Title : Down Deep
Author : Elli- archivist@ParisNights.de
Series :Voyager 
Codes : Voy,  C/P 
Rating : PG-13 
Story: 2/? 
Archive: atps, TPD. All others, ask first. 
Summary:See part One... 

Note: This story was inspired by In His Mind's Eye and Sweet Dreams by Margaret Berger. 

Dedicated to Jeanette. 

Down Deep 

A screaming light penetrated all senses. Her eyes saw everything. Almost.
But what was in her sight would remain in her memory forever. Like a horde they crashed down on him. There was no chance for escape. *Where is it. Where is the information?* someone screamed as the aggressors beat up the man on the ground. He didn't defend himself. Just let it be. Blow after blow landed. He couldn't move, couldn't fight. Too much. Way too much. They left, without the information, leaving him on the ground, bleeding, broken, dead. Almost. She was the only witness. The only one who could testify. Forever.

Sandrines was buzzing with activity. Chakotay was not there that night. There was no need to catch Tom anymore. The matter was closed. He'd just have to live with it. One way or another. 

Harry Kim sipped at his drink silently. He wondered why Josh Marcs had challenged Tom to a game of pool. Marcs was a bad player, probably the worst on the ship, and it was no secret that the Ensign disliked Tom Paris. 

He was loosing. Badly. Tom was just a better player than Josh. 
Harry rubbed his tired eyes. He'd have the first shift tomorrow, so he left, deciding he would grill Tom about what was bothering him 
next morning.  

You're cheating," Marcs accused Tom suddenly. 

"What?" Tom asked startled. Marcs accusation had been totally out of the blue. "I play absolutely fair," Tom defended himself. He 
really hated this. He didn't want a fight. He was not in the mood. 

Harry groaned. Tom was right. He had played absolutely fair. He hadn't even been half as good as he normally was. Thinking about 
it, Harry had to admit that Tom probably had never played this bad before. He himself could have beaten the pilot easily. Tom had 
not played a solid game in almost two weeks. 

Again Harry reminded himself to talk to Tom, although his friend would most likely not be talking. 

Again Harry thought of going to bed, but the glare in Marcs eyes stopped him.  The maquis had let Tom win just to have a reason to start a fight, Harry realized. 

But why? 

"Harry," Dalby called from the bar, asking the ensign for some help. 
"What is it?" he asked, trying to keep an eye on Tom and Marcs. 

"I have some questions about the ops report," Dalby diverted the ensigns attention back to him. 

While Dalby had been distracting Harry, Marcs had followed Paris out of the holodeck. 

"You're a fuckin' liar," Marcs said. "Janeway should have left you to rot in prison."  Tom's back stiffened. He turned to face Marcs. Trying to give nothing away. 

Back in prison... 

"I will give you just one warning. Stay away from the Commander. Or you'll regret it." 

Did I slip? 

"What I do is none of your business," Tom said. "You threaten me, and I'll make sure that Elara Prime will not remain a secret."