origin of those voices. They belonged to the people that lived in the main city. Remi Bitorians was the name of their race, and they looked like just as he had read them to be. Tall, formidable people with ridges up and down their hands and arms. The most unusual aspect of their physical appearances, however, was their eyes: orange with gold specs. Truly different than what Paris had previously seen with other races. It was then that Paris worried whether or not his disguise would work. Just before he left on shuttle bay on Voyager, he had changed into clothes that were similar to the Remi Bitorians, but how they would not notice his normal blue eyes, he did not know. He only hoped they would be too occupied to notice him at all.      Tom Paris cautiously made his way through the city, walking straight towards his intended destination: Threll's headquarters. He could see the top of the building in the center of the large metropolitan-like area. And as he walked closer to it, he could also see guards posted on the front gate.      Great, thought Paris. His mind quickly began reeling of ways to bypass security. He couldn't just waltz up to them and ask to be led in. No, there had to be some other way. He could sneak in, but how would he find B'Elanna in the maze-like structure, if she was there at all? Paris knew that there was a chance B'Elanna would not be in Threll's headquarters in the first place; that she could be on another planet completely. But somehow, he knew those chances were off because inside, Tom Paris knew B'Elanna was here. There was too much evidence to contradict that conclusion. He just had to follow his instinct. After all, he and B'Elanna were soulmates.      Suddenly, he felt the slight collision of another person. Quickly and apologetically, Paris looked up to who it was that he had bumped into. A large, seemingly obtrusive Remi Bitorian sneered at him. "Sorry," said Paris, hoping the man would brush off the incident.     The man did just the opposite. He growled loudly. "Watch where you're going!"     Paris quickly nodded. "I'm sorry."     But the man did not let up that easily. "What is your name?" He then pointed a raw finger at Paris. "You know I could have you thrown in jail for this? No one disrespects an officer of the court!"     "An officer?" Paris repeated, surprised that out of the hundreds of citizens in the city, he had managed to upset an officer. "Look, I didn't mean to -." And then he stopped himself and he thought for a moment. He had an idea. A risky idea. One that could succeed...or fail. If B'Elanna was on this planet; if Threll did indeed have her, she could only be in one place. It was worth a shot. And with that decision, Tom Paris summoned all his courage and said, "You know what, I'm glad I hit you!"     The man's eyes grew wide open and his jaw dropped. But that shocked gape lasted a mere second, for then, the officer grabbed Paris by his shirt collar and yelled, "That does it!" He then began dragging the ensign through the streets and towards the jail.                          ***     Captain Janeway had grown to trust Tom Paris, but his actions today seemed to waver that trust. He disobeyed her orders and left the ship without authorization. But, somehow, she found it difficult to truly be upset with him. Maybe she felt sympathy towards him or maybe she wanted Tom to be right - that B'Elanna was indeed alive.      But how can that be? she thought to herself as she walked towards her ready room. She had called a senior officer meeting to discuss Paris' actions as well as Warnog's. Janeway herself saw B'Elanna die. Then again, Warnog's involvement in her kidnapping did throw the situation into a tailspin.       She sighed audibly. Everything seemed to garner possibilities. If only she could  verify those theories.     Janeway was one of the last officers to enter her ready room, but she immediately took control. "Chakotay, report," she said as she took her seat at the head of the table.     Her first officer quickly began his assessment. "We know Tom landed on the surface and Tuvok is currently tracking his whereabouts, but we can't communicate with him or get a lock on him. We think they have some type of force field around the city. Or it could be our own sensors. They were hit during our encounter with Warnog and are still not at 100%."     She nodded. She expected this much. "This just means we need to find another way of transportation. What have you uncovered about Threll?"     Seven took the helm this time around. "I had to run a search through Voyager's complete database, but I found President Threll's colorful history."     Janeway lifted an eyebrow. Rarely did Seven use such adjectives in her statements. To apply it now raised some suspicions. "Please, proceed."     Seven nodded and said, "Rommack Threll has an extensive military history, but it was tarnished, if you will, when he was arrested for treason. He had worked with an underground militia group in hopes of conquering the Klingon empire. When he failed to do so, he escaped on a runabout with his followers and was last seen on board a Maquis vessel. It is assumed that he was later pulled into the Delta Quadrant."     An awkward silence took place as each of the officers realized just how far back this ordeal went. Chakotay was the first to speak up and rightly so. "I assume B'Elanna discovered this plan of his and reported him to the officials. He could have joined the Maquis in order to lose the authorities.           "It is correct to assume that, yes," replied Seven.     Janeway sighed fairly loudly as she began to sympathize with B'Elanna. Threll wasn't exactly a model citizen. However, this also meant there was an added piece to the puzzle. "I want a updated report on Threll's actions from here on in. B'Elanna was right. He can't be trusted. And what have found out about Warnog?"     Seven answered, "Captain Warnog’s history is still relatively unknown, although he is identified in this quadrant for his belligerent quality."     Janeway merely scoffed. That wasn't surprising.     "However," continued Seven, "as I was scanning his ship, I detected a long range signal."     "To what location?' asked the captain, suddenly curious.     "The surface."     Her eyes grew wider. More pieces seemed to fall into place. "Now why would Warnog be contacting the planet?"     Chakotay hazarded the obvious guess. "President Threll?"     "Exactly," she replied. "Maybe Tom wasn't so far off after all. Seven, I want you to continue scanning Warnog's ship or as much as sensors will allow. Harry, keep a lock on Ensign Paris and try to find a connection between Threll and Warnog. I want answers. You’re dismissed." With that, Captain Janeway slowly stood up and began making her way towards the door, her mind continuing to contemplate the situation at hand. She wanted to believe Paris. She wanted B'Elanna to be alive and healthy. She wanted to have everything make sense again, and somehow, Paris' logic seemed the most acceptable.     "Captain?" said a voice that stopped Janeway from exiting the room.     Janeway turned around and saw Seven's resolute face. "Yes?"     "Captain," she began, "As I was researching Captain Warnog's background this morning, I noticed a security breach on board."     Confused, she asked, "What?"     "Someone has downloaded files without authorization." Seven remained still and neutral despite the disturbing news.     "Do you know who's files they were?"      "They belonged to Lieutenant Torres."     Her words seemed all too surreal for the captain. They made it sound as if B'Elanna were still alive. "Why would someone do that?" she asked, a thousand answers already present.     Seven shook her head slightly. "I am uncertain of that reason."     But somehow, Janeway was. She was sure of something. She was sure that now there were more questions lingering in that air that needed to be answered. "When were they downloaded?" she quickly asked, hoping the added information would bring order to her chaotic heap of theories.     "1800 hours. Stardate 52542.4." She was always that accurate.     "Two days ago. That was when Threll's men came on board to assist us with the supplies."     "Yes, Captain," Seven replied.     Could there be a connection? thought Janeway. Yes, maybe. But for what purpose?      "Captain?" It was Seven, her voice showing concern for her superior's silence.     Janeway looked up, her thoughts continuing their process of sorting and contemplating. She could not let this be ignored. "If someone wanted B'Elanna's files," she began, determination on her brow, "There must have been a reason. Good work, Seven. Keep your eye on Warnog. I'm going to find Harry. Somehow, Tom's words seemed to be making more and more sense by the minute."                         ***     They had thrown Ensign Paris in jail. It looked similar to that of Voyager's brig, but colder and stale. There were many cubic-like brigs situated inside the massive room, located on the ground floor of the main building. Apparently, Remi Bitorians had a knack for ticking the officers off. He took a look around the room. A total of maybe four people were there, sitting on their matted benches, or gazing at the freedom they so longed to have. Paris sighed. His plan had worked. He had managed to get himself into jail for the explicit purpose of getting access to the other rooms within Threll's complex. Now, the only problem was how he would turn off the force field and continue with his plan. Yes, this was indeed a problem.     He sighed once more and sat down on the bench, cupping his chin in his hand. He needed a second plan. He thought and thought, his mind reeling with possibilities, but few solutions. He could try and trick one of the guards standing post at the exit, but how? And even if he did succeed, one of the prisoners would surely tell on him just to save their own skin. No, he would need a different plan.      Paris then abruptly stood. He didn't feel like sitting down anymore. He needed to move. He needed to escape. He needed B'Elanna safely back on Voyager. It was then that the image of B'Elanna came floating back into his mind. She was his priority. He had to save her and he couldn't do that from inside a brig. He would have to search this building for her, and if she wasn't here, then the next building, until he found her.     Suddenly, Paris stopping pacing back and forth and stared at a small section of the wall near the floor by the force field. He squinted his eyes to make certain it was what he thought it was: a panel - an electrical panel. He slowly knelt down, periodically glancing into the room, hoping no one had noticed his preoccupied demeanor. When no one seemed to notice, he concentrated on the 5' by 5' panel in front of him. Using his fingers, he pried the top cover off and placed it quietly to his side. He then peered into the electrical system that flowed through the panel. He had hoped that it was similar to one on the Delta Flyer, for he had remembered helping Harry fix the circuit on the famed shuttle. Fortunately, this particular circuit was almost, if not exactly, the same type. He had found his way out. If he could just adjust the wiring, maybe it would short circuit the force field. It was worth a try.      Tom Paris silently took out his hidden tricordor and began trying to make his plan a reality. After a few minutes, he could hear the blissful sound of a force field turning off. He had succeeded. Placing the tricordor back into his pocket, he stood up and stared at freedom. Apart of him wanted to escape right then and there and find B'Elanna. He knew he could, but how would he get past the guard at the door? Another road block.      "Hey, you," said a low pitched voice from somewhere inside the room.      Startled, Paris looked up and saw a man in the brig across the room. With a confused expression, he asked, "Me?"     The unfamiliar man nodded and said, "Yeah, you. The name's Tulone. Haven't seen you around before. What are you in here for?"     Glancing at the door to make certain the guard couldn't overhear their conversation, Paris replied, "I'm, uh...new to the city. I kind of offended an official."     He stifled a chuckle. Apparently, this was not new to him. "Yeah, we get a lot of you here. So, how did you offend him? Tell him that turning a nation into a labor race was wrong? Tell him that power wasn't everything?"     Tom cocked an eyebrow at the sarcasm this man was so intentionally producing. "What do you mean?" Paris asked.     "You don't know?" he asked, honestly astounded by this newcomer's innocence. "Our city is being used, corrupted by none other than its own leader." He ruffled a hand through his thick brown hair and smiled amusingly. "Ironic, isn't it?"     He hadn't realized it when he came to this planet, but slowly and surely, Tom Paris was beginning to understand the scale on which this situation had been placed on. "You're talking about President Threll, right?"     He shook his head. "None other."      Paris nearly gawked at the complexity of it all. He had entered this race in order to save B'Elanna from Threll; from a man who could not be trusted. But now, he had even more evidence that proved Threll could not even take care of his own people. Some great leader he turned out to be. "He has to be stopped," said Tom.     Tulone smiled with a hint of anguish. "We've been trying to do that. That's why I'm in here. Because I tried to protest against Threll's ignorance of us, the people. But the council won't do a thing cause they don't know what's happening. No one does."     It was that last comment which harnessed a feeling regret that caused Paris to feel a new sense of compassion towards these people. Threll had not only taken B'Elanna, but he had taken an entire country. Not anymore. He could help them because he knew how. He took a quick glance at the guard once more, hoping that he would not hear his words. Thankfully, the guard's attention remained outside the room. Turning back to face his new confidant, Paris said quietly, "What if I told you that I could help your people be free from Threll?"     Suddenly, the man's eyes grew wide with hope and curiosity. "How?"     Paris knew it would be risky of him to impart such news about his real identity, but if this way was the only way to finding B'Elanna and to helping these people, he would have to live with it. "I'm from a ship called Voyager. It's orbiting outside your planet right now. Now, I know, that if they knew what was going on here, they'd bring you justice. I'm sure of it. But the only way I can get to them is if I escape this brig." He paused and thought about the urgency of what he was about to say next. "I need to save someone - someone very close - that's locked up somewhere inside this building. Once she's safe, and were out of this atmosphere, I can communicate with the ship and help your people."     The other man was strangely silent. He was thinking, wondering, if this new friend would indeed do what he had just said. If it could be accomplished, then Tulone's people would be saved. Peace and freedom could be returned to their rightful owners. So they did not have a thing to lose. They needed to trust one another. "Can you really help us?"     Paris nodded, determination fueling his confidence. It was about time someone put an end to Threll's rule. "I promise," he said.      Tulone took one last look at the sincerity and honesty that Paris promoted and knew the trust was worth it. "Okay, thanks for the help. But, um, how are you going to get out of here?"     Paris looked at the guard and said, "I need a distraction."     The other nodded, realizing that Paris had a plan, but needed some help. So, Tulone did only thing he thought to do. He started a tantrum. "Hey! Get me out of here!" yelled the man.      The guard slowly walked into the room and yelled back at the man. "Be quiet," he said.      "You can't leave me in here!" Tulone shouted back.     The guard rolled his eyes and walked closer the man. "We can do what we want!" He walked closer and closer to the opposite brig. Slowly, his back was turned to Paris.      Paris couldn't have asked for a better solution. His new friend was causing the distraction that would allow Paris that one moment of freedom. He watched carefully as the guard's full attention turned to the shouting man. He watched as all the prisoners focused on that one event. This was it. This was his moment to escape. Cautiously, he stepped out of his brig and made his way towards the exit. The closer he got to the exit, the closer he felt to saving B'Elanna. Just one more step....     Yes! he thought to himself as he finally left the room and entered the corridor. He had escaped, thanks to prayer, to some good wiring and Tulone. Now, he had his chance. Now, it was time. But Paris reminded himself once more of the promise he had made to Tulone. He would definitely see to it that Voyager would help the Remi Bitorians. He would help them. They needed that much.       Paris moved quickly, but with the utmost caution for he did not want to end up back inside the jail. He trekked through the empty corridor, occasionally looking back to see if someone had seen his suspicious movements. But as he made his way through the complex, he realized he did not know exactly where to go. He didn't know where B'Elanna was being kept, but somehow, his instinct caused him to keep going in the direction that he was in.      Just then, he noticed some sort of a turbo lift at the far end of the hallway. Realizing that he had already seen most of the floor he was presently on, he concluded that B'Elanna was on one of the other levels. Hopefully.     Quickly he pushed the panel on the side of the door. It beeped softly, but the door did not open. Worry set in. Paris looked around to make sure no one had heard the computer sound. Luckily, there were no personnel in the vicinity....     He pushed it again. Somehow, the beeping it emitted sounded louder. He knew it was merely paranoia setting in. The door remained closed.      Paris puffed slightly, growing frustrated by the minute. He thought the longer it took for him to find B'Elanna, the more time she spent with Threll. Just the sound of his name brought feelings of anger and resentment. Paris knew Threll was up to no good from the second he had uttered B'Elanna's name. He abruptly shook his head in hopes of ceasing anymore meandering thoughts. He had to concentrate.     Footsteps. Paris heard the familiar sounds of shoes clicking on a marble floor coming from his right. He turned, but saw no one. Apparently, the person was still a few meters away, but he knew at any second, that person would come around the corner and see him.      Paris pushed the panel once more. Open, he silently whispered to the door. Something must have been malfunctioning with the computer system for the door to remain closed. Then he remembered the panel he had toyed with to get out of the brig. Paris must have short circuited the wiring for other systems besides the jail cell.      No, he thought. Why this door? He pushed the panel again and again. The footsteps grew louder and louder until Paris thought for sure the person was close enough to see him. Paris pushed the panel one last time and prayed simultaneously.      As if his prayers were answered, the door slid open. He quickly rushed in and watched as the doors closed just as the person emerged from the corner. Paris had made it.     The beating of his heart slowly returned to its normal pace as the adrenaline subsided. Now, he could think. His eyes slowly wondered around the lift as he tried to consider a new course of action. And just as his eyes caught the sight of a peculiarly large panel on the side of the lift, he had decided to go to the floor above him. "Second floor," he said to the computer. And as the turbo lift followed his order, he felt closer to B'Elanna already.                         ***     "Tell me some good news, Harry," ordered Captain Janeway.     Harry Kim turned around just in time to see his much-concerned captain walking towards him. He had a multitude of theories for her unspoken questions, but didn't know if they would be of any help. "Captain, we're still trying to get a lock on Tom, but sensors are still weak and the force field isn't making it any easier even though it's just a mild field. The energy it holds creates static for us."     "I expected that much," she replied as she stood by his station on the bridge.      "But, Captain," he continued, "I've discovered which of B'Elanna's files were stolen."     Her eyes widened with anticipation. Janeway knew those files held the key to something big, therefore she was glad when she told Harry of Seven's initial discovery of the security breach. "And?"      "Apparently, they were visual files." He hoped that would enlighten the captain in her quest to solve the mystery surrounding the officers.     "Visual?" she repeated. "For what purpose would the intruder need visual files, unless...." And Janeway thought hard as an glimmer of hope began to grow in the midst of chaos. Pieces of a massive puzzle began to fall into place with the onset of Harry's discovery. Somehow, it all pointed to one answer.  She turned to Chakotay and asked, "When did Threll's soldiers arrive on Voyager?"     He glanced at her inquisitively, but answered nonetheless. "1200 hours on stardate 52547.4. Why?"     His reply seemed to allow her theory to gain the credibility it needed. "I'll explain, but first, Harry, when were those downloaded again?"     He concentrated on the computer data in front of him, searching his response. But when he succeeded, he hesitated, for he understood where Janeway was heading towards. "Stardate...52547.4."     And suddenly, Chakotay realized her point as well. "It's the same day. That means...."     "That means Threll's soldiers did more than just assist us," said Janeway. Her mind was already in full gear, thinking, wondering, theorizing if this connection could explain everything. Somehow, in the back of her mind, Janeway knew it did. "If Threll's soldiers did steal those files, what could they be used for?"     Chakotay shrugged his shoulders as he considered his options. "Well, they could use it to...identify what B'Elanna looked like for the most part."     "Then why take them?" Harry asked as he too grew inquisitive of the ordeal. "It doesn't make sense."     "Maybe it does," said Janeway.      "Oh?" Chakotay knew his Captain was on to something. What that was, he would soon find out.      She had a thousand pieces laid out in front of her. Now she needed to make sense of them. "B'Elanna was engaged to Threll. That much we know. She then called off the wedding because he had become someone she couldn't recognize anymore."     "Right," said Chakotay, following her along on the path of recent revelations. "B'Elanna found out that Threll was trying to take over the Klingon empire and she knew she couldn't be part of that. But how does this help us? And what's the connection between Threll and Warnog."     Janeway didn't exactly know - at least not yet. Indeed, there were many questions that needed to be answered, but she was certain that the explanation was much closer than they thought it to be. She sat in her captain's chair and placed a contemplative look onto her face. "What could Threll gain if he made an alliance with Warnog?"     Harry piped up while standing at his station. "Warnog has one of the most extensive weaponry we've ever seen. Maybe Threll needed the protection."     "Or the fire arm," said Janeway, thinking of every possible solution.      "Fire arm against what?" asked Chakotay. Though the theory sounded logical, he needed a reason. "Against another species maybe?"     Janeway thought about it for a moment. What would be so important, so powerful, that Threll had to conquer? There weren't any highly advanced civilizations for nearly four light years, except.... And then it came to her like brilliant flash of light. "When we first met Warnog, he was fighting the ship that bordered the planet where the Tylocks live. The Tylocks are probably one of the most advanced people in the quadrant."     Chakotay immediately understood. "And if Threll captured the Tylocks, he would become unstoppable."     "Exactly," said Janeway, satisfied with the answer they had found. "Warnog's could be loaning him the weapons and probably for a fair price."     Harry shook his head in shock as well as disgust at Threll's persistence. "He's trying again. He's trying to take over an empire," he said, referring to Threll's previous attempt at seizing the Klingon sovereignty.     "Well," said Janeway, standing up straight, "He's not going to get away with it this time." And she meant it. Captain Janeway wasn't about to let an ignorant, crazed man take over a nation, not while she was around. And then she thought of B'Elanna - of her role in all of this...chaos. "Say Warnog and Threll were in alliance and were planning on taking over the Tylocks, what part B'Elanna play? Why would Warnog kidnap her? And kill her for that matter?"      The bridge remained silent in an attempt to resolve the questions Janeway had put forth, but answers were few and far between.      Harry tried to make a logically, if not an enlightened, guess. "If Threll and Warnog are working together, then wouldn't that meant that Threll knew Warnog had kidnapped B'Elanna?"     "You might be right, Harry," she said. The thought had crossed Janeway's mind since the time Paris had assumed Threll was behind it all. Threll had the perfect motive to go along with it: he and B'Elanna shared a turbulent past; there was present tension between them. But why kill her?     The antimatter system.      Of course! It all made sense. Janeway's mind began it's fast pace trek through each fact until it all came together. "The Tylocks hold the most powerful warp core within light years. Threll would need an engineer to go over the system. B'Elanna's one of the top engineers in her field."     Chakotay eagerly tried to follow, but one fact remained in his way. "But if Threll needed B'Elanna's expertise, why have her killed?"     It was then that Janeway began to understand what Paris had been saying all along. His theory, his 'notion,' as she had once referred to it, was not due to stress or denial. It was the truth. Because everything began to take form. She stopped herself from going any further. She needed proof. And she knew how to get it. "Gentlemen, I'm about to take a very large and possibly outrageous guess for sake of our crew."     They looked at her with curious eyes and wondered what this 'guess' was exactly. They would find out soon enough.      "Harry," she said, suddenly feeling the adrenaline rush as she realized how close they really were to unraveling the truth. "I'm assuming that Threll's soldiers took B'Elanna's files. I'm also assuming that Warnog and Threll are business associates. Now we all saw B'Elanna die, correct?"     "Right...," replied a slightly confused Harry.     "Then," she continued, "That means that, and you'll forgive me saying so, traces of B'Elanna's biological material would be still present in space. After all, her shuttle did explode only a day ago."     Harry nodded hesitantly, as if wondering what exactly would be the right answer. "I guess so," he said.      This was it. The moment that could change everything. "Harry, I want you to a bioscan of the area where her shuttle was hit. Now."     He didn't want to argue. He couldn't, not while the Captain seed so adamant about her yet to be fully discussed theory. "Yes, ma'am," he replied. He took one last look around the room. Everyone was watching him. Wondering the same things as he did. But he followed his orders. As quickly, yet thoroughly as possible, Harry Kim scanned the targeted area for 'biological material' pertaining to B'Elanna. Somehow, he knew what he would find. He would find B'Elanna genetic make-up. How would that help them though? They already knew B'Elanna was -.      And he stopped thinking. Stopped moving.      He was wrong.     With one puzzled glance at Janeway, and a second at his computer for a double check, he managed to utter the words Janeway had hoped for. "Captain," he began, his words tainted with shock. "There seems to be no trace of any biological material in the area."     The bridge erupted in a bustle of noise and astonishment. Chakotay voiced what they all seemed to be thinking. "That's impossible," he said. "We saw B'Elanna die. The bioscan must have picked up something."     Janeway would have agreed with him had they had this conversation an hour ago, but at this moment, with that announcement before them, she knew the real answer. Turning slowly to face her first commander, she replied, "We saw what they wanted us to see."     "They?" continued Chakotay. "Captain, if there is no trace, that means that...."     "That we were tricked." Janeway looked at the flustered faces of those that stood on the bridge. They would soon understand. "That means," she said, seriously as ever, "That B'Elanna's alive."                         ***     Chapter Thirteen     B'Elanna Torres was away from home. Not voluntarily of course. Kidnapped and taken without her consent. By a man named President Threll.     Actually, when she had reappeared on the Frasker Battleship after being transported away from Voyager's outer hull, her opinion had been quite different. Seeing a smug Captain Warnog standing next to her on the battleship, she immediately thought that he was the sole perpetrator in her very own kidnapping. She had raided him with harsh words of anger and resentment as well a confident shield that kept the guards who were posted outside the brig at bay.     However, she was in for a rude awakening when she, after taken to the planet Remi Bitoria, was greeted by none other than President Rommack Threll. He welcomed her into what seemed to be his main office, showing her to her seat, all the while brandishing a thousand watt smile unusual for a Klingon. So copious was his gentlemanly ways, that for a moment, B'Elanna forgot Threll's true belligerent nature. Until, of course, she glanced back at the door and noticed two guards, phasers in their hands, watching her, trapping her. Until she saw the look of deceit in Threll's eyes. It was then that the initial shock had worn off, and a more pronounced feeling of anger took its place. She shouted, screamed, negotiated with Threll to send her back to Voyager.      He admired her will, her cause to fight the good fight, but, in the end, he denied her freedom. He told her that she was to assist them in a cause of their own - a "take over," he said.      But that didn't change B'Elanna mind, not for a second. Instead, she continued to defend herself, to tell him how wrong he was. In response, he sent her to her new quarters to "calm down."     Yet, as B'Elanna paced back and forth in her agitated form, she was far from being calm. She wanted to know exactly why Threll had taken her. She wanted to escape this place. She wanted to warn the Tylocks of the impending danger they faced.      She wanted to be back on Voyager.     But one look at the closed door to her new quarters reminded her of how difficult going home would be. There were probably guards standing right outside the door, posted there to make sure she would not leave. And then there was Threll, the key figure in a large conspiracy against an innocent nation; against herself.      But that didn't matter.     B'Elanna urged herself to find a way out; to never give up hope. After all, her friends on board Voyager would never give up on her. They were probably planning to save her at that exact moment. Yes, she had to have hope.      Nevertheless, she said a little prayer.      Suddenly, the door automatically slid open.      B'Elanna watched in subtle surprise as President Threll sauntered into the meagerly furnished room. Though her eyes were focused on this man, B'Elanna heard the close behind him. She wished that she could have been on the other side of that door. She wished it desperately.     But now, she had to stay strong; to prove that he wouldn't - couldn't - get to her. "What do you want, Threll?" B'Elanna asked, her voice icy with bitterness.     He smiled at her, ignoring her tone. Hands behind his back, he continued to walk around the room. It was an obvious attempt at trying to intimate B'Elanna. "Such resentment. And here I thought we were starting to get past our differences."     His words seemed to be completely ineffective. "Get to the point, Rommack."          He glanced at the female Klingon, her back stiff with acrimony, and noticed, quite embarrassingly, that his intimidation wasn't working. Stiffening a little himself, he answered, "I wanted to see how you were adjusting to your new quarters."     "And what makes you think I'm 'adjusting'?" she quickly retaliated. "You know, I'm not staying here for long."     He nodded, grasping the reference to which she alluded to. "Ah," he said, "You are talking about your crewmen? That they will come for you? Well, that could be quite difficult."     She smiled back complacently. "You don't know my crewmen. They will find me."     "No, they won't," he replied as he came to a stop in front of her. "You see, they don't know you're here."     She shook her head fervently. "They'll figure it out. They're smart."     He shook his head as well, but with a smugness attached to it. "They won't figure it out. They won't even try to."     Threll's enigmatic remarks began to annoy B'Elanna thoroughly. Placing her hands on her hips, she said, "What are you talking about it? Of course, they'll try!"     "Not if they think you're dead."     She froze. This part of the conversation had been unexpected. And though a part of her knew what Threll meant - what he had planned, - she needed to know more. "What do you mean? Why would they think that?"     "Because," he said, smiling at the thought of victory, "I had the shuttle blown up. The shuttle you were in. Or the one they thought you were in." He began to walk around her again as he unraveled his plan before her. "You see, I had my crew construct a hologram of you and then project  it on to the shuttle. Voyager only saw what I made them see."     The impact of his words had slowly ignited the anger that resided within her and her expression tightened with frustration. "How could you?! You can't just kidnap me like this! You know this isn't right!" She stepped up closer to him, an accusing finger pointed at him. "Now, I know why I left you on our wedding day!"     "And that, B'Elanna, was your first mistake!" he snapped back aggressively, as if she had crossed the line. "Your second, was to bring me in to the authorities! Why did you not keep silent?" Their history together began to surface.     She shook her head, appalled at the audacity Threll had to even ask such a question. "You were threatening to takeover the Klingon empire! How could I, in good conscience, let someone corrupt our nation? To corrupt the people? I couldn't! If only you could have understood that. But if I had to do it all again, I would."     He growled loudly, angrily, at B'Elanna's defiance. A part of him couldn't take being in the same room with her, but another part, ordered him to stay. To finish what he had come to say in the first place. He would not bother with the past anymore. He had work to do. Harshly, he said, "You will help us in acquiring the Tylocks' antimatter system and you will do so with the utmost cooperation. And you will forget about Voyager. Understand?" He then stomped towards the door.     But B'Elanna would not accept any of that. "I will do no such thing! You wait and see, Threll! Voyager will find me. I know they will!" she hollered back at him as he exited the room in a final huff. The door closed before she could continue her remarks. But that was all right because she did not want to talk with him anymore. Too many emotions had spilled forth between them and they both needed time to cool off.      B'Elanna turned around and walked towards one of the chair. Sinking into the cushioned seat, she began to replay the words spoken by Threll. Everyone thinks she is dead. But she isn't.  Somehow, B'Elanna knew that Voyager would find out soon enough that something was awry and they would come for her.      As she thought about this, she subconsciously began to finger the necklace she was wearing. The necklace Tom had given her. And she smiled. Tom would never give up. Because he loved her as she did for him.      Yes, she thought, hope still standing strongly beside her, they will come for me.                          ***     Fortunately for Tom Paris, the second floor was relatively empty with only a few guards scattered about. Grateful at the prospect of going unnoticed, he continued his search for B'Elanna Torres. Cautiously, he maneuvered through the corridor, periodically checking every room in hopes of finding her. But after an hour of scouring the floor, he had only managed to nearly bump into a guard walking from the opposite end of the hallway. But no B'Elanna Torres.     He knew she was here in this building primarily because he could feel it within him, within his soul. He didn't know how else to explain it. But that didn't matter. His first and only priority was finding B'Elanna.      If only he knew where in the building complex she was.     Of course, being able to go inside closed doors would help, but that would be too easy.      Paris came upon a closed door at the end of the long hallway. If this wasn't the room, then he would have to move onto the third floor and so on, until he found her. Sighing, he hid around the corner and thought about his options. Thankfully, all the other doors in the hallway had been whole or partially open. He could always look inside the room to see if B'Elanna was there, but this door - he had no code to open it himself and even if did, anyone inside the room would surely see him and arrest him. By now, it was safe to say that the guard posted inside the jail had noticed his absense which meant that Paris had precious little time until he would be found.      Great, he thought, temporarily resting his head on the white walls. Now what?     As he contemplated what to do and how to go about doing it, two voices interrupted his thoughts.     Immediately, Paris began to check who the voices belonged to and if they had seen him. Quietly and carefully, he peered around the corner and saw two male guards standing in front of the infamous closed door. Tall, bulky characters, they were conversing on a subject Paris found to be of the utmost interest.     "The army is working even harder," said one of them, spiky brown hair a top his head.      The second guard grunted audibly. "I know. President Thell's plan is almost complete."     What plan? thought Paris. His mind reeled with theories, but he needed more information. Listening more attentively now, he heard the brown-hair man say, "When do you think it will start?"     The other guard thought about it for a moment and then said, "With the female here, it'll probably be real soon."     Female? Could it be? B'Elanna? What would they need her for? But Paris couldn't be happier. If she was the one that they were talking about, then B'Elanna was here in this building. And he had to find her. What plan Threll was coordinating, Paris would have to find out later. First, he had to know where B'Elanna was being held captive. And the only way he could find out that vital bit of information was by following these two guards. Very carefully.     At that moment, the door slid open and both guards marched into the room. Seizing his golden opportunity, Paris cautiously crept around the corner and then peeked inside the room just as the guards walked farther in. Paris managed  to take a quick a glance around the fairly desolate room before realizing that the door was about to close again. He saw this as his one and only chance of getting inside the room. It was now or never.     With swift and precise motion, Tom Paris stepped into the room just as the door closed behind him. Realizing he had maybe a few seconds before someone would notice him, he quickly ducked behind a computer monitor and peered around the corner with curious eyes. He saw a variety of computer monitors stationed around the mediocre-sized room - computers that beeped and hummed, but had few caretakers to keep them company. In fact, the only people inside the room were two scientist type personnel and the two guards themselves who had now moved to the far end of the room. He stared at them primarily because they seemed to know about Threll and, hopefully, B'Elanna. They had walked up to another door in the back of the room and waited while the one of them punched in the code to access control. They were heading to another room. Maybe Threll was in there. Maybe B'Elanna was. All that Paris knew for sure was that he had to follow those two guards, because they had the information that Paris needed.      As the door began to slid open, Paris realized that, just like before, this was his golden opportunity. But now the only problem seemed to be how he would get from one end of the room to the other. Seeing as how there were only two other people standing by the computer stations, he chose to make a run for it. They were concentrating on their configurations. How would they see him? Yes, this was his chance.      Silently, and as quickly as possible, he crept past the scientists, praying to God that they wouldn't be able to see him, or hear his racing heartbeat that pounded in his chest for that matter. Finally, he made to the other side, and hid behind another computer monitor. The two guards had already walked into the second room, and the door was slowly closing as it usually did, but Paris couldn't have that. He needed the door open. Hastily, he rushed to the door, still crouched low, so as not to get noticed, and slipped past the door just as it closed, brushing his shoulder ever so gently. He had made it.     Once inside, he quickly hid behind a bulky table and watched carefully at the guards' next move. They continued walking towards another a door at the end of this room, but stopped. Paris immediately wondered why. Had they heard him? Did they know he was here all along? Worst case scenarios played out inside his head causing tiny beads of sweat to form on his tense forehead. But he lucked out. Apparently they had not seen him because the reason they had stopped was to address a third man that had walked up to them from the right. Peering around the obtrusive table, he wished he could see who this new fellow was. When he had succeeded in doing so, he had regretted his action for it was none other than President Threll.      The luck! To finally see the man who had kidnapped B'Elanna was just unreal. A part of Paris wanted eagerly to rush up to Threll and confront him. But another part of him, the one that knew better, told Paris to remain quiet. Because this was about saving B'Elanna, not vengeance.      So, Paris waited and listened to their conversation, wondering if they could yield any more information about the where abouts of B'Elanna.      "The soldiers are almost ready," said the brown haired one.     Threll seemed to nod approvingly. "Good. I want everything to be perfect."     "Yes, sir." Then the man leaned closer and said, "What about the female? Will she follow?"     Paris' ear perked up.      Threll grunted loudly. "You leave her to me. Now, let's go see the work at hand."     Yes, it had to be B'Elanna they were talking about. But the thought of Threll handling her caused friction in his blood. He had to protect her from Threll. Paris watched closely as all three men left the room through the other door. He figured where Threll was so would B'Elanna be. He had to follow them again, until he found her.      Glad that this particular room was empty with only the table and a few miscellaneous chairs, he walked carefully to the other side of the room to follow the group. But just as he reached the door, a sound caught him off guard. He whirled around in a frantic attempt to see if anyone had walked into the room and seen him. But no one was there. He listened again.      Silence....There! He heard it again. A sort of cry. A high pitched cry. A female cry. Paris searched the room only to fine tune the fact that there still was no one here, except....He saw a door in the corner of room, towards the right. He hadn't noticed it before, and as made his way to it, he realized that it was slightly open. It was probably the short circuit that he had fiddled with in the jail. It had jammed quite a few of the doors. But that didn't matter now. All he could think about was who this cry belonged to. He crept up to the door and peered inside. The only things he saw were two more chairs, a computer and another table. He squirmed a little, trying to get a better a view of the room. Still no luck. The cry had now morphed to a more audible sound: words.      "You won't win, Threll!" came the angry voice.      Paris's mouth gaped in awe. He knew that voice. He knew the tenacity in which its tone dripped in. It belonged to the one and only B'Elanna Torres. He knew it. And that wondrous voice came directly from inside the seemingly empty room.      "B'Elanna!" he said, trying not to be too loud.      The other voice stopped its convictions. And everything was quiet. Paris worried if maybe he had spoken too soon; maybe it wasn't B'Elanna, but then, suddenly, the voice replied, "Tom?"      It was her!      "Tom, is that you?" continued the voice.     Paris said in adamant reply, "It's me, B'Elanna!" He could now see her through the crack in the door, standing there nervously. "I'm coming, B'Elanna." With all his strength, he pushed open the door, gritting his teeth, until finally, he had full access to the room.      And he saw her.      He saw B'Elanna, alive and well, standing in front him. There were no words to describe the joy and relief inside his heart. "B'Elanna," he said one last time before rushing up to her in a grand moment of uniting bliss. He scooped her up into his arms and began a passionate embrace that seemed to last forever.      B'Elanna returned the favor by encircling her arms around his shoulders in an attempt to hold on for dear life; to never let go. The second she had heard his voice from outside her confinement room, the light within her seemed to shine brighter. He had come for her. "Tom," she said, her voice muffled as she continued to hug him with such fervency. "You came."     He smiled. "I knew you weren't dead. I couldn't give up." Finally, he slowly, reluctantly, let go of her, but continued to hold onto to her hands. He looked at her, at the face he had once though he'd lost and he smiled.      "How did you now where to find me?" she asked, her eyes focused on his.     "I just knew you were somewhere in this place." His protective side then got the best of him. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you, B'Elanna?"      She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Threll just kept me locked up in here for the past two days."     "But not anymore," he said contentedly. He embraced her one more time, thankful above all else that B'Elanna was safe, unharmed and finally, hopefully, able to go home. Looking at her face, a smile on his own, he said, "It's so good to see you."     Slightly gushing in response, she replied wholeheartedly, "I missed you too."     They immersed themselves in such a blissful moment, a time they had both waited for with eagerness in their hearts, that they had temporarily forgotten the situation they faced. They still had to get back to the shuttle; to get back to Voyager. "Ready to go home?" he said, his words bathed in an intentional, if not lighthearted, understatement.      B'Elanna chuckled, a sound she had longed to hear again, and nodded. "I've been ready. What took you so long anyways?" Her gentle sarcasm had slowly returned.      He smiled and nodded sheepishly, returning the tease. "I know. I know. A good officer is never late." He then took her hand into his and began guiding her out of the room. "Come on. Let's go."     And they had started their journey home, with a renewed sense of hope guiding them back.                          ***     "B'Elanna's alive?" asked a very confused Doctor as he sat at the large conference table. Seated beside him were various other senior officers who shared the doctor's sentiment.      Captain Janeway expected this type of a response. How could they not be surprised at such a statement? "I know this must be a surprise, but we have reason to believe that B'Elanna's death was staged."     "By whom? And why?" asked the doctor once more. B'Elanna was one of his closest friends and if she really was living and breathing, he needed to know for sure.      "We believe," began Chakotay, hoping to shed light on the matter, "that President Threll and Captain Warnog are working together, possibly to take over the Tylock planet." He nodded over to Harry to continue their explanation.      "Yes, well," said Harry, "We think what happened was that Threll's soldiers stole the visual files of B'Elanna and then used them to concoct an image of her in the shuttle. They then blew up the shuttle, making us think that B'Elanna had died. We discovered this when the captain asked me to do a bioscan near the destroyed shuttle. Sure enough, there were no remains Lt. Torres."     "It was an illusion then," Tuvok concluded, his hands folded neatly and calmly a top the table.     "Yes," answered the Captain.      "Then why did sensors tell us that there was a life form aboard the shuttle?" Tuvok always needed every possibility accounted for.      Harry replied as accurately as possible. "Voyager had sustained a great deal of injuries during our battle with Warnog. Our sensors were hurt the worst which could explain the malfunction."     At this time, Captain Janeway stood up and walked behind her seat, placing her hands on the back rim of the chair. "We think that Threll needed B'Elanna in order to work the Tylock's antimatter containment system. It was Threll's plan that if we thought B'Elanna was dead, then we wouldn't start a search for her, so we wouldn't uncover Threll's take over."     The doctor furrowed his brow as he thought about this new and welcoming revelation. "Then Ensign Paris was right," he said slowly, his voice tinged with regret.      Janeway nodded and silently wished she had at least tried to understand Tom's words sooner than later. "Which means," she continued, "That, hopefully, Tom has found B'Elanna. Our primary concern right now is to protect them from Threll."     Seven spoke up this time around. "Do either President Threll or Captain Warnog know of your discovery?"     Shaking her head, Janeway replied, "No, and I'd like to keep it that way. The less they know, the better off Tom and B'Elanna are."     "So what's the plan?" piped up Neelix, who was not only happy that B'Elanna was safe, but concerned as well.     "The plan is, Mr. Neelix," began Captain Janeway, her voice carrying the usual sense of order they had come to expect, "to keep Warnog occupied. Tuvok, you and Commander Chakotay will be in charge of that. I want Warnog to continue thinking this battle is still being fought. We also want to warn the Tylocks of Threll's plan. Meanwhile, Seven, I need a complete report of the surface where Threll's headquarters is located: terrain, cities, security and so forth. We need to know what we're getting ourselves into."     "Yes, captain," she replied.     Janeway nodded and continued, "Once that is done, I want you and Harry to take the Delta Flyer to the surface and find Tom and B'Elanna. Now, I realize that this is risky, but since we can't get a lock on them, you will have to transport them. Harry, how's the Delta Flyer coming along?"     The ensign shrugged and said, "I think I have it working correctly now. We should have no problems."     "Good," she said. Finally, things were starting to look up. B'Elanna was alive, Tom may have found her and, now, they had a plan. Yes, things were starting to look good. "Okay, let's get to work. We need to get our people back home."                         ***     Chapter Fourteen     Tom Paris peered around the door and into the corridor. He had braced himself for a mass of guards to stream the hallway, but, miraculously, found none. Could it be this easy? He turned to face B'Elanna and nodded. "Coast is clear," he said.      She nodded in reply, relieved that, perhaps, their escape would go undetected. "Let's go," she said.      Paris, checking one last time for any guards, cautiously entered the hallway, B'Elanna beside him, and began heading towards the turbo lift that graciously stood a few meters a head of them. Though the area was indeed empty, and curiously so, Paris couldn't help but glance behind him every few seconds for those 'just in case' occasions. He and B'Elanna couldn't afford to get caught.     The moment B'Elanna's name entered his mind, Paris clutched her hand a little tighter. He didn't want to lose her again. He couldn't let that happen. No, not again.       They continued their trek through the silent corridor, the turbo lift inching closer and closer. They could almost hear freedom urging them on. Freedom that was long overdue, for both of them. Paris could now rest assure that his beloved was not hurt. And B'Elanna, she could finally go home. She could finally be free of Threll and Warnog.      She could still see Warnog, smiling at her as she reappeared on his ship after being transported away from Voyager two days ago. She could still see Threll as he persisted to tell her she was the key to his plans for taking over the Tylocks. He even told her that maybe they could recapture the relationship they had once lost. How dare he? And after he had her kidnapped? The nerve of him. But B'Elanna didn't want to think about that now because she had been saved. By Tom Paris. By her true love. She was on her way home with Paris where she could warn the Tylocks of Threll's plan and finally be at peace.      B'Elanna thoughts returned to the situation at hand. The turbo lift now stood only a mere foot away. They had made it all the way here without being noticed. Amazing. Paris reached out his hand to press the console on the right that would open their door to freedom. They were almost home. B'Elanna could feel it, sense it. They were so close.      Suddenly, a red flashing light enveloped the corridor. A loud, wailing sound joined in with the chaos that had quickly ensued. The two officers jumped at the unexpected event, wondering how to react.      "It's the alarm," said Paris, his adrenaline coursing through his veins, preparing his body for what could lay ahead.      B'Elanna knew exactly why the alarm had been turned on. "They know I'm missing. Tom, we can't let them find us."     He nodded and frantically began thinking of alternate solutions; ways they could avoid being caught. The only logical answer seemed to be the turbo lift. It was their closest ally. Hastily, he pushed the console that opened the turbo lift door. "We can still make it," he said.     She believed him. He had gotten them this far. Nodding, she followed Tom as he pulled her into the turbo lift. Just then, a brigade of armed soldiers rushed towards them. They had been found.     "Get them!" ordered one of the guards. But the turbo lift had already sided with the twosome and the door closed before the guards could win their chase.      Both Tom and B'Elanna sighed with great relief primarily because for the moment, they were safe. What would happen from here on out? That remained a question.     "What do we do?" asked B'Elanna. Though her question immersed itself in concern, her usual steadfast demeanor prevailed.      Paris thought about it for a moment. They had to make a plan. "They know we've escaped," he began, "They know we're in the turbo lift, which means they're going to assume we're heading for the first floor."     She followed his train of thought. "They probably have the exits closed off. So, where can we go?"     He looked at her, and wished silently that everything would just go back to what it was, before the kidnapping. But that wasn't possible. They were in this2 situation whether they liked it or not, and they needed to think fast. Suddenly, his eyes spoke of confidence. "We need to trick them," he said.      B'Elanna grew slightly confused at the statement.      Paris ordered the turbo lift, "First floor."     But she still did not understand. "But that's the first place they'll look, Tom."     "Exactly," he replied. "But we won't be there."     "What do you mean?" The questions persisted.      Paris glanced at her, smiling as he did. "I have a plan."     She shook her head in the irony of it all. "Why am I not surprised?" After being with Paris for so long, she had come to realize his tendency for backup plans.     Taking heed to her response, Tom slightly leaned over to her and said, "Trust me."     Somehow, she did.                          ***          The plan up until that certain point had been going quite operational. Each piece had been strategically placed and replaced so that it nearly lacked any and all flaws. The timing was perfect; the moment was right. They were going to succeed.      But then, it happened.      President Threll had planned this attack weeks and months in advance. He had his people researching, training and preparing to take on the offense; to seize the Tylocks and garner the power they had yearned for. Yet, there were set backs. Threll had anticipated as much. A little behind schedule, minimal advantages, and...B'Elanna.     Threll had not expected B'Elanna Torres to enter the picture. In fact, he had slowly begun to label his memories with her as unnecessary. Then, he saw her, scolding him from her ship, Voyager. And it was then that he had to make a choice: to either take that chance meeting with his former fiancée and address it as "problem" or make it an opportunity. He chose the latter when he discovered her career in engineering. The plan was to kidnap B'Elanna and make her understand the importance of her role in the take-over of Tylock. She could help Threll and his people gain as much information from the antimatter system that had somehow beguiled Threll's own scientists. The plan was so simple.      Of course, once he had B'Elanna, she had refused all part in the matter. She shouted at him and threatened him. Perhaps he should have expected as much, but he persisted nonetheless. He figured that after some time, B'Elanna would succumb. After all, her friends thought she was dead. No one would come to save her. At least, that's what he thought.      When Threll had gone back to B'Elanna's room to convince her once more of his plan, he was shocked to discover her room was empty. How could B'Elanna have escaped? He was so careful. So cautious. Unless.... Some one had helped her. But who? Frustration had begun to mask his usual features, and his voice had grown to a loud, coarse yell. That's when he had ordered the alarm to ring and signal an all out search of the premises. He would find her. One way or another.     He walked down the corridor of the second floor, his chest heaving in an aggravated attempt at self-control. Somehow, he wasn't succeeding.      Just then, a guard, apparently anxious by his leader's fitful appearance, joined Threll in his march through the hallway. "Sir," said the guard cautiously.      "What is it?" growled Threll, his eyes still focused out in front of him, heading towards the turbo lift.      The guard cringed ever so slightly from the harsh tone of Threll's words. "Sir, I must tell you that a prisoner has escaped."     Immediately, the Klingon stopped and turned to face his soldier. A mixture of anger and bewilderment flooded his face. "If it is B'Elanna Torres you are talking about, I already know. What news is this to me?"     Growing equally confused, the guard shook his head. "Sir, I am talking about another prisoner."     The ridges on his forehead furrowed. "Who?" he asked, curiously.     "A man," he replied. "A humanoid."     Threll's mind began to race. Could it be? Was it who he thought it was? "What does this man look like?"     The guard thought about it for just a moment, hoping to be as accurate as possible. "Tall," he began, "Hair the color of the sun. He yelled at an officer. That was his offense." He threw in the latter of the information as an added bonus to limit his leader's anger at him.     Talked back to an officer, Threll repeated in his mind, concentrating on each word as if they were the answers he looked for. Threll knew of only one human who would talk back to anyone; one human who was tall and light-haired; one human who Threll had not been able to mislead.      Tom Paris.      That was how B'Elanna had managed to escape. Somehow, Paris been able to infiltrate his headquarters, avoid being caught and save his precious girlfriend. Threll mumbled to himself for allowing himself to be so careless. But now was not the time for self-pity. He had to find both of them. He had to get B'Elanna back.      The anger had returned. "Find both the woman and the man. And I want them alive. Do you understand?"     The guard quickly nodded his head obediently. "Yes, sir." But as he began to leave, the guard was stopped by a group of soldiers coming towards him from the opposite direction.      "Sir," said one of the guards, phaser in hand.      Threll looked at the guards, in hopes that they had already found his prisoners. "Have you succeeded?" he asked.     Each of the guards' faces began to waver in disappointment. Their supposed representative replied, "No, sir. They managed to enter the turbo lift. What should we do?"     Threll didn't have time to contemplate on what action would be best. He knew where Paris and B'Elanna were probably heading. "First floor. That's were they're heading. Seal the exits. I don't want them to leave this building!"     "Yes, sir!" replied the guards.      And just as their conversations had been brief, so were their feet. Hastily, they marched to the first floor using a second a turbo lift, so that they may beat the twosome before they could escape.                          ***     President Threll had never run so fast in his life. If he wanted to get B'Elanna back, he would have to run. Once he and his guards had arrived on the first floor, they immediately moved to the other turbo lift. They knew that once those doors opened, they would find B'Elanna and Tom and they would win.      Threll rushed to the turbo lift doors and waited in pride to see it open and to find his catch. He waited.      Phasers were armed and ready. The air was silent in anticipation. Threll smiled. The doors opened.     And no one was there.     A large gasp filled the corridor as each soldier saw the turbo lift empty. No B'Elanna. No Paris. Absolutely nobody.     President Threll could only gape his mouth in astonishment, surprise and...anger. He leapt into the turbo lift, raiding it with wild eyes and fierce hands despite the fact that the lift was obviously empty. His rage merely would not let him accept it.        "They have to be here!" he yelled. "They couldn't have just disappeared!" Finally, he stopped his tantrum and faced his equally confused guards. He looked at them with all the scrutiny and resentment a distraught man could use. He wanted them to tell him anything that could bring him the answers to the whereabouts of Tom and B'Elanna, but they were as lost as he was. As the denial slowly wore off its tumultuous effect, Threll exited the lift, the door sliding closed behind him, and clasped his hands together tightly. He was thinking. "Maybe they stopped off on another level. Yes, maybe they're still here." He abruptly turned to his soldiers and said, "I want an entire search of building! Of the city! Understood? They couldn't have gotten far. Go! Find them!" He flayed his arms in an frustrated attempt to make them move faster.     They followed as he ordered, and quickly spread out to cover as much ground as possible. Most of them started to make their way to various rooms located on that floor, while a few marched out of the building and onto the streets outside. Threll, on the other hand, paced back and forth for a few moments, thinking of what he could have missed. Perhaps he had been too careless. Perhaps he hadn't thought everything out as precisely as he should have. Thoughts such as these persisted until he straightened up and decided that the best course of action was to look elsewhere, until he found her. Threll had let her go once; had lost his chance at power because of her. He wouldn't let that happen again.     Hastily, Threll began his search for B'Elanna as he turned around the corner of the corridor.      All that remained was a delicate silence, tainted only by the constant murmurs of an alarm system.      Suddenly, within the abandoned turbo lift, movement flickered. It emerged from the lower right side of the wall where a seemingly sealed panel began to stir. It was silent, cautious, wanting as little attention as possible. But the sound slowly grow audible as the panel bustled with increasing fervor. Something was trying to open it from the other side.      Finally, with one gentle push, the panel opened, and two hands came forth, quietly placing the large panel on the floor. Within seconds, the entire body that belonged to those hands carefully progressed out of which was covered by the panel and entered the turbo lift.                Tom Paris had just squeezed out of a tight compartment known only to him and to the second body that emerged from the secret section. B'Elanna Torres took in a deep sigh of relief once she was completely inside the turbo lift again. They had made it.      "It's amazing he didn't find us," said B'Elanna as she slowly began to stand up. "How did you think of hiding in there?"     Paris too stood up and replied, "I remembered looking at it the first time I used the turbo lift. No one would think to look there. I guess we were lucky."     Luck. Miracles. They all had some part in it. When Tom and B'Elanna had barely made it into the turbo lift while still on the second floor, they needed to think of a plan. Paris had then suddenly thought of the large panel on the side wall. Upon opening it, he had discovered a secret compartment, big enough for two people to squeeze into and hide. Thankfully, when Threll had entered the turbo lift himself, he hadn't thought to look behind the carefully reattached panel. Now, with a few seconds to spare, Tom and B'Elanna had to think of another plan.      Paris moved to the turbo lift door and placed his ear against it, wondering if someone was still standing on the other side.      Silence.      That was a good sign. "They probably think we're somewhere else in the building," said Tom, turning back to face B'Elanna. "I think this is our chance to escape."     B'Elanna crossed her arms and thought about the options. There was a chance they could get caught, but, the opportunity was there, and they needed to take it. "Okay," she said, taking in a deep breath of air. "Let's go."     With that, Tom gently pulled B'Elanna towards the side of the lift, and waited for the door to slid open. It was a necessary precaution for them to pause before entering the corridor. They didn't exactly know what they were heading into. Noticing the empty hallway, they began to walk out of the turbo lift and make their way through the brightly-lit corridor. Just like before, Paris continuously checked behind them just to make sure no one had seen them. They narrowly escaped past the guards once. They might not be so lucky the second time around.      A corner was coming up. Realizing the heightened risk they now faced, both Tom and B'Elanna slowed down their pace and stopped once they reached the corner. They carefully peered around the wall and gasped ever so slightly. They saw a massive doorway that led into an even larger complex. To Tom, it reminded him a one of those twentieth century garages he worked in while on the holodeck. Except this one was bigger, probably a cargo bay of sorts, and filled with shuttles and computer consoles, and at the far end of this room, there was another door that opened directly outside. This was there chance. This was their road to liberty. If they could just make it to the other side of the room, they were home free. There was just one problem. People. Lots of people. Workers. Guards. All standing between them and independence.     He managed to glance at B'Elanna, who stood silently beside him, and knew, right off, what she was thinking. He was thinking it too. "We need to get past those people without getting caught," he said.      "But how, Tom?" she asked, her mind trying desperately to think of ways, of answers to this imperative question.     He didn't exactly know yet. With so many people around, it was nearly impossible to walk out without being noticed. He wished for a distraction. Like the one in the prison cell. But as he looked around, not a single thing fit that description. Sighing, he looked back at B'Elanna, at her unusually worried face, and silently regretted not coming up with a more precise plan of evacuation. Paris had come to Threll's planet with the intent of saving B'Elanna. He had succeeded with that part. Now came the second part, the part where he and B'Elanna would escape the premises, and he prayed for something - anything - that could help them at this moment.       Suddenly, the sound of a man walking, and wheels turning, caught the twosomes' attention. Bracing themselves to run the other way, they searched for the origin of the sound.      Entering from another corridor, a man pushing a large transportation cart at least five feet high, stopped in front of the doorway that led to the garage. The man, most definitely a scientist of some sort due to his tidy, blue tunic and pants, walked towards a security guard at the threshold of the doorway. Neither Paris nor B'Elanna could really make out any of the words spoken between the guard and scientist for they were at most, several feet away, but a couple of miscellaneous words did manage to filter through the conversation. Something about "preparing the cargo" and "necessary supplies." Needless to say, it did not make total sense.     To B'Elanna, however, it did. "They're probably talking about the Tylocks. Threll wants to take over their whole planet."     Paris shook his head, appalled at the unreasonable and unjust tenacity of Threll and his people. He could only be grateful that he had gotten to B'Elanna as soon as he could. But what about the Tylocks? They would have to warn the Tylocks as soon they could as well.      Just then, the scientist proceeded to follow the guard further into the garage, leaving his transport cart completely unattended - a transport cart covered by a thick sheet to possibly prevent any tampering. The transport cart was probably going to be escorted into the garage where it would be...close to the door connected the outside.      Yes, it's perfect! thought Paris. They had been given another chance. He turned to B'Elanna and grasped her hand. "Let's hide inside the transport cart. Then we'll have access to the door once we've made it close enough."     A part of her hesitated, stricken with the thought that the plan was too dangerous, too risky. But another part, her Klingon side, the one that wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible, knew it was their only chance. She took one last glance at the doorway, checking to make sure that the scientist had not returned, and she nodded her head. "Okay."     He nodded back, smiled assuredly, and then turned to the cart that seemed to invite them with open arms. Quietly, they began their trek towards their hope. Paris gently lifted the sheet and let B'Elanna crawl into the cart first. He then followed, and let the sheet fall back down, covering them from their enemy and from the oncoming voices that seemed to grow louder. They had barely made it.      Suddenly, the cart began to move, slow at first, but picking up some speed. They only hoped that no one had noticed the added weight on the cart. As the seconds rolled by, along with the cart, the risk of being caught diminished. Now they could relax, and take a look at their new surroundings. Apparently, the cart wasn't as big as Paris had thought it was, but it did the job. He and B'Elanna scrunched together, knees to chest and sat as quietly and motionless as possible. The only sound that seemed to register was their breathing, deep and concentrated, waiting for the cart to stop near the door - waiting for their freedom.      The cart continued its course through the garage-type room, occasionally stopping, then moving. But Paris' main concern was where the cart's final destination would be. He hoped, with all his might, that it would be close to that fateful door linked to the outside world. If not, they would need a miracle to get past the people whose voices both Paris and B'Elanna could hear quite clearly. But, somehow, they would get through it. They had to.     Only a minute or two after Tom and B'Elanna had boarded the cart, did it completely stop. They hesitated, wondering what would come next. Would it start to move again? Or was this it? The moment of truth. A few seconds past by. The cart remained still. Paris knew he had to see what was happening outside the cart and know exactly where they were. He motioned to B'Elanna and pointed towards the sheet.      She nodded her head and watched as Paris quietly pushed aside the corner section of the sheet. Cautiously, his eyes roved around the garage, moving from person...to person...to computer console...to the door. He had found it! He stared at the open door that stood maybe seven feet away from their present spot. He could make out the trees in the distance. This was their ticket out. And as he glanced around one last time, he noticed that the person who had pushed the cart here was meters away. Sure there were a couple of guards scattered about, but if he and B'Elanna ran fast enough, they could lose them in the city. Yes, they would have to make a run for it.      Paris turned back to B'Elanna and nodded his head. She knew what that meant.      It was time.      Taking in a deep breath of air, she nodded back.  He grasped her hand securely, slowly poked his head from the corner of the sheet to see if the area was safe enough to enter, and then, quickly pushed himself out of the cart, B'Elanna by his side. They crouched on floor, their back to the cart that had so graciously brought them in, and then looked towards the open door on their right. It was so close - a few feet away! Hearing oncoming footsteps, they decided that it was now or never.      Paris nodded to her one last time, a subtle way of saying, "Now" and they were off. Flinging to their feet, they ran towards the door, aware that at any moment one those guards would turn around and see two people escaping through the back door of the building. But neither of them cared because all thoughts were focused on one motion: running. That and silent praying for some added help.      Just as they reached the threshold of the doorway, sounds of guards running and shouting emanated from behind. They had been seen. But that didn't matter.      "Keep going!" said Tom, as he and B'Elanna exited the building and began to run through the street of Remi Bitoria. They ran, past the curious onlookers and trailed by a multitude of soldiers. They ran as if the wind had given them wings to fly.      They ran.                          ***     President Threll had seen them from the corner of his eye as he had entered the cargo bay. He could see them sprinting towards the door that led outside. How did they manage to get this far? He wanted to yell at himself for not catching them. He wanted to yell at others for the same reason. But that was not way to go about doing things now.      He could still catch them.      "They're over there!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.     The guards within the room turned abruptly just in time to see Tom and B'Elanna running out the door. Military training immediately went into affect. The soldiers seized their phasers and began to run after the two officers. Threll followed close behind, continuing to spew forth orders and commands.      "Don't let them get away!" he yelled once more as he exited the building. He moved his head this way and that to try and see B'Elanna through the crowds of people that flooded the streets. Finally he caught sight of them, moving towards the forest that bordered the city. The forest would be rugged and difficult to maneuver through, but he and his guards would manage. There was too much at sake for them not to.      Threll continued to run beside his entourage of soldiers.      They had started the hunt.                         ***Chapter Fifteen     Harry Kim had rarely ever flown the Delta Flyer.      In fact, never would be more like it. The shuttle was always Tom's baby. He knew its pros and cons, its strengths and weaknesses. He could fly it through almost any type of turbulence there was.     Unfortunately, Tom wasn't here. He was somewhere on the surface of Remi Bitoria, having used a different shuttle to get there. Hopefully with B'Elanna by his side. Now, it was Kim's duty to find both Tom and B'Elanna. It was his turn to fly.      As Harry and Seven of Nine had loaded the shuttle with various medical instruments and tricordors - one had to expect the unexpected, - Harry continued to repeat the same sentence over and over again in his mind.      B'Elanna is alive.      True, he had been on the bridge when Captain Janeway had made her spectacular discovery, but the fact remained and it was a shock. He had seen the shuttle explode. He guessed that only went to show that not everything is as it seems to be. Especially now.      Now Voyager had a second chance. They could save B'Elanna and Paris. They could bring an end to this war and to the corruption of President Threll and Captain Warnog. These were Voyager's goals. And now, more than ever, Harry's mission.      "How's it coming?" asked Captain Janeway, her voice flowing through the intercom net from the bridge of the ship to the shuttle itself.      Harry's head perked up as he sat in front of a computer console. "Just fine, captain. We're just about to enter the planet's atmosphere."     "Good," she replied. "Commander Chakotay has been doing a great job of keeping Warnog distracted so he won't notice you. You should be okay. But be careful, Harry. Tuvok has informed me that the atmosphere can get a little rough especially with that force field."     The ensign smiled and straightened his shoulders in an attempt to summon a greater supply of confidence. "Don't worry, Captain. I've fixed the shuttle. I'm sure we can hold it out."     Janeway's voice echoed a similar smile. "I trust you and Seven enough to know you'll do your best. Bring our officers back safe and sound. Janeway out." And the voice on the other end ceased to speak.      Harry turned to face his traveling companion Seven, who stood at another console in the slightly snug shuttle. "How's the shuttle doing so far?" he asked.     The borg took a glance at Harry and then resumed her technical duty to the computer in front of her. "The shuttle is stable, for now."     Harry sighed, knowing full well that though he had spent hours working on the Delta Flyer in hopes of returning it to its complete potential, he knew the risks they faced. Nevertheless, he tried to remain optimistic. "We just have to make through 10, 000 km. Then we'll be past the rough spots."      "Let us hope you are correct," Seven replied, her expression, unflinching.      Harry nodded understandingly. "So am I."     His words caused Seven to take a final glance at Harry; at the slight worry his face contained. Perhaps, Harry Kim's youthful imprudence had given way to some mature precaution. To Seven of Nine, precaution was a necessity and a difficult quality to acquire. But her reflection was suddenly cut short when a beeping in front of her seized her attention. After studying it for a moment, she announced to Harry, "We are entering the atmosphere."     Harry could feel the tension rising. "Shuttle power is still at 100% and shields are holding. Wait - ." His monitor told so otherwise. "Shields are dropping. We're at 80%." Suddenly, he wished he had spent more time working on the Delta Flyer.     Seven continued to work hastily at her computer, trying to calm the shuttle's nerves. "We are continuing to hold, but I am reading power fluctuations and they are increasing."     Great, thought Harry. Just what they needed. He could feel the shuttle began to succumb to the boisterous and untamed forces outside. "Shields are now at 50%. Seven, try to compensate for the turbulence. We have about 5,000km left. We can still make it."     She followed as told, but shook her head in end. "It is not working. The fluctuations are threatening to cause a breach in the shuttle."     He grew worried. "Keep trying to compensate. 4, 000 km and closing." The shuttle continued to shake with a growing ferocity. The sound of its commotion and the beeping and warnings from the computers infiltrated the officers' ears. Somehow,  landing became more than just a routine act, it became an obstacle. "Shields at 40%! We're losing altitude!"     "The fluctuations have increased. We are in danger of a breach," added Seven, her voice slightly louder than usual.      There was other no choice now. Harry thought they could have made it. But he hadn't predicated this kind of chaos. So, now he had to face that irreversible fact: the shuttle would not be able to stand it any longer. They had to do an emergency landing and hope for the best. "We have to land," he said. "We're closing in on a clearing. Not where we intended to land, but good enough." He could see Seven nod from the corner of eye. She was concentrating hard on salvaging the ship. So was he. "It's going be a bumpy landing, Seven. You better hold on!"     "We are losing power," continued Seven, though her grip on the console tightened with each passing second.      Harry, taking one last look at Seven to make sure she was still safe, clutched the panel in front of him to steady himself. They had ridden this shuttle with the intent on saving Tom and B'Elanna, but the malfunctions had erupted so quickly. Now, the only thing they could do was pray. He yelled, "Brace for impact!"           They did just that.                         ***     Commander Chakotay had a mission.     Actually, he had two missions.     The first one, in which he had to divert Captain Warnog's attention long enough for Harry Kim and Seven of Nine to land on Remi Bitoria, had been a success. Warnog was too occupied with the battle to notice the Delta Flyer whiz past them, undetected. Chakotay only hoped that his two officers had succeeded in their own mission safely.      However, his second mission was fairly more complex.      Now, he had to stop the battle.      His only problem: How? He could try and reinitiate negotiations with Warnog; try and talk him out of continuing this senseless fighting. But he knew that Warnog wouldn't be too inclined to listen to reason. So, Chakotay decided Plan B would be more effective. At least, he hoped so.      Chakotay walked calmly on to the bridge of Voyager and stopped in front of the view screen. "Tuvok," he said, glancing over to the lieutenant who stood behind one of the computer consoles. "Hail Manos on Tylock."           Within a second, the image of the Tylock leader appeared on the screen. He smiled as he nodded to Voyager's commander. His light green hair that stood firmly a top his head and the blue tunic that draped his body complimented his golden skin. His friendly face was a such a drastic change from the pugnacious battle going on.      "Hello, Commander," said Manos. "Is there something the matter?"     "Yes, there is," Chakotay replied, nodding his head. He had to get right to the point. "We have come across vital information of a potentially dangerous plot to take over your colony."     The startled expression on Manos' face was enough to let Chakotay know that the Tylock was not expecting this news. "Who is threatening my peoples' safety?" Manos asked.     "You actually had a run in with him before. Captain Warnog and even President Threll of Remi Bitoria. It is a planet just outside your own orbit."     And he slowly began to understand the scale on which this new information had placed itself on. "They want to take over our planet? But why?"     "I'm not sure of the details," Chakotay answered, "but we believe it might have something to do with your antimatter system."     Manos placed a thoughtful hand on to his face, and quickly pondered this unexpected event. It was always his nature to think before act. His priority was his people - that was unmistakable. Turning his focus back to Chakotay, he said, "Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Commander. Once again, your Voyager has saved our people."     A sudden, if not welcome, feeling of satisfaction entered into Chakotay. He had been a part of something that had helped an entire nation, and though he wished that a happy ending would bestow itself upon them all at this moment, he knew that it was not over yet. "Actually, Manos," he began, "We are more than willing to help in your defense. In fact, we were hoping that we both may work together in defeating Warnog and Threll. If you need any weapons or man power, we can assist you -."     But Manos quickly placed a hand up to kindly stop the commander from continuing. "I thank you for your concern. However, we have ample resources to stop Warnog."     Chakotay glanced at him with subtle surprise. Apparently, the Tylocks were not only friendly, but resolute as well. "You do?"     "Yes," said Manos. "Though amicability does not interact well with fire arm, we use our weapons as a last resort of defense. So, with my weapons and your valiant ship, we could bring justice to this unfortunate turn of events."     Smiling, Chakotay replied, "I'm sure we can."     The other nodded his head in gratitude. "My army will be standing by for any new information. Thank you again."     "Thank you." And with that, the screen on board Voyager resumed its original view of the space battle that continued to impend before them. Chakotay couldn't help but feel a stronger sense of hope building inside of them. With the Tylocks beside Voyager, defeating Warnog seemed to prove less difficult.      However, there was one last part to Plan B. This involved a conversation with Warnog himself.      "Tuvok," said Chakotay, stiffening his back; preparing himself for this next set of words, "Hail Captain Warnog. I'm sure he will be more than happy when I tell him of our meeting with Manos." He couldn't help but throw in that last sentence for he knew what Warnog's reaction would be.      "Chakotay," said Warnog as he popped onto the view screen. Apparently, he still believed that his side was going to win. "Give up?"     "Actually," replied a newly confident Commander, "I was just about to ask you the same question."      Surprisingly, Warnog didn't have a comeback for that. His confusion seemed to render him speechless. So, Chakotay continued forth, smiling as he did. "You see, Warnog, we here have figured out your conspiracy against the Tylocks and I just had a talk with Manos, leader of the Tylocks. Your surprise attack on his people is no longer a surprise. In fact, if you try and continue this battle, you will not only have us to worry about, but the Tylocks as well."     Never had such an overwhelmed expression taken residence upon Warnog's face. He truly had not been expecting this speech from Chakotay. He had not expected his plan to be overturned so quickly. And he began to stutter. "How did you figure out- how- how did you know?"     Chakotay did not falter one bit. "That's not the issue, Warnog. Stopping this battle is. Face it. Your plan has failed. You won't win."     And slowly Warnog lost his arrogance and his confidence in his plan. His eyes began to droop and his mouth began to quiver with a sense of realization; with a sense of defeat.      It was then that Chakotay knew: the battle was over.                               ***           They continued to run.           Through the streets of Remi Bitoria and into the forest that encompassed the city. Tom Paris knew that if he and B'Elanna could just make it to the shuttle, they would be safe. But sound of guards continued to grow. They were gaining speed.     Paris looked over to B'Elanna who ran steadily beside him, her Klingon strength pushing her forward, over protruding branches and husky rocks. And suddenly, he realized that his strength, his push, came from B'Elanna herself. He couldn't let Threll take her back. He couldn't let B'Elanna down. He wouldn't.      "Keep running!" he told her, his words showered with short gasps for air. "The shuttle's just on the other side of that hill!"     Nodding and urged by his hopeful words, she quickened her pace. They would be home soon. It was then that she took an abrupt glance at her fellow crewman, at the determination that sprinkled his face and fueled his agility. And she knew that they would get through this. Paris would make certain of that. So would she. But she prayed for that added strength.      Paris stared at the hill that seemed to wave at them with a pleasing smile. If they could just see over the crest; if they could just see the shuttle, they would be okay. They ran faster and faster, past the evergreen trees, and the bushes that dotted the area. They ran to the foot of hill, gearing to run on a upward slant.      But suddenly, they stopped.      "Wait!" said Paris, grasping B'Elanna hand. "Do you hear that?"     She listened attentively, toning out her ragged breathing. She listened...and she heard. Voices. Loud, tumultuous voices that seemed to grow louder with each passing second. They were coming from over the hill. "What is that?" she asked.     He continued to stare at the top of the hill, waiting to see if he could at least identify the source. He waited with curious eyes. And then he squinted. He saw something. A shape, a silhouette of some sort, just barely a top the hill. Then another one and another.      All at once, he knew. He glanced at a wide-eyed B'Elanna and understood the meaning of her expression. She knew too.      The voices were soldiers. Threll's soldiers. Lots of them. And heading straight towards them.      "Run," said Paris, his voice slow from the onset of shock. His passion soon returned. "Run!" he said once more.     And the same determination that had pushed them this far, propelled them once more, but in another direction. They started to run towards the right, diagonal to the hill and away from the approaching mob of guards.      Now Paris could feel a real and growing panic welling up inside of him. The plan he had depended on; the plan they thought would succeed had failed. The shuttle they had come so close to was now blocked by a fierce caravan of soldiers following them with immense speed.      And because both he and B'Elanna were being slowly flushed out by persistent guards, he did not know where they were heading. He did not have the leisure to check his tricordor for any kind of a detour they might take. All they had was instinct. All they had was hope.     Hope, that after the thick patch of trees residing a few meters in front of them, there would be something that could save them. A sanctuary maybe. Something that could show him and B'Elanna a way out. They could only hope for that.                         ***     The soldiers continued their fervent chase, through the forest that had managed  to slow them down only a bit. They continued because they were told to. By President Threll.      Threll pursued the chase because he would not see his plans overturned by a figure from the past. He would not allow B'Elanna Torres escape. Not this time. So he tried to think of ways that would give his side the advantage. True, he had more men and a better knowledge of the terrain. But when he communicated with headquarters' security via intercom net, he had received a bonus. His security had informed him that an unauthorized shuttle was situated 150 km east of the city, within the forest.      Immediately, he knew whose shuttle that was. Tom Paris'. It was Tom and B'Elanna's ticket off the planet. Until, of course, Threll found it first. He and a second group of soldiers had found the shuttle nestled in a clearing, on the foot of the hill. And he realized that on the other side of that particular hill, rushing to reach the shuttle would be none other than Tom and B'Elanna. All he would have to do was surprise the bait; catch them off guard.      However, his plan didn't exactly go as he hoped it would. Tom and B'Elanna had somehow seen his soldiers coming from a far, giving the two officers a head start the other way. But that didn't matter because Threll knew exactly where they were heading. And it was right where he wanted them to be. Trapped.                          ***Chapter Sixteen     Harry Kim could only thank God for what had happened in the past ten seconds of his life. After bracing for what he imaged would be a stormy and uproarious crash landing on the planet of Remi Bitoria; after the walls of the fortunately brawny shuttle began to waver and moan under pressure; after feeling themselves jolt from their stationary positions as the shuttle contacted the earth, slamming into the ground with such intensity, they had somehow made it.      They had managed to land the shuttle intact. They had managed to survive. That was enough cause for excitement on Harry's part. As he lifted his head, searching the interior for any damage, he saw an uninjured Seven standing as resilient as ever. He couldn't help but smile.      "You okay, Seven?" he asked, his voice a stark contrast to the silence that presided over the bruised shuttle.     "Yes," she replied. She then looked around, at the rumble they had taken, and felt grateful that they had actually remained unscathed. "Thankfully, yes."     Harry nodded. "Good. The shuttle doesn't look too bad." He then noticed some of the computer screens flickering on and off and wondered exactly what had been harmed. "Let's check sensors. See if they're okay too."      Seven quickly began a diagnostic of their present condition, and once completed, looked back at a curious Harry. "Main power is still on line and the fluctuations have subsided. However, our engine drive is unstable. It would be unwise to try and resume flight."     That wasn't exactly what Harry wanted to hear, but he knew that was the inevitable truth. "We're going to have to try something to get it moving." He then rechecked his own computer console and said, "I think we landed on sand. Probably a beach. From these coordinates, it looks like we're not that far off from we wanted to land in the first place. But I can't get a lock on Tom or B'Elanna because our sensors are down."      Suddenly, a new voice interrupted their analysis. The voice filtered over the intercom net, and though that meant that communications were on line, the static it harbored meant the shuttle still needed apparent aid.      "Voyager to Delta Flyer. Come in." It was Captain Janeway.     From the way her words sounded, Harry could just picture Janeway folding her arms in that concerned way she always did. "We're here, Captain," he replied. "I guess I figured that atmosphere out all wrong."     "We had lost contact with you for a few seconds," she continued, but with an obvious hint of relief included. She was thankful that her officers had remained safe throughout the turmoil. "Are you both all right?"     Seven took her turn this time. "Yes, Captain. We were spared from any harm when we temporarily lost control of the shuttle."     "At least you're both fine. How is the shuttle doing?" asked Janeway.      Harry glanced at Seven, remembering what she had told him about their prized shuttle. "It look's like we haven't sustained any permanent damage. But the engine drive is still off line. I don't know if we can get her up again. And sensors are down which means we can't pinpoint where Tom and B'Elanna are." He heard a sigh on the other line. He knew his captain was thinking.      "Well," said Janeway, "Try to get the shuttle back on line. We still need to find them."     He nodded in agreement. "Yes, captain. We'll get right on it."     "Good," she replied. "Hail us if you need assistance. Voyager out."                         ***     B'Elanna Torres maneuvered herself past the bulky evergreen trees, ducking under rebellious limbs and hopping over prominent rocks. She pushed herself to keep running even though tired muscles yearned for rest. She continued because she needed to. She needed to leave the planet. She needed her freedom. She needed to be home.      She glanced to her right and managed to get a glimpse of Paris, running beside her with the same ardor she felt. And despite the chaos surrounding them because of Threll and his soldiers, she couldn't help but smile. Tom Paris had come for her. In spite the of odds, he had chosen to search for her; to believe in her.      It was commitment such as this that allowed her to realize the truth within their relationship. The truth being that they had and would always have a bond with other. Physical. Mental. Spiritual. They all played in a role in it. Something told her that this was the kind of relationship that would last forever.      She prayed it would.      A growing light caused B'Elanna to return back to the situation at hand. She could see the light increasing in brightness as they inched their way through the thick grove in the forest. She wondered what that light would signify. Another city? A clearing? She would soon find out.      Within seconds, Paris and B'Elanna burst through the forest, and found themselves bathed in the warm and translucent sunlight. They found themselves underneath a massive blue sky, unmasked by towering trees.      And suddenly, they found themselves trapped.      As they continued to run, their pace slowing down just a little to allow their breathing to strengthen, they soon realized what they had entered.      The cliffs.      Miles and miles of brown canyons spanned from one end of the planet to the next. No trees. No buildings. No city.      No sanctuary.      They had no where else to run.      Their pace returned to a fast walk as they approached closer to the edge of the cliff. Their eyes wide with astonishment, they could not speak. Shock had rendered them unable to think of what to say and how to say it. They ran all that way, past guards and trees. They had come so close, only to be trapped by a cliff. They couldn't retrace their footsteps for they knew that at any moment, soldiers welding phasers would barge through that forest, coming for them.      They had no shuttle. No means of escape. No way out.     Tom turned to face an equally distressed B'Elanna and felt a sudden wave of guilt and disappointment expose itself on his face and in his words. "This can't be happening!" he yelled. "I thought we would make it."     B'Elanna, as she continued to gaze over the stretch of cliffs, could feel the frustration growing within her. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. "He can't win!" she said about Threll. "We were so close."     Indeed, they were close. So close in fact that a part of Paris continued a fruitless search for another way. But barren rocks and open terrain yielded no more than a saddened groan.      When he looked at B'Elanna's torn face, his anger subsided and guilt took it's place. Guilt that he had not saved her. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm sorry, B'Elanna."     Hearing his solemn, sincere words, she walked over to him and gently told a hold of his hand. "Don't be sorry, Tom. You've done more me for than I could ever imagine. You made me love you even more and that's a feat in itself." She tried dry humor as a last attempt at saving what hope they had left.      He smiled that boyish smile of his and replied, "Ya got me there." He glanced at the forest that stood several meters away from them and then turned back to B'Elanna. "They'll be coming soon."     She nodded regretfully. "I know."     Paris cringed at the grief her tone exuded. He cupped her chin gently in his hands, looked into her soulful eyes and then smiled. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."     She could feel a heartfelt chuckle rising in her throat. "You had to pick this exact moment to tell me that. Where were you two days ago?" It was mild sarcasm, something she and Paris had often used to lighten the mood.      He laughed as much as she did, and then leaned so close to her, they could hear the rhythm in each other's breathing. "You know me," he whispered. "I like to choose these special moments."      Their brief silence allowed other sounds to take shape. Birds sang as they flew freely above them. Waves lapped against a shore somewhere below the cliffs. And the sound of the soldiers marching swiftly on the forest ground floated towards them with growing acuteness. It wouldn't be much longer.      "I love you, B'Elanna," he continued. His words were true enough to cause her unwavering stature to tremble slightly while standing on the threshold of tears. He embraced her, not wanting to cause her any more sadness than was already present. "You're everything to me."     B'Elanna could only feel the same way. "I love you too, Tom. I trust with my life. I still do." She paused, then said, "Thank you for coming for me."     Words could no longer explain what intense feelings aspired inside them. They could only entangle in each other's arms and smile at the bliss they shared; at the bliss they thought they would share for long time to come. But now, as they saw the soldiers running out of the forest and onto the cliffs, they knew that time was short.      But they continued to embrace.                          ***     "Come on. You have to work!" ordered a very disgruntled Harry Kim to a rather stubborn Delta Flyer. He continued to fiddle with the circuits that flowed through a panel in the side wall of the interior. He fiddled with it because he knew that therein lied the answer to their problem. Somewhere in there.      "Your persistence is futile," said Seven who nevertheless tried to help Harry by working on the sensors.      He shrugged his shoulders. "It's worth a try. I know we can get it moving again. I mean, I fixed this drive just this morning."     Seven's practical side resumed it's control. "We must contact Voyager and tell them of our misfortune."     "Tell you what, Seven," he said, continuing to fix the circuits. "We'll use the suggestion as a last resort. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."     Somehow, she agreed. "Indeed."     Her renewed sense of optimism must have been the trick because at that moment, the soft hum of the engine echoed throughout the shuttle. "Yes!" he yelled. "We did it! We're back in business." Rarely did Harry Kim show this much enthusiasm, but this was an exception. He slid back into his seat and began punching in coordinates and commands into the computer. "The engine drive is on line."     Seven glared at her computer screen and confirmed his remark. "The engine is stable. Sensors are also operational."     Things were definitely looking up. Harry smiled as he said, "That means we can track down Tom and B'Elanna. Good work, Seven."     The former borg glanced at an obviously excited Harry and replied, in all sincerity, "And you as well."     Surprised by the compliment, he smiled a little more. Yup, things were definitely going good.                         ***     They could hear the soldiers coming closer and closer. In less than a minute Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres were going to be captured by President Threll, thrown back into jail and barred from receiving any of the freedom they longed for. True, Voyager would probably continue their search for the them, but he knew that Threll would find some way of fooling their crewman into leaving him and B'Elanna behind.      It had happened before.     Tom only wished he had followed his feelings about the truth of B'Elanna's "death" sooner. Maybe things could have been different. But that didn't matter now, did it?            Tom and B'Elanna continued to embrace, unable to let go. They had been lost and found in the course of two days. Hope had guided them through perilous situations. And now, after what they had been through, the end result was a little more than a loss. They could keep fighting. They could keep running, but for how long? Exhaustion had worn them down and the cliffs had become their barrier. All they could do was wait. Wait for soldiers. Wait for defeat.      Wait for a miracle to save them.      "There they are!" came the shouts from the oncoming soldiers.      Paris took another look at B'Elanna; at the woman he now had sworn his life to and he smiled. "Always remember I love you," he said.     She knew he meant it. Knew that she felt an equal longing for him too. "I always have," she replied. "I always will. I love you, Tom."      And in spite of the soldiers, in spite of their current situation, they kissed. Tenderness, sweetness, innocence: acting as the foundation for this kiss. A kiss that, though had lasted for only a moment, would live in their hearts forever.      The two then glanced at the soldiers coming to take them as prisoners. The only thing left to do was let them. The time had come.     Or so they thought.     Suddenly, as if Heaven had smiled on them; as if the world was anew again; as if life could not have gotten any better, their miracle occurred. Rising from the beach below the cliffs was something Tom and B'Elanna never thought they'd see again.      The Delta Flyer.      Smiles and laughter flourished on their faces and in their hearts. It was the Delta Flyer sent to come and save them. How Voyager had known to send it to their exact location was not the issue. Not now. Not when the everything seemed right again.           "Harry to Tom, come in," said the voice on their the intercom net.     "It's good to hear you, Harry," he replied, good-naturedly.     "Ready to come on board?" asked the ensign on board the shuttle.     Paris smiled at his friend's understatement. "More than you'll ever know."     "Okay," said Harry just as he locked on to Tom and B'Elanna's coordinates. He watched as they beamed directly onto the Delta Flyer, away from the menacing soldiers and from an agitated Threll.      Once safely on board the shuttle, Harry pressed his communicator button that hailed Voyager's captain . "We have Tom and B'Elanna, " he said. "And we're coming home."     "Great work," Janeway replied.     And with that, the Delta Flyer pushed itself higher and higher, until it finally zoomed through the atmosphere of Remi Bitoria and towards a welcoming Voyager.      Left behind in the dust of the shuttle, was President Threll, crying in utter defeat.                         ***Chapter Seventeen     Captain's Log, Stardate 52549.4:      I am happy to report that Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres are safely back on board Voyager. Ensign Harry Kim and Seven of Nine were able to fix the Delta Flyer's engine drive and sensors. They were then able to track Tom and B'Elanna and beam them aboard the shuttle. We have warned the Tylocks of the impending invasion from President Threll and Captain Warnog. In response, they have prepared their army and weaponry in case they must assume a defense. However, Captain Warnog has decided to surrender, possibly because the Tylocks now know of the surprise attack. Warnog has promised to dismantle any weapons they are carrying on board as a means of reconciliation. On the matter of President Threll, he is no longer president. It seems his people have decided that Threll was not as great a leader as he thought he was.          Captain Janeway stood up from her captain chair on the bridge and walked closer to the view screen in front of her. It showed the image of an overthrown Rommack Threll, his words showing what happens when defeat and regret collide.      "My people are now against me. I have you to thank for that," he said, though none too graciously.     Janeway nodded, but felt it was just. "You brought it upon yourself, Threll. You failed to see the connection between power and respect. You kidnapped an officer of mine, and threw the other one in jail. And for what?"     "Because I had a plan," he replied ardently. "B'Elanna was going to my answer, but, like always, she did not see my way of thinking."     "Have you ever thought," said Janeway, "that perhaps your way of thinking failed to encompass one thing: honesty?"     He merely grunted at the suggestion. Apparently, it would take Threll some time to come to terms with himself and with the respect he needed to give others.      Janeway continued, "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to think about this as you live you your life as a normal citizen of Remi Bitoria. Voyager out."     And the screen went black.      Captain Janeway slowly walked back to her seat, pushing resistant strands of hair behind her ear. She then sunk into her chair and sighed, relaxation finally able to live comfortably within her.      "What's going to happen to Threll now?" asked a curious Chakotay who sat just as comfortably beside her.      She glanced at him, weariness giving way to some optimism. "Well," she began, "He will continue to live in Remi Bitoria. Get a job. Do some time as well as some community service and answer to some angry councilmen on the conduct befitting a leader. It seems the council was not aware of Threll's plan of take over, nor were they aware of Threll's belligerent attitude towards his people. Now both the Remi Bitorians and the Tylocks are safe.          Chakotay nodded, and even cracked a smile. The irony was just too much. "I guess it's true what they say. The bigger they are, the harder they fall."     Janeway agreed with his conclusion. "Ain't that the truth," she replied in a manner that completely contrasted her usually professional demeanor.     Glancing over to the helm, Chakotay noticed that Tom Paris wasn't at his expected post. He turned to his captain and asked, "Where's Tom and B'Elanna?"     Janeway turned to face her first commanding officer and smiled. She knew that both Tom and B'Elanna deserved some time to themselves. "I decided to give them a little vacation."                          ***     The island was placed delicately on the glittering sea of the Caribbean. Majestic mountains hovered in the center of the isle, while lush greenery adorned the foothills and brilliantly colored meadows below. This was a paradise bordered only by a white sandy beach, and kissed by a blue sea; all crowned by a sky as rich as sapphires and as vast as space itself.     "It's beautiful," whispered B'Elanna Torres, in complete awe of her natural surroundings. She watched as an exotic bird gingerly glided over them and landed on the tiny ripples that decorated the sea. "It all looks so real."      Tom Paris, walking beside her on the shore, nodded his head. "I thought you'd like it." He was glad that the holosuite on board Voyager he had programmed for their anniversary had been to her liking.      "I do," she replied quickly just as her purple sun dress flayed gently from the onset of a savory wind.     "Yeah," he continued, relieved by her encouraging words, "I based this program on a vacation spot my family and I once took back on Earth. I loved it so much. You know, it just makes you feel so free, so...."     "Complete," she said, finishing his sentence with the one word he had been searching for.     He smiled. "Exactly." He then took her hand onto his and said, "I thought this would be a great place for us to unwind, to relax for a day."     "Ah, yes, I definitely needed something like this," she replied, referring to the tiring ordeal they had both been placed through during the past two days. B'Elanna paused for a moment, remembering the one person who had brought her safely through it. "Thank you," she said, "for coming for me. It was a brave thing to do. Extremely risky, but brave nonetheless." She couldn't help but add in the lack of caution in Paris's rescue attempt. It was always in her nature to plan everything to the last detail, unlike her boyfriend who managed to throw caution to the wind. That only went to prove the notion that opposites attract.      He nodded, almost modestly by the look of it. He never thought of it as a brave act - merely a necessary one. "I couldn't let them take you. I don't ever want to lose you, B'Elanna."     She squeezed his hand a little tighter- a subtle message that meant the feeling was mutual. "I feel the same, Tom. Always," she replied.  Suddenly, a thought she had pushed aside some time ago, resurfaced. "Actually, now that we're on this subject, how did you know I was still alive?"     He stiffened, unsure of how he should explain the feelings he felt during her absense. Somehow, he knew she'd understand. She would always understand. "Neelix told me that you and I are soulmates, destined to never be a part, held together by a special bond. It made sense because even though I thought you were dead, it didn't feel like you were. And then I heard your voice...."     "My voice?" she asked, fascinated by his explanation.     "I know this sounds crazy, but I did hear your voice. You called out my name and I just knew that you were still alive. I had to take the chance." He watched as her face mimicked the feelings that she felt because of his words.      B'Elanna did not know how to respond at first. No one had been this close to her like Paris was. No one had such a connection to her heart as he did. And because of that, she understood what he meant. "I don't think it sounds crazy," she began softly. "I think it sounds like the truth. "     He had never smiled as much as he did right then. Happiness wrapped its wings around them and promised them an everlasting joy. It was the kind of feeling that both Tom and B'Elanna had waited a long time to have.      In the midst of this euphoria, B'Elanna, her eyes wide with curiosity, asked one last question. The one that would launch them into another stage of their relationship. "Do you think we're soulmates?"     He looked at her, surprised by the inquiry, though not afraid of it, for he knew his answer. "Yes, I think we are."     B'Elanna nodded and smiled. He had given her the correct the response. "So do I," she said.      And together, they continued to walk on the beach, hand in hand, as friends, as beloveds, as soulmates.                          The End