Title: The Unforgotten
Author: RoseKira@aol.com or firstname.lastname@example.org
Series: VOY Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters herein owned by Paramount Studios. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Tom Paris visits the Guardian of Forever and finds that sometimes what you have is the best you could hope for.
"Guardian." Paris shifted, ignoring the cold knot in his stomach. "Move ahead
to the point at which Linnis
Paris was returned to Voyager."
"She's claustrophobic, Captain. If you don't relent, in a few days I'm going to be treating her for wounds. She'll start beating walls. I know, I've been in her position. I'm asking you as a father and the *new*
medical officer to ease the sentence. You've made your point. Don't destroy her with it."
"I'm not cruel, Paris, but everyone on this ship has to understand the
"Starfleet limits, from you? From Janeway, hell, yes, I would expect it.
She'd revel in this. But you? I know you, Chakotay, you've broken more than a few rules in the name of principle. It's what got you
here...ironically enough, in the command seat."
"She risked the ship, Paris. Her own son. Voyager is a small world, it
reverberates. She's in that brig as much for her own safety as Starfleet policy."
"The people on this ship would never hurt her. She's Kes' daughter. They helped raise her, Chakotay."
"She's also your daughter, and some of the people on this ship haven't forgotten your history."
A wry grin cracked the tense face. "Prejudices, Chakotay?"
"If I could afford them, maybe." The Indian leaned forward, brow raising. "But the Captain can't. I'm just warning you, and protecting her."
"Chakotay." Turning away, the younger man began pacing. "She deserves it, I have to admit that. You're doing the command equivalent to my paternal reaction...locking her in her room for a month. But thirty days are an eternity for an Ocampan, even a half-Ocampan. This age reversal nonsense isn't going the way we expected. Instead of aging slower than your average Ocampan, Andrew appears to be stepping the process up. He's aging at the same rate as Linnis, though he's only a fourth Ocampan. Linnis needs
every moment possible with her son...while he's still young. Locking her away is inhuman."
"You want to start a whole new discipline chapter for short-lived Ocampa offspring, Paris?" Leaning back, Chakotay rubbed his eyes. He couldn't precisely argue...he had noticed that Andrew Kim was growing at outright alarming rates. The universe's payback for crossbreeding, he supposed, though he somehow doubted Paris or Kim regretted their marriages or progeny. They were just a mess to sort through.
"I want you to forget those Starfleet pips you graced yourself with after Janeway's end and look at the situation through the eyes that led you to the Maquis."
"I'll consider your appeal, Paris."
"Yeah." Brief, bitter humor flashed. "I'm sure you will." Then, the pilot
left, heading towards the mess hall grimly.
"Andrew." Stepping in and cornering his prey, he met his grandsons eyes, ruffling the flyaway hair with one hand. "You need to sleep. I'm told it helps growing rascals stock up on energy to wreak havoc with.
Frankly, I think the entire ship...your poor father included...would be
disappointed if you didn't manage to wreak havoc."
"I miss my mother. I miss Grandma Kes." The boy spoke fiercely, head angling up. "And you expect me to sleep?"
Well, the kid had a point. "Okay, I won't claim I don't understand...but your mother very emphatically recommends a good nights sleep to anyone who'll listen, and your grandmother drug me off to bed every
single night promptly at 2100 hours, emergencies allowing. I figure its up to you, me, and your father to live up to the family tradition. You want me to drag you to bed like a child and tell Harry?"
Andrew frowned. If anyone had been more upset by his mother's brig time than he and his grandpa, it had been Dad. "I guess not. I'll go to bed. But I'm not going to sleep."
"Well, that's half the victory, so I'll settle."
"After some leola root stew, of course." Neelix bustled over, holding out a plate beseechingly. Andrew turned faintly green.
"I think that stuff makes me sick."
"Just like your mother, so unappreciative of finer alien cuisine." Shaking his head, the Talaxian stared down. "Well, you do look unwell, young Kim. You just head on off to bed, and I'll follow with your favorite dessert..."
"Neelix." Paris glanced after the departing child, then back to the resident morale officer. "Thanks, but...tell me you aren't giving that to Linnis."
"Oh, no. I've prepared the fine gagh for our lovely brig guest..." Neelix beamed, moving off. "Taking care of them both, Tom."
"Gagh?" The pilot recoiled, glancing down at his own tray. With a sigh, he pushed it aside, resting his head on the table instead. Kes, Kes, Kes...
"Tom." Harry interrupted his sleep, a hand shaking his shoulder roughly, tones annoyed. "Tom, has Andrew passed through here recently?"
Grumbling lightly, Paris sat up. "Neelix just trailed him home with ice
"Well, he's not there. I think he might've gone off into one of the jeffries tubes, trying to access the brig..." The Lieutenant swore as the red alert klaxon rang.
"Go find him." Standing, the pilot nodded, lips tightening. "I'll tell
Chakotay when I reach the bridge."
And it was a mess. Taking a swift tally of the casualties, Paris headed for the helm, barely meeting the captain's frustrated gaze. "Andrew is wandering the jeffries tubes, Chakotay, and I'm not available for
medical duty. I suggest you recall your prisoner to do what she does best."
"Paris, I don't have time to play games with you-" Chakotay stood, moving forward.
"Captain, three vessels off the port bow." Tuvok interceded smoothly, dark face barely masking his own tension. "All appear to be firing up weapons..."
"Evasive pattern omega-five." Chakotay settled on sitting back down.
"Evasive pattern omega..." Jerking back from his console in surprise, Paris spared a glance backwards and cried out as the electrical charges burst around him.
"Helm rerouted to tactical station. Course laid in." Tuvok informed them slowly, watching with only bare hesitation as his captain lunged forward, pulling the pilot from the inferno with unmuffled curses. He
glanced straight ahead, regaining his equilibrium through force. "Releasing security shield surrounding the brig. Emergency trans- porters are down. Crewman Paris, report to the bridge immediately. Captain?"
"I don't know..." Chakotay flipped the injured over, glancing around him. "Are we clear?"
"Clear." The Vulcan abandoned his own station, kneeling, looking down. The turbolift opened with a rush only moments later, and Linnis stumbled in, grasping a medical kit. Eyes absorbing the damage, she
moved forward to the crowd, reigning in her own stifled gasp.
Squaring her shoulders, the half-Ocampan ignored the captains querying gaze, instead scanning with a tricorder. Finally, hands shaking, she placed them on his chest, gripping his inform tightly. "Daddy..."
Her glare was sudden, brutal. "I can't help him." Sitting back on her heels, Linnis Paris held her father's dying body and cried.