To Tell The Truth Series 05 Turning Point Read online

  To Tell the Truth Series Part 5/8:

  Turning Point

  By melanie ( www.ocl.net/~melanie's_mind )

  Code: VOY, P, P/T, slight K/7, ALL

  Rating: PG

  Date: Story finished: January 1999. Revised (spelling mistakes/grammar corrected): December 1999

  Comments to: [email protected]

  BIG WARNING TO THOSE WHO ARE TICKED OFF BY THE ENDING: there are THREE MORE PARTS. Put your head between your knees and take deep breaths. Part 6 will appear shortly. (relatively speaking)

  Notes: As witnessed above, this is part 5 of the series. "Spirit Guide," "Parole," "Togetherness," and "Sunfire" precede this one and must be read to understand the majority of what the Heck's going on. They can be found on my page: http://www.ocl.net/~melanie's_mind (Yes, that is an underscore between Melanie’s and mind, folks) along with other stories from my bent imagination. Enjoy.

  Thanks: To the betas: Briony, Annie M., Jan K., PJ in NH, Rook, Calea, Tracey, Deb, and the other Feverites, who were unintentional recipients of a misdirected attachment but read it anyway -- polished version or not -- and sent feedback. My heartfelt thanks to all.

  Khamelon for saying, "I wish we'd found out more about the AlphaOmegans." Here's some more, though not all.

  Captain Jinx for his "Blue Horizon" (which I read just before I began serious work on this story and it seems to be reflected in the sexual aspect to a part of my effort here).

  And especially to everyone who's taken the time to send feedback and/or nag (not naming any names, Rook, Sass, Matthew) for the next part. Thanks.

  Disclaimer: The usual -- theirs, not mine, wish they were, but they're not, etc., etc., don't sue.

  Turning Point (we now officially depart from the canon timeline though this follows "Sunfire" which was post "Hope and Fear")

  "Lay her on the table," Sunbird ordered Bartoq. "T'Kara, get us out of here."

  "Aye, sir," came the call over the comm.

  As he rushed over to the bed, Sunbird felt through the vibrations of the deck plates The Vanguard begin to move.

  "Everyone, to your stations. Let Wer and Wat work."

  While the others rushed from the Sickbay and the twin male Bolians began to work on their patient, Sunbird yanked off his hood with one hand, cursing under his breath at how badly this Mission had gone.

  "We're losing her," Wer announced and Wat scrambled for a hypospray.

  Frantically, they worked on their fallen colleague, but at the end of five minutes they admitted it was a lost cause. They did. Sunbird did not. He refused to accept it. His mind searched for something they had not tried, no matter how outrageous. Suddenly he had it.

  Whether they saw the potential in his plan or it was because they were programd to obey his commands as their leader, they never questioned his bizarre orders, merely followed them. Twenty long minutes later, Sunfire's body officially was declared dead and her consciousness now resided in the ship's computer. When they silently exited the room to inform the others of this development, Sunbird stood over the corpse, expressionless.

  "I should feel something," he said to himself. "Why don't I feel anything? She's dead. I cared about her more than anyone else in my life. Why don't I feel anything?"

  Suddenly the corpse before him opened her brown eyes and turned her red haired head towards him. *Yes, why don't you feel anything?*

  *Why don't you feel anything?* a chorus of voices called from behind him.

  He whirled around to see Pardan, Souris, Bartoq, Dumar, T'Kara, and Yana standing behind him with accusatory looks on their faces. *Didn't we mean anything to you?*

  "Of course you did!" he insisted, backing away from them... and right into the arms of Wer and Wat.

  *What about us?* they asked as Tom began to back away from them. *Didn't you care about us when we died all those years ago?"

  "Yes, of course I did!"

  *And me?* the female Trill who appeared behind him next murmured. *Didn't I mean anything to you?*

  "Yes, you did, Lizei," he assured her as two impossibly long arms wrapped around him and drew him back against a pliant gender-neutral form.

  *We didn't mean anything to you,* the vaguely feminine voice said. *Nothing at all. That is why you let us all die.*

  "No, Gaylorne!" he cried, the R'taian's arms continuing to tighten around him. "I did care, but I couldn't save you. I wasn't able to save you. I tried but I couldn't do it."

  *But we were your team,* they said in unison and all moving towards him. *We were your responsibility. You were supposed to protect us from harm, but you didn't and now we're all dead and you don't care.*

  "I do care!" he choked out through his constricted lungs. "I didn't want any of you to die."

  *But you didn't save any of us!*

  "I couldn't. I tried, but things prevented me."

  *You could have if you really had wanted to.*

  "But I tried!"

  "Sunbird, wake up! Sunbird!"

  Tom came to with a jerk.

  "Are you okay?" Sunfire asked, her voice fraught with emotion.

  Blinking and scrubbing the tears from his face, he looked around him. He was lying in the fetal position on the deck next to his bed on Sunfire. Again. Since the day before the AlphaOmegans' funeral, he more or less had been living in his quarters here. His home on Voyager no longer felt like a home. Everyone on the crew treated him either as though he had some communicable disease and avoided him as much as possible or awkwardly attempted to pretend nothing had changed, that the past couple weeks had not happened. Though he knew those who fell into the latter group were attempting to be helpful, he found it was anything but. He longed for the time before they all knew about his secret past as an AlphaOmegan, as an assassin.

  Most of all he longed for B'Elanna and Harry. His path had intersected that of each of them, together and separately a few times during the past four days since the day of the funeral. B'Elanna studiously avoided eye contact with him and never spoke to him unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Harry on the other hand seemed to almost go out of his way to establish eye contact so Tom could see the anger and betrayal the younger man still felt over Tom's role in Souris' death. Tom had thought the Hell The Protectors had put him through over the years had prepared him for any other Hell he could encounter, but receiving the cold shoulder from the woman he loved and only naked hatred from the man he considered a brother was worse.

  And then there were the nightmares. Prior to The Diogenes' appearance, he had been able to control any nightmares that had threatened by directed dreaming. Now he seemed to have lost that ability and the horrible dreams had returned, worse than ever. Every night they were the same. It would start out with the respective Mission that had resulted in one of their deaths. His dearly departed colleagues would come to him as he remembered the death or deaths then all would confront him about his inability to prevent their premature ends.

  "And they're right," he muttered to himself. "It was my fault. I should have tried harder to protect them."

  "Sunbird?" Sunfire called to him. She had waited silently as he gathered himself and now she felt it was time for her to try yet again to convince him to confide his troubling dreams in her.

  Naturally, he had different ideas. Shakily, he got to his feet and shed the clothes he had slept in yet again. "How far has Voyager progressed with the repairs?"

  "There's not a lot more they can do until they get the new parts or the raw materials to create them. Sunbird, about your nightmare-"

  "I don't want to discuss it," he insisted, climbing into the shower.

  His tone indicated he would not be swayed. Sighing to herself, she cleane
d the clothes he had tossed into the refresher. She knew he would want them as soon as he emerged from the bathroom. They were all he had worn since he had removed the AlphaOmegan uniform after the funeral.

  To a degree, she could understand his refusal to wear anything other than these civvies. With the way the Voyager crew had been treating him, he no longer felt apart of them. Wearing his AlphaOmegan uniform only would have compounded the problem, bringing back memories best consigned to the past and serving as a visual reminder to the others of just how different he was from them. The blue jeans, black boots, and blue sweater with his Starfleet combadge attached was the alternative he had chosen and no one had commented. Yet.

  Tom re-emerged, freshly showered and shaved, and found his clothes waiting for him in a neat pile in the refresher. "Thanks," he mumbled.

  "Breakfast?"

  "No, I'll..." He stopped himself from saying "I'll pick up something in the Mess Hall later." After what had happened there two nights ago he doubted he wanted to subject himself to that ever again.

  Once a week it was Neelix's night off and others in the crew with a modicum of culinary skill would take over, one for each meal of the day. Two nights ago it had come Tom's turn again to do dinner. It was amazing how many of the crew suddenly decided to skip dinner when they heard or saw who was cooking. The few who had eaten there either were falling all over themselves to be gracious to the pilot cum cook or became incapable of speech. Tom had soldiered on through dishing out the meal then promptly removed

  his name from the Neelix-relief rotation the moment the last dinner had been served.

  "How about a cup of Zalian breakfast drink? You always enjoyed that." Through the tap she maintained into Voyager's systems, Sunfire knew what had transpired in the Mess Hall and was giving him a chance to avoid a repeat of that embarrassment.

  "Thank you."

  As he finished dressing and the large mug of purplish liquid appeared in the replicator slot, she broached another subject. "Sunbird?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Do you honestly think they can succeed? Use the plans for altering Voyager and create their own Gopher Hole?"

  "Alter Voyager, yes. Open the Gopher Hole? I don't know," he sighed, going to the replicator for his breakfast. "They're very creative and intelligent. Probably they can do it with the info you gave them about the Gopher Hole."

  "Then what?"

  Knowing she was asking more than what the next step was in readying Voyager for the possible trip home, he stalled by draining his mug. A minute later, he slowly set the empty mug back in the slot as he took a deep breath then told her his plans for the future.

  -------

  "Please stop flinching, Mr. Neelix" the EMH complained to his patient, "or I'll end up fusing your eyelids shut. Lieutenant, how did he do this anyway?"

  Joe Carey sighed. This was the seventh time someone had asked him to explain Neelix's minor burns to the face and the half-cooked pancake batter sticking to his hair and whiskers and he was getting tired of it. "He was trying to make pancakes. I remarked I remembered my father being an expert at flipping pancakes. He asked me what that was so I told him."

  "And let me guess, his trajectory was a bit off and he was looking up at the pancake when it came down and hit him."

  "Exactly."

  The Doctor shook his head. "Even breakfast on Voyager is an adventure."

  The Sickbay doors opened and Tom Paris entered.

  "Ah, Mr. Paris, right on time for a change."

  Joe's eyes darted to the young man then back to Neelix. "Well, if you're sure Neelix is going to be okay, I have to get to Engineering. Lieutenant Torres has quite the list of things for us to accomplish today."

  Engineering's second-in-command hurried out of Sickbay without another word or acknowledging the medical assistant. Used to the reaction by now, Tom ignored it and stopped at the biobed of Sickbay's only other patient to check her vitals.

  "Just the 'flu?" Tom whispered so as not to disturb Naomi.

  "Yes, a mild strain of the Halatin 'flu. Nothing to worry about. It's almost entirely out of her system. I plan to release her to her own quarters in a few hours."

  Tom nodded and approached Neelix's biobed. "Are you all right, Neelix?"

  "Uh, yes," the newly healed cook answered in a shadow of his usually outgoing tone. "Doctor, may I go? I have to shower then prepare for lunch."

  "Of course," the hologram agreed. "And if you try flipping anything, might I suggest you let someone else try and catch it."

  "Sure, Doctor. Excuse me."

  When they were alone, the EMH regarded his assistant. "Well, Mr. Paris, it seems you have acquired quite the skill at clearing a room."

  "You've noticed," Tom muttered, clearing away the instruments the Doctor had used in treating Neelix. "What do you want me to do today?"

  "I have an experiment I'd like you to oversee. It's all set up in the lab."

  -------

  "Joe! Hey, Joe, wait up!"

  Joe slowed his pace so the almost eight months pregnant Crewwoman LaKeysha Walesan could catch up.

  "What's with the rush?" she asked, panting slightly.

  "I need to get to Engineering."

  "I thought you were off this shift."

  "I was, but Lieutenant Torres-"

  She held up a palm. "There's no need to continue," she sighed. "She's certainly been burying herself and everyone else in quite the heavy workload lately."

  "She's having a hard time with this. Frankly, all of us are." He shook his head. "So many lies and false hopes."

  "So you don't think we can open this Gopher Hole ourselves?"

  "I don't know. I mean, I know all the simulations and calculations we've done from the information Sunfire's given us say it *is* possible, I still can't help thinking 'what if they aren't telling us everything'?"

  "By 'they' you mean Lieutenant Paris and Sunfire."

  "Yes. The sims come out okay so obviously there's no actual evidence they *have* left something vital out, but I can't help wondering what they have to gain by helping us get home?"

  "They help us get home," she stressed.

  "Yes, but what do they get out of it? If what he claims is true, The Protectors will kill him the moment he pokes his nose into the Alpha Quadrant. It makes more sense for him to stay here."

  "So you think he's somehow trying to sabotage us so he doesn't have to go home? I don't buy it. Not Tom Paris. He's been as focused on getting this crew home as anybody."

  "Tom Paris, yes." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and back towards Sickbay. "This guy, I don't know."

  Carey's combadge chirped and Vorik called him to a minor crisis in Engineering.

  -------

  Having blatantly been eavesdropping as she and her twin strode down the corridor a few meters behind Joe and LaKeysha, Jenny now elbowed her sister in the side. "See? Even Joe Carey agrees with everyone. You're so lucky you wised up and stopped defending Paris."

  Fighting back her rising emotions, Megan bit out a retort through clenched teeth. "Just leave it alone, Jenny."

  Naturally, she did not. "I kept telling everyone you'd snap out of it. 'It's denial,' I told them. 'Sooner or later she'll accept what's happened and see him for what he really is.'"

  "I said leave it alone!" she yelled then ran off in the opposite direction, in tears.

  Sighing, Jenny shook her head yet did not follow. She knew when her twin got this upset; she did not want company, not even her sister. "She's gone from denial to anger," Jenny murmured. "Just one short step to acceptance."

  With that prediction hanging in the air, she wandered off to see if her latest conquest was interested in playing hooky with her for a few minutes alone somewhere.

  -------

  "Doctor?"

  Not looking up from his tricorder readings, the EMH acknowledged Ensign Wildman. "Ensign, are you hurt as well?"

  "No." She looked around at the half dozen injured crewmembers who had been working in the la
b prior to the explosion of the beaker. "I was in the turbolift when I heard there was an accident so I came straight here to help if needed. I didn't expect to see you. I thought you were with Naomi in Sickbay."

  "I was when I had to come here."

  "You left Naomi alone?"

  "No, Mr. Paris is-"

  Sam's audible intake of breath caught everyone's attention including the Doctor's. He rose from his patient and looked at her.

  "Is there a problem, Ensign?"

  "A problem?" she squeaked. "No, no, of course not. You seem to have things well in hand here. I think I'll go see how Naomi is."

  As she practically ran from the room, he attempted to explain his assistant was there running some tests he could not leave so he had come in his place. The shutting of the lab doors cut him off in mid-sentence. Shaking his head, he turned back to the others and saw everyone was staring at him in varying degrees of disapproval.

  "What?"

  -------

  Captain Kathryn Janeway was on a mission and it was one she did not relish. Less than an hour ago, she had been in the Mess Hall and had overheard a conversation that had worried her. Her having gone straight to her First Officer's office for confirmation had only made things worse.

  "You heard right, Kathryn," Chakotay had told her from his seat at his desk. "I would have said 'except Megan Delaney,' but after what I heard about yesterday, apparently even she's staying away from him."

  "But for the entire crew to refuse to go to Sickbay as long as Tom's there." She had shaken her head. "If there's an emergency, they'll have no choice but to take whomever they get."

  "It's not exactly that they're refusing to go there; it's just they'd feel much more comfortable if he was not the one treating them."

  "But he's the Medical Assistant. He's the only one with enough training to perform surgery if necessary. Simple surgeries at least."

  "You have to understand, Kathryn. The crew is scared of him. They don't know what to expect anymore. Resentment towards him and the AlphaOmegans is prevalent. Finding out about his past has everyone worried."

  "Why?"

  "Quite honestly it's because they're scared he'll go over the edge again and hurt or even kill someone when he's supposed to be curing them."