Seven days ago we came across the ‘Myon’s’. A humanoid species, that greeted us with open arms, all four of them. Their solar system isn’t much larger than Earth’s but it has two suns, 20 planets and 60 moons, ranging from life less balls of rock to small m class satellites.

The Myon’s being the only natives, colonised the whole system peacefully several century’s ago. They have warp technology but rarely use it. With so many habitable planets and no foes the Myon’s didn’t feel a need to venture beyond their own space. Others have visited the Myon’s but the Electro Magnetic storms that roam their region of space and especially the Myon solar system, usually keep them away.

These 'power storms' as the Myon’s call them, can literally suck the power out of anything they come in contact with. Over the years the Myon’s have developed shields to protect their ships and smaller vulnerable planets. But although they welcome visitors they keep their shield technology a guarded secret. You could say it’s their ‘Prime Directive.

It’s also how they protect themselves from hostile forces. Seven said the Borg had passed over the Myon colonies three hundred years ago, deeming it not worth assimilating. In her own defence she also said that, even the Borg could get it wrong sometimes.

I decided not to risk Voyager by taking her too close. Instead we’ve been slowly circumnavigating the planets along their systems fringe. While the crew use the shuttles to journey between ship and planets. We have also taken on many much needed supplies allowing the crew to get some quality R and R.

I myself am on the Delta Flyer, on my way to a midnight wedding. The ceremony is to take place on a planet the crew have dubbed Ice Luna Three, after its 3 icy moons.

“Almost there Captain,” Harry Kim called, from the Delta Flyers pilot seat.

Closing her log Janeway went to stand behind ensign Kim. This whole planet is a nature reserve,” Janeway informed the Delta’s small crew. “Apart from the shuttle dock and an area where they hold the weddings.”

“Why?” Asked Seven of Nine from her seat at the Delta’s communication station.

Without turning her head, Janeway replied, “Ambassador Albion mentioned something about a hundred year old political decree, that stated one planet in five must be preserved for wildlife and nature, so as too maintain the eco-system of the Myon Empire.”

“An interesting policy,” commented Seven, in return.

“It’s not unlike the 'green belts' and nature reserves of the late 20th century back on earth.” Continued Janeway as the nose of the Delta Flyer cut through the planets cloud cover and allowed them a clear view out of the forward window. Only the Olympic stadium size shuttle port that stood proud atop a great strutting plateau marred the lush green planet below them.

Powered by the roofs solar panels the gleaming shuttle port stood 3 story’s high. Ships and shuttles could be seen taking off and landing on her many docking arrays. As the Delta Flyer moved closer Janeway could make out people mingling on the scenic roof top balcony. Set against a backdrop of double setting suns it was quite a sight.

“Wow!” exclaimed Harry Kim.

“Wow! Indeed,” concurred Janeway.

“In coming message from the shuttle port,” said Seven, un-mesmerised by the spectacle before them, “Voice only.”

“Federation shuttle, designation, Delta Flyer you are cleared to land at docking pylon Gamma nine. Have a safe landing port control out.”

“Looks like we’re on the top deck then,” said Harry slowing down to read the alien numbers around the spaceport.

Suddenly the Flyers emergency warning lights blinked and bleeped like crazy. “Collision imminent adjust course now. Collision..,” The on board computer was cut off short as Harry Kim banked away right just missing the speeding craft coming up on the Flyer’s port side.

“What happened?” asked Janeway, while picking herself up from the floor.

“Some one in a hurry I guess,” said Harry, putting the Delta Flyer back on course for the docking rings. “I believe Ensign,” said Seven, “The problem is your flying.”

“Hey!” said Harry Kim in response, “I never claimed to be as good as Tom.”

“That’s not what I meant, Look,” Seven pointed out of the forward window at the other shuttlecraft. “They are all flying anti-clockwise around the dock. You attempted to fly clockwise.”

“She’s right Harry,” said Janeway, “take us in again, but this time go starboard on your approach.”

Kim manoeuvred the Flyer into the traffic flow and followed around the space docks exterior until he found docking pylon gamma nine. Ducking out of the traffic flow wasn’t as difficult, and Kim soon brought the Delta Flyer into a smooth landing.

“Do you know where you are going Captain?” asked Seven, with a little concern in her voice.

“Ambassador Albion gave me directions,” answered Janeway, retrieving the gift she had replicated on Voyager, form one of the lockers.

“I’m kind of sorry we can’t stick around now,” said Kim.

“Where are you going again?” Janeway asked.

“Myon six,” Harry replied, “they need some help with a small mining problem.”

“Huh!” Seven said, “I don’t call mining a fault line a small problem.”

“They just need a little help readjusting their tectonic plate stabilizers.”

“And you can help with that?” Janeway asked, surprised that Harry Kim had another hidden talent.

“I did a thesis on something similar as part of my qualification into Starfleet. I think I can tweak their systems into gear.”

“Well good luck,” Janeway patted Harry on the shoulder then moved towards the exist.

“Have a nice evening Captain,” said Seven over her shoulder.

“Thank you Seven I will,” replied Janeway taken aback a little by Sevens gesture, but remembering the doctors lessons in social interactions, made a mental note to congratulate him when she returned.


Three hours later back on Voyager and down in the depths of shuttle bay 2, Torres and Carey were doing maintenance on a shuttle together. Torres tut-ted loudly and shook her head as she pulled it free from an access panel.

“This feed coupling shouldn’t have burnt out so quickly,” groaned Belanna, “we only replaced them in this shuttle six months ago.”

“Are you sure,” asked Carey?"

“Check the records if you want, but I know my engines and this one shouldn’t be in this state.”

“This is the third shuttle today with power overload problems,” informed Carey handing Torres a tool.

“Paris would probably say it was gremlins,” chuckled Torres.

“I’m picking up some residual electro magnetic particles,” said Carey running a tricorder over the parts Torres had just removed from the shuttles guts. “Do you think these power storms could be causing the shuttles to malfunction?”

“I don’t see how, these are overloads, not power drains. And anyway the Captain’s orders were to stay well clear of them.”

“I know they were, you know they were, but you and I also know what some of these ‘hot shot’ pilots are like.”

“Better than anyone,” said Torres with a deep sigh.

On the other side of the docking bay lights flashed and sirens blared as the bays outer doors opened to allow a returning shuttle to enter. Force fields kept Torres and Carey safe as it glided into land. As the outer doors closed the sirens ceased, but the lights kept flashing until the atmosphere had been equalled and the force field dropped. After a few minuets the shuttles hatch popped open and the notes of an old tune being whistled came floating out and crossed the docking bay.

From her position beneath the craft she was working on, Torres could see a pair of feet alight the new shuttle, then legs. The legs walked away, stopped, turned and then headed back towards her. The whistling became loader, as they got closer.

“Speak of the devil,” Torres said to Carey, crawling from under the shuttle and standing to block the legs progress. “Where have you been? You were supposed to meet me three hours ago.”

Tom Paris stopped whistling and pulled an, 'I can explain face'. “I was talking to minister Cass, and lost track of time.”

“For three hours?” questioned Torres.

“I also ran into one of those power storms on the way back, had to make a de-tour.”

“It must have been a big De-tour,” humped Torres, crossing her arms defiantly.

“It was actually,” replied Paris matching her pose. “But who rattled your cage this morning.”

“You did, your so unreliable,” Torres was quickly loosing her temper. Minister Cass was a distractingly beautiful young lady and Paris had just spent a very long afternoon with her.

“I’m unreliable,” fumed Paris, “I’ve lost count of the number of dates you’ve missed because you were busy down in engineering. I don’t know why you don’t just put your bed up in a corner down there, it would save time on trips too and from your quarters.”

“As chief engineer I have responsibilities that I can’t just walk off on.”

“Oh I see responsibilities a lowly ensign like me wouldn’t understand is that it?” Paris moved his hands to his hips and Carey ducked behind the shuttlecraft out of sight for safety.

“That’s not what I said, you’re twisting my words again.”

“Try saying what you mean then.”

“I give up.” Belanna Torres threw her arms in the air, “I don’t know why I bother some days.”

“Then don’t!” yelled Paris, turning around and walking away.

“Where are you going?” Torres yelled after him.

“The bridge, I’m late for duty.”

“Ok, walk away, just like you usually do, just don’t come slinking back to me later, when you need a favour.”

“Good bye Belanna,” Paris called over his shoulder.

Paris entered Voyagers bridge to find it ticking away quietly without him.

“Mr Paris you have made it back at last,” said Chakotay from his command chair.

“Aye sir,” replied Paris, wondering how Chakotay knew it was him without turning around.

“Any luck?” asked Chakotay as Paris came in to view.

“No, I tried every charm in the book, nothing worked. Minister Cass wouldn’t even admit she knew anything about their shield technology never mind a suggestion that she might be willing to give it up.”

“As tight lipped as the rest of them,” sighed Chakotay, raising to his feet, “So far we have tried, trading, borrowing, begging and charming. The only thing left is to marry you off to the high chiefs daughter in exchange for the information.”

Paris laughed, “I think you might get some opposition from Belanna on that one.”

“Commander,” ensign summers called from op’s, “message from ensign Kim, he says he has been delayed and will not be able to pick up the Captain from Luna 3 as scheduled. Can we send someone to fetch her?”

“Thank you ensign,” acknowledged Chakotay, before turning his attention back to Paris, “Mr Paris you don’t appear to be doing anything.”

“But I was……” Paris looked longingly to his seat at con, currently occupied by lieutenant Grimes.

“It won’t take you long,” smiled Chakotay.

“Aye sir,” said Paris, taking one last look at Voyagers pilot seat before leaving the bridge.

As he rode the turbo lift back to the shuttle bay, Paris prayed silently that Belanna had gone, but his preys weren’t answered and he ran right back into her.

“So you have come crawling back already have you,” Belanna Torres gloated.

“No I’ve been sent out on an errand of mercy.”

“What are you talking about now Paris?” Torres asked as he strode across the docking bay to the shuttle he had only thirty minuets ago landed in.

“Harry’s been delayed. Chakotay asked me to pick up the Captain,” replied Paris not bothering to turn or stop as he spoke.

“You can’t take that shuttle,” Torres called after Paris “I need to run some checks on it.”

“Belanna, I’ve been flying this shuttle all day, there’s nothing wrong with her,” said Paris, again without turning around, “and anyway I haven’t got time to prep another one.”

“Ok hotshot, just stay clear of those power storms,” Torres yelled across the docking bay after Paris as he ducked into the shuttle. “Did you hear me Thomas Eugene Paris?”

Thomas Eugene Paris didn’t hear, he was whistling again.


The wedding had been wonderful, the food superb, the dancing exhilarating and the evening relaxing. Now six hours later Janeway was back at the shuttle port watching as the happy couple, then the guests left for their homes. An hour on she was still there.

While Janeway waited for the extremely tardy Harry Kim another wedding party arrived. The bustling throng alighted their shuttles and spread out, forcing Janeway backwards. Tripping slightly she found herself out on the deserted balcony that ran partly around the spaceport, overlooking the valley below. The only illumination outside was from the three moons. As bright as they appeared to be the light was dim and Janeway didn’t see the ambassador further along. Mesmerised by the moon light and cooled by the night breeze Janeway walked to the balcony’s edge and gazed out then up, off into space.

A familiar voice came out of the shadows behind Janeway, “All on your own Captain?”

Slightly startled Janeway turned sharply to see ambassador Albion emerge from the semi darkness. The same ambassador that had invited her to the wedding of his cousins, niece and then spent the whole event trying to seduce her. Janeway had been very polite in spurning his advances and very successful while surrounded by other party guests. But now alone she felt venerable and a little intimidated.

“My ride will be along shortly,” said Janeway as confidently as possible. She wanted to retreat to the confines of the spaceport but found the ambassador advancing on her position.

“This is a most beautiful sight, one off the best in the whole solar system, and yet so few take the time to stop and look,” said Albion smiling charmingly.

“So I’ve noticed,” said Janeway indicating the empty balcony.

“But you are a women who likes fine things and can appreciate this,” the ambassador gestured wildly and approached the railing next to Janeway.” My own daughter will marry soon, may be if your ship is still around I could invite you as my guest?”

“That won’t be possible I’m afraid,” said Janeway moving one step away from Albion. Who immediately took two steps closer. “As you know my ship and I have a long journey ahead and must leave any day.”

“But not straight away, we could rendezvous on say ‘Pandosa’ for a quiet dinner together before you leave.” As he spoke Albion moved closer, circling two arms around Janeway’s back, then lowering one casually.

Paris walked out onto the shuttle ports balcony just in time to see ambassador Albion drop his second hand and rest it on Captain Janeway's buttock. A move that made Janeway stiffen defensively. Paris knew his Captain could take care of herself, but coughed and announced his presence anyway. “Captain.”

Ambassador Albion jumped and moved backwards rather quickly. Janeway turned around to see Paris standing feet apart, one hand resting on his phaser. Realising he had seen what the ambassador was up too, she stood to attention and addressed Paris. “Lieutenant where is Mr Kim? He was supposed to pick me up an hour ago.”

Walking towards Janeway Paris replied nonchalantly, “He got held up, Chakotay sent me to fetch you.”

“We’ll I’m ready,” said Janeway, turning back to the purple faced, obviously embarrassed ambassador, “Goodbye ambassador Albion give my regards to your sick wife.”

Albion flustered and muttered a goodbye in return but Janeway was already crossing the balcony to join Paris. Who behind her back gave the ambassador a dirty look before ducking through the doorway after his captain.

“Mr Paris you have the knack of turning up just at the right time,” said Janeway.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” smiled Paris, before asking, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

Janeway laughed, “No Tom, compared to the Cardassions and the Borg he was a pussycat.”

“Cats have claws,” reminded Paris.

“True, but if you hadn’t come along I would have had this one neutered before he could say your place or mine.” Reaching across Janeway pulled Paris up short. “Don’t tell Chakotay about this little…incident.”

“You don’t think he should know?” questioned Paris.

“No I don’t, he’ll just blow it all up out of proportion and nag me about it every time I leave Voyager on my own.”

“You know, technically your not supposed to do that.”

“I know, but occasionally even I need to get away by myself.”

“I can relate to that,” commented Paris as he resumed walking across to the shuttles.

“Trouble in paradise?” asked Janeway catching up with Paris.

“Belanna and I argued earlier,” explained Paris.

“Ah! What about this time?” asked Janeway concerned that her two favourite star crossed lovers were fighting yet again.

Paris shrugged, “I’m not sure, about nothing really.”

“That’s one of the reasons I don’t want Chakotay to find out what happened with the ambassador.”

“He would give you a hard time wouldn’t he,” said Paris, sympathetically.

“Yep.”

“Ok,” Paris agreed stepping up to Voyagers shuttle. “Your secrets safe with me.”

“Thanks Tom I’ll return the favour someday.”

Paris grinned, opened the shuttles hatch and gestured for Janeway to go first.


“Shuttle Orion to Voyager.”

“Voyager here.”

“Commander we are experiencing….problems.”

“What kind of problems lieutenant?”

“Power fluctuations…..every……life support, …engines…..communica……going off…….”

“What happened, Summers get them back."

Lieutenant Summers was at Harry Kim’s ops post. “I’m trying I can’t find them, not even on sensors, and their iron trail just vanished.”

“They were there a moment ago lieutenant,” Chakotay rose from his seat and joined Summers at operations, “Iron trails may vanish but shuttles don’t.”

“Maybe they exploded or crashed,” commented Lieutenant Grimes from con.

“Stow that line of thought,” barked Chakotay, “We’ve got ten crew on that shuttle and until I see debris they are still in one piece. Summer’s anyone near them that can take a look.”

“I think the…..”

“Commander.” Called Tuvox interrupting the Lieutenant. “I have been monitoring a large local power storm for the last 45 minuets, until 3 point 2 minuets ago it was running parallel with us.”

“And now?” asked Chakotay.

“Now it is heading straight for our position.”

“How long?”

“Approximately seven minuets. After that we will be completely surrounded and cut off for at least fifteen hours.”

“Can we out run it?”

“Negative commander, it is too big and gathering speed as we speak.” Replied Tuvox, “If we go to warp this close to the electro magnetic effects it could damage Voyagers Dilithium matrix irreparably.”

“Pull us back lieutenant Grimes,” ordered Chakotay, “Our only chance is too let it out run us.”

“But we will be cut off from our shuttles,” said a worried Summers from beside Chakotay.

“How many shuttles do we have out there?"

“Six and the delta Flyer Sir,” reported Summers. “But we also have 26 crew on various planets.”

“Let as many of them as possible know our situation lieutenant, tell them to lay up until were clear.” Chakotay left Summers at ops and made his way back down the bridge, but before he could resume his command seat, Summers hailed him again.

“I’ve picked up a distress call from the Orion…..she’s running on emergency power, the Cochrane just joined up with them.”

“Can you get a message back to them?" Chakotay asked.

“I’m sending but there’s no acknowledgement. In fact only 2 of our shuttles and the Delta Flyer have responded.”

“Was the captains shuttle one of them?”

“N… No sir,” replied Summers shakily.

“Should we not ask the Myon's for assistance sir?” asked Tuvox.

“I’ll take care of that,” responded Chakotay, but before he could the turbo lift doors opened and a rather hot Belanna Torres, bounded out onto the bridge.

“Chakotay the captain and Tom are in danger.

” “Don’t worry, Paris is bright,” said Chakotay trying to calm Belanna down. “He’ll figure things out, put down and wait this out.”

Un-calmed Belanna ran down the bridge steps and drew up in front of Chakotay. “You don’t understand. I’ve just spent the last six hours checking out the returning shuttles, all of them had overloaded and burnt out power relays. Tom went back out before I could check the ‘Drake’. If he’s having the same problems as the Orion, they could be in serious trouble, for that matter so could all our shuttles.”

“Do you know what’s causing these malfunctions?” asked Chakotay suddenly more concerned.

“I think so, I’ve been running some diagnostics and I believe the storms are having a cumulative effect on our shuttles. The shields are protecting them some, but the strain on the weaker systems is causing them to compensate and subsequently overload.”

Chakotay rubbed his tattooed temple, “The Orion has been to the heavier storm flow areas.”

“So has the Drake,” said Belanna, “Tom told me himself he had to detour around a big power storm on his way back to Voyager earlier.”

Chakotay began pacing Voyagers bridge and Belanna looked to Tuvox for help.

“Why did you not report these shuttle failures earlier?” Tuvox asked unhelpfully.

“They were only minor and I wasn’t sure until now the storms were to blame. Our shuttles have been working overtime of late.” Belanna tried to defend herself as Chakotay came back to stand in front of her.

“Ok anyway we can help our shuttles from here?” He asked.

“Their only option is to shut down everything except minimal life support, reduce the risk of an overload.” “Summers, include that information in your message.”

“Yes sir…….message coming in sir……it’s from the Delta Flyer.”

“Commander this is Seven, we are on route to assist the Orion.”


“I’ll have to take us the long way around back to Voyager,” explained Paris to Janeway. “Several of those Myon power storms have converged into a large one and blocked us in.”

“That’s ok, I’m in no rush to get back,” Janeway stretched out in her seat.

“If we take enough time about it Belanna may have cooled of and gone to sleep before we get back,” Paris said hopefully.

“Coward,” Janeway chided.

“I call it self preservation.”

“You know I once argued with Mark one morning before he left for work. After spending all day muttering bad things about him under my breath, I decided to make a special meal with all the trimmings and apologise.”

“Did it work?” asked Paris.

“No he came home five hours late hoping I had gone to bed, so he could avoid me. I stayed up till he came home and chewed his head off. In the end he had to apologise to me.”

Paris laughed. “I shouldn’t laugh I’m probably in for the same treatment when I get back.”

“With Belanna!” said Janeway, raising her eyebrows, “Worse!”

“That’s odd,” said Paris.

“What?”

“Our long range sensors just went dead. I’d left them on, tracking the power storms.”

“Better run a systems check,” ordered Janeway, accessing the controls in front of her. “Shield, ok, life support, ok….Oh oh, here we go. I’m running a red light on the plasma injectors and another on the transporters power grid.”

“I’ve got a starboard thrusters out,” added Paris, “and the inertial dampeners are fluctuating.”

“I thought that was just something I ate,” quipped Janeway.

“I don’t like this,” Paris said with worry in his voice, “now I’m reading a temperature rise in the warp core.”

“I’d better call home,” said Janeway manipulating the shuttles communications. “Janeway to Voyager,” getting no response Janeway called again, “this is the USS Drake to Voyager….Chakotay …..anyone.”

The communications panel in front of Janeway suddenly hissed back deafening static then fizzed. Paris reached over from his seat and pushed Janeway back into hers just as the console spat sparks.

“In the nick of time again Mr Paris,” Janeway said but the joke didn’t lighten their mood neither did the multiplying bleeps and flashing lights that signalled more malfunctions.

“Warp core temperature is rising,” informed Paris.

“I’ll try to compensate,” replied Janeway, playing her hands over the flashing console, re-routing power to the warp core cooling systems.

“Communications are completely fried and were out of range for our combadges, should I find us a place to land,” suggested Paris.

“Any chance of getting back to the shuttle port,” asked Janeway.

“Too far,” explained Paris, “Our remaining sensors don’t show much, several large asteroids, 2 moons and an ice planet. Nothing that looks habitable from here.”

“I’ve stabilised the warp core, but were going to have to land, another plasma rely just blew.” Janeway's face now showed deep worry lines.

“Our shields are losing containment, look,” Paris pointed to his display and Janeway's eyes followed his finger. “Not good, get us down Tom, anywhere you can.”

“You might regret that order,” warned Paris, “I’ve not got much to choose from.”

Janeway didn’t respond as Paris set about changing course, instead she tapped her combadge, “This is captain Janeway to anyone, we are in trouble can you assist?”

The Drake started to judder, “I’ve lost the stabilisers,” said Paris, his voice rattling along with the shuttle. Behind him a conduit ruptured and vapours billowed out into the shuttles cabin.

Janeway coughed, “Tom!”

“I know, I’ve got a fix on an m-class moon, starboard side.”

Janeway glanced out of the shuttles view port, “I see it but I don’t like it.” The moon gleamed white and looked inhospitable from space. Janeway hoped it would show more promise, as they got closer.

“Hobson’s choice, I’m afraid,” reminded Paris.

“Ok, just try and get us down in one piece.”

“That was the plan,” grinned Paris.

Tom Paris grin hid his fear, with systems failing through out the shuttle, landing them was going to be no walk in the park.


Seven and Harry received the message from Voyager warning them of the cumulative effects of the power storms with concern. Concern because at the same time they were picking up distress messages from Voyagers smaller shuttles. In a brief communiqué with Chakotay before they were cut off, Seven was able to ascertain how many shuttles were involved and inform him that so far the Delta Flyer was trouble free. Which was likely due to the Borg multi-phasic shielding she sported. Shielding Seven and her small team were about to test out.

“We are coming up on the Locota now,” informed Harry Kim from the Delta’s pilot seat, “She’s snagged up in the edge of a storm band.”

“What’s her stasis?” Seven asked lieutenant Wildman.

“Dead and dying, her emergency generator is threatening to give up.”

Seven crossed the Delta’s small bridge to stand behind Wildman, “Any life signs?”

“Six maybe seven, they are faint and it’s difficult to get an accurate reading through the magnetic interference. If it wasn’t for the Flyer’s enhanced systems we would get nothing.”

“We won’t be able to beam them out if we can’t get a lock on them,” commented Harry Kim.

“We could use the tractor beam pull them clear of the storm,” suggested Wildman.

“One plan but not sound, the tractor beam could act as a rely between the storm and us.” Said Seven.

“Like putting your finger in an ODN socket,” chuckled Harry.

“That is also something I would not recommend.” Said Seven moving up behind Harry Kim. “The Delta Flyer hasn’t been effected by the power storms and yet she’s been out among them for just as long as Voyager’s smaller shuttles, suggesting like I informed Commander Chakotay, that her shields offer some protection against them.”

“You have a plan B don’t you Seven.”

“I do Mr Kim, and your going to put your new piloting skills to the test along with the Delta’s shields carrying it out.”


Peaks of frozen tundra loomed up from the moons surface, threatening to snag the Drake and rip it apart. Paris twisted the blighted craft and pulled power from her bowls to raise them over another crest of dense timber hills. Timber and hills that were white with snow and ice. The whole moon beneath them was a frozen wilderness.

“There look,” Janeway called.

Paris looked ahead of them, the land flattened out and the trees disappeared, leaving a carpet of white velvet fields. “Hang on,” Paris shouted before cutting back the shuttles thrusters, slowing them down and dropping altitude at the same time.

“This is going to be bumpy, isn’t it?” asked Janeway rhetorically.

Paris smiled as the shuttles under carriage made contact with the ground and bounced back up, before hitting again. It was at this point Paris wished he had a safety harness, especially with the inertial dampeners off line and especially as his head had just been rammed into the console in front of him, before snapping back again. Beside Paris, Janeway faired no better; she had resorted to the foetal position. Nether the less venerable parts still went unprotected. At one point Janeway screamed but she couldn’t hear herself over the screeching sound the shuttle made as it tore up the ground underneath them.

Paris yelled something about breaking thrusters and the screeching turned into a high-pitched squeal. Janeway put her fingers in her ears and looked across at Paris. He had his eyes closed tight, his hands over his ears and his feet braced against the console in front of him. Janeway turned her attention to the front view port; they appeared to be gliding over a frozen lake heading for the raised embankment of the other side. The shuttle was slowing down but from Paris crash landing position it obviously wasn’t going to be enough.

Running through all possibilities Janeway scanned the console in front of her. One display showed how much super heated plasma, was being created by the warp core, removing a finger from her left ear Janeway keyed in a command to release the plasma but only from the left nacelle.

The jet force of the plasma release sent the shuttle into a spin, the spin added to the decrease in speed. It also added to the noise factor so Janeway quickly placed her finger back in her ear and returned to her foetal position. After what seemed like an eternity the Drake came to a stop with one last jolt.


The ‘Locota’ was a type 8 shuttle craft, with a flat rear access door, the very same door Harry Kim was slowly edging the nose of the Delta Flyer towards.

Sevens plan was to nudge physically with the flyer, the marooned Locota away from the storms effects. So they could get a clear lock on too its crew.

Plan B so far was working except that once inside the storms shadow the Delta Flyer’s communications and sensors went off line leaving Kim to pilot by feel, instinct and what he could make out beyond the forward view port. For once he was glad Tom Paris had made it so large, enabling him to get a good view of the Locota’s rear end.

Inside the Locota six-scared stiff crew were sitting in the semi darkness, singing academy prep songs, trying to keep their spirits up. They had seen the Delta Flyer through the shuttles view ports but without communications the crew had no idea how she was going to help them. No idea until a thunderous boom vibrated through her hull and the rear access door crumpled inwards very noticeably.

Ensign Benson, who had been sitting next to the door, sprang to his feet and promptly fell over several of his fellow crew members in an effort to remove himself from the danger. A futile attempt because he knew if the door gave way they would all be sucked out into the vacuum of space. A fact Harry Kim was all too aware of as he increased thruster power to the Delta Flyer, to begin slowly pushing the Locota.

“I hope everyone’s ok in there,” fretted Samantha Wildman, back aboard the Flyer. “I’ve extended our shields around them, try and scan their life signs again.”

“The shields are helping, I’m getting six very distinct life signs now,” said Seven, “transporter lock is holding but I’ll only be able to transport 2 at a time, the interference is resulting in a power loss.”

“Start picking them up anyway. I’ve a feeling the Locota’s not going to hold together much longer,” warned Harry.

“He’s right Seven,” said Wildman, “I’m reading dangerous stress levels and micro fractures to their hull.”

“Energising now,” said Seven calmly.

Two figures materialised at the rear of the Delta Flyer. Smiles of relief spread across their faces. A slight re-adjustment of the transporter and two more crew appeared, each with the same grins of delight.

On board the Locota the Delaney sisters held onto each other as they watched the rear door buckle inwards. An audible hiss began and several conduits ruptured, spewing poisons into the cabin. Together they both felt the tingle of the transporter beam, but only Jenny glimpsed the stars visible beyond the missing access door before she was whisked away and deposited safely on the Delta Flyer.

Standing behind the Flyer’s pilot seat they got a good view of the Locota explosively decompressing as Harry Kim peeled away at impulse. Once the Delta Flyer was safe the Delaney sisters threw their arms around Harry and squealed with joy. Seven looked at them distastefully while everyone else laughed.


The Drake was two metres shy of the frozen embankment when it finally came to rest. Slowly Paris and Janeway in unison uncurled and surveyed their surroundings. Every console and display was dead. The only light they had came through the shuttles view ports.

“We must have passed through a power storm,” said Janeway, “ without the sensors we were blind to them.”

“If that’s the case were going to be here for a while,” said Paris rubbing the back of his neck as he stood, “Better take a look where we are.”

“Your hurt” Janeway said, taking note of the lump on Paris head.

“A bump and whiplash, I’ll live,” groaned Paris, What about you?”

“A few bruises, I ……”

Before Janeway could finish her sentence the Drake shifted and rocked under them.

“The ice it’s breaking up beneath the weight of the shuttle.” Explained Paris.

“We may not be air tight, abandon ship,” Janeway ordered, opening a locker at the back of the shuttle and extracting two survival packs.

Paris once ordered moved fast, and standing up activated a panel hidden inside a ceiling recess. “We still have some emergency power,” A warning alarm beeped as a man sized hole split in half then slid apart in the shuttles roof. ”Ladies first,” said Paris too Janeway.

“True, but I’m also the captain,” Janeway pointed out.

“We are sinking fast do you really want to stand here and debate my chivalry?” asked Paris.

“Good point,” Janeway replied, “give me a boost.”

Paris lifted his captain up to the emergency escape hatch, watched as she climbed out onto the shuttles roof then passed up the survival packs. By the time he had climbed out to join her, Janeway had already thrown the packs over to the nearby embankment. The embankment was three feet higher than the ice level and the shuttle was fast sinking down to meet it.

“Who’s first?” asked Janeway of Paris, knowing full well his answer.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Paris, stepping to one side on top of the swaying shuttle.

Sizing up the two-metre gap against her short legs, Janeway took a step back before running two forwards and throwing herself across. Paris watched Janeway land with a thud on the embankment, then felt his relief turn to horror as it gave way beneath her.

Instinctively Janeway reached out but there was nothing to hold onto. She felt herself sliding down into the freezing water and desperately dug her fingers into the ice. Watching a survival pack slide past her and disappear beneath the broken ice Janeway called out for help. “TOM!”

“I’m here,” came a voice from above.

Looking up Janeway saw Paris reaching down to grab her. It didn’t take much effort for Paris to haul his captain up and he soon had her sitting on a more solid piece of the bank. Together they watched as the last piece of the Drake sank below the ice.

“Th…this is the…th…ird time you’ve s…aved my neck to…day,” Janeway's teeth chattered as she spoke.

“It’s my new hobby ma’am,” joked Paris.

Janeway smiled at him then shivered, suddenly realising that she was freezing. Seeing Janeway shiver Paris grabbed the remaining survival pack and pulled out a silver thermal jacket and pants. “You had better put these on,” he said, holding them out to Janeway.

“What about……you?” she asked, without taking them.

“First of all I didn’t just get a dunking and secondly your female, physically you will feel the cold more than me,” as he spoke Paris unfastened the thermal jacket and wrapped it around Janeway. Figuring she didn’t have a frozen leg to stand on, Janeway slipped her arms into the jacket and allowed Paris to zip her up. She also allowed him to help her don the thermal pants, after finding out her semi numb legs wouldn’t at first stand up on their own.

“Can you walk?” asked Paris, “We have to find shelter.”

Janeway stomped her feet to warm them up, “I’ll be ok to walk but which way do we go?”

Paris pulled a tricorder from the backpack and did a quick scan of the nearby forest. “Those storms didn’t just effect the shuttle,” said Paris, passing the tricorder over to Janeway. The display screen was running scroll after scroll of gibberish, while emitting several warning bleeps, chirps and hisses. Including one informing them the power pack was almost dead, just before it gave up completely.

“Tom check your phaser,” said Janeway.

Paris unclipped his phaser and examined the power level indicator, “this was fully charged eight hours ago, now its almost drained.”

“Lets hope we don’t need it, pick a direction Mr Paris, we can’t stay here,”

“Well as we came into land I saw three hills to the north and west, to the east scrub land and ahead of us about 3 kilo metres of dense forest. So I would suggest we go north west, through the forest to the hills.”

“You saw all that with your eyes closed?”

Paris laughed, “Trust me.”

Janeway managed a return smile before checking her bearings and striding out in a northwest direction.

“The trees should offer some shelter and the hills may have caves,” said Paris, slinging the remains of the survival pack over his shoulder and following Janeway into the forest.

“You know Tom I’m impressed for a B minus student you’ve done ok so far,” Janeway called over her shoulder.

“You think so, I thought that plasma manoeuvre of yours was a good call,” said Paris

. “Don’t change the subject ensign,” said Janeway, “and while we are on the subject, why did your father mark your grade down. I’ve yet on any away mission been able to fault your survival skills.”

“I think there’s a snow storm brewing,” said Paris, trying again to persuade Janeway to drop the current topic.

Janeway instead stopped and spun around to face Paris, “Tom!”

Paris sighed and rubbed the bruise on his head, “I’ll tell you later.”

“Promise?” Janeway asked softly, realising she was treading on tender ground.

“Scouts honour.” Replied Paris, with a perfect scout salute.

Satisfied Janeway turned around and moved on again, “your right I think it will snow.”


“We have lost communications commander,” said lieutenant Summers from Voyagers bridge operations post. Below her commander Chakotay stood calling out orders to key personnel around the ship.

“Did they make contact?” asked Chakotay; his reference was to the USS Drake, captain Janeway's shuttle.

“No sir,” said Summers, glumly, “and the Myon’s at Luna 3 shuttle port did not answer my hail in regards to them.”

“I have had no response from the Myon council either sir,” said Tuvox, “It would seem we are on our own.”

“How long before we clear this storm,” Chakotay asked Tuvox, worry lines crinkling his tattooed forehead.

“Approximately fourteen hours,” replied Tuvox, efficiently.

“Ok, everyone listen up,” Chakotay stood with his hands on hips, “we have to batten down the hatch’s and keep on our toes. This storm is moving faster than us so it will out run us. There is every chance Voyager’s shielding will be strong enough to with stand the electro magnetic effects,” Chakotay looked around at his crew they stood attentively listening. “All none essential systems will be shut down as of now, all personnel not on duty or under orders will congregate in the mess hall. Any questions?” No one spoke.

“This is now a yellow alert, Belanna!” Chakotay called as the computer responded to his voice and began flashing yellow alert warning lights throughout Voyager. “Have one of your top people keep an eye on the doctor. I’m not sure what effect this will have on him.”

“Perhaps his program would be safer stored in the holo matrix pattern buffers for the duration,” suggested Belanna.

“The back up systems would offer him some protection,” agreed Chakotay, “but he’ll put up a fight. The captain gave the doctor so much free will it’s difficult to get him to co-operate with anything much lately.” “If you made it an order he would have to comply,” said Belanna.

“I’d rather not do that, bring up the safety aspect with him see what happens,” said Chakotay, “contact me if you need assistance.”

“I will,” said Belanna, then she left leaving Chakotay standing silent and motionless amid a bustling bridge. His thoughts on the thousand possible fates that could have befallen the Drake, Janeway or Paris.


An hour later Janeway and Paris were deep within the forest. Daylight filtering through the snow-laden branches above them, light the path below their feet. Walking was tiring; with each step their feet sank a foot deep into the snow and the path Paris had chosen, meandered through thick undergrowth.

“Didn’t they kick you out of scouts?” asked Janeway, ducking under a low branch.

Paris had taken the lead giving Janeway the opportunity to walk in his footsteps, literally. “No I resigned,” said Paris, climbing over a fallen tree blocking the trail.

“That’s not what your father told me,” said Janeway accepting Paris support as she climbed over the tree trunk.

“Ok, so I put Andorian Chilli powder in the potato salad and blue dye in the shower water supply, but I didn’t spike the orange juice with the scout masters whisky or put itching powder in his shorts.”

“Maybe not in person but you were the mastermind behind each incident,” said Janeway teasingly. “What was it your father said, ‘Tom was asked to go home and never return after nothing up 15 pranks in one summer vacation,’ quite an achievement for a 10 year old.”

“I was eleven,” Paris said defiantly, “and it was 16, I activated a virus in the scout computer systems before I left.”

“You were quite a rebel in your youth,” said Janeway chuckling.

“My father and half of Starfleet still think I……”

Paris suddenly stopped in his tracks, Janeway who was watching her feet didn’t notice and walked into the back of him before realising he had stopped.

“Fresh animal tracks,” said Paris, pointing to the ground in front of him, “from the size and distance of these prints what ever it was, was extremely large.”

Janeway moved to get a look at the ground ahead of them; a second track intersected theirs and disappeared into the foliage, bearing north. Deep in the paths snow cover, untouched by the wind that rustled around them, was paw prints. Each bigger than Janeway's hand and wider apart than she could stride.

“Now I’m wishing that phaser of yours was fully charged,” said Janeway gripping Paris arm and taking a step closer to him.

Paris tapped the lifeless phaser at his side. “Just because the animal is large doesn’t mean it’s dangerous,” he said, trying to reassure himself as well as his captain. “And anyway it would appear to be going in the other direction.”

“I would still suggest under the circumstances that we pick up the pace a little,” said Janeway pushing past Paris and tugging his sleeve to follow.

Paris caught her sleeve in turn, “can you manage?

Janeway smiled warmly, her feet hurt and she was just barely able to keep stop her teeth chattering but she wasn’t going to let on to Paris, “I’m tougher than I look.”

Paris nodded, not quite believing her. He knew if he was feeling the cold she would be too, in spite of the thermal suit, “Ok lets go.”

Together they moved out at a faster pace. Behind them out of sight and earshot a large grunting nostril sniffed the air then turned to back track on it’s self.


Belanna Torres entered a deserted sickbay and quickly strode across to the doctor’s office. With any luck she would have him tucked away before he knew what was happening. Unfortunately Belanna’s luck wasn’t with her, the moment her fingers touched the doctors programming controls he materialised behind her.

“Miss Torres what are you doing with my program?” asked the EMH doctor suspiciously.

Belanna did her best to ignore the doctor and continue with the task. “I’m storing it in one of the holo-emitters back up buffers for safety.”

“Safety! Safety from what,” probed the doctor, while watching what Belanna was doing very closely.

“One of those energy sucking power storms just enveloped Voyager, we are not sure if our shields will be powerful enough to protect her. We’ve already had shuttle craft malfunctions from long term minimal exposure.”

“That being the case, prey tell why did we fly into this storm?”

“We didn’t it flew into us.”

The doctor sighed deeply and shook his head. “Things like this always happen when Mr Paris is at the helm.”

“Tom’s not at the helm,” said Belanna, “he took the Drake out to get the Captain three hours ago and he’s not back yet.”

“So the captain is missing, and as usual I’m the last one to ………”

The doctor vanished mid-sentence, briefly leaving his mobile emitter hanging in mid air before Belanna deftly caught it. Smiling smugly she placed it on its recess stand and made for the sickbay double doors. However before she could reach them the EMH reappeared at Belanna’s side.

“….Find out!” He said finishing off his previous sentence. “That was very rude, I hadn’t finished talking.”

“I don’t have time to read you a story before I tuck you in for the night. I have to get back to engineering.”

“Fine! You have your engines to attend to, Chakotay has his bridge, Neelix has…Neelix has his food, I have my patients and this sickbay.” Both the doctor and Belanna did a double take of the empty sickbay. “You can’t just file me away, I may be needed.”

“Chakotay said you would be difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, we are on Yellow Alert, I have a post and I don’t intend to abandon it.”

“Fair enough doctor,” said Belanna throwing her hands in the air, “But if you feel any effects what's so ever from the power storm, call me or retreat into the holo deck matrix, you should be safe there.”

“Will do,” said the doctor smiling triumphantly as Belanna left him.

Paris had stopped shivering long ago and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. “We’ll be out of the tree cover soon.” He said to Janeway who was several yards behind him and struggling to keep up. When no response came Paris stopped and turned, just in time to see his captain fall.

“Are you ok?” Paris called going back to help her.

Janeway accepted his assistance. “I tripped its ….my feet I can’t feel them anymore.”

“Damn!” Paris swore, “I was hoping we would find shelter before that happened.” Paris was now holding Janeway up. “Can you walk at all?”

“I don’t know, lets see shall we.”

Janeway tried to take a step only to have her feet and legs collapse beneath her. Fortunately Paris still had one arm encircling Her waist. An arm he used to pull Janeway closer to him so he could scoop her up.

“How far do you think you can carry me?” asked Janeway, looping her own arms around Paris neck.

“As far as I have too,” Paris replied striding off confidently, if a little unsteady, down the track.

Sometime later a large fur clad, snarling beast stopped and sniffed the ground, then sniffed the air. It’s eyes twitched as its uncomplicated brain tried to make sense of the two trails becoming one but the two different scents remaining. In the end a need for food drove the beast on.

It was half an hour before Paris had to reluctantly put Janeway down. Reluctantly because the weather was turning and they hadn’t found shelter yet. And reluctantly because Janeway’s body heat was the only thing keeping him going. But they had come out of the forest at the foot of some dangerously rocky hills and Paris could carry his captain no further.

Janeway huddled against the rock boulder where Paris had placed her out of the wind. It was frozen over but she found comfort in it’s lee. Thoughts of staying where she was and just going to sleep for a while passed through her head. Terrified Janeway jolted herself awake again and looked around for Paris. She found him scrambling up the rocky slope to get a better view of their situation. From the way he stumbled and faltered Janeway surmised he was doing no better than her with the cold and was probably exhausted from carrying her as well.

Paris feet hurt like hell and his back complained too, but he liked the pain it proved he was still alive and not just dreaming he was from a frozen slumber. Below Paris his captain waited for a survey report and a suggestion of where to go next. Memories of his Starfleet survival training ran through Paris head along with the B-minus grade his father had given him. “I had better make this test an A-plus grader.” Paris said to himself then carefully climbed back down to Janeway.

Taking a seat close to his captain for protection against the growing wind and warmth Paris spoke. “There’s no way you could climb up there and the land flattens out to the east, so we had better go west, hope we find a cave or something before it gets too steep.”

“Or too dark,” added Janeway.

“I had noticed,” said Paris moving closer still to Janeway, “how are you doing?”

“Will, cold, tied and scared do you,” replied Janeway, smiling softly and instantly regretting her words.

“I’m sorry,” Paris said, dropping his gaze from hers, “It’s my fault were in this mess. I should have checked the shuttle before…”

Janeway stopped Paris speaking by placing a thermal gloved hand over his mouth, “later,” said Janeway. Paris knew what she meant and smiled weakly at Janeway before moving to pick her up again.


Belanna stood at the window of Voyagers mess hall scanning the stars and space between for signs of the lost shuttle.

“Damn you! Tom Paris,” muttered Belanna under her breath.

“You say something Belanna?” asked Neelix, coming up behind her.

“This is typical of Paris haring off not thinking. If he had just let me check the Drake out before he left.”

“I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head too much over Tom. He’s crash landed more shuttles than a Denvorian test pilot. If anyone can survive he can. Look how well he took care of me when we crashed on planet hell.”

“Is that little snippet supposed to lighten my mood?” asked Belanna scowling at Neelix.

“Ok maybe it was a bad example, but Tom is a very resourceful man and he’s got the captain with him,” aid Neelix not giving up. “You’ll see when that storm pass’s Paris will be the first one waiting to come back aboard.”

“Excuse me if I don’t bet my life on that,” sneered Belanna, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Neelix joined her at the table. “Your problem is you have no faith. How many times has Paris pulled you out of danger?”

“More times than I would like to remember,” replied Belanna.

“He may act the fool and joke around but when it really counts you can trust him 100%.”

“Ok Neelix,” smiled Belanna, “you can stop singing his praises now. “I’ll believe you Tom Paris is out there somewhere still alive.” Belanna went back to the window, “and when he comes back I’m going to give him a roasting.”

Neelix raised a finger to make a comment but at the last moment thought better of it. He was also a little puzzled about just how Belanna was going to ‘roast’ Tom.

“She’s still alive, I know it,” said Chakotay pacing his office for the third time whilst speaking to Tuvox. “The captain is a remarkable women and Mr Paris is not without his own personnel talents, what ever their circumstances I’m sure they will pull together and make it through.”

“I don’t doubt that one minuet Tuvox, but I have other people troubling me.”

“Belanna?”

“She is blaming herself for not stopping Paris leaving in the Drake.”

“Belanna has a habit of taking the blame for every minor mishap and major crisis’s,” said Tuvox calmly, “especially one’s she can not control.”

“Precisely.” Chakotay stopped pacing and sighed deeply.


Paris barely saw the tracks in the gathering darkness. If there hadn’t been so many he probably would have missed them.

“Do you think it’s one animal coming and going or many moving together? Asked Janeway, running her tied eyes over the animal tracks that led out of the forest and up to the rock face before them.

“At least three maybe four,” said Paris, “and I would guess these tracks are a few hours old at best. See how the wind has disturbed them.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Janeway, “they lead up to that scrub bush there in the rock face, just before that opening.”

“It’s not very wide do you think you could walk?” Paris asked stepping closer to the rocky gap. He was still carrying Janeway and didn’t like the idea of entering a potentially hostile area without the means to defend himself and his captain.

“I’ll give it a try,” answered Janeway.

Paris lowered Janeway to her feet then watched as her face creased with pain.

“I’ll manage, just don’t let me go.”

With one arm holding up his captain and the other cradling his almost empty phaser, Paris cautiously pushed aside the frozen foliage and entered the man sized crack. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness Paris and Janeway found themselves at the entrance to a tunnel.

“Hang on,” said Paris aiming his depleted weapon at a spot on the wall in front of him. A slim beam of energy shot through the air and ignited a wooden torch nestled in an iron bracket, fastened to the tunnels wall. Light danced fourth providing them a view of the tunnels extent.

Stretching for about twenty feet in front of them before turning out of sight was a hand crafted two man-sized excavations. At intervals along the wall more iron brackets supporting torches could be seen Paris holstered his phaser, removed the torch he had light and preceded to advance down the tunnel. Periodically he set fire to another bracketed torch, more for comfort than for light. All the time he kept one arm protectively and supportively around Janeway's waist.

“The Myon’s must have done this,” said Janeway, “with hand tools.”

“Yer, but why?” asked Paris as they rounded the tunnels corner only to find another length of tunnel exactly the same as the first. Silently they approached the second corner, and light the next torch.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Janeway, as the tunnel in front of them matched the on behind, except for the floor.

This one was littered with shredded furs, broken pots and spoilt food. Following the trail of devastation, Paris and Janeway found themselves standing at the tunnels next bend and the doorway to a small cavern. The cavern was roughly the size of Voyagers Bridge but that’s where the similarities ended. Being careful not to tread on the flotsam underfoot. Paris guided Janeway to the caves centre where his torchlight could reach each of the walls. Most of the cavern was a natural geographical structure, with a rough sandy floor, stalactite walls, stone ledges and no other obvious tunnels or exist. Only the winding entrance had been purposefully built.

“Maybe its me but I think its warmer in here,” said Paris his voice echoing off the chamber walls.

“The twisting tunnel cuts off the outside elements,” explained Janeway, “but it’s still below freezing in here.” “And getting colder by the minuet,” agreed Paris.

“Look at this mess,” said Janeway changing the subject.

“Those creatures what ever they are must have done this,” Paris turned in a circle so as to get a complete view of the chambers trashed interior.

Large earthen pots had been toppled and smashed, their contents spread asunder. It was mostly dried food that was now half eaten or spoilt. Wooden casks had been ripped open spilling the liquids inside. Janeway noticed some of it had started to freeze; lending credence to Paris notion that what ever had been here was long gone. The surprising element of the mess was the shredded animal pelts. Furs of all different shapes and sizes were scattered around the floor.

Paris kicked one with his foot, “This ones white like earth’s Polar bears.”

“What ever did this was strong, with sharp claws,” remarked Janeway inspecting the rips in one pelt. “These furs could have easily come from their kin.”

“This must be some kind of Myon hunting lodge, look there’s a fire place,” Paris pointed to the far right corner, at a ring of stones and a pile of logs.


Paris left Janeway to build a fire while he gathered up the scattered furs to make a comfortable place for the two of them rest.

“Some of these furs have been fashioned into coats,” said Paris somewhat astonished.

“Good put one on you must be half frozen,” said Janeway “Starfleet uniforms are not exactly artic gear.”

“Speaking of freezing how are your feet?” asked Paris as he shrugged his shoulders into one of the coats.

“Warming up,” replied Janeway smiling at the furry vision before her, “and hurting like hell I think I preferred them numb.”

“Pain is good it means the blood is still circulating,” said Paris, “I can use some of these furs to make warm foot wear, but first…..” Paris stopped talking sat down at Janeway's feet and preceded to remove her boots.

“Mr Paris what are you doing?”

“Trust me,” said Paris as he set about massaging his captains ice cold feet with equally cold hands.

“Oh my ….Oh,” gasped Janeway in both pain and relief at the same time.

“How am I doing?” Paris asked a little concerned.

“Not…bad,” replied Janeway, secretly enjoying the procedure. “This a trick you learnt from the Doctor or another of your survival techniques.”

“Neither actually, I do this for Belanna when her feet are tied from pulling double shifts,” Paris face dropped noticeably.

“She’ll forgive you, don’t worry,” said Janeway, kicking Paris softly in the ribs.

“Not without some grovelling, “ said Paris taking the offending foot and rubbing it harder.

“Out of the twelve romances blossoming on Voyager yours with Belanna has to be the most stable.”

“Twelve, does that include the doctor and Seven.”

“Most definitely,” said Janeway, “But don’t you tell him I know.”

“Is that an order?” asked Paris.

“It could be or I could just threaten to tell the doctor some of your secrets in exchange.”

“My secrets,” said Paris feigning innocence.

“Sure I could tell the good doctor about the time you ate your sisters goldfish.”

“I didn’t eat it, mum flushed it down the toilet because it died while she was at school.” Said Paris indignantly. “I was five and thought it would be a good joke to say I ate it. My sister took me at my word, went running to dad. After that she wouldn’t believe the toilet scenario. To this day she still believes I ate her fish.”

“And so will the doctor, if I tell him.”

“This isn’t fair,” moaned Paris, “you have an advantage, namely my fathers big mouth.”

“If it helps my father was just as bad when it came to showing off or telling tales about me to others.” Said Janeway sympathising, “He once told the collective fleet Admirals a story about how I wet my pants at the tender age of 2 during a nursery pageant.”

“I bet you were the cutest two year old in the class,” said Paris grinning.

“You repeat a word I’ve just said and the fish story goes public.”

“The fish story is nothing compared with the school pageant.”

“Well there’s always the fly zipper incident.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“Ok,” said Paris, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “I give in.”

Janeway's smile broadened.


“Seven of Nine Delta Flyer, log report. We have been lucky, two of Voyagers shuttle were grounded on planets when the message reached them of the shuttle failures. Of the others the Cochrane took the Orion in tow and made a colonized Myon moon before her systems gave up, and finding the Frontier a drift free from any storms we were able to beam her crew off safely. But all eight are suffering from oxygen deprivation and are critical. Our currant heading is for the same moon as the Cochrane and Orion landed on. Brief communications with them have been encouraging.

All contact with Voyager ceased two hours ago and the Myon's have been unhelpful. Our calls for assistance have been ignored or denied. It would appear they don’t have the same code of conduct the federation has regarding distress signals.

This worries me greatly as we are still missing one shuttle, the USS Drake, containing Captain Janeway and Ensign Paris. It is possible they have set down safely and are just out of communications range. After dropping off our injured I intend to take the Delta Flyer back to Luna 3 to search for them.


Paris dropped another log on to the fire, as the flames consumed it, smoke rose upwards to a hidden vent in the roof.

“This wood isn’t going to last much longer, I’ll have to find more before it gets too dark.” Paris threw his fur covers over Janeway and stood. “Keep the fire going and don’t come after me, no matter how long I take. “It felt odd giving his captain orders but technically as Voyagers chief and only nurse he had the same authority as the Doctor.

“Don’t worry Mr Paris I’m going nowhere,” Janeway pulled the extra covers up to her chin and smiled.

Paris smiled back turned to leave but hesitated, and turned back. “I think you had better hang on to this,” Paris said handing his phaser over to Janeway.

“What about you,” asked Janeway noting that the phaser was almost drained and probably useless.

“I’m ok,” replied Paris extracting an axe like weapon from beneath his fur coat.

“Where did you find that?”

“Under the logs,” answered Paris checking the weight of the crude tool for a one handed blow, “My theory’s are it was either hidden or lost.”

“If it was hidden that would mean someone’s coming back for it,” said Janeway hopefully.

“True but he won’t necessarily return today.”

“Be careful out there,” said Janeway seriously.

Paris nodded, “Don’t worry I’ll be back.”

“I’m not worried,” Janeway said to herself after Paris had gone. But she was worried, factors weighed heavily against them. First their shuttle had been off course with many possible places to land or crash, secondly they were now miles away from the shuttle which was under a lake, and thirdly even if Chakotay was looking in the right place for them it would still take hours and the temperature was dropping rapidly. Their only hope was to keep the fire going.

Outside the cavern the weather was building up. Snow now almost obliterated the tree line just 50 feet away. Stepping out Paris found the wind chill added to the below freezing temperature, made short work of his fur coat. While the gathering darkness cast shadows making iced rocks treacherous. Paris tread carefully but still slipped and faltered his way across them, Carrying wood back was going to be difficult.

It took half an hour to gather and transfer three armload's of firewood to the cave entrance. Half an hour in which Paris feet became painfully cold and his fur wrapped hands froze stiff. Night had fallen now and his only light came from the moons twin sisters chilling glow.

Paris was returning with his fourth bundle of logs when he saw it, a great white furry beast moving towards the cave entrance, sniffing the air and growling softly.

Paris dropped the bundle reached inside his own fur and pressed hard on his combadge, “Paris to Janeway, look out you’ve got company,” but the badge didn’t chirp and there was no response from Janeway. Frantically Paris pressed his combadge again, nothing it didn’t work, he couldn’t warn his Captain.

Pulling the axe free from his rope belt Paris set off as fast as his frozen feet would move back to the cave. But he had not gone two feet when he felt a searing pain rip through his left shoulder and a great weight crash onto him bringing him down. The axe jarred from his grasp, flew away into a snowdrift. Taking note of where it had landed Paris quickly ducked and rolled away from under the clawed paw, swooping down to finish him off. The creature was slow to react, a point in Paris favour but it was huge and powerful, with jaws wide enough to bite Paris head clean off. The animal reared up on its hind legs ready to attack again. Everything turned into slow motion as Paris unable to stand rolled again away from the beast and towards his buried weapon.

Inside the cavern Janeway lay motionless under her fur covers. She had woken to the sound of echoed growls, ‘Not Tom coming back,’ her cold brain told her, ‘stay still, be prepared.’ Janeway cradled the phaser Paris had left with her, 'maybe one shot, had to get a clear hit, mustn’t miss'. She had already tried to contact Paris but got no response out of her combadge. ‘Only unable to respond, not dead,’ she had told herself.

Following the strange smell of possible food, two beasts moved quickly through the familiar tunnels. Each growling its hungry need as it got closer to the cavern. Small eyes, best in the dark, worked in tandem with large ears to ascertain its prey.


Janeway reacted with Starfleet trained precision and the phaser shot caught the first beast full on. Momentarily it glowed red then vanished. But the second beast undeterred by the demise of its kin advanced teeth bared. Tossing the now useless phaser aside Janeway reached for the burning torch beside her. As a rule animals were afraid of fire. Standing to her full height, back against the wall Janeway faced the snarling beast. “My, my what big teeth you’ve got grandma.”

Thrusting his hand deep into the snowdrift, Paris fumbled for the shaft of his weapon. Behind him drooling jaws snapped at the air where he had been moments ago. Angry now the beast reared up again, but this time Paris was ready and as the over grown fur coat came down he swung the axe up and into its chest. Roaring in pain the beast dropped, missing Paris head by inch’s with its razor sharp claws.

The creature three feet in front of Janeway hadn’t wavered in the slightest by her burning torch and was rising up onto its hind legs, while letting out a deafening roar. Janeway thrust her flame higher but the beast kept coming. A giant clawed leg swung at Janeway from the left, ducking it missed but distracted by the beasts snarls, Janeway didn’t take into account the creatures south paw, which knocked the torch aside then Janeway off her feet.

Shaken she lay frozen beneath the towering frame of matted fur, teeth and claws, seconds from possible death. “NOOoooo!” Screamed Paris, startling both Janeway and the beast. But before either of them could react Paris leaped through the air and landed squarely on the animals back. Grabbing a handful of fur to ride out the creature’s rodeo attempts to shake him off, Paris took aim then let fly with his bloodied axe head.

Janeway watched as her con officer brought the axe down with great force onto the beast’s skull. Splitting the skin then bone, burring the blade deep within its brain. Instantly the creature fell, its eyes wide open but lifeless. Paris climbed off the beasts back and made his way to Janeway, who out of relief flung her arms around Paris neck. Overcome with relief of his own Paris returned the hug.

“I couldn’t get my combadge to work, I couldn’t warn you,” said Paris squeezing back tears from his eyes.

“Mine wouldn’t work either,” explained Janeway, releasing her grip a little so she could press Paris combadge then her own. Each in turn emitted a healthy chirp, “There must be something in the rocks blocking the signal.”

“Damn! That’s all we need,” swore Paris, letting go of his captain and turning his attention back to the dead creature.

“Tom!” gasped Janeway as Paris turned to reveal his back to her, “Your shoulder, you’ve been hurt.”

Paris reached a hand to where he knew the beast had injured him. Drawing it back he saw scarlet blood. “It’s nothing just a scratch,” Paris shrugged, “we have to get this thing out of here.”

Concerned about her officer and friend but knowing he was right, the dead creature would attract other animals looking for food, Janeway grabbed a hind leg, “Take the other one lets see if we can drag it outside.”


“Ok Seven, what’s our destination?” asked Harry Kim, climbing into the pilot seat of the Delta Flyer. The seat was beginning to feel comfortable, too comfortable. It wasn’t a permanent position he wished to take on, if anything, god forbid, had happened to the flyers favourite pilot, Tom Paris. All around him were memories of the hotshot pilot, and Harry’s mind flashed through the possibilities of Captain Janeway and Paris fate.

“Mr Kim, are you awake?” asked Seven, after getting no response from Harry for half a minuet.

“What…oh..er..sorry,” stammered Kim pulling himself together and running a flight check.

“Our destination Mr Kim is Luna 3, the last known co-ordinates of the Drake,” seven slid into the operations chair up behind Harry and ran her own set of pre flight checks. “Shields are down by 10 percent and our sensors are compromised by 3.5 percent.”

“That’s not bad considering what we’ve flown through,” Said Lieutenant Wildman from the Delta Flyers science station.

“True,” responded Seven, “but it means we are not invulnerable, please check all minor systems. It would not be prudent to take off until we know the full extent of any damage.”

Apart from a minor glitch in the food replicator, which refused to produce anything solid, the Delta Flyer’s crew found no other malfunctions and seven gave Kim the all clear to lift off. It would take them 2 hours to reach Luna 3 but Seven had her fingers mentally crossed that they would find the Drake along the way. She didn’t dare contemplate in what condition they would find it, or weather anyone inside her would be alive by the time they got there. The Delta Flyer had good medical facilities but secretly she wished the Doctor were with them.


The beast was heavy and difficult to move along the twisting tunnel, but eventually, exhausted, Paris and Janeway dragged it out of the entrance.

“Take the fire wood back in,” yelled Paris against the wind that had gathered pace and was now whistling past them ferociously.

“You can’t drag this beast on your own,” Janeway yelled back.

“I’ll have too your done in,” said Paris, taking hold of Janeway's arm and moving her back into the tunnels shelter, “besides you’ve got no boots on.”

Janeway looked to her fur wrapped feet, they had been so warm and comfortable she’d forgotten.

“Before you go I need your combadge,” added Paris, pulling a piece of his torn uniform sleeve off.

Knowing full well what he was going to do, Janeway handed over the badge then watched as Paris wrapped it in the cloth and tied it to the rooted bush outside the tunnel entrance.

“See you back inside,” Janeway called, picking up a bundle of logs. By the time she looked up again Paris was a blur behind the thickening snowfall.

A warm curtain greeted Paris upon his return to the cavern. In his absence captain Janeway had built up the dwindling fire. She had also laid out the medical kit, from the survival pack.

“What’s that for?” asked Paris indicating the medical kit.

“You,” replied Janeway, “sit!”

“This isn’t necessary,” protested Paris as he sat down facing the fire where she had pointed.

But Janeway ignored him, and instead removed his fur coat, and tunic top, before peeling back the blood soaked shirt beneath. As she did Janeway saw four parallel wounds. They looked deep and were still bleeding profusely.

“This is a little more than a scratch.”

“It doesn’t fell like it,” said Paris, “In fact I can hardly feel any pain at all.”

“You can’t,” Janeway poked at the wound, Paris didn’t even flinch. Worried Janeway pressed two fingers too Paris neck. His pulse was slow and his breathing laboured. “Some things not right Tom.”

“I don’t ……feel so…..good,” said Paris, finding it hard to talk between breaths, “tired….”

“Dam!” Janeway swore as Paris passed out, falling backwards against her. “Hold on Tom.” Janeway called into his ear. Pulling a hypo spray from the medical kit she readjusted the dosage and pressed it to Paris exposed shoulder.

The medication worked fast and after a few deep breaths Paris opened his eyes again. “Oh my! That was horrible. I could hear you but I couldn’t move, my whole body was numb.”

“You’ve been poisoned Tom,” explained Janeway, easing Paris up to a sitting position again so she could apply a synthetic skin sealant over his wound to control the bleeding. The beast that did this infected you with a paralytic toxin. It’s effecting your lungs, heart and nervous system.

“I feel fine now.”

“That’s because I shot you full off cordrazine.”

“Cordrazine?”

“Don’t worry I only gave you 2cc’s. But Tom,” Janeway turned Paris head so he could see her, “there are only 3 more shots and I don’t know how long each will last before the toxin takes effect again.”

Paris turned away from Janeway, “Chakotay and Belanna will find us before they run out,” He said confidently, but Janeway noticed the quiver in his voice and reached around to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“I’m getting cold,” said Paris releasing Janeway's hand and reaching for his clothes. “Ahhh!” Paris screamed, as a hot knife of pain cut through his injured shoulder. Bile rose in his stomach and Paris had to fight the urge to be sick. “I think I liked it better when I couldn’t feel anything.”

“I can’t give you any pain killers,” said Janeway, helping Paris put his things back on, “they would lessen the efficiency of the Cordrazine.”

“It’s all right,” said Paris through gritted teeth, “I’ll be ok if I don’t move too much.”

Janeway helped Paris lean against the cave wall for support then settling herself between his knees, pulled the covers up over both of them as she did.

“Is this where I keep my hands to myself or I get my face slapped?” asked Paris.

“No this is where you get to hold me tight,” said Janeway, “we’ll need to conserve our body heat from now on, and ration the fire wood. It’s too dangerous to attempt another collection.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that point,” agreed Paris, wrapping his arms around Janeways waist.

“How about something to eat, keep our strength up,” suggested Janeway.

“Good idea. What have we got?”

“Emergency ration bars I’m afraid,” said Janeway, passing one to Paris.

“So long as they aren’t Leola root flavour.” Said Paris, trying to hide a painful wince.

“I think they are cherry,” said Janeway, swallowing a bite of her ration bar.

“My mum use to bake the best cherry pie in the alpha quadrant,” said Paris, between mouthfuls of his own ration bar.

“Your mother cooked real food,” exclaimed Janeway, “so did mine.”

“Not so much cook, as bake,” corrected Paris, “She loved to bake, pies, cakes, scones, bread. I’d smell them coming down the street on my way home from school and by the time I’d reached the back door my mouth would be drooling.”

“I hated my mums cooking, I always wished she would give it up and replicate meals like normal people.” Said Janeway, “Both my parents were traditionalists, they believed in keeping things simple. I had to play tennis instead of paresis squares, and learn how to sew, by hand! The only time I got to take a vacation off planet was when my father took me to Mars on a business trip.”

“My father dragged me everywhere with him. I saw more of the galaxy growing up than my own backyard.” Said Paris. “Dad would send me up front on the transports to watch the pilots while he talked shop. I guess that’s how I picked up so much knowledge on how to fly.”

“Your father once told me a tail of how you ‘Aced’ a flight simulator at the tender age of 5 that was meant for academy recruits.”

“I remember how proud he was of me that day.”

“A pride he still carries in his heart I’m sure,” said Janeway hugging Paris knees tighter around her for warmth and comfort.


As the Delta Flyer approached the Luna 3 spaceport, Seven and Harry Kim noticed something odd. Where as the last time they had visited the base it had been teeming with ships, shuttles and people this time it looked deserted, abandoned even.

“Where the hell is everyone,” asked Harry Kim.

“This is port control calling the federation shuttle designation Delta Flyer, this area is under storm alert, please leave this area immediately,” the transmission was voice only and came over the Flyers open emergency channel.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” responded Seven, “one of our shuttles is missing and it was last reported in this area.”

“Your missing shuttle left ten parsecs ago, they will be long gone by now. I would suggest you check your information and leave.”

“You appear to be in a hurry for us to depart,” said Seven.

“Your shuttle is in danger, you must leave this area now.”

“A vector would be nice,” said Kim so only Seven could hear him.

Seven nodded, “perhaps you could point us in the right direction?”

“You mean which way did they go?” asked the controller.

“Precisely,” replied Seven curtly.

“I’m transmitting co-ordinates to your computer. Now please leave,” snapped the Myon closing his transmission.

“This is not the direction of Voyager,” said Seven, checking the co-ordinates out.

“If Tom knew about the storm he could have been trying to go around it,” suggested Kim.

“If that was the case they could be anywhere within this sector.”

“Maybe they made it back to Voyager,” said a hopeful lieutenant Wildman.

“I doubt that very much lieutenant,” said Seven of nine.

“Come on Sam, you saw the state of Voyagers other shuttles.” said Harry Kim, jogging Sam’s memory.

“This is all my fault,” said Samantha Wildman, throwing her head into her hands and weeping. “If I hadn’t got lost in the caves we would have made it back in time for the captain.”

Seven sat at her console looking stunned by Wildman's outburst.

“Don’t be silly Samantha,” said Harry Kim, getting to his feet and moving to the back of the Flyer where lieutenant Wildman appeared to be having a mini break down. “We were already late. It’s not your fault at all.” Harry tentatively rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder. This seemed to increase the noise coming from the lieutenant rather than decrease it.

“Your just saying that to be nice,” snivelled Samantha.

Kim looked to Seven for help, but the stern, confused expression on her face told him not to expect much.

“Lieutenant Wildman,” snapped Seven, “I’m not sure what had brought on this emotional outburst, but this is not fitting behaviour for a Starfleet officer. Pull yourself together and bring up a chart for this region.”

Samantha didn’t move and Kim starred amazed at Seven.

“Please return to your seat Mr Kim, we have a lot of space and planets to search.” Seven looked at Harry more crossly than he had ever seen her before. “Ensign, lieutenant?”

Samantha Wildman wiped her eyes and lifted her head, “It’s ok Harry you may return to your duties,” Wildman's lip quivered as she spoke.

“If your sure Sam,” said Harry gently squeezing her shoulder before moving away.

Seven took note of Samantha Wildman's expression it was the same as Naomi Wildman’s after she had been admonished for misbehaving. Putting it down to a family trait Seven turned back to the job in hand. “We will head out in the direction Mr Paris took,” said Seven. “There are many life sustaining planets, moons and asteroids out there. It is more than likely the captain and Mr Paris landed safely on one of them and are just fine.” Seven glanced in the direction of Wildman, she appeared to have composed herself.

“She’s probably more worried about Naomi back on Voyager than anything else,” whispered Harry Kim to Seven.

Lowering her own voice Seven responded, “Naomi Wildman is a resourceful child. She will undoubtedly survive were others will perish.”

“Thanks Seven, now I’m beginning to worry about the fate of Voyager and our friends still on board.”

Seven was just about to reason with Harry when a familiar voice came over the ship’s intercom. “Why have you not departed yet?” asked the controller.

“We’ll be leaving shortly, but first could you clarify one small detail?” asked Seven, “if your ships are protected against these storms, why have they all left?”

“I…….well…….It’s standard procedure,” The Myon cut off his communication with out saying good-bye or demanding they leave.

“He has severed all communication with the station,” said Wildman.

“Get the feeling he’s not telling us something?” asked Harry.

“Most definitely,” said Seven, “but we do not have time to investigate, lay in a course Mr Kim, half impulse only.”


Paris hadn’t meant to fall asleep. In fact he didn’t even realise he had until the low rumble disturbed his dreams and the shaking floor jostled him awake.

“Earthquake?” Janeway asked.

The rumble increased to a deafening roar and Paris yelled, “No! Avalanche.”

As rocks and dust began raining down on them from the ceiling. Paris instinctively threw himself over Janeway. While pulling the fur covers over their heads for extra protection. The avalanche rolled down from the mountain above them, thundering along at break neck speed. Scooping up trees and rock boulders as it moved, then deposit them again in the valley below.

Inside the cavern Janeway and Paris waited for the ground to stop moving or the roof to cave in on them. Janeway buried her face into Paris fur covered chest and tried to calm her breathing. Every now and then she heard Paris yell out in pain as something hit him. He had saved her life 4 times now and was due for a very large commendation for his bravery not to mention an A+ for his survival skills.

It felt like longer but it only took three minuets from start to finish for the avalanche to completely devastate the mountain and valley floor.

“You ok?” Paris asked, raising himself up.

Janeway still had her eyes squeezed shut and her hands gripped tightly onto the front of Paris fur coat. Opening them slowly Janeway looked up into his face. “I like this new hobby of yours Tom,” She said smiling, “Don’t ever give it up.”

Paris laughed, it echoed around the cavern before bouncing back at them. “Lets go check the damage,” Said Paris getting to his feet and helping Janeway to hers.

Considering, the cavern and tunnels were relatively undamaged. A few rocks had come down along with a lot of dust, but no collapsed ceilings or walls. Janeway and Paris were beginning to think they had got off light until they turned into the last tunnel section. Near the end snow had fallen into the entrance completely blocking it.

“We could dig,” suggested Paris, inspecting the snow barricade.

“Dig how far! It could be 3 feet or 100 feet deep out there, and to what more of those creatures. At least this way they can’t get in.”

“True,” agreed Paris, “but it also means we won’t be able to get out when a rescue party gets here.”

“I’ve been thinking about, and the fate of my combadge too.”

“It could be anywhere out there now,” said Paris dejectedly.

“Hopefully it’s still in the area,” returned Janeway trying to be optimistic, but Paris didn’t look convinced. “Look Chakotay will have persuaded the Myons to help by now, they will find the shuttle first, realise were gone, then search for our com-signals. Upon finding mine they’ll come to this area. The Myons will know of this cave and figure out where we are. After that it’s just a matter of them digging us out.”

“That’s quite a long shot,” pointed out Paris rubbing his clod hands together.

“I know, but I honestly think the best thing we can do is to sit tight and wait.”

“We do have one other small problem though,” said Paris, still not totally buying into Janeways rescue plan. “I know.” said Janeway, “Air.”

“The fire!” yelled Paris in alarm as he dashed back down the tunnel.

By the time Janeway reached the cavern Paris had kicked out the fire, but thick smoke still hung in the air.

“The vent is blocked,” explained Paris, even though it was quite evident to Janeway.

“Great, no air and no heat, maybe digging our way out isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“We still might not have too,” said Paris searching the ground. “I learnt a trick once with a combadge power cell and a phaser.”

Janeway picked up the phaser from where she had tossed it and handed it to Paris. “So did I but how is that going to help. You’ll get one shot at least if your lucky.”

“I only need one shot,” answered Paris sitting down on the furs while he dismantled his combadge and set about attaching it to the power feed coupling on the phaser.

While he worked Janeway wrapped furs around them both. Without the fire the temperature in the cavern was dropping rapidly. Cold fingers made hard work of the intricate procedure and Paris had to stop twice to warm his hands with not so warm breath. When he was finally finished Paris rose and motioned for Janeway to follow him.

“Mr Paris would you care to enlighten me as to your plan?” asked Janeway as Paris approached the snow blocked tunnel entrance.

“I’m going to use the phaser on a narrow beam as a laser, to burn a whole through the snow, creating an air hole.” Paris relied, kneeling down and aiming his phaser at the snow.

“Interesting plan Ensign,” said Janeway, “mind if I cross my fingers on this one?”

“Not at all,” said Paris, holding up two crossed fingers of his own, “I’ll aim upwards slightly more chance of breaking through.”

As Paris fired the phaser Janeway joined him at the end of the tunnel. After what seemed like a very short space of time they heard the power cell in the combadge whine as the energy depleted.

“That’s it,” said Paris, tossing the phaser to the ground.

Janeway reached around Paris and placed her hand in front of the hole. “I can feel air!” she cried, “You did it.” “It will probably freeze over, but it should stay open long enough to replenish the oxygen consumed by the fire.” Said Paris. “Just keep those fingers crossed that we’ll have enough to keep us alive until the cavalry gets here.”

“We wont be able to light the fire again though,” said Janeway, standing up.

“There are other ways to keep….warm….”

“Tom!” Janeway caught Paris as he pitched forward and lowered him to the ground. Realising what was happening she took off at a run back to the cavern, her heart pounding with each step.

Slamming into the tunnel wall on the return trip Janeway nearly dropped the fragile hypo spray clutched in her hand. Checking the dosage hadn’t been jogged Janeway quickly pressed it to Paris neck.

Paris recovery was as quick as his demise, “Oh god!” he gasped, “Don’t leave me again,” Paris reached out to Janeway.

She took his hand and held it close. “I had to get the cordrazine,” whispered Janeway.

“I could here you running away,” Paris whispered back, tears building up in his eyes, “Shit!” Paris suddenly screamed as the pain returned to his shoulder.

“It’s too cold here, come on Tom,” Janeway helped Paris to his feet and together they made their way back to the cavern. Extinguishing the lighted torches in their brackets as they passed them.

“We’ll only be able to keep one burning at a time,” said Janeway.

Paris nodded words escaping him, there were only two shots left in the hypospray, and the time lapsed from the first dose was eight hours. Paris had 24 hours left.


“It’s been ten hours now and still no signs of any effects from the power storms on Voyagers systems,” said Chakotay taking a seat at the head of Voyagers conference table.

Chakotay had called a meeting of senior staff but with Neelix occupied entertaining the off duty crew and the doctor restricted to sickbay the empty seats out numbered the occupied.

“Life support is still on line to all decks,” said Lieutenant Summers, who had been filling in for ensign Kim in his absence. “No signs of any failures or brown outs.”

“I have noticed a 0.3 fluctuation in our shield integrity,” Tuvox informed the tiny group.

“The warp core is maintaining stability,” added Belanna, “no signs of power overloads as in the shuttle crafts. But I wouldn’t recommend we go to warp until Voyagers well clear of this star system.”

Chakotay listened quietly while each of his officers gave their reports, then turned to the conference room view screen link up, “Doctor have you felt any effects?”

“No nothing, everything on line and running at optimum,” replied the doctor over the link-up. “So how about letting me out of here?”

“If you must you can transfer to one of the holo decks, but no using the mobile emitter,” answered Chakotay. “And that’s an order.”

The doctor looked suitably rebuffed but didn’t put up a fight.

“Commander,” Tuvox said, very seriously, “from my observations over the past hours and of the Myon shuttle previously. I have formulated a speculation on their shield technology.”

“So have I,” said Chakotay, “want to compare.”

“Certainly.” Agreed Tuvox, “My speculation is that the Myons shields are no more powerful than Voyagers or the Delta Flyers and from what I can deduce they are based on the Borg multi phasic technology.”

“Great minds think alike Mr Tuvox,” said Chakotay, sitting back in his chair. “What do you say on this matter Belanna?”

“If your both right it means this whole shield business of theirs is one big bluff.”

“And it also means,” chipped in the doctor, “that they are not so much ignoring our calls for assistance as unable to help because they have no more protection than we do.”

“Tuvox, how much of this Magnetic storm do you reckon Voyager could take before her shields integrity reached compromising levels?”

“My approximate estimate would be three point two days,” replied Tuvox, his hands placed calmly together and his left eyebrow raised quizzically.

“That’s more than enough time. As soon as we are clear of this storm I want full impulse.” Chakotay stood, “we are going to get our people back and then we are going to get the hell away from here.”


Without the fire Janeway and Paris found keeping warm in the below freezing temperatures near impossible. After fourteen hours hold up in the mountain cavern sharing body heat became their last resort for warmth. To keep each other awake and out of hypothermia comas, Janeway and Paris had taken to telling stories.

“Your turn Tom,” said Janeway, “how about something to take my mind off my frozen feet.”

“That’s not going to be easy,” smiled Paris, thinking of his own two blocks of ice. Janeway had taken to resting her head on his good shoulder and could see the worry behind his smiling eyes. “I know this will make you laugh. Remember the zero-G tests they spring on you at the academy?”

“How could I forget,” responded Janeway, her teeth chattering.

“Well the first time I got surprised by one I had just finished a work out and was in the sonic shower, stripped to the buff.”

Janeway managed a smile at this.

“Needless to say I never made it to my duty post.”

“What stopped you?” asked Janeway, “The zero-g or the lack of clothes?”

“Neither it was the broken leg.”

“Ok, how did you break your leg?”

“When the gravity went off I started to float trying to use my hands to stop, I over compensated shot up fast and knocked myself out on the ceiling. Five minuets later I came round just as the gravity kicked in again, completely unprepared I fell eight feet back to the floor and my leg snapped under me.”

Janeway laughed out load.

“I was in agony!” exclaimed Paris, but secretly happy that he had made his captain laugh, taking her mind off their predicament.

“I’m sorry Tom but it is funny.”

“If you think that’s funny, picture my room mates finding me later in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the shower cubicle.”

Janeway did, and laughed out even loader, this time Paris joined her.


“Dam!” Belanna swore and slapped the console in front of her, “where’s Vorik when you need him?” she muttered before raising her voice up to the computer communications access. “Belanna to Chakotay.”

“Chakotay here Belanna,” came back his strained voice.

“We’ve got a problem,” Belanna reported.

“What kind of a problem?” Chakotay asked calmly.

“We’ve got a ten percent loss of power to our E.P.S, relays, that wasn’t present an hour ago,” explained Belanna, “this could be a start of things to come.”

“Keep an eye on it Belanna, let me know if there’s any increase and be prepared to get under way.” Ordered Chakotay trying not to sound worried for the sake of his fretful chief engineer.

“Aye sir.” Said Belanna, back trying to sound efficient and strong, even though she knew Chakotay wasn’t buying it.

Chakotay looked around Voyagers Bridge and at her crew. After his conversation with Torres all eyes were upon him. “Lieutenant Summers, what’s our communications stasis?”

“We can’t transmit out of a power storm, or through one. Neither can we receive. We might be able to communicate with another ship inside a storm pocket with us, but only if we are awful close.” Clarified Summers. “The good news is so far no actual damage.”

Chakotay nodded then turned his attention to Tuvox..

“Shields are down by ten percent,” said Tuvox before he was asked, “long range sensors are inoperative due to the interference, and short range sensors are working at fifty percent optimal.”

“In other words we are going to have to get dam close to anything to see it as well as talk to it.”

“Correct commander,” said Tuvox, “I would not suggest using any of our weapons either. I could not guarantee their performance or accuracy.”

“Thanks for the warning, I’ll try not to get into any running battles.” said Chakotay, turning to address his con officer, “lieutenant grimes,” a familiar face spun around to great him. Grimes was a good pilot but part of Chakotay ached to see Tom Paris there again, because it would mean Kathryn was back safe at his side, “any problems John?”

“Nothing is registering on my diagnostics,” replied the pilot, “but that could change once we get underway.”

“Understood lieutenant, keep an eye on things, that goes for all of you,” Chakotay did a sweep of his bridge crew confident in their abilities but whishing his friends were back in their place’s. “Ok everyone prepare to bug out! This is a Red Alert.”

As Chakotay sat down in his command chair red lights began flashing all over Voyager, sending in active crew scurrying to their emergency duty stations.


Janeway was sleeping it was her turn, Paris had promised to wake her after 4 hours, relaxed in this knowledge she had rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes and fallen asleep. The first dream Janeway had was of hiding under her fathers desk waiting, curled up snug and warm while he finished his work and came to play with her. In the second dream Janeway was hiding in a forest at night, her phaser drawn, watching and waiting for something. Janeway wasn’t sure what, but it was dangerous and it was out to get her. The third dream was hard to visualise at first, all she saw was a bright light, and then as the light faded she saw faces and heard voices. Some of the faces were familiar and called her name, “Kathryn…Kathryn…….Ka…..”

Janeway awoke in darkness, instantly aware something was wrong. Beneath her Paris lay motionless, “Tom! Nooo!” screamed Janeway as she frantically searched in the pitch-black for the medical kit containing the hypo spray.

Seconds that felt like minuets passed before she found it. Unable to check the dosage in the dark Janeway prayed it hadn’t been disturbed as she quickly felt her way back up Paris body to his neck, where she could get a clear shot into his blood stream.

This time the cordrazine took a few moments to work and Paris wasn’t as alert when he came around.

“I……couldn’t wake you,” said Paris, “the torch went out, I…” The terror relief and fear were too much for Paris to hold back this time and he began to cry, the tears cooling fast on his cheeks.

Janeway felt Paris tremble and even in the dark knew. “It’s ok Tom,” she whispered climbing back under the covers. Paris wrapped his arms around Janeway drawing her and the covers closer. “Each time the paralysis takes over I know your there but I can’t feel you. I was so afraid you wouldn’t wake up. I was afraid you had slipped away from me and lay dieing while I was powerless to do anything.” Paris tried to hold back a heavy sob but failed.

Janeway removed her glove and reached up to touch Paris face. It was wet and cold from the tears. Moving her hand upwards to Paris head, Janeway tousled his unruly hair. “You need a hair cut ensign Paris,” she said, trying to come up with something, anything to take Paris mind off his predicament.

“I’ll get Sandrine to give me a trim when I get back,” replied Paris, attempting to smile through his pain, and glad Janeway couldn’t see him failing miserably in the darkness.

“Tell me another story Tom?” asked Janeway, still determined to get Paris calmed down, “the story of how you got a B- in survival.”

“No……not yet, its not time.” Paris squeezed his eyes tightly shut to stop the tears and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you a tale instead about a dog, a dog called Sally.

” “Sound interesting,” whispered Janeway , resting her head on Paris chest once more and snuggling down into his arms for warmth.

Paris waited for Janeway to get settled then began. “She was an English boarder collie that loved chasing raccoons. One summer when we were all out for the day, she broke free from her tether in the back yard and chased a raccoon down into out basement, through an open trap door. She must have cornered it under a shelf of old paint pots because when we came back the basement, dog and raccoon were literally covered in the stuff. Not one spot in that room didn’t have a multi coloured paw print on it.”

“That must have been quite a sight.” Commented Janeway.

“Yes indeed it was,” agreed Paris, “but guess who got the blame for leaving the trap door open and spent the rest of the summer cleaning it up?”

“You,” ventured Janeway.

“Correct,”

“Did you leave the door open?”

“I don’t remember,” answered Paris wearily.

“That’s ok,” said Janeway, and changed the subject. “One day after a rainstorm Mark and I took Molly for a walk. We tried to steer her away from the park but it didn’t work. Somehow we found ourselves in the middle of a muddy field. Everything would have been ok if Molly hadn’t seen a doggy friend and gone chasing after it.”

“I don’t understand, what happened?” asked Paris.

“Mark was still holding Molly’s leash, as she took off at warp speed he Lost his footing in the mud and ended up getting dragged 200 yards before he could let go.”

“Yuck!” said Paris, chuckling at the vision in his head of Mark covered and dripping in mud. “You know that would make a good holo program. Only we would have to tweak it so that the dog wins every time.”

“And just who would be your first victim?” Janeway asked.

“I’ll tell you only if you promise not to warn them.”

“Cross my heart,” promised Janeway, silently praying they would be found soon. It was getting harder to keep going and Paris time was running out. There was now only 1 shot left in the hypo.


“We’re clearing the edge of the power storm now sir.” Announced lieutenant Grimes from con.

“Stasis report,” asked Chakotay, watching as the forward view screen’s snowstorm cleared to a bad rainy day.

“Long range sensors are inoperable.” Said Tuvox, “Too much interference from the electro magnetic storm pockets, that our short range sensors are currently picking up through out this region of space.”

“Tuvox’s correct sir,” said Grimes, “I’m detecting a dozen large and small power storms across our flight path. Some are stationary others are moving.”

“I think we just hit the monsoon season.” Said Chakotay, checking out the situation from his personal computer link.

“Communications are jumpy,” reported Summers from behind Chakotay.

“Try all bands, see if you can roust anyone,” ordered Chakotay, looking up to Summer’s, Harry Kim would’ve anticipated his order and be one step ahead by now. But he couldn’t fault Summer’s she was a good operations officer.

“No response sir,” said Summer’s after a minuet or two, “I’ll keep you informed.”

“Please do,” said Chakotay, turning his attention and voice to the ships communications, “Belanna how are our engines. I’d like to go too full impulse?”

“No can do.” Replied Belanna.

Chakotay heard raised voices behind her Belanna and sounds of access panels being wrenched open.

“I’m having problems with the driver coil assembly. It’s only giving me 70 percent. We’ll not be able to make full impulse, and I’m going to have to keep her at quarter impulse while I check things out.”

“How long?” asked Chakotay, wondering if he had got it wrong about the Myon’s shields?

“I wish I could say commander,” answered Torres truthfully.

Chakotay heard the worry in her voice and decided not to press it. “I understand, quarter impulse Mr Grimes, steady as she goes.”

“Aye sir.”

For two hours Voyager moved steadily through the Myon system. Zigzagging between planets, running scans and sensor sweeps where they could, Locating Voyagers missing crew by calling them on emergency channels. All the time hails for assistance and information from the Myons were either ignored or answered with a curt, ‘sorry we can’t help you’.

“Helm lay in a course for the Myon home world.” Ordered Chakotay, raising to his feet, “Lieutenant Summers when we get there I want an open channel to the first minister’s office.”

“Aye sir,” said Summer’s.

“If anyone needs me I’ll be in my office,” said Chakotay heading for the bridge exit. Before he could reach it though Neelix’s hailed him.

“Ah! Commander, I’m sorry to bother you at this time but we seem to be having a problem with the replicator's.”

“A problem Mr Neelix?” questioned Chakotay stopping on Voyagers upper bridge deck.

“Yes, involving exploding food.” Explained Neelix.

“Did you say exploding food?” asked Chakotay, puzzled.

In the mess hall Neelix watched ensign Briggs remove a plate of macaroni Cheese from the replicator and place it on a table. Within seconds the macaroni began to expand, then it exploded. Macaroni fragments and cheese gloop flew in every direction as the crew present ducked in vain. Only Naomi Wildman who had hidden beneath the table at the first signs of trouble came up clean.

Wiping cheese gloop from his face Neelix returned his attention to Chakotay. “The air and water molecules in the food are expanding until they burst, creating food bombs.”

“It’s a side effect from the electro magnetic energy,” explained Chakotay, “don’t use the food replicator's anymore.”

“I’ll pass the word around,” said Neelix signing off.

“Well if that’s all,” Chakotay scanned the faces of his crew, no one spoke, “stand us down to yellow alert Tuvox, You have the bridge.” Ordered Chakotay disappearing fast into the turbo lift, before anything else could happen.


“It’s your turn to tell a story,” said Paris Jostling Janeway awake.

“Umm….is it,” replied a sleepy Janeway.

“Y…yes,” Paris teeth chattered as he spoke.

“I can’t think of anything…… give me a topic to choose from?” asked Janeway, trying to come round. “Ok,…….how about that sister of yours, you two get up to anything crazy together.”

“Well their was the time she woke me up by throwing a bucket of cold water over me, but that’s a story for another time.”

“Shame,” said Paris, “it sounded interesting.”

“I think you’ll find this one much more to your liking.” Janeway wiggled into a more comfortable position and then began her story. “One summer when I was about seventeen my father let my sister and me spend a week on a farm in Virginia strawberry picking while he attended a conference nearby.”

“Ah, ha,” commented Paris.

“Shhh,” said Janeway, “It was a really hot summer and the strawberries plentiful, so most of the local town had come out to help. After the first day my back ached and my fingers had turned bright red from the juice but I found the work kind of fun and rewarding.”

“This sounds like slave labour, where does the crazy bit come into it?” asked Paris impatiently.

“On the fourth day my sister came to me mid-afternoon and taking my arm dragged me off into the nearby woods. She said she had a surprise to show me. I was dubious but the woods were cooler than the field. Phoebe led me deeper into the trees then pushed a large bush to one side, beyond in a clearing, surrounded by rocks was a pool of cool, cool water. Without a second thought we stripped off and dived in.”

“You went skinny dipping!” exclaimed Paris.

“Even I was young and foolish once.” Replied Janeway, imagining the silly grin on Paris face, “Anyway we were having so much fun we lost track of the time and didn’t go to climb out until the sun was fading behind the trees. That’s when we noticed our clothes were missing.”

“Missing,” chuckled Paris.

“Yes,” said Janeway, digging Paris in the ribs, and being delighted when he squeaked in pain. “The only things we found were our straw hats perched on the top of two rocks.”

“What did you do?” asked Paris trying to suppress anther chuckle in case Janeway poked him in the ribs again. “There wasn’t much we could do, except check no one was still around and make a run for it. Looking over our shoulders and following every tree line, fence and wall we eventually made it back to the farm bunkhouse. How no one saw us I’ll never know. Everyone at supper that night kept looking at us odd and asking questions of where we had been. But we played it dumb and thought we had got away with it, until the next morning when Phoebe and I both awoke to find we had poison Ivy from head to foot.”

“Ouch,” sympathised Paris.

“Our embarrassment didn’t end there back in the strawberry field that day we found two new scarecrows, dressed in our missing clothes and the farmers two young sons standing proudly beside them grinning from ear to ear. It turned out they had been the ones to tell my sister about the pool in the first place.”

Paris laughed out loud, his voice echoing around the cavern. Janeway forgot the rib poking and joined in, laughing as loud as Paris. They laughed like that together until fatigue overcame them and they fell asleep.


Seven and Harry had worked their way slowly through the many asteroids, planets and moons along the heading they had been given. Carefully searching each one for signs of the Drake or a Starfleet combadge signal. This all took time and the storms hampered their efforts every step of the way. Harry was harbouring thoughts of failure when they found a fragment of an iron trial leading towards an ice moon deep within an electro magnetic storm pocket.

“How the hell are we going to find them down there?” asked Harry exasperated, “our sensors can’t penetrate deep enough from this distance and any closer they would be useless.”

“We could try looking for a different target,” suggested Lieutenant Wildman.

“Samantha’s right,” said Seven, “unless circumstances prevent them the captain and Paris would have stayed with the shuttle.”

“And if they crashed the automatic locator will have been activated,” finished Samantha, “It’s a highly shielded self contained unit, it should still be functioning even in the middle of that.”

“I’d have to fly us dreadfully low to pick up a signal through the interference.” Said Kim.

“No problem,” came back Seven a plan already formulated in her mind. “We’ll divide the moon into sections, sweep in scan an area for the locator then pull out again,” said Seven, “The less time we spend inside the storm the better.”

Sam and Harry exchanged looks, both of them trusted Sevens plan but it would consume a great deal of time, and time was becoming a luxury for both the lost and the searchers.

“Ok Seven,” agreed Harry, “lets give it a go.”

Voyager had been orbiting the Myon home world for half an hour, in that time there had been no response to her hails and Chakotay was losing his patience fast. After taking over two hours too pick up stranded crew and reach the planet he wasn’t in the mood for a stand off.

Tuvox had already informed him of the impossibility of beaming down through their planetary shields and Belanna had discouraged him against using one of their remaining shuttles in case it to malfunctioned, which left Chakotay with only one option.

“Lock phasers on their main shield generator,” ordered Chakotay.

“Commander we can not fire our phasers with any accuracy,” said Tuvox, “You would be risking lives.” “They don’t know that,” replied Chakotay, “open me a channel lieutenant Summers,” Chakotay stood and pulled his uniform tidy, which was pointless considering the Myons didn’t have visual communications and going by the mess of Voyagers view screen it was easy to work out why. “This is commander Chakotay of the Federation star ship Voyager to the First Minister, you have 30 of your time frames to respond before I open fire.”

25 time frames later a flustered voice came over the open channel. “Ah commander Chakotay this is Ambassador Albion, First Minister Dantion asked me to talk with you.”

“Then talk,” said Chakotay, “before I loose my patience and open fire on one of your precious shield generators.

“That wont be necessary,” begged the ambassador, “On behalf of the Ministers I sincerely apologise for any diplomatic misconduct. And I personally apologise to Captain Janeway for any misunderstanding that may have occurred between us.”

Chakotay looked at Tuvox, hoping for an explanation. Tuvox shook his head.

“Misunderstanding! That’s not exactly how my Captain put it, ambassador.” Said Chakotay bluffing it, “perhaps you would like to put your side of the story?”

“It was nothing,” said the ambassador grovelling, “my hand slipped that’s all. There was no intent……no…..no insult. Your ensign can vouch for that, he saw it.”

Chakotay smirked; he had a fair idea of what had happened, and how he could turn it to his advantage. “Captain Janeway is in her quarters deciding upon what to do. An incident such as this would not look well for your career or marriage if it got out,” Chakotay tried not to smile as he spoke.

“I would do anything to make amends,” fawned the ambassador. “If we could just keep this between ourselves?”

“Anything?” asked Chakotay

. “Anything.” Begged Albion.

“Then tell us, where our people and missing shuttles are,” bellowed Chakotay sternly.

“Your people are at the medical centre on Diaxis Four,” said Albion, spewing out the words like a confession. “Except for two of your shuttles and crew. One is lost in the third quadrant, an area that is experiencing terrible storms. They may have landed on one of the uninhabited moons or asteroids of that region, they could still be ok.”

Chakotay pictured the ambassador kneeling on the floor grovelling for forgiveness. “And the other shuttle?”

“Ah yes the Delta Flyer, a sturdy ship,” said Albion, “she went in search of the other missing shuttle.”

“Have you heard any word from them?” asked Chakotay, indicating at the same time for his crew to make course changes and try contacting the Delta Flyer.

“No….none.” said Albion, apologetically.

“Thank you ambassador, I will be checking this information out and getting back to you,” said Chakotay. “And ambassador?”

“Yes!”

“You can tell your first, second and third minister that I am fully aware of their shield technology situation and if I don’t find my people I will be back with my phaser's primed and ready.”

“I will inform them,” said Albion with fear in his voice. “Good day to you commander.”

Albion cut the communication and Chakotay whisked around at his crew, “Summers anything?”

“No contact sir,” she shook her head slowly.

“Grimes lay in a course for Diaxis Four.”

“What of the Captain and Paris?” asked Tuvox.

“Sevens on their trail, well catch up with them,” replied Chakotay, “first I want to pick up our injured crew. I’m not leaving them at the mercy of Myon medical technology.”


Janeway lay quietly wrapped in Paris arms and thought about getting the torch’s from down the tunnel so they could have some light again. But thinking was all she did it had long since become too cold to move from beneath the covers.

Paris had his own thoughts on the darkness, and after an hour in which he became aware of the progressive loss of sensation to his toes, then feet, he had come to the conclusion that time did indeed pass much slower in the dark.

Paris thoughts were also on the condition of Janeway. She hadn’t said one word about her own frost bite and Paris knew if Kathryn Janeway didn’t complain it meant things were bad. He could have asked but Paris didn’t want to put her in a position where she would feel the need to lie.

A short while ago after waking up in the dark, they had been singing songs together to stay active, but fatigue and a short repertoire had concluded any further concerts. Paris had apologised for his lack of singing talent and joked that the doctor could have serenaded Janeway for hours without singing the same song twice. Janeway told Paris, ‘she would rather have him, with his terrible stories and out of tune ditties because he was warmer.’ Tom Paris didn’t feel warm.


Voyager manoeuvred in space gracefully and majestically, before swiftly moving away from the Myon home world. Trying not to look at the empty seat beside him Chakotay retook his command chair. Janeway’s absence bothered him more than he would care to acknowledge. Her presence at his side through times of trouble and conflict was reassuring at best and comfortable for the rest.

“Torres to bridge,” came the chief engineers voice over ship communications, “Chakotay,” she called again, after receiving no response.

Chakotay blinked, rubbed his eyes and rolled away the thoughts in his head of finding Janeway dead. “Sorry Belanna, go ahead.”

“We have a problem,” she said, worry in her voice betraying the seriousness, “A big one.”

“Give it to me straight,” said Chakotay leaning back in his seat and listening.

“The power loss in the fuel coil I told you about, its getting worse not better,” explained Torres, “the more we use the impulse engines the more energy she louse’s. Its as if we have a leak but I can’t find it to plug it.”

“How long can we maintain impulse?” asked Chakotay, trying to stay calm.

“At least another day, two at most. But we wont be going very fast by the end.” Belanna sounded apologetic, Just what the doctor ordered thought Chakotay, “Keep us going the best you can Belanna,” he said, reassuringly, “We’ll do our bit at this end.”

“Aye sir,” said Belanna, unconvinced.

Chakotay sat up straight, “Lieutenant Summers, start cutting power to non-essential systems, Tuvox seal off and cut life support to all non-essential areas and decks. Mr Grimes we can’t waste anymore time, I want a course as direct as you can make it.”

Grimes nodded his head and secretly wished it was Paris at the helm on this one, “That would take us through several heavy power storms sir.”

“I know lieutenant, just do the best you can,” said Chakotay, rising out of his chair to give the worried pilot a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Aye sir,” said Grimes, his confidence boasted.

“Ok everyone lets tighten our belts,” called Chakotay looking around at his crew, who were busily working, and feeling proud.

“Commander,” called the doctor over Chakotay's personnel computer interface, “you don’t intend to shut me down do you?”

“We tried that once,” replied Chakotay smiling, “It didn’t work.”

“Good, because I just received my first patient,” explained the doctor. “A very anxious Naomi Wildman.”

“Is she ok?” asked Chakotay.

“Physically yes, I think she just needs a little reassuring.”

“The jobs all yours doctor,” said Chakotay, making a mental note to have him double check in on Belanna as soon as it was safe. “I hope your safe too Kathryn,” Chakotay whispered to himself as he returned to his seat and surveyed the rainstorm ahead.


After 28 hours in freezing temperatures staying awake for any length of time became impossible for either Janeway or Paris. Instead they drifted in and out of sleep, each one checking on the other at intervals. Sometimes Janeway would lie awake listening in the darkness for signs of digging or voices calling out to them, other times Paris would lie awake listening to Janeway breathing, while checking on his own for signs of the cordrazine wearing off. Paris had stashed the hypo spray up his sleeve for safety and easy access. But when the hour came to use it, he was other wise engaged.

Paris had awaken to find Janeway sleeping soundlessly. Too soundlessly, worried he tried to wake her but she wouldn’t stir. Paris worst fear had happened. He’d relaxed his vigilance and Janeway unable to resist the cold anymore, had slipped into a hypothermia coma.

“Kathryn wake up! Come on please,” screamed Paris, for the third time, while shaking Janeway vigorously. Paris was one step away from slapping her face when he felt the paralysing toxins taking over his body. Robbed of speech and breath, fumbling in his panic, Paris extracted the hypo from his sleeve. The doctor had taught him how to use one under battle conditions, ‘i.e.: in the dark.’ This came in handy as Paris blindly adjusted the setting, then gasping for air with lungs that wouldn’t co-operate with what his brain was telling them, Paris pressed the hypo to his wrist and activated it. He then placed the same hypo spray to Janeway's neck and activated it again.

Instantly Janeway's eyes shot open. She couldn’t see the hypo spray in the dark but she could feel it against her neck and worked out what Paris had done.

“Tom you needed that! Why?”

“Half each,” said Paris, tossing the spent hypo spray aside. “You were fading on me…..I couldn’t live and let you die.”

“What happens in four hours when the cordrazine wears off?”

“Eight, four hours, does it really matter,” replied Paris. “No ones going to find us.”

“Don’t say that, don’t believe that,” Janeway begged, but inside her heart she was losing hope as well.

“I have to tell you a story,” said Paris. “It’s important.”

Janeway half suspected what the topic was, “Ok Tom,” she said softly, making herself comfortable in the crook of Paris arm once more.

“Once upon a time,” began Paris, which raised a chuckle out of Janeway until he jabbed her in the ribs. “There were two young cadets, a male and a female human, who just didn’t get along. It was like cat and mouse between them. One training officer saw what was going on and instead of splitting them up, he put them together on a test. He stranded the two cadets on an iced moon, gave them minimal survival gear and one days worth of rations. He then told them they had 48 hours to make it to the beam out co-ordinates. If they didn’t make it on time the rescue shuttle would leave without them.”

Janeway was quiet as Paris paused to clear his throat. “Well as you can imagine nothing went right from the start. The female cadet insisted on splitting the rations between them, while the male cadet took charge of the single tricorder they had. This led to arguments as to which way to go, that eventually after half a day led to them going their separate ways. The first night out was fair and the two cadets both made it through but the morning brought snow and fierce winds. By midday the male was within reach of the beam out co-ordinates, but celebrating wasn’t on his mind, the fate of the female cadet was. He couldn’t leave her, no matter how much he hated her. The cadet turned around readjusted the tricorder to pick up her life signs and set out.”

Again Paris paused, but Janeway was silently listening. “It was night fall before he located her, she had found a small recess in the lee side of a mountain and curled up. The male cadet crawled in with her; she was freezing. Neither of them had any means to light a fire and the morning snow had resumed. Determined not to let her die after giving up his chance of rescue, the male cadet put his feeling of animosity aside and moved closer to the female. Being a gentleman he kissed her tenderly and asked most politely if they could make love to keep warm.”

“What did she say?” asked Janeway breaking her silence.

“She kneed him in the genitals, pushed him out of the shelter into the snow and told him “to go freeze to death.”

Unable to resist a giggle Janeway buried her face into Paris shoulder to try and stifle it.

“The story doesn’t end there,” said Paris, “just as the male cadet was about to tell the female how ungrateful she was and how he wouldn’t touch her if she paid him in gold pressed latinum, both of them were whisked away by transporter beams to a warm cosy shuttle. Starfleet had been keeping tabs on them all the time ready to pull them out if they got into any real danger. Because neither of them had made it to the co-ordinates they both received an F. When the male cadet argued that he had nearly made it and deserved a better grade, the training officer explained that his proper course of action, would have been to get to the beam out sight, wait for the rescue shuttle then….”

“…Direct them to where they could find the other cadet,” said Janeway finishing of Paris story.

“See that’s why you’re a Captain and I’m not,” said Paris laughing.

“So how did an F, become a B-?” asked Janeway, revealing that she knew the male cadet in question had been Paris all along.

“After that, no matter how many A’s I got the F just kept pulling my grade down.”

“And you blame your father because he arranged the survival test.”

“It was a test of character not survival and he knew I would fail.”

“You didn’t fail, you just didn’t get enough time to succeed.”

“No, just enough time to make a mess of everything as usual,” said Paris angrily.

“Your plan might have worked,” said Janeway reassuringly.

“What? Making love to keep warm, its not recommended by Starfleet.”

“No, but it could be worth a try, what do you think?”

“Captain!” Paris wasn’t sure if he had heard Janeway correctly.

“We are out of options Tom.”

“No we’re not, and it’s not an option anyway.”

“Why, because I’m your captain?”

“No because……because I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” Janeway brushed her lips against Paris, “our secret,” she whispered.

“C……Captain!….I.”

“Shush,” said Janeway, increasing the pressure on Paris mouth for a second kiss. “And call me Kay.”

Paris felt the heat of Janeway's lips and recalled the shadow of a memory he had long ago forgotten. He knew she was right they were out of options and in 3 hours he would be dead from the poisons rampaging through his system. If he could give his Captain a boost to keep her alive until someone found her, he had to try.

“Our secret Kay,” said Paris, taking Janeway in his arms.

Sometime later a heart stopped beating but even in his frozen slumber Paris knew it wasn’t his.


The Delta Flyer’s small crew looked wearily at the schematics of a tiny moon. They had covered over two thirds of their search area and were beginning to wonder if they were searching in vain. Especially considering all the interference made distinguishing a rock from a living creature virtually impossible. Seven had her hopes pinned on picking up the shuttles locator signal. Harry Kim had described the chance as a long shot in the dark. But Seven was determined not to stop looking until they had either covered every square inch of the moon’s surface or the Flyer’s engines gave up.

“Section 23 by 104 ……negative, section 24 by 104………negative,” Seven read out the numbers allowed, “section 26 by 104……neg…..wait……we’ve found them.”

Lieutenant Wildman flipped switches and tapped keys in front of her until the moons schematic enlarged enough to show a green flashing blip. “It’s fait but it’s a federation signal alright.”

“Get us closer Harry,” ordered Seven.

“I’ll try,” said Harry, manoeuvring the Flyer around for another run at the moon’s surface.

“Seven watched from her station as the electro magnetic readings climbed above tolerance levels.

“I’m losing the signal,” called Wildman.

“Pull us back Harry,” ordered Seven.

Kim skimmed the Flyer off the moon’s outer atmosphere then pulled away sharply, taking them back up and out of the storm before levelling off.

“The signals back called Samantha. “What happened, why did we loose it?”

“The closer we get the stronger the electromagnetic effects on the Delta Flyer,” explained Seven. “If we go down there, we’ll lose all trace of the shuttle’s signal and probably ourselves as well.”

“This baby can take it,” said Harry, proudly.

“Maybe, and maybe we will crash just like Mr Paris and the captain did.” Said Seven, rounding on the defenceless ensign.” We will have to effect a rescue from a safe distance.”

“How?” asked Samantha, “You can’t transport through that lot.”

“We’ll have to use the tractor beam.”

“But before you said we couldn’t,” said Wildman.

“There is a risk, but at this juncture we have no other choice.” Seven looked at Samantha then Harry.

“Anyone have any other plan up their proverbial sleeve?”

Harry and Samantha shook their heads.

“If I increase the rotation of our shields it might give us the extra protection we’ll need but it will put a strain on our systems. Keep a close eye on things for me Samantha, Harry take us as close as you can get,” Seven spoke with confidence but inside she was full of doubts and fear, fear that they were too late.

Chakotay watched Voyagers view screen, the rainy day picture of planets and distant stars looked as bleak as he felt. In the last 12 hours they had picked up 24 more crew from Diaxis four, but lost another 10 percent of their shield integrity, 20 percent of impulse power and life support on 8 decks. On top of all that Neelix was down to serving cold meals on the holo deck, after the power relays to the mess hall over loaded and set fire to half of the place before the fire suppression systems kicked in. Chakotay needed something to lift his mood and the crew’s spirits before they fell apart with the ship.

“Commander,” squealed Lieutenant Summers, “I’ve found the Delta Flyer.”

“Where?”

“She’s in orbit around an ice moon 200 degrees to our starboard.”

“Good work lieutenant, turn us about Mr Grimes,” ordered Chakotay. “Tuvox how the hell did we miss them?”

“The moon is acting as a catalyst for the electro magnetic energy, until the Delta Flyer flew clear of the storms effects she was invisible to our sensors.” Explained Tuvox.

“Are they in any danger?” asked Chakotay suddenly concerned for the little ship and his friends.

“There is too much interference to ascertain their stasis from this distance,” answered Tuvox, “we would have to get closer.”

“Chakotay,” called Belanna, form engineering I wouldn’t recommend we get too close to that moon for too long. The electro magnetic readings coming from her are very worrying to say the least.”

“Recommendation received,” said Chakotay, “plan B, we go in fast, grab the Delta Flyer then get out of here.”


Harry Kim felt the steering panel beneath his hands shudder as he entered the moons atmosphere. Sevens shield adjustments had worked to some degree, giving them a few extra feet before the lost shuttles signal faded.

“That’s enough Harry,” yelled Samantha, “level her off.”

“We’ll have to be exactly over the shuttle to get maximum power to the tractor beam,” said Seven.

Kim using the Flyers thrusters turned her slowly and eased her over the Drakes co0ordinated. Without sensor readings or a visual, homing in on the Drakes transponder was all they had to go on. This meant they would have to use a wide beam, just in case the shuttle had broken up upon landing. . “Any life signs at this distance?” asked Harry.

“Still nothing, I’m afraid,” said Samantha, “my readings are mostly garbled rubbish.”

“Shields down by 10 percent,” called Seven, “we can’t stay too close for long.”

“I’m over target …… now!” yelled Harry.

Seven activated the Delta’s tractor beam and a shaft of energy unfurled from her belly.

“Hold her steady Mr Kim,”

Ensign Kim was battling against the storms powerful forces with his fingers crossed, so holding things steady wasn’t that easy.

“We hit target!” Yelled Samantha.

“We did, but the tractor beam’s not locking on to the shuttle,” said Seven, trying to increase the power flow. “Attempting to raise it.”

“Seven what if she’s not in one piece?” asked Harry. “There’s no oxygen at this atmospheric level.”

“All we have to do is get the shuttle close enough to use the transporter.” Said Seven. “If the captain and Paris are in there we can pull them out then drop the Drake.”

“These readings are nuts,” said Samantha, “it’s almost as if the shuttle was under ground.”

Seven looked at he readings Samantha was getting from the tractor beam. “Not under ground, under water.”

“Pull her up Seven, Now!” yelled Harry.

“I’m trying Mr Kim,” said Seven, “she wont budge. I need more power. The strength of our tractor beam diminishes the closer it gets to the planet. The Delta Flyer just isn’t strong enough. We need Voyager.”

Seven had no sooner uttered the words ‘we need Voyager,’ when a huge shadow passed over them.

“I don’t believe it.” Said Harry Kim watching as lights beneath the hulk of the ship passing over them played along a set of numbers and words, ‘USS VOYAGER NCC 74656.’

“Well its about time is all I can say,” said Lieutenant Wildman.

“Can you raise them on communications?” asked Seven.

“This close no problem,” said Samantha, opening a channel.

“Delta Flyer to Voyager, are we glad to see you."

We are glad to see you too.” Came back Chakotays voice, “Need a hand Seven?” he asked.

“Indeed we do commander,” Seven replied, “The captain’s shuttle is on the moon directly below us held in our tractor beam. But we do not have the power to raise it.”

“No problem Seven,” said Belanna Torres over the com-system from engineering. “Wait for us to take the strain then back off, once we’ve got her up you can tow the Drake straight into shuttle bay two.”

“Understood Lieutenant,” replied Seven, “But be advised she may not be in one piece and so far we have picked up no life signs. Be prepared for an emergency beam out of survivors.”

“I read you loud and clear Seven.” Replied Belanna as she activated Voyagers tractor beam. Belanna felt calmer now she was able to do something. But the great whole in her stomach rumbled with pain as she thought about what they might find inside the downed shuttle. “Toms a good pilot,” she told herself. “He’s with the captain, he’ll be ok.” Belanna kept repeating the words to herself like a pray chant as she lifted the wreck of the Drake off the moon.

On Voyagers bridge Chakotay said his own set of preys as he ran the scrambled sensors over the Drake.

“There are no life signs,” said Tuvox, “Neither am I picking up the captain and Mr Paris combadges.”

“They must have got out. Said Chakotay rising to his feet. “The question is before or after they crashed?”


The Captain and Mr Paris have been missing for 48 hours now. Two hours ago we located their empty shuttle at the bottom of a frozen lake on an M class ice moon. It has taken so long to find anything due to the Electro Magnetic storms that proliferate this region of space and surround the moon. Not only do the storms mask iron trails but cause immediate power drainage in anything that encounters them for too long. It’s our belief that the Captains shuttle lost contact with us after getting caught by a storm front, and losing power was forced to land.

“They got out alive commander.” Ensign Kim’s voice came over the intercom from Voyagers shuttle bay, “The emergency hatch is blown and there are two survival packs missing.”

“Thanks Harry.” Acknowledged Chakotay

“At this time of year the temperature of Myon’s moon drops -40 below freezing during its long nights and barely reach’s above –10 in the 6 hours of daylight.” said Seven of Nine, reading from the Myon data information she had collected.

“Meaning what Seven,” asked Chakotay.

“Meaning if they didn’t find shelter I doubt if we will find them alive.”

Chakotay took a deep breath turned away from Seven and tapped his combadge, “Belanna any progress on breaking through the atmospheric interference to track their comsignals?”

“Not at this distance,” came back Belanna’s frustrated voice.

“I can’t risk taking Voyager any closer.”

“What about the Delta Flyer,” suggested Belanna, “She’s well shielded.”

“True, but once inside the moons atmosphere her sensors would be severely handicapped, we could fly right over Paris and the Captain and not detect them.”

“So it’s down to a ground search,” sighed Belanna.

“Commander,” Harry Kim called from the shuttle bay, “We could travel down too the moon in the Delta Flyer, then go on foot, leaving her standing by for a quick evac.”

“Sounds good Harry get her ready. Belanna, can you shield some tricorder's from the magnetic power drain?”

“Sure but it will limit their range down to a few hundred feet.”

“That will have to do.”

“A foot search will take some time,” reminded Tuvox.

“Then the sooner we start the better,” Chakotay slapped his combadge again. “Tuvox, Seven, Harry pick a team each and meet me in shuttle bay two, dress for cold weather.”

“Commander what about me?” asks Belanna.

“Sorry Belanna I’m leaving you in charge up here on this one. No arguments, that’s an order,” Chakotay speaks with concern for Belanna, he’s afraid what she might do upon finding Tom Paris frozen corpse, especially as they had argued just before he had left to pick up the Captain.

“Doctor you will have to stay here too we don’t know what this storm stuff would do to your mobile emitter.”

“But what if they are injured, you need me.”

“Seven is trained in basic triage we will get them back to you as soon as we can.”


Down in shuttle bay two, four teams of five geared up for the Arctic conditions of Myon’s moon stood quietly as Belanna handed out shielded tricorder's. As she gives Chakotay his she whispered, “find him.”

Chakotay nodded to her then signals for everyone to board the Flyer. The Delta Flyer is normally a spacious girl but with twenty crew on board, she felt a little claustrophobic to Chakotay especially with Tuvox standing next to his pilot seat peering over his shoulder. Tuvox had questioned Tom Paris use of Manuel switches in the Delta Flyer but Chakotay liked the feel of them beneath his hands. Although he would never admit it to anyone least of all the stoic Vulcan or the hot shot pilot.

Addressing Tuvox, Chakotay asked. “How far do you think they could have got in 48 hours?”

“Not very far Commander, if they didn’t find shelter within the 6 hours of daylight they would have froze to death.”

“Assuming they had the full 6 hours of course.”

“Naturally.”

“Ok folks,” Chakotay threw his voice to the back of the shuttle, “Six hours at best speed of 1km an hour gives us a search radius of 6km, you each have the tricorder's Belanna rigged with insulation to prevent power loss but don’t rely on them, use your eyes and your feet. They could be buried or hiding be vigilant.

As they neared the moon Electro magnetic storms rattled the Delta Flyer and sucked at her shields but she held fast and resisted. A testimony to the guy she was on her way to rescue.

“Sensors are down to basics,” reported Ensign Kim, “If there's anything alive down there I can't tell.”

“Don’t worry Harry,” calls Chakotay, “I'm getting the same up here, landing this baby is going to be a little rough. It’s no wonder Paris and the Captain crashed.”

It’s hard to believe that this frozen waste land is green and fertile during its summer." Comments ensign Leach from behind Seven.

"The Myon's grow crops up here and pick fruit from its dense orchards," informs Seven, "they also hunt." "Hunt what?"

"That information was not available."

"Let's hope it's just Jack rabbits."


With a mixture of luck, skill and a well designed ship Chakotay was able to land very close to where the Captain and Paris had come down. Deploying his search teams with 4 hours of daylight left he was hopeful of finding them and getting back off the moon again before nightfall. He didn't dare hope that they would find them alive.

After two hours of searching Chakotay was still hopeful but he knew many of his fellow searchers were not. "Harry anything?" he asked tapping his combadge, glad of the in-built shielding that allowed them to function.

"Not even a Jack rabbit."

"Seven?"

"I have found signs of large carnivorous animals, but so far nothing resembling the Captain or Paris."

"How large?"

"Earth Kodak bear size I would say at a guess."

"Damm! That’s all they need, Tuvox?"

"The terrain here is very rocky, it is taking time to search each fissure. Also the metal ore in the rocks is making them impervious to our scans."

"Search carefully Tuvox, very carefully," resuming his own search Chakotay looked to the sky, time was running out for them all.


Seven picked up the Captains combadge first but only by chance between the handicapped tricorder's and the magnetic rocks the signal was almost completely hidden. The combadge itself was buried under ten feet of snow from an avalanche. On hearing the news Chakotay ordered Harry back to fetch the Delta Flyer, then he joined Tuvox to catch up with Seven.

By the time they reached her, Seven and her team were frantically digging in the snow. Suddenly up from the hole came a cry, "I've found it."

A hand held aloft a piece of torn uniform, Chakotay retrieved it. In side was Captain Janeway's combadge. He didn't have to ask the words forming in his head, Tuvox beat him to it.

"Commander there is no body."

"She left this here for a reason, like a marker," pulling out his own tricorder Chakotay did a sweep of the area, "There's a cave over here the tricorder can't reach to far in but if they made it here before the avalanche it would have made a perfect shelter."

Tuvox, Seven and as many crew as could fit started moving snow away from the cave entrance area. The chance that their friends were still alive just increased.

Harry brought the Delta Flyer down in a clearing 200 yards from the rescue sire. Upon receiving Chakotays communiqué he had raced his team back to her at the double. They raced again to join the digging. Which was progressing slowly. Hours had compacted the snow and ice boulders blocked the path. Everyone secretly wished for a working phaser. Chakotay toyed with the idea of blasting the cave entrance from the Delta Flyer but as Tuvox pointed out, that would put anyone in the cave in danger or even cause another avalanche, So he tossed it aside.

With barely any light left Chakotay ordered Harry's team to replicate them some old fashioned burning torches, anything else would have been powerless in minutes. By the light of the flames Chakotay noticed Seven stumble and stepped over to catch her arm.

"Commander I feel week," Seven explained.

"Damm," Chakotay cursed, "the magnetic pulse must be effecting your Borg implants. Ensign Leach escort Seven back to the Delta Flyer, if her condition gets worse inform me immediately. Seven I'm sorry I didn't anticipate this."

"Your only error commander was thinking of me as a human not a Borg, you have nothing to apologise for." Chakotays mind flashed with a picture of Janeway praising him and chastising him at the same time for his error.

It was dark and the temperature had dropped dramatically. Briefly Tuvox shivered in his thick warm coat, then thinking of Janeway perhaps lying frozen too death in the dark cave he resisted another shiver, pulled out his tricorder and scanned the digging efforts. As he did Chakotay now at the front of the digging called out.

"Where through, quick bring me a torch." Flaming torch in hand Chakotay peered through the hole he had made, "It's a tunnel not a cave about eight by six," his voice echoed slightly, "It turns after a few feet."

"That would be sufficient to block our scans from here," commented Tuvox.

Tossing his torch inside Chakotay widened the entrance so he could crawl through. Harry. Tuvox and five others crawled after him leaving the rest to clear the entrance behind them and guard it. No one had seen one of Sevens 'bears' yet, but they had noticed fresh tracks and animal remains in the near by woods.

The tunnel did indeed turn, in fact twice before finally opening into a chamber. The walls of the tunnel, which looked to have been carved out by hand, had torch brackets fixed to them every several yards. Some of the torches were missing, some showed signs of recently being used and others had been burnt down to useless stumps.

"This was probably built by the Myon's as a shelter for their hunting party's." guessed Harry Kim.

Further inspection of the chamber they now entered proved him right. It was about the size of Voyagers bridge but oblong in shape, earthen pots, spoilt food and ripped furs were scattered across the floor. Chakotay picked up a piece of fur.

"Sevens bear's," he queried looking back a Tuvox who raised his eyebrows in agreement.

Harry Kim progressed further into the cavern raising his torch so the light reached the far end. He saw at one side a built up area where a fire had once burnt but was now just a pile of ashes, next to it was a mound of furs, next to the furs was a Starfleet survival pack. Without a word Harry ran to the pack, Chakotay not too far behind him.

Tuvox took a more cautious stance and scanned the chamber first, "Commander I'm picking up human life signs."

"Where?” asked Chakotay.

"I believe from under those animal pelts."

Chakotay yanked back the furs, beneath curled up face down and dressed in similar furs was a body, one shoulder matted with blood. Harry slowly removed the body's fur hood to reveal the head below, it was Tom Paris.

"Is he alive?" Chakotay asked not daring to check for himself.

"I have a faint heartbeat showing on my tricorder but that is all the body is almost frozen."

"Where's the Captain ?" asked Lieutenant Dolby from the other end of the cave.

Everyone looked around the ramshackle cave except Tuvox. Instead he bent down and removed the lower part of the furs covering Paris and counted feet, there were four. "Captain Janeway is here commander."

Chakotay reached over Paris and moved his head carefully to one side. Hidden in the crook of Paris arm was the top of Janeways head. "Are you sure there is only one heartbeat?" he asked.

Tuvox moved closer and took another scan. His faced showed confusion about the only expression apart from surprise a Vulcan can make, "My tricorder must be malfunctioning due to the proximity of the rocks, it reads only one body, one heart rate."

"Frozen together," remarks Harry Kim.

"I would suggest," continues Tuvox, "that you do not attempt to separate them."

"We will carry them outside together," said Chakotay covering the Captain and Paris up again. "Harry bring the Delta Flyer overhead and low so you can beam us up through the interference."

"Aye sir," said Harry and scurried away, breaking into a run once out of Chakotay's sight.

Many hands made light work of carrying Paris and the Captain out of the tunnels. Near the entrance Chakotay's foot kicked against something, looking down he saw a Starfleet phaser with a combadge attached to the power pack. He guessed it to be Paris as they already had the Captains. Deftly Chakotay scooped it up the power had been drained from the shielded combadge to work the phaser but why? Chakotay hoped his friends would live to tell him.


Once out side Chakotay called up to Harry in the Delta Flyer hovering above them at tree level. Paris had been giving Kim extra piloting lessons and from what Chakotay could see they had paid off, "Are you ready to transport."

"Ensign Kim is a little occupied at the moment,” came back Sevens voice, "I will be handling the transport." "Seven are you ok?" asked Chakotay concerned.

"I will need to regenerate but I am functioning perfectly commander. I can only beam you up in small groups, I suggest the Captain and Paris first."

"Understood, give us a moment to stand back then energise."

Chakotay watched as the transporter whisked them away furs and all, only to join them again seconds later as Seven deposited him and Tuvox next to them on the bridge of the Delta Flyer. As he materialised Chakotay saw, more to his astonishment than anger the 'Doctor'. The EMH doctor, complete with mobile emitter that he had ordered to stay behind on Voyager.

"Doctor!" Chakotay exclaimed once his speech had returned.

"I stowed away," the doctor answered very matter of fact, while busying himself running a scanner over his patients.

"I will beam the rest of the crew to Delta's hold" informed Seven to anyone who was listening. Tuvox was and nodded a confirmation to her.

Chakotay knelt down opposite the doctor, "We will discuss your breach of orders later in the mean time how are they?" He wanted to ask which one was still alive but the knot in his stomach wouldn't let him.

"I don't know, I'm reading a very slow heart rate and shallow breathing but I can't tell from which one." The doctor fumbled in his med-kit and produced cortical monitor, placing it on the back of Paris head he took another scan.

Everyone was silent, their own heartbeats as audible in their ears as the doctors tricorder bleeps. "I can confirm Mr Paris is not breathing nor does he have a pulse," faces dropped around the small ships bridge, "But he is not dead."

"NOT DEAD!" exclaimed Seven for everyone.

"I am picking up extreme brain activity, its almost as if Mr Paris body has gone into hibernation………No that’s not quite right more like some kind of suspension………. Oho…Quick commander decrease the temperature in here we must keep them cold. If the Captain warms up too fast she will go into synaptic shook."

"Can you revive Tom," asks an anxious Kim.

"Perhaps, it all depends on whether I can restart his heart and what shape his lungs are in. Prepare yourself we may lose Tom yet."

"And Captain Janeway," probes Tuvox.

"It's hard to tell, the fact that she is still alive at all is a miracle."


The return flight to Voyager was as turbulent as the flight down. Chakotay let Harry Kim handle the controls while he watched the doctor monitoring the Captains life signs. He was also aware of the subdued yet relived emotions of the crew around him and in the Delta's hold.

Once safely back in Voyagers shuttle bay the doctor asked Seven to transport Janeway and Paris still together over to sickbay. "I won't be able to split them until they 'thaw' out," the doctor explained, "But when you do the transport can you turn them over so Captain is on top, I'm finding it hard to monitor her condition half buried beneath Mr Paris."

"That should not be a problem," agreed Seven turning to her transporter controls.

"Oh and Seven," said the doctor, "I would be grateful for your assistance in sickbay, seeing as my chief nurse is one of my patients."

Seven looked to Chakotay for permission, he nodded ok, "very well doctor I will join you shortly," she answered then activated the transporter.


It took the doctor an hour to thaw out the Captain and Paris enough to separate them. Belanna took one look at the two of them wrapped together on the diagnostic bed and fled. Chakotay on the other hand wouldn't leave, preferring to keep a watchful eye on Seven and the doctor. Paris condition never changed and the Doctor couldn't work out how or why he was in a state of stasis. As for the Captain, once warmed up, apart from severe frostbite, (completely treatable) she was fine. Medically as the female and the smaller of the two she should have been dead. The doctor put her survival down to the efforts of Tom Paris, what ever they had been. Seven said it probably had more to do with the fact that the Captain was wearing a Starfleet issue thermal survival suit, were as Mr Paris was clad only in the native furs for warmth.

Which was puzzling, as Harry had reported 2 survival packs missing from the downed shuttle. Another question for Chakotay to ask Janeway when she woke.


"Any progress with Tom Doc?" asked Harry entering sickbay.

It was now three hours past rescue, Belanna had returned with a little gentle persuasion from Chakotay and was standing by Tom’s side,

“I've repaired the kidney and liver damage, along with the frostbite,” explained the doctor to Harry, “I've also repaired a wound on Mr Paris shoulder. But I can’t get him to breathe again on his own or stabilise a heartbeat. I’ve tried everything; his system just keeps shutting down. I’m afraid if his condition doesn’t improve brain damage could occur.”

Across the silence of Voyagers sickbay a small voice spoke, “Have you checked Tom for toxins.”

“Kathryn!” Chakotay called out Captain Janeways name joyfully, as he moved closer to her side. Taking Janeways hand in his he squeezed it gently, a touch that conveyed more than words.

The doctor crossed to Janeway's and did a quick check of her monitors, “You are going to be fine Captain but why should I check Mr Paris for toxins?”

“He was poisoned when the beast clawed his shoulder open. Test the damaged tissue for……paralysing agents,” Janeway was tied and barely able to talk.

“Of course, its not usually found in larger animals,” the doctor returned to Paris excitedly.

“What isn’t,” asked Harry and Belanna at the same time.

“Many creatures emit poisons that cause paralysis in the victims without killing them, thus keeping them alive and fresh until ready to eat.”

As he talked the doctor worked on analysing a sample of Paris tissue. “If the bear creatures are slow they might use a similar toxin to slow down their prey……… got it! The poisons in his white blood corpuscles. Paris heart and lungs are saturated with the stuff paralysing the muscles.”

“Good work doctor, now what’s the treatment?” asked Seven.

“We could flush his system out with antitoxins.”

“That would be too slow,” Seven pointed out, “Mr Paris would suffer damage before they took effect.”

This sent the doctor into a pacing mode, once, twice between diagnostic beds he strode before coming up short in front of Seven. “A quicker approach would be to reprogram some of your spare nanites Seven, have them seek out and destroy the infected cells then assist in building new ones.”

“An excellent idea doctor,” praised Seven.

The doctor turned his attention to Janeway, trying to sit up with Chakotay's help. “Captain as you are awake do I have your permission?”

“You most certainly do,” replied Janeway an approval, which sent the doctor into a frenzy of activity. “Are you up to some questions?” Chakotay asked Janeway.

“Not yet, not till Paris is safe,” Janeway looked into Chakotay's eyes, he saw the pain in hers, “Tom saved my life.”

“We know, but how?”

Janeway smiled weekly and turned her gaze away.


Twelve hours later Paris was still unconscious. Captain Janeway, discharged and put on light duty’s returned to a quiet sickbay. Only two small lights illuminated the room. One above Paris on the main diagnostic bed and one in the doctor’s office, where he sat alone reading medical pads. When Janeway entered he rose and came to meet her.

“Doctor how’s Tom’s progress?” Janeway asked, a report she could have got via ship communications but today needed the personal touch.

“Mr Paris is breathing on his own again and his heart rate is nearly back to normal.”

“That’s good,” Janeway nodded, “Any lasting effects?”

“None that I can detect and the nanites are working perfectly, I should be able to remove them and wake Paris tomorrow,” answered the doctor, proud of his work.

“I’ll leave you too it then, good night doctor.”

“Good night Captain.”

Janeway walked away and the doctor returned to his office desk. Reaching the doorway she turned, “Computer programme ‘EMH freeze’.”

On this command the doctor suddenly froze, his eyes were wide open and one arm midway to reaching a new pad. Janeway tapped a lockout code into the door of sickbay then crossed to where the doctor kept his hyposprays and extracted two. Moving to Paris, Janeway pressed one of the hypos to his neck. The hiss echoed loudly across the silent room Janeway couldn’t suppress a need to check no one had heard. A week groan from Paris confirmed her plan was working.

“Tom,” Janeway whispered resting one hand on his shoulder as he stirred.

“Tom,” she repeated his name and Paris again moaned half conscious now.

“It’s ok Tom,” Janeway spoke gently, “Wake up,” Paris eyelids fluttered and his body twitched. Janeway called his name once more, “Tom,”

Paris opened his eyes to the dim lights of Voyagers sickbay ceiling. A view he had seen all to often over the past years. Closing his eyes again Paris ran his tongue over dry lips and tried to speak, “J….Just…..dreaming.” his words came out hushed and strained.

“No Tom, not dreaming, your safe,” Janeway leaned over so he could see her, “They found us were going to be ok,”

At the sound of her voice Paris opened his eyes again, blinked hard to make sure Janeway wasn’t an apparition, before giving her one of his famous smiles.

Janeway smiled back and brushed the hair from his forehead, “You still need a hair cut.”

An in-joke between them, Paris tried to laugh but only succeeded in coughing instead. Producing a drink of water Janeway raised Paris head so he could take a sip, “That better.”

Paris nodded, “Where’s the doctor.”

“Don’t worry he’s occupied,” now wasn’t the time for explanations.

Paris turned his head so he could see into the doctor’s office where he sat motionless. A magic spell Paris hoped Janeway would teach him.

“Tom,” Janeway called Paris back to look at her, “I didn’t tell them. I kept our secret.”

Paris licked his lips again and swallowed hard, “Thanks,” he said gratefully but his smile faded slightly, “Belanna?”

“Eager to apologise for what ever you argued about before leaving,” Janeway answered glad of the change in subject.

“Can I see her now?” Paris asked.

“Sorry Tom, your not even supposed to be awake until tomorrow,” Janeway produced the second hypo, “I woke you up early so I could speak to you first. I’ll have to put you out again soon.”

“Must you?” Paris asked reaching over to push the hypospray back out of sight.

Janeway nodded, “But not just yet,” she added, “I have one more story to tell.”

“What story?” Paris asked.

“How I aced my Starfleet survival test.”

Tom Paris smiled again as Janeway began her tale…………….

The End