* 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 secon