Dark Matters_ Cloak and Dagger (Book 1) - Christie Golden [36]
Yes, here he was, Pilot Tom Paris, about to tackle the dangerous Cardassian warship. A smile touched his lips. Sure, it was make-believe, but it was fun.
"Let's do it," he said.
(What was that, Ensign?) The female voice seemed to come from very far away and it was so easy to ignore.
He took the ship into a dive...
(Ensign! What the-)
... and imagined that the Cardassian ship opened fire. Keep the nose down, that's it, wait, wait for the best shot-
Fire! Pull up, pull up-
And then he realized that he'd taken the formation too low, held the dive too long-
(Override! Override!)
From upside down in a spiraling escape run, Paris watched three friends die, one after the other. He was the only one who had had enough time to escape death. They didn't have a chance.
My fault. My fault. I was the team leader. What the hell was I doing? Oh God, oh God-
Hands seized his shoulders and dragged him away from the conn. Someone slipped into his chair and
brought the vessel-brought Voyager-back on an even keel.
Chakotay held one arm, Tuvok the other. Tom blinked sweat out of his eyes. His heart was going a kilometer a minute.
Captain Kathryn Janeway, who had so abruptly taken his seat, whirled to glare at him.
"What the hell were you doing, Ensign?" Her blue eyes flashed and her lips were thin with outrage.
Tom could only stare, not at his captain, but at the screen over her shoulder. No asteroid, no floating bits of debris that had once been the three people dearest to him in the universe. Memory came back, memory of who and where he was now. He'd just whipped Voyager around like a child's plaything while it was at full warp speed. He could have killed everyone.
Just like he killed his friends.
Tears made his vision blur. Chakotay and Tuvok had hauled him to his feet, and Janeway strode toward him until her face was mere centimeters from his.
"What were you doing, Tom?" she asked coldly.
"I... I was doing combat practice back at the Academy," Tom managed. "The one where... the accident-"
His throat closed up and refused to utter any more words. He stared helplessly at Janeway.
Janeway's face softened. "Oh," was all she said. Then, "I wish I had the luxury of confining you to quarters. I'll be frank with you. I'm not at all comfortable with the idea that my conn officer is having flashbacks."
"Captain?" It was Tuvok. Janeway raised a hand, forestalling the Vulcan's protests.
"We're all affected by the dark matter right now," she said. "The Doctor can compensate. Who's to say that the second-shift conn officer might not have worse symptoms than Mr. Paris? No, Ensign, I want you to report to sickbay and give the Doctor a full report of everything that happened up here. Unless he pronounces you utterly unfit for duty, I want you back here on the bridge. Understood?"
Tom did understand. Not just her orders, but the gift she was giving him. He wasn't sure just why she was being so, well, compassionate about this, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Understood, Captain."
Not even an hour had passed, but Naomi was bored and the mysterious intruder was all she could think about. Her mom was busy working, Neelix was-and the Doctor had told her he was far too busy to continue with her lessons.
She stepped inside the cargo bay and at once she noticed something by the moved bins. Something glittered hi the dim light. Absently she plopped Rotter down on a bin near the entrance. He fell over slowly. Her attention completely caught, Naomi didn't think to check if her little hair trap had been sprung. What were these things? She didn't recognize them at all. She had just reached to touch one of the shiny crystal spheres when the door to the cargo bay hissed open.
Even though Naomi knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she gasped