Disclaimers: Is there anyone who thinks that if I owned these guys I wouldn't let them express their love in gorgeous Technicolor detail? Paramount owns the toy room. I washed my hands and now I can play with them.

This story is dedicated to ListMoms, Dads and list archivists everywhere.

For anyone with Irish ties, I mean no disrespect or trivialization of any of the problems in Ireland.

Warning: This is not a death story. I just can't do an unhappy Harry.

Harry leaned back in the Delta Flyer studying the readout cursorily.

"It's the same Tom."

"Let me guess. The same as it was ten minutes ago, and then twenty minutes before that." Lieutenant Tom Paris shifted in the pilot's seat and leaned back as far as he was able. "When Gervaine contacted us for the celebration, I didn't think we'd be hanging in space for over two hours waiting for him."

The pilot was irritated, not with Harry Kim...never with Harry, but with Gervaine.

Two standard days ago, the Gervaine, had contacted them. They were an advanced civilisation at a stage in their development that seemed comparable to earth in the 21st century. They offered Voyager and her crew food staples, medical supplies and any other items that were needed. In return, they requested the presence of some of Voyager's crew mates to celebrate their Day of Rebirth. The Gervaine intimated that being invited to participate was a great honour.

The Gervaine, or Gervaine-- two days later, Voyager's crew wasn't sure whether the name was for the planet or the people or even the alien with whom they negotiated, since it was used interchangeably -- then told them to send a shuttle to a rendezvous point to collect the supplies. Arrangements had been made where a small shuttle from the planet able to traverse the atmosphere rendezvoused with the Delta Flyer above the ionosphere and supplies were beamed from the shuttle to the Flyer. The starship would not be allowed to orbit the planet and using the transporters was not advised.

Captain 'Call me Ma'am' Janeway was understandably cautious. But Tuvok confirmed that there were several hundred intensely ionised layers in the stratosphere and ionosphere of the planet and to expose Voyager to that would cause many of her primary and secondary systems to fall below optimal performance. With the ionisation, the bridge crew agreed with the Gervaine; using the transporters was unacceptable. It was also the reason why scanning the planet was impossible.

In order to allay the captain's fear, the ever helpful Gervaine, opened up their central planetary repository. On one of his trips, Gervaine brought numerous data files so that they could be scanned by Voyager's on board computer. And the crew did. The last thing they wanted was to run afoul of an alien celebration. The Day of Rebirth was a celebration where everyone on the planet was balanced. When queried further, the shipboard computer offered that being balanced meant rejuvenated. Asked to elaborate upon that, the computer explained to the crew that it meant a joyous celebration, after which everyone felt good -- balanced.

Wary or not, Captain Janeway could not refuse the re-supply offer. Crossing the void had left her ship perilously low on supplies. An advanced civilisation with a hand outstretched to welcome her crew was preferable to the rocky planetoids the starship encountered all too frequently. Voyager dealt with only one alien. They assumed he was male and his name was Gervaine and the captain called him such. When the alien heard this, it smiled. It was Gervaine. Sex as a concept baffled him and explanations between the Gervaine and Voyager's computer were amusing.

The only glitch that marred Voyager's exchanges with the Gervaine were the occasional pauses as the universal translator stumbled over interpreting certain Gervaine words. It was a surprising phenomena, that the translator which coded language for the multitude of federation and non-federation languages in the Alpha quadrant and a few hundred in the Delta quadrant could not find the word it needed to translate the Gervaine language exactly. Sometimes during conversation with Gervaine, the computer would pause for a few seconds while it searched its database before supplying a word in Federation English.

Gervaine delivered everything that had been promised. He provided dilithium alloys, organic based gels that could be substituted into the ship's gel packs and fresh staples. In fact Gervaine had been nothing but eager to please and welcoming. The shuttle runs were completed quickly, smoothly and Captain Janeway braced for trouble.

Tom Paris studied the monitors again. They were the same as before. He tried to find the source of his frustration. He didn't have far to look. It was this situation he was in with Harry. Painful experience had thought him never to trust alien kindness and he wished the other shoe would drop already and the Gervaine would show their nasty side.

Upon being told that the Gervaine expected two crewmen to come down to the surface and visit, Captain Janeway had selected Tuvok and Chakotay. Smiling continuously and with heartfelt apologies, Gervaine had told the captain, he would prefer to choose the crew members.

The captain had been concerned but Gervaine assured her that he wanted to select the best pilot Voyager had. Even with shield modifications to the Flyer, navigating the atmosphere for descent would be tricky. She agreed to Tom Paris being a member of the away team. Still smiling and apologising, the alien requested Harry Kim to be the second member of the away team.

An atavistic shudder crawled down Tom's spine. One word slithered into his mind. Akiiteria. The penetrating glance the captain shot him, told him that thought was also on her mind. Gervaine was full of smiles and explained that only the positive energy of friendship was welcome on their planet. The alien assured Captain Janeway that no harm would come to her crew. Janeway taking no chances, delivered a harsh warning to the away team. If they ran into trouble, after she rescued them, she'd kill them.

Swinging in his chair and looking toward Ops control, Harry forestalled the question on Tom's lips.

"No, no change."

As if to give lie to his words, the distinctive squeak of the com system sounded.

"Enterprise shuttle, this is Gervaine. Are you ready to receive the co-ordinates for the landing site?"

Harry nodded as the co-ordinates were fed into his computer.

"Whaddaya think Harry? Are they all Gervaine? Or is Gervaine the name given to men only?"

Tom restarted the shuttle engines and set the shuttle on track to fly directly to the co-ordinates.

"Actually," Tom mused, "We've only seen one Gervaine. Maybe there's only one person on the entire planet."

Harry chuckled, "They opened up their database to us Paris which showed evolution over the last thousand years. I think there's more than one person down there."

"Our scans were inconclusive and you know there was a paucity of data on the people. Lots of stuff about their customs and history, but nothing about their people." Tom retorted, hands nimbly toggling the controls as the Flyer enter the upper ionisation layer.

The buffeting was heavier as the shuttle began to descend. Lieutenant Tom Paris threw a cocky grin back at his friend, "You're not getting scared behind there, are you Harry?"

"Just drive Tom. I'm fine." Harry did not look up from his console as he monitored the readings. Later on he would analyse the readings. The data they collected would help Voyager in the future.

Once the flyer cleared the ionisation layers, the vista opened up before them. It was beautiful, a verdant green, that stretched out endlessly in front of the view screen.

"Wow!"

Tom agreed privately with Harry.

It reminded him of the first rate manicured golf course of Ireland. From studying earth history, he knew once upon a time that Ireland had been split into factions whose people bombed and killed each other. In the decree of Eurasian Unity of 2245, Ireland had been made into park land. Many had not agree with the treaty, but with the wave of bloodshed that followed the signing, all the participants had eventually seen the wisdom of the decree.

"Just up ahead." Tom stated and began a gentle descent.

Carrying standard Starfleet away team kits, the two men exited the shuttle. One tall alien stood waiting for them.

"See, I told you, there's only one." Tom muttered sotto voce.

"Shut up." The ensign murmured repressively.

"Greetings. I am Gervaine."

The male, Tom believed the alien was probably male, despite his claim to being unsexed, was tall, and thin, almost to the point of emaciation. Like most of the Delta Quadrant aliens, Gervaine had an oddly shaped face, tiny nostrils, and large black eyes, that were set below a wide bony ridge. The alien was completely hairless except for a short fringe of dark hair almost at the nape of his neck.

"Are you called Gervaine? Are there others?" Tom wanted clarification.

A frown chased across the alien's face. "I am Gervaine. We are all Gervaine."

Harry Kim shook his head.

Tightening his lips, the pilot performed an elaborate show of looking around. "So where are the other Gervaine?"

"You will meet them once you cross the..." The universal translator was stymied by the Gervaine word. After a short delay, the translator gave the word as 'passage.'

"The passage? It isn't being held here? Where's the celebration?" With the exception of the shuttle, and Gervaine, nothing and no one else was present.

Gervaine smiled. He was very apologetic, but the two men had to go through the 'passage' before meeting Gervaine.

Harry Kim stood next to Tom Paris and pointed his tricorder at the park.

"Did you pick up any life forms or structures on our way down?" The pilot was annoyed. He had tried to question Gervaine on why they had been given these co-ordinates instead of others that would put them closer to wherever it was their presence was needed.

Again, the alien was full of apologies, but these were the only co-ordinates where they were permitted to land. Suspicious, Tom contacted Voyager to explain the situation. "...we have to walk through some passage before meeting the others." Tom finished his report.

"We'll monitor your life signs as you travel Lieutenant. B'Elanna thinks she has come up with a way to beam someone through the ionisation. If so, we'll keep a lock on you both." The Captain's voice came through the comm unit strongly, with minimal interference.

"Have there been any problems Tom?"

"No Ma'am. Harry and I are fine." Tom looked over at the ensign who mouthed a word. "Uh, the only problem has been the translator." The pilot continued. "Some words are still not being translated."

"Anything else, Tom?"

"No Ma'am. Not really."

Crisply Janeway responded, understanding all that Voyager's pilot was trying to convey in his serious tone. "I understand Tom. Contact the ship at the prearranged time. Janeway, out."

Following Harry, the pilot walked back to the Delta Flyer. It was not unreasonable this possessiveness he had for his shuttle. It was his design. He was the only one who'd flown it and he didn't want to leave it alone on some strange planet. He rubbed the smooth outer hull and wondered whether the small of Harry's back felt the same....

"I've gone over the data twice Tom." The ensign joined him.

Tom jumped a foot and turned red. "Huh?"

"Are you OK?"

Harry flipped open his tricorder to scan his friend.

"Put that away Harry. You just startled me." Tom stated.

Reluctantly the instrument was snapped shut. Harry vowed to keep a close eye on the pilot.

"What did you say?"

"Right," Harry turned his attention back to the conversation. Leaving Tom to contact the captain while Gervaine waited, Harry had returned to the shuttle to recheck the scans of their descent.

"There's nothing around here, no structure, no life forms, nothing."

"Shielded?"

"I checked Tom. Of course where we're headed could be shielded, but nothing above ground." Harry turned away and went into the body of the Flyer. He stepped down the two-step drop into the pilot's area. Tom followed him.

"What're you looking for Harry?"

Harry's answer was muffled, since his head was inside one of the storage spaces under the pilot's console. Tom Paris knew he would have missed the answer anyway. He was busy ogling the ensign's behind.

His friend emerged with two larger travel kits. "I want to be prepared this time." The ensign was grim. "For once, I want to avoid unnecessary adventure. This being the Delta Quadrant, it'll be hard, but I want to try this time to have a flawless away mission."

Tom guffawed. He was not the least bit put out by Harry's annoyed expression. However, he did help pack the larger travel kits.

Gervaine was waiting patiently, all smiles. "You are ready, yes?"

"As we'll ever be." Tom answered while wondering how the alien could smile so much, even as his brain did not register the expression as friendly.

Beside him, Harry checked his phaser levels not leaving anything to chance.

"Which direction?" The pilot asked. Better to leave quickly he thought. He felt wrenching pain leaving his shuttle behind, but being with Harry would help. 'This man is my friend.' Echoes from another misadventure sounded through his brain.

"The passage is ahead of you."

The two men turned to the verdant park. No paths scored the empty land.

"How will we...?" Hearing the pilot's voice trail off into silence, Harry turned back to their host.

No one was there. The two men exchanged a commiserating glance. They'd played this story out many times before.

"Shall we Har?"

"After you Tom?" The ensign gestured with ancient Earth courteousness.

Hitching his travel pack securely on his shoulder. Tom struck out. Trailing half a step behind him, was Ensign Harry Kim, his best friend.

In a place that existed only in their consciousness Gervaine gathered. The exchanges between them occurred at dizzying speed.

*They have started their journey.* There was a momentary silence as Gervaine watched.

*See the path they follow. It is a difficult one.*

Near a thousand permutations were offered, but still a harsh fact remained.

*Balance must be achieved.*

They had been walking for over an hour when Tom called a halt. The two men sat on a slate-grey, sun-warmed boulder. Harry was perspiring. He twisted the canteen open and tilted it to his head. Closing his eyes, he swallowed quickly.

He looked out at the empty vista. It was a cloudless, hot day, a perfect one for camping. The heavy ionisation in the planet's atmosphere wavered near the horizon and reminded him of the Northern Lights on Earth. "Do you have any idea where we're going?" He asked the blond pilot.

Coiled in pretzel heap next to him, Tom looked back over where they had walked.

He shrugged, "No, I'm following the same path the flyer took when we were coming in for the landing."

Harry flipped open his tricorder. He scanned. Nothing registered. "What I don't understand is why the tricorder doesn't show the land rising?" The ensign closed the instrument. "We've been climbing steadily and the land is becoming more rocky, but it's not registering."

"It's the Delta quadrant Har, what do you expect?" Tom rubbed the closed canteen across his face and down the side of his neck, hoping it would cool him off a little. He slapped his comm badge.

"Paris to Voyager."

"Yes Tom. How are you doing?"

"I don't know Captain. To be honest. I don't know what's going on."

The pilot ordered his thoughts and drew his mind firmly away from the attractive, dishevelled heap calling itself Harry Kim.

"Gervaine disappeared a couple hours ago. He never showed us any direction. There were no paths to follow. I've been following the flyer's path." Tom considered his next words carefully. So far there wasn't a problem, but he was responsible for Harry and while he might put himself in danger at anytime, Harry's safety was of prime importance. "The tricorders aren't working properly, and neither are our eyes. There's been an altitude change. We've been climbing steadily. Our eyes don't see it. The tricorder doesn't register it, but we are sweating, and we are feeling it in our legs. The scenery is also changing. Despite what the tricorder says, the land is becoming rocky and there are more bare patches of soil around us."

"I don't like this Lieutenant." Through their comm link, they heard the captain talking to Tuvok. "Tom, Harry, I know the Gervaine wanted you at their celebration, but this is ridiculous. Go back to the shuttle and rendezvous with Voyager. I'll sort it out with Gervaine later."

"Yes Ma'am." Tom closed his comm link. "Come on Harry, let's go back." The pilot extended a strong hand and pulled his friend up.

Amiably they began walking back in the direction they came. As was their favourite custom, they discussed their most outrageous meals they planned to eat once they were back on Voyager. The custom had started in an Akiiterian prison, but they had continued it ever since.

Exactly two hours later, Tom stopped walking.

"Where's the Flyer, Tom?"

The pilot tapped his comm badge.

"Away team to Voyager. Respond please."

The tall blond was almost relieved when Voyager did not respond. The other shoe finally dropped.

The two men walked for another hours retracing their footsteps as much as they were able to in this strange place. However instead of sloping down, the land they were traversing kept climbing upwards. Reversing direction and trying to go downhill did not help, the land still sloped up. The longer they travelled, the more barren the landscape became.

Disgusted with the readings he was receiving, Harry fitted the tricorder onto his travel kit. "It's pointless using this thing. The damn thing swears we walked back to our point of origin. But," the ensign turned and gestured expansively, "there is no flyer around and more to the point, this is not where we were when we landed."

"I know Har." Tom wiped the sweat off his brow, dishevelling his hair even more. "Let me try Voyager again." The pilot tore his attention away from the ensign's pouty bottom lip.

"Paris to Voyager. Come in Voyager." Tom looked at his friend. Contrary to what he'd just stated, Harry pulled the tricorder out of it's compartment and began moving in a wide circle scanning the area around them.

Appreciatively Tom took in the ensign's back view -- the play of muscles along the back of his thighs. The pilot bemoaned again the fact that the Ops console had been placed behind and to the left of his station on Voyager's bridge. He was deprived of this unsurpassed view because of the short-sightedness of Starfleet's design team. Though, he had to admit, he supported the fleet's wisdom in keeping skin-tight jump-suits standard. Harry's clothes off duty were far too loose for his taste.

"Tom."

"Hmmm?"

A silly smile threatened to steal across his face. The only thing that turned Tom on more than Harry's back view, or his front view, was Harry being earnest.

"Pay attention Tom," the ensign's tone was sharp. "What if the translator was wrong?"

"Wrong? How?"

Snapping the tricorder shut, Harry advanced his theory. "What if the Gervaine meant 'passage' to be a trial of sorts...like passing a test or something to get to the other side."

Harry's eyes are so black, the pilot mused, bottomless velvet pools...the epicanthic fold adding an exotic slant. "It's possible," Tom added doubtfully, "So do we keep walking or stay?"

"I think we should keep going. We've been walking uphill, so..."

Grinning Tom concluded, "You're using the theory what goes up, must eventually come down."

"I don't see you advancing any."

The pilot opened his arms wide. "Which way, O great theorist?"

Exasperated Harry responded, "I don't think it matters which way we choose. We've been on the planet for a little over four hours and we've walked uphill for all that time."

Moving with exaggerated care, Tom closed one eye and turned away from the direction they had just covered. "Then let's go this way."

The ensign looked up at the sky. "I hope this passage is over before night falls."

An hour later, the greenery was completely gone.

The ground was baked brown, the up-thrust rocks were jagged and the land appeared parched with uneven cracks appearing at odd intervals, and still the two crewmen were climbing.

"This is getting worse," Tom panted. "I'm gonna need a long soak after this...and a massage, I could go for a massage."

Suddenly, beneath his feet a crevice opened up forcing the pilot to jump nimbly to the side to avoid it.

"Be careful Har, fissures are opening up."

Grimly the ensign took a large step to avoid a jagged crack that split open between his stride. In doing so however, he stepped directly into the one that opened up where he was about to place his foot. Harry tried to pull back but he was already unstable and off stride. He fell 20 meters into the rock crevasse.

"Harry!" Tom shouted.

Suddenly all seismic activity ceased. The pilot rolled to the edge of the crevasse and looked down at his best friend.

"Harry? Can you hear me Harry?" Tom called out.

His worst fears were realised as the pilot looked at the bloodied body of Ensign Kim. Automatically, Tom catalogued the young man's condition. Harry had landed on his back. His right leg was broken mid tibia. He had bruised the side of his temple. The blood was flowing down to pool beneath his head. Even from this distance, the ensign's breathing was raspy. The pilot was sure there were some ribs broken.

Tom Paris was furious. He looked around for something, anything that would help him get to Harry. There was nothing -- no tress and the grass had long since disappeared. Tom dared not leave Harry. There was no guarantee that he'd get back to him.

"Har, answer me. You're scaring your friend."

"Uhh..."

A thin trail of blood flowed from the side of Harry's mouth. The pilot's insides clenched. He almost threw up. The running catalogue of the ensign's injuries added internal bleeding to the list.

"Har, can you hang on buddy?"

"There isn't anything..." a raspy breath, "to hang on to."

"Still a comedian Har?"

The pilot opened his travel kit trying to cannibalise anything that he could use for rescue. He also tried Voyager one more time.

"Anything from Voyager, Tom?"

"No, but I have everything I need to fix you up."

"Don't lie to me."

"Lie? I'm not lying to you? "

Harry chuckled weakly, "I *always* know when you're lying."

"You do?"

Working quickly, the pilot's chatter was more to keep Harry conscious.

"I've always known Tom."

"Hmmmm, and here I thought I was fooling you."

The pilot stood and considered their predicament.

'This man is my friend.' Tom pulled off his long sleeved, 'fleet jacket. It was as simple and as complex as that.

I wondered why the Gervaine requested me as part of the Away Team. Not that I minded the least bit. Heck, it gave me more time to spend with Tom. That was always a good thing, except when I felt like throttling him, for not recognising what I wanted to offer him, and also when he made cow-eyes at Jenny Delaney or flirted with...Ok, I really wanted to strangle him when he asked me a useless question.

"Anything new on sensors, Har?"

I sighed. He can't help it sometimes. He's gotta be doing something all the time. I guess that's why he's the pilot. He's gotta be going at Warp 9.9 or he'll be bored. Notice, I don't say Warp 10. The less said about that little mutation incident the better.

"It's the same, Tom."

So here we were hanging out in space waiting for who knows what to happen...with Tom in an impatient mood. Those Gervaine had better watch out. Tom Paris just doesn't do impatient.

"Let me guess. The same as it was ten minutes ago, and then twenty minutes before that."

Ok, for that comment a grunt would be enough. Anything else and Tom would definitely take it personally. Not personally like the way I wanted to take it, but he would start an argument. Arguing with Tom is not ever something I like to do. It makes my gut churn and whatever meal I had recently tries to climb back in my throat.

I went back to my favourite pastime, thinking about him and me. I have no idea when I fell in love with him. It wasn't like some great revelation. When he rescued me from that Ferengi bartender, the first thing I saw was the cynicism. I did see the loneliness beneath, though. Gods, he was so wounded. Tom's funny that way. He tries so hard to be bad, it's pathetic. I don't know how the rest of the crew could be so blind, but I often think Janeway and I are the only ones who see the neediness in Tom. As for lonely, I know that so well. I looked into his eyes and I knew that what Tom Paris needed more than anything else in that bar at DS-9 was someone to trust him. Nobody had trusted him in a long time. There it was. I gave him my trust. The heart was an afterthought, a bonus.

Damn, these Gervaine. Talk about weird. I might be an ensign but I have seen so much action in the last four years that I think I've developed a very suspicious nature. It remained dormant for a long time, but after a planet of women tried to suck all the DNA from my body, it's now my constant companion.

If we ever make it back to the Alpha quadrant and Starfleet asks me to give a talk. I have one sentence to say to them. 'Simple rule, most races are hostile and have a hidden agenda. Forget the prime directive stuff.' OK, make it two sentences. Yeah, I know the captain says that weird is part of the job but it seems every four out of five alien species wants to kill us.

Wait a minute...I started playing with the E-M bands and modulating the subspace interference and what do you know? Ahh, there it is, a spike. Told ya! Those Gervaine...as weird as anyone else.

"Tom, we're being scanned?"

"How? What frequency? I don't see it..." My clueless love toggled with his console. That's what I'd like to call him, mine, but.... If it makes him happy, let him play with his switches, not that what he's doing is gonna make one whit of difference, because he is after all, only a pilot. I'm an Ops officer, the real thinker behind starships and shuttles and one Delta Flyer.

"It's on the E-M band, but we're definitely being scanned."

"Can you isolate it?"

Hmph! Can I isolate it? Already my fingers were coaxing the impossible out of the flyer's Ops station. That's the problem with everyone on Voyager. They always ask Ops, to isolate, magnify, augment or some other impossible thing. And do they say thanks?

"Thanks Har, I see it now."

My insides sorta did this flip flop thing. Well, yes, Tom does say thanks. I really like it when he looks at me, smiles this huge smile, like I just presented him with his own ship and he says thanks. Have I got it bad or what?

"Uh oh, Tom. I've lost Ops control."

"I don't have Navigation. What's going on?"

The shuttle started spinning crazily out of control. The attitude stabilisers were off-line. I did what every first month cadet learns, I focused on the display panel a half meter in front of me and forgot everything else. Contrary to long-held belief, all of the academy isn't difficult. If you make it through the first six weeks, when you learn how sadistic sims programmers can be, you'll be fine. Hell, if you do ace shuttle simulations you're automatically pegged for bridge duty on Enterprise or some Admiral's flagship. I got used to going without breakfast and lunch. First month at fleet headquarters, I lost quite a lot of weight.

"I think I can get the emergency back-up on line." That's me, Ops officer doing the impossible again.

I would have spared a minute to admire Tom's harsh and creative swearing, but I couldn't spare it. I know why I was suddenly hearing Klingon curses. The planet was coming up fast beneath us and the flyer was dead. Suddenly, I got power.

"Power's back on. It's gonna take me a few minutes to get every..."

"We don't have a few minutes, Har."

Gritting my teeth, I swerved around several physics rules and trusted he was doing the same with the aerodynamics.

"It's gonna be a bumpy landing." Tom yelled at me.

Like I couldn't guess. Stones have dropped slower. It was like there was a force on the planet actively pulling us down. I opened the comm link. Static. Communications were not on line and I was balancing too many systems to try and fix that.

The first slam of the flyer on the hard surface pushed the breath out of me. As if the touchdown produced another reaction, the force suddenly released us. Well, what happened next was that the first rule of Newtonian mechanics was satisfied. The negative force Tom had been applying to slow out descent, threw us straight back up in the air. Then everything, I mean everything, died.

"Hang on Har."

I looked ahead then. Inertia is such a bitch. Ahead of us was a huge slate-coloured mountain and there was no way that we would slow down in time.

"Get back here Tom. Now!"

And he did try. He was out of his seat before I finished speaking, but it was too late.

The entire front of the Delta Flyer crumpled like an accordion I'd seen in the artefact display of ancient instruments in the Julliard museum. Tom's torso, still a part of the Flyer was damaged, badly. I couldn't see, machine and mountain rested atop him, but his upper body was fine. That's good, right? That's where the organs are.

Me, not one scratch.

Tom though, he's still unconscious. I am sitting with his head cradled in my lap, waiting for him to wake. When he does, we'll talk.

"Tuvok try raising the Delta Flyer again," Janeway's command was brisk.

Calmly the Vulcan responded, "Trying Captain."

From his position next to her Chakotay fed her information in a low murmur, "We're still reading life signs, but the transporters won't let us beam them out of the Flyer."

"Nothing, yet Captain." From Tactical, Tuvok studied the wealth of information at his fingertips. "May I suggest-"

When Tuvok did not continue, all eyes turned to Tactical. Tuvok was staring into space. He was utterly absorbed. Janeway turned her attention back to the screen. She was just in time to see the Delta Flyer wink out of existence as well as the planet.

"Tuvok?" Captain Janeway's voice was sharp and disrupted the Vulcan's absorption.

"Yes Captain."

"What's happening? The Flyer and the planet just disappeared."

"I am not surprised." The Vulcan was placid as ever. "The entire planet is psychic, every blade of grass, every molecule around that planet is sentient."

Wide-eyed Janeway processed what her lieutenant commander just stated. "What have they done with the Tom and Harry?"

"I do not have the answers you seek Captain."

"Hmmm?" Janeway saw the fleeting expression that crossed Tuvok's dark face. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn that the expression was embarrassment.

"I am never sending them on an away mission together again." She muttered to herself. "Very well, Chakotay, work with B'Elanna to come up with some sort of improvement in scanning for the planet. Maybe they have some sort of cloak we can penetrate. Meanwhile Batehart, scan every inch of space within the next ten light years for any sort of ion trail. Wildman scan for any intruders and keep sending greeting messages in every language to Gervaine. Seven, use the computer to access any of the files the Gervaine allowed us to see and try to find out if they give any clues."

As her crew turned to their tasks, Captain Janeway jerked her head sharply, "Tuvok, my Ready Room."

The Vulcan followed two steps behind her.

"Coffee, hot." Waiting at the replicator, Janeway observed her friend. He had known her the longest and the best. Something was disturbing him now and she meant to wrinkle it out of him.

"Sit Tuvok." The captain sat across from Tuvok and sipped her coffee.

The Vulcan sat across from her, his hands resting loosely in his lap.

"I'm waiting." Her tone was one of friendly inquiry.

The silence lengthened between them. Finally steepling his fingers, Tuvok spoke slowly. "I cannot speak of such matters to outsiders."

Janeway examined the answer. In his logical way, her lieutenant had just informed her that he would not discuss the matter. However, he had not said, he would not answer questions. Lightning fast her she formatted her questions to obtain maximum information.

"When did you feel the psychic presence of the Gervaine?"

"I had only experienced a pale reflection of such a presence once before."

"When?" The seated woman rapped out sharply.

"Upon my assumption into adulthood and my first bonding with T'Pel."

Sitting back, her expression thoughtful, Janeway murmured, "Pon Farr."

Although none of his discomfort showed on his face, the captain knew her lieutenant commander was embarrassed.

Answering the question though, betrayed none of his internal discomfiture. "At the time of the first bonding, we were on Mount Selay'at. Many priests prayed with us. The feeling was indescribable. They opened their minds, as close to a group mind-meld and we formed a psychic presence which soothed as well as energised." Lost in his thoughts, Tuvok recalled memories of a happier time before continuing, "Why I was unable to identify the Gervaine as psychic before was because, that same feeling was magnified, not ten times or a hundred thousand times. It was on an order of amplitude I had never encountered.

"Ah, I see." The next question followed quickly. "Did you feel ill will toward us or Tom and Harry?"

"No Captain."

"Then, the next questions must be, where is the planet and where are they?"

Carefully Tuvok answered, "The planet is still here. At least I believe it still is." Shrugging awkwardly at being contradictory, the Vulcan hurried to explain, "Now that I am aware of their presence, I can identify them. The same vast presence I felt earlier has not changed. When the Flyer and the planet disappeared, the Gervaine did not vanish from my thoughts.

An uneasy thought wormed to the front of Janeway's consciousness, "But you said the Gervaine are powerful. How can you tell they are not sending you this message to allay our fears."

"I can't."

Drumming her fingers on the desk, Captain Janeway realised, once again, she was being held hostage by some alien species in the Delta Quadrant. Poorly she acquiesced to the reality that she had to wait here until the Gervaine contacted her once more. Speaking of which.... "Just how many Gervaine are there."

Tuvok answered promptly. He had been thinking along the same lines. "The planet is Gervaine, as is everything on it. They are all Gervaine. The man who greeted us was a manifestation of the planet."

"He scanned as humanoid." Janeway was annoyed. At this moment she was not interested in exploring such an unusual anomaly as a sentient planet, not with two of her crew missing.

"They are powerful, Captain."

"If you feel even the slightest change in this psychic awareness you are sensing, you are to notify me immediately."

"Of course Captain."

"Dismissed."

Nodding the Vulcan took his leave. Just before the door opened, he turned to the captain. "Captain, you might want to inform the crew to notify you if anything unusual happens. I am sure the telepaths in the crew might pick up something."

The querying lift of her eyebrow invited him to continue.

"They were probably speaking to all of us directly, in our minds. When they had problems with a word or concept, I think at that time they accessed the translator. That explanation may explain the random delays we experienced with the universal translator."

"Thank you Tuvok. And Tuvok, thank you for the great honour you bestowed upon me by sharing such an intensely personal experience." The captain wasn't sure but she chose to believe that the smallest flicker of a smile crossed the Vulcan's face before he turned and left her Ready Room to return to his station.

From her chair, she stared out at the starry expanse of space while waiting for her crew to report. 'Never again, I swear. They are never leaving the ship together again.'

Hearing movements coming from above his position, Harry took a shallow breath, "What're you doing Paris?"

Carefully lowering himself, nearly crab-like, down the slick sides of the fissure, Tom panted, "Rescuing you." His fingers scrabbled for purchase along the smooth wall.

Tom slipped the rest of the way down the rock face and landed in a squat near Harry's feet.

"Anyone find a clumsy ensign around here?"

"Not clumsy, Paris."

Tom was shocked by Harry's pallor and the general deterioration that had occurred in the short time it had taken him to get over the side of the cliff face. Running his tricorder over his friend, Paris fought to keep his expression amused. The readings coming up were unpalatable. Harry Kim was dying and he did not have any of the equipment that would save him.

"How're you doing, Ensign?"

"We're en..." Harry hacked and coughed, "ensigns together. You can't," another bout of hacking, "pull rank on me."

"Shh," Tom was preparing a series of hypodermics for injection. "Actually, you probably have more rank than I do." The hiss of the injector was unheard as Harry coughed again. A small trickle of blood flowed from the side of his mouth.

Harry felt a grey blur chasing the edges of his consciousness. He was obviously losing blood from somewhere which was contributing to his faintness.

Am I dy...," the ensign coughed, "Am I dying, Tom?"

Taking the edge of his 'fleet uniform, Tom dabbed at the side of Harry's mouth, trying to avoid the question. Firmly in his role as medic, he longed for the good old days when he was ignorant about the human body's incapacity to withstand certain types of trauma. He planned not to share that information with Harry. It would only worry the young ensign further. Harry just couldn't deal with crises.

"Please."

Taking another hypo, he placed it on Harry's neck.

"Please, Tom?" The plea was a nearly soundless whisper after the violent coughing bouts.

Blue eyes were snagged by inky black ones, "I can't help you Harry, I...I don't have the stuff to help you." Tom's face was solemn, "I'm sorry, love."

The time ticked by slowly.

Janeway, never one to endure stoically, had Ensign Jenkins who was seated at the con, piloting Voyager in ever tightening circles around the last known position of the planet. She also had Seven tracking ion trails and suspicious atmospheric phenomena. B'Elanna was haranguing her engineering crew while they tried to work on finding a transporter lock on the missing crewman.

From Tactical, Tuvok spoke urgently, "Captain, the Gervaine have contacted me."

Chakotay's head swivelled, "How? Did they send a message to your station?"

One elegant eyebrow arched but he did not answer.

The captain patted her first officer's hand briefly, "Later." She stood. "Chakotay, you have the bridge."

Silently, the Vulcan followed the diminutive captain.

The door to the ready room slid shut. "What happened? What did they say?"

Tuvok's ever mobile eyebrow arched reprovingly. Kathryn Janeway sighed and gestured. Idly she wondered if Vulcans learned those eyebrow tricks when they were growing up. She remembered an old vid of the diplomat Spock, son of Sarek, one of the most famous proponents of peace with the Klingons. He had possessed wicked eyebrow skills.

"Captain, you asked me to inform you when the presence changed."

"Has it?"

Tuvok spoke precisely. "The Gervaine have not changed. Their presence is still vast in my mind, but they have sent assurances that Ensigns Kim and Paris are safe."

"So where are they?" Janeway asked.

"Captain, though they can contact me, I cannot pierce their consciousness."

After a moment's silence while the captain absorbed the statement, Tuvok continued, "I believe the message I picked up was sent to everyone on board. Because I was listening for it, I heard it. I think you will find that others among the crew probably heard it also."

Folding her arms across her waist, Voyager's captain stood motionless. "Tuvok, is there some way to augment your abilities?"

"Captain?"

"You mentioned that the Gervaine reminded you of an earlier time." She did not bring up the specific circumstances, understanding the need for discretion in these matters.

Tuvok followed the thought to its natural conclusion, "I can try Captain. We will use holodeck two."

Janeway nodded and moved to her desk to review the most recent reports from Engineering. Suddenly her comm sounded, "Ca...Ca...Captain Janeway?"

Smiling to herself Janeway nodded, "Yes Crewman."

"Captain, I just felt...uh....something and you told...err....youtoldustoreportanythingunusual." Geron, the young Bajoran whose mother was half Betazed, rushed into speech.

"Geron, slow down."

"Yes Cap."

"What happened?"

"You know that Chakotay assigned me to the calibrate the EPS manifolds this morning. I was trying to align..."

"Crewman Geron." Janeway interrupted crisply.

"Yes'm."

"Exactly what happened?"

Trying to fulfil the request, the young crewman answered concisely, "Approximately three minutes ago, I received assurances that Lieut, err, Ensign Paris and Harry are fine."

Paris had been demoted over five months ago and people were still stumbling over his rank. Janeway wondered if she had not made a serious tactical mistake by demoting him, but those were thoughts for another time.

"Geron, report to Holodeck Two, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is waiting for you."

I looked at the faint tracery of red capillaries on Tom's eyelids.

"Hey," Tom opened his eyes. "Why do I feel as if a mountain is on top of me."

Clearing my throat, I smiled. It wasn't my best effort, being a little shaky around the edges. "That's because it is."

"How's the Flyer?"

"Forget the damned shuttle," I responded forcefully. Wasn't that just like Tom? No questions about his well being, but he wants to know what's going on with the Flyer. "I've been trying to raise Voyager. I can't. There doesn't seem to be anyone on this godforsaken planet. I tried to move some of the stuff, but it...it's so unsteady, that I can't do it by myself without causing you some injury."

OK, so I sounded like I was falling apart. I was. Tom was hurt. He had tons of rock on him and his breathing was awful. I sighed then finished softly, "Nothing is working. We have zero power on all our instruments. I can't beam you out of there."

Tom's eyes had closed during the recitation. I think he tried to flex his feet, but by the painful grimace I saw on his face, I suspected they were injured badly. I continued to pet the side of his face, though. Tom turned into the touch.

"I'm sorry Tom." I whispered. It was either do that or scream about my ineptitude. There must have been something I could have done to prevent this total breakdown to the shuttle's systems.

Paris, always so ready to forgive, answered, "Har, you've nothing to be sorry about."

My entire body tensed. How would I share this news with him? "I scanned you Tom. We need to get you Medlab. You're..." I snapped my mouth closed.

"Dying." Tom completed. "I know."

Tom closed his eyes for one precious second. "Har, I want you to remember this, always. I would not have done anything differently in my life 'cause I got to meet you."

"Tom! No! No, don't do this." I scrabbled for my tricorder with my free hand.

"It's OK, Har. Touch me, I like it when you touch me."

I dropped the tricorder. I didn't need to look at it. The greyish pallor in Tom's face, the slightly clammy feel to his skin broadcast his status accurately. I sank my hands into the soft pelt. Tom, ever an opportunist, had turned his body into my groin. He was positioned nose to cock.

Using my free hand, I brushed the fine blond hair off Tom's forehead. I pushed it back. I'd noticed when Tom began combing it differently. Idiot. As if that ever hid anything. I had longed to push the hair back and kiss the receding vee. Maybe I'd do that now. Many moments later, I dragged my hand away from the luxury of mapping Tom's face.

"Kim to Voyager. Come in Voyager."

There was no answer.

Listening to Tom's breathing as it slowed, I hated my inability to do anything to help. I should be doing something, fixing something. Of their own volition, my hand returned to its duty of brushing each contour on my beloved's face.

"Do you know when I fell in love with you Tom?" I heard the words emerging from my mouth. I had finally flipped. I had guarded that secret so closely for so long that being able to say them aloud brought a sense of tangible relief.

There was a hitch in Tom's breathing and my heart twisted in his chest. I wondered if this was it.

Then Tom spoke softly but clearly, "Not before I loved you."

That did it. Ensign Harry Kim, that's me, ceased all my ministrations, "You love me?"

Tom chuckle died stillborn, "Don't make me laugh. Har. It hurts."

"You know I am in love with you?"

"Since Akiiteria," Tom confirmed.

His breath hitched again, My hands dug into his skull. Not now. I couldn't lose him now. Not before he answered one, or maybe a few very important questions.

"So when...?"

"Since I sat in front of you in a bar on DS-9." Tom was grey, his features seemed waxen.

He'd been in love with me since then and he had never said anything. Suddenly angry, I asked, "Why didn't you say something?"

"Aw, Har, why didn't you?"

Stunned, my jaw dropped, "I couldn't."

"You prefer being wooed?"

I don't have a temper. Everyone who knows Harry Kim knows that I am the epitome of calm stoicism. But every ensign has his breaking point. My temper which was almost always kept in check, slipped its leash. Tom Paris wanted to know why I'd never told him I loved him. I could give him a few reasons.

I opened my mouth and spat, "Kes, Jenny, Samantha for all of two seconds, Sue, Jenny again, Kes again." I paused for breath. "The less said about the B'Elanna episode..."

"It's... always... been... you, Har."

Breathing the last words so softly that I had to curl over Tom's body to hear them, I finally gave in and kissed his temple.

"I know, Tom."

The limitless entities that were Gervaine observed.

*And so they learn.*

*Voyager's captain still seeks them.*

*The message was sent.*

*There are many on the starship who are gifted. They will make her understand.*

Exchanges continued to pass between all aspects of Gervaine. Balancing mental energies in three differing realities tasked the Gervaine. It was a formidable challenge which they relished as all their skills were utilised. As a single rock positioned itself so that Ensign Harry Kim would stumble over it, so too, did a mountain, collapse around Tom Paris. An entire species tested its skills against the solid reality base of Voyager's crew which included one prescient Vulcan now engaged in a mental bonding ritual with others.

*Balance will be achieved.*

Tom Paris depressed the plunger on the last hypospray. He had done all he could do for Harry with his limited supplies. He refused to pick up the tricorder and check the readings. Crawling near to the supine man, he knelt back on his heels and smiled affectionately, "Har, only you could get into such a mess."

"Me, Tom?"

A less violent bout of coughing preceded the ensign's next comment. "I once did a study. You've," he's coughed again, "caused more problems than me."

Tom extended a finger and traced the straight slash of Kim's brow. "What am I gonna do with you Har?"

Velvet black eyes opened wide, "Love me?"

"Ahh, gods, Harry, I do, don't you know that al...?"

"Tom." It was a near soundless sigh.

Quickly Tom moved. Lightning fast, he ran the tricorder over the injured man's body. He loaded another hypo trying to prolong his friend's life.

"No."

Harry's uninjured arm twitched against Tom's thighs. "Let. Me. Go." Each word was an effort.

The blond haired man damp with sweat, small scrapes and bruises on his own arms, ignored in favour of helping his friend, pressed back the quick denial that rose to his lips.

"Har, don't make me do this. I have to help you."

The intense emotion steamed between the two men.

"Please." It was a sibilant whisper.

Tom blinked, willing back the film that covered his eyes. Shifting closer to Harry, he cradled the young man's head, "OK."

Tom knew, it wouldn't be long now. Inside he raged, angry at the Gervaine. He intended to discuss this with them with a phaser pointed at that inscrutable alien. But most of all, he was angry with Harry for dying.

As if the thoughts from Tom were a release, Ensign Harry Kim drew his last breath. A sudden flash of light sparkled brightly for a millisecond. It surrounded Tom. He closed his eyes against the assault. When he reopened them, Harry's body was gone.

Ensign Tom Paris looked down in disbelief. Throwing back his head, he screamed his anguish to the open sky.

"Captain."

"Yes, B'Elanna."

"I think we may have solved the problem with locating Paris and Kim."

Through the comm channel, Janeway heard her chief engineer's excitement. She smiled warmly, exchanging a congratulatory glance with her first officer.

"Can we beam them aboard?"

"I'll be ready in about five minutes. I have to augment the transformer relays and the doctor is transmitting Tom and Harry's bio-patterns to a secondary buffer I have established.

"Good work, B'Elanna. Comm me when you are ready."

Janeway leaned back in her chair, waiting.

Next to her, Chakotay spoke in a low murmur, "Finally."

Nodding in agreement, they both waited.

"That was nice, Har."

I looked down at the head cradled in my lap.

"Opportunist." The accusation was delivered without heat.

Tom's eyes remained closed, his breathing slowing as time passed.

I continued to trace tiny circles at Tom's temples ruffling the fine hairs with each pass. I was terrified at losing my friend and raged against an unfair universe. Suddenly, brilliant light, like a star going supernova, sparkled in the confines of the Delta Flyer. I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, the heavy comforting weight of Tom Paris was gone. The injured pilot had disappeared.

"Captain, the planet has reappeared." Jenkins' voice was excited.

"Locate my crew Ensign."

"Kathryn, look." Chakotay drew her attention to the planet on the view screen. "The atmosphere appears to have been stripped away."

Captain Janeway was surprised. When Voyager had first encountered the planet a few days ago, the intense ionisation in its atmosphere caused it to appear like a brightly coloured jewel from space. With the atmosphere gone, the entire planet resembled a grey, rocky planetoid.

"Jenkins?"

Janeway was becoming a little testy.

"I've scanned the entire surface, Ma'am, I'm not picking up any life signs."

"B'Elanna, report." Janeway's tone made it clear that only a positive report would be acceptable at this time.

She did not get that response from her chief engineer.

"Still working on it. Every time we try to augment the pattern buffers, we lose isodyne relays and the circuit is broken." B'Elanna sounded harried, "I'll get back to you."

Lowering her voice, Kathryn still managed to convey her anger to her first officer, "What the hell is going on here?"

"Obviously these Gervaine are more advanced technologically than we are. If they wanted to harm us, they could have done so at any time."

"What if they mean to harm us two at a time, pick my crew off slowly?"

"Like the Hirogen."

Hearing her first officer's words, Janeway shuddered, "I won't allow it, do you hear me?"

Standing, needing to do something, anything, Voyager's captain handed over control to Chakotay, "I'll be on Holodeck two. You have the bridge."

She walked toward the turbolift quickly.

Time had no meaning in this place. It could have been moments or aeons.

They were used to waiting.

Tom Paris looked around. He was not in the fissure anymore. Although he had not felt the disorienting shift of a transporter, somehow he was in a featureless grey chamber of some kind. It was lit from an unknown light source. Even without his shirt, the ambient temperature was warm enough that he was not shivering.

Twisting around, Tom searched for Harry.

I looked down at my empty hands. He was gone, as if he had never existed. The man whom I loved was gone. A wave of loathing swept through my body. Forget the prime directive. If Gervaine were ever stupid to be in my presence again, I would extract the truth from him. I felt an inescapable pressure building. The kind one felt just before a thunderstorm when the atmosphere, swollen with angry clouds seemed to press down upon the ground. The outline of the shuttle seemed to waver before my eyes.

Tears.

I didn't want to move my hands from their position. I could still feel the faint heaviness where Tom's head had rested in my hands. I closed my eyes. I guessed eventually, I would have to seek a way of this rock, but for now, I didn't care.

How was I gonna explain to the Captain that Tom Paris was gone? She trusted me to take care of him. We both knew he doesn't have the sense to keep himself out of trouble.

The pressure was building, in my chest, my head and my throat hurt. I wondered why I was holding back my anguish. There was no one to hear me rail at the skies. For once, I was away from prying eyes. I would get up and solve the problems of the universe soon, but in this place, I had my own private grief to attend to.

Drawing up my knees to my chest, I imagined I could feel some residual warmth from when Tom's head rested on my legs. I buried my head between my knees. For a moment, only a moment, I would allow myself the luxury of mourning. I would scream my anguish silently in my mind.

"Har?"

My mind heard the words but I couldn't believe it. 'What the...?'

I looked up. I didn't know where I was, but I wasn't in the shuttle. Kneeling before me was Tom Paris, an alive Tom Paris, with a look of amazement on his face. I launched myself at him and held him close.

Alive! He was alive! Maybe, I wouldn't kill the Gervaine. I buried my face in the curve of his neck and pressed tightly against him. I think he was prepared for this turn of events. He always was an opportunist -- but Tom, my love, my alive Tom, was wrapped around me, his hands roaming over my body patting me.

I opened my eyes and blinked. This was more like it. Tom was holding me, closely. OK, I had sorta catapulted myself onto him. But he grabbed and held, really tightly. He was holding me, just the way I had always wanted to be held. This was nice. I liked this -- Tom Paris, holding me tightly, alive, unharmed. Once I got over the shock of having my most tame fantasy fulfilled, I wanted to know just WHAT WAS GOING ON?

"Tom." I said urgently.

He was trying to lip lock me into submission. I held his face and waited until he focused on me. "What are you doing alive?"

"I thought I'd lost you, Har."

"Lost me?" I was well and truly confused.

I peered at him. He was shirtless but his legs were fine. His colour was good. "Where's your shirt?"

Tom was pressing my chest, which would have been fine any other time, but now it was in a distinctly un-loverlike way. "What's wrong?"

Tom leaned away from me, "Who're you?"

I humoured him, "Ensign Harry Kim, Service number..."

He cut me off, "Harry Kim died in my arms a short while ago. I don't know who you are, but you aren't Harry Kim."

Since when did one blond haired pilot tell me who I was and wasn't and while I was on the topic, I wanted to know what happened to Tom Paris. Equally as suspicious I responded, "Well, five minutes ago, you were a bruised heap buried under a ton of rock."

If it weren't serious, the look of shock on Tom's face would have been comical.

"Har?"

Tom clutched me tightly. Oh, this was better, much better.

"Thought you were gone, Har."

I held Tom snug against me. The hug was full of love, not sex. He really cared. So, if this was the real Tom Paris, who had been the impostor?

I looked at the chamber we were in. This was not Akiiteria, but it was still a prison of sorts. "Tom, we have to get out of here."

"I know." He sighed against my neck. It amazed me how he fit into my spaces.

Awkwardly, using some unspoken signal, we gathered ourselves and stood. I looked around. We were in a circular room, a grey circular room. It wasn't large, maybe 3 meters in diameter. There were no discernible features on the walls, they were smooth and uniformly grey. There was no entry and no exit, no light source. The ceiling was some distance above us and appeared unreachable. Had Tom not been with me, very unpleasant memories of Akiiteria would be surfacing right about now. I felt him grip my hand tightly. I knew he was feeling the same thing I was feeling. I think the two of us wanted Captain Janeway to come blasting through any time now.

Reluctantly Harry pulled back. "What's going on Tom? I thought you were..." He didn't finish the sentence.

Tom looked at Harry, equally uncertain, "You died in my arms."

Frowning the ensign corrected, "I was there. An entire mountain fell on you."

"You fell. I couldn't save you." Tom touched his friend's face, hesitantly. "You...." He stumbled, "I couldn't save you."

Harry held his friend tighter.

Tom Paris leaned against the bulkier man. He felt almost as if he could read Harry's mind.

"Har, any idea where we are?"

"Maybe, we're both de..."

"Don't even say it," Tom responded fiercely.

The featureless grey room seemed to shimmer around them.

"Your life functions have not ceased, Harry Kim."

Tom Paris was blazingly angry. "What the hell is with you sadists?"

"Balance must be achieved." The voice rolled towards the pilot from the walls, the ceiling, the very air around him.

"Balance?" Tom sputtered. "What balance have you achieved? That little scenario I just played out was in aid of what?"

The voice echoed around him resounding through Paris' skull. "What you both have seen are two possible paths facing you."

Harry's brain was working quickly, formulating and discarding theories. "Are there others that don't end in death for one of us." He questioned, "There must be another?"

"I don't want you to die, Har." Tom blazed. The pilot looked at Harry, and repeated, "I just don't. What I just went through, I never..." Tom swallowed audibly, "I can't lose you again."

Standing next to Tom, his arms curving about me protectively, I considered the events of the day. Tom thought I had died. I shivered a little at that. It was strange hearing him say that, especially when I had just witnessed his own death in my arms. With Tom's arms wrapped around me, it was somewhat difficult to think, but I was if nothing else, a resourceful Ops officer. I tightened my grip on him, settled in his arms as if I did it every day and tried to figure out what was going on and how I was gonna get us out of whatever was going on.

It was a given that what we both thought had happened to the other had not happened. I did not want to go through that heart-wrenching drama again. Tom Paris, dead? It didn't bear thinking about. Sure as heck, not before we both got under covers and I explored just what his 'fleet uniform was hiding. I lost myself in that happy daydream for a bit when suddenly from all around, reverberating through me, a loud voice echoed, "Do you accept balance?"

Maybe one or both of us nodded or twitched or something because right before my very eyes, the grey room we were in disintegrated. Weird was starting again. In that moment, for just an instant, I could have sworn I was one mind, amidst a network of others, a vast consciousness that spanned the stars and I saw the past, present and the future possibilities all laid out before me and I knew that with one small change, everything would be all *right.*

Captain Janeway leaned sideways in the bridge chair closer to Chakotay, "Why do I always agree with those two?"

The first officer smiled, "Because you can't say no to either one of the pair."

Shaking her head with mock chagrin she returned the smile, "It was bad enough before they were married. Tell me again why I gave my permission for that marriage."

From the con where Ensign Jenkins was manning in Tom's absence, she noted out loud what was happening ten thousand kilometres away. "The Gervaine vessel has docked with the Delta Flyer."

Behind her the murmured conversation continued.

"Kathryn," Chakotay was imperturbable, "you didn't stand a chance."

The woman who never met a challenge she couldn't defeat agreed, "All it took was one request from Tom and a pleading look from Harry."

"Maybe I need to have them with me whenever I need a favour."

Janeway frowned, "A favour? You've used up all your favours this month."

The first officer's voice dropped even lower, "I was hoping there was one more to be had, especially after the back-rub last night."

The captain pressed her lips together firmly to prevent them from turning up at the corners. "I have been extremely nice to you this month. Anyway, didn't you use this same excuse to get me to be nice to you last month?"

"Caught!" Chakotay was unrepentant. Shrugging, he dimpled, "Hey, if it works...."

Their conversation was interrupted by the chirp of a communicator. "Kim to Voyager."

"Yes, Ensign."

"Gervaine has finished transferring the foodstuffs and supplies to the Flyer. He wants to return with us now and meet Tuvok as part of his requirement for the Day of Balance."

"Does he need anything else for this Day of Rebirth?" Chakotay asked, intrigued by discovering a new custom from an alien species.

The tall Gervaine stepped in front of Harry. In slow, measured tones he answered, "I do not wish to disturb Ensign Kim or his husband. Lieutenant Paris has informed me that this was their first away mission after mating. I only require private conversation with your Vulcan."

The loud guffaw behind him startled Gervaine. Puzzled, he turned.

"Since marrying, not mating." Tom clarified. "If I told you how many..."

Kim reached around and clapped his hands to Tom's mouth. He answered the captain's question, "As I was saying Captain, Gervaine only needs to speak with Tuvok, to bear witness."

Slightly confused, Janeway gave her permission.

The view screen winked out. Nodding to the screen, she spoke, "Even though it's been only three weeks, I think those two will make it."

Chakotay agreed, "Harry told me exactly that at the wedding. I believed him."

Musing about fate, Janeway finished, "I'm so glad those two found each other on DS-9. If we hadn't docked there for re-supply and to pick up the Admiral's son, they would never have found each other. They complete each other."

Shaking off her introspective mood, she signalled to Tactical, "Tuvok, shall we go find out what Gervaine wants with you?" Moving to the turbolift to join the Vulcan, she threw over her shoulder, "Chakotay, you have the bridge. Try to keep it in one piece."

The running joke between them never failed to bring a smile to the first officer's face. On a rescue mission in the badlands, Chakotay, commander of a squadron of elite Maquis fighters, home guard for the outer colonies, lost power to his ship. Voyager, a Federation spaceship on her maiden voyage, had heard his mayday. The capricious being known as the Caretaker had chosen to transfer both ships to the Delta Quadrant. Unfortunately, Chakotay's ship had not survived. After the destruction of his ship and once the successful integration of Maquis and Starfleet personnel had occurred, Janeway often joked quietly that she had to safeguard her own ship since he could not be trusted with one.

Joining Tuvok in the turbolift, Janeway studied her old friend. An hitherto never before seen expression was on the Vulcan's face. She finally categorised it. "Tuvok, you're worried. Why? Do you believe Gervaine can harm us?"

Janeway referred to the alien they had encountered two days ago. He had claimed to be the emissary from a peaceful race called the Gervaine. After offering to replenish Voyager's supplies, Gervaine, it appeared that the emissary's name and the planet's was interchangeable, had asked for one thing in return, to meet one member of the Voyager crew. The Gervaine claimed to be scientists, anthropologists of a sort and wished to meet the Vulcan as part of a local celebration called The Day of Rebirth. Except for an unfortunate problem the universal translator was having with interpreting some of Gervaine's words, the exchange between races had gone quite well. Janeway gave her permission.

Tuvok's brow wrinkled, "I'm not sure Captain. This doesn't feel right."

Striding from the turbolift when the doors opened, Voyager's captain asked, "What doesn't feel right? Do you think Gervaine means to harm us?"

"I don't...I'm not sure." Tuvok came to a standstill in the corridor leading to the docking bay.

Janeway touched his arm gently, "I know we can't scan the planet because of the ionisation and Gervaine has avoided all questions about his people, but do you believe they might be hiding something? Warships? Something that could harm Voyager or the crew?"

"All races have some secrets Captain, but I don't believe they mean us harm. I do not...I cannot explain anymore...I am not sure."

More worried by Tuvok's ambivalence, more than she would admit, Janeway began walking forward. "Maybe when you meet Gervaine, you will clear it up."

"I hope so, Captain. I will keep you informed."

Both Janeway and Tuvok maintained their silence while they waited for the Delta Flyer to enter the docking bay.

Soon after docking Captain Janeway saw Gervaine for the first time. The male, she believed the alien was probably male, despite his claim to being unsexed, was tall, and thin, almost to the point of emaciation. Like most of the Delta Quadrant aliens, Gervaine had an oddly shaped face, tiny nostrils, and large black eyes, that were set below a wide bony ridge. The alien was completely hairless except for a short fringe of dark hair near the nape of his neck.

Gervaine walked toward Voyager's captain and the Vulcan standing next to her. "Thank you for allowing this meeting."

Janeway glanced at Tuvok. He appeared serene once more. "Tuvok?"

Some message seemed to pass between the Vulcan and the alien. "Please leave us Captain."

Gervaine turned to the two Starfleet officers, "Thank you for the service you do for me today. I will inform you when I am ready to depart."

Looking for all the world like two children who couldn't wait to be released from school, Tom and Harry smiled. Flanking the captain, they left the docking bay with her, both voices chiming in as they debriefed themselves.

Gervaine did not speak until the door slid shut behind the trio.

"I requested you, Tuvok of Vulcan to bear witness to this Day of Rebirth."

One elegant eyebrow arched.

Gervaine opened both hands, palm upwards. A three dimensional image sprung to life a centimetre above his right palm. "This is a representation of the four quadrants of your universe."

The image resolved itself and Tuvok realised that he was looking at an incredibly condensed view of galaxies and planetary systems, seen from the edge of known space.

Gervaine closed his palms and reopened them, "But this is what most interested us." The new model floating above the alien's palm was larger and showed only the Alpha quadrant with the Delta quadrant abutting it near the Badlands.

Recalling his memories of star charts, Tuvok identified the spiral Milky Way galaxy, the Horsehead nebula and many others. "I do not understand."

Gervaine touched the model again. It enlarged even further. It was then that Tuvok saw what the alien was pointing out to him. Starting from Earth, there was a faint rip in the star field, that widened the further it travelled from Earth. Suddenly the facts coalesced into place.

"That is the course of Voyager's travels."

"Yes." Gervaine smiled. "Now you understand."

Tuvok gave a negative shake of his head. "I do not understand. Has Voyager caused this tear? What is this tear anyway? I have never seen it."

Gervaine chose not to answer Tuvok's questions.

"Imagine a race of beings so powerful that we can stand on Earth even while I stand before you. We are the Gervaine."

"The Q continuum." Tuvok murmured softly.

"No," the alien rapped out sharply. "The Q continuum are a moribund but capricious group of beings whose progress has disappointed us."

"Very well," Tuvok accepted this especially as he was of the same opinion. "But, why are you interested in us or rather Voyager's travels?"

"We monitor the Q and noted their increasing interaction with your Federation. We saw that contact with humans had sparked a civil war in the continuum. Clearly we needed to study humans more closely."

"And?"

Tuvok was beginning to form certain theories. He was almost sure that time had been tampered with and this alien who stood before him was responsible for that.

"We studied your history -- what was, what is and what will be." The alien paused for a moment before continuing. "We were disturbed by one tear that seemed to ripple from what you quantify as the Delta quadrant that appeared to originate in the Alpha quadrant."

"Indeed," Tuvok murmured.

"Our species turned our attention to solving this mystery. We traced the originator of the ripple and its catalyst."

Shimmering into life was a holo-image of a man in an admiral's uniform.

"Admiral Paris." Tuvok confirmed.

"This man has a great influence on Federation policy and an even greater influence on his progeny, Tom Paris."

"You tampered with time." The Vulcan accused flatly.

"No, Tuvok." the alien corrected, "We changed one tiny aspect of this man's psyche. One small aspect of a human's life and the rent was corrected. His policies were not egregious. There was no Maquis. He did not turn his back on his son and Caldik Prime never happened."

"Tom and Harry are now married." Tuvok stated calmly. His mind spinning with dual images, time now and time before.

"In this timeline yes." Gervaine searched for his words carefully. "We did not attempt this lightly but Voyager has affected too many species in this quadrant and too frequently to their detriment. We had to be sure that our actions would correct the imbalance. We needed to test our theory and we did so. Tom Paris faced two separate realities with dignity."

A skeptic to the end, Tuvok asked, "Why did you need to see me?"

"Once our race decided to affect this change, we had to fulfil the second requirement. It is our custom to have one member of the species bear witness, to remember what was and celebrate what is and what will be."

"T'Pel, my family?"

"Search your memories Tuvok. You are as you have always been. Your life was not affected."

Tuvok looked at the three dimensional image which had once again replaced Admiral Paris. The fraying tear that meandered from Earth to Bajor and wove through the Delta Quadrant had disappeared. He closed his eyes while he tried to absorb the fact that he was the only person whose memories were true.

"Why did you chose to do this?"

"As I told you our race studied what will be. Had we not interfered, your entire Federation, your people would never have made the leap of consciousness to the next level. When Voyager finally returns to Earth, a course of action is followed that creates a greater schism. This will kill your Federation."

Gervaine said softly, "We understand what we ask of you, but there is a saying on Vulcan, "The needs of the many outweigh that of the few..."

"Or the one," Tuvok finished. Pulling himself together, he said, "I understand the honour of this gift."

"You bear a grave responsibility, Tuvok." Gervaine raised his hand in the traditional gesture of Vulcan farewell, "Live long and prosper, Tuvok. Your actions here today will not be forgotten by our people."

The alien disappeared leaving the lieutenant commander alone in the docking bay. Standing motionless, Tuvok processed all that he had been told. His would be a lonely path until he integrated the *new* memories with that of his old ones. He dropped into a cross-legged position, one that he often assumed for meditation. He would not be leaving the docking bay until all was clear in his mind.

It was the last gift Gervaine had given him. Somehow, he knew that whenever he returned to the bridge, this fleeting encounter would not be remembered by the crew. Life as they knew it would go on, a new set of memories in place. Closing his eyes, Tuvok began a soft chant. He did not waste time on regrets. And, anyway the Tom Paris who had emerged from the Delta Flyer rubbing shoulders with Harry Kim was incandescent in his happiness. Recalling the conversation with clarity, he realised Gervaine had gifted him with the assurance that Voyager would return to the Alpha Quadrant. His heart, lighter than it had been for quite a long time, celebrated his eventual reunion with his family.

Harry was dreaming. Amidst the wreck of the bed, he tossed and turned, a tiny groan escaped him. He sat up, dislodging the hand tucked into his groin.

"Wha...?" Tom asked, groggy from being disturbed.

"I just had the weirdest dream."

"You okay?" Tom reached up and ran his hand down his husband's upper arm. He was shivering.

"Computer. Lights, 10 percent."

Tom sat up also and looked at Harry closely. With the aid of light from the star field streaking by and the dim lighting, he took in Harry's pallor.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Urging Harry into a comfortable position in his arms, Tom sat back against the bulkhead. Carding his hands through his husband's hair, the pilot held him closely. "Why are you awake? I know I tired you out earlier."

"I had a strange dream Tom, at least I hope it was a dream," Harry shivered, "But it was so real."

"Nightmares'll do that to you," the blond man confirmed.

Rubbing his nose against the fold of soft skin at Tom's underarm, Harry's voice was muffled. "It wasn't monster-scary or anything like that."

"What was it, then?" Tom increased his ministrations sweeping his hands soothingly down his husband's torso.

"We weren't married. We weren't even together. You were seeing B'Elanna and I was having a series of meaningless affairs and pining for you." Harry fell silent before continuing quietly, "That's what scared me. We weren't lovers, had never been."

The comforting sweeps ceased. Using one elegant finger, Tom tilted Harry's face upwards until their eyes caught, "Never happen, Har." he assured him, "Not in this lifetime or any other. Do you hear me? I love you and...."

Sighing Harry nuzzled into Tom's open palm. "I love you too. I just never want to be in a universe where we aren't together."

"Har, you've always been my love and you always will. Forget the dream. This is reality." Tom dismissed.

Settling back into his lover's arms, Harry smiled then reared back up again, "What do you mean, you tired *me* out?"

Grinning, tongue in cheek, Tom replied, "I'm just saying that age tired beauty out."

"Hmph, I'll give you that one only because it's true. My youth exhausted you."

Tom thought about that statement for one second. "Hey, that's not what happened," he sputtered. Pulling on a pillow that had escaped the determined destruction of the former pristine bed earlier that night, the pilot thumped his husband.

Chortling, Harry pulled the pillow away from Tom. A wild pillow fight ensued which led to its predictable end -- both men collapsing in each other's arms declaring themselves the winner.

In a place that existed only in their consciousness Gervaine gathered. The exchanges between them occurred at dizzying speed.

*Balance has been achieved.*

THE END

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