Beware the Ides of March

Summary: J&P, angst, violence. Tom gets into a fist fight and has to face the consequences. This story makes references to the play ‘Julius Caesar’ by William Shakespeare. PG-13 (for violence)

Archiving: Ask me first.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns ‘em. I just write about ‘em.

By Daffnie (


Tom’s wrists were held hard by Ensign Anthony Clad’s hands, and he struggled to get away but failed. He was slammed into the bulkheads, and the air momentarily escaped his lungs. Tom gasped for a welcomed breath of oxygen.

“ If you speak a word about this to *anyone*, Paris, you’ll be sorry. But you’re not going to tell anyone about this, now will you?!” the ensign rasped in anger. Tom didn’t answer. “ Will you?!” he screamed and shook the Lieutenant violently. Paris managed to lie a faint ‘no’ and was released. He stumbled over to the other side of the hallway and leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

“ Do you feel like a big man when you do that do her?” Tom demanded, putting a hand to his chest that still felt empty.

His answer was given to him with clear physical replies. Tom was struck in the cheek, then in the mouth, then in the jaw before he was able to get away. Paris nearly tripped over his own feet from the force of the blows, but he caught himself before he tumbled down to the deck. Surges of excruciating pain shot through his head, and he recoiled to himself for a moment. Then when he was able to push the discomfort aside, he narrowed his eyes at the ensign. Paris delivered a punch to his face that sent Anthony to the floor. Tom walked over to him and kicked him hard in his side. The ensign cringed in pain and involuntarily clutched his now cracked ribs.

“ If I ever see you put so much as a finger on her again,” Tom threatened, pointing to Megan Delaney who stood trembling in fright off to the side, “ you’re going to regret it.”

Ensign Clad stammered to his feet and tried to say something, but a wave of pain hit, and he shrank into a ball. Tom took the opportunity to throw another punch at his jaw, and once again the ensign crashed to the floor. Paris knelt down beside him and cast his fists at his victim’s head several times. Then he got up, smiled in angry satisfaction, and backed off to selfishly admire his handiwork. The crew that had gathered to watch the fight shot him enraged glares and went over to see if they could help Tom’s victim and tried to comfort a fear-stricken Megan. The other few ran down the corridor, half in alarm, half in horror of what they had just witnessed. Tom just stood around and observed their activity while thinking to himself that he was content with doing the right thing. The crowd that had been swarming around the ensign now moved away a little as one called for an emergency beam out to send him to Sickbay. But all their bustling instantly halted when a chirp from the comm interrupted everything. They fell silent.

“ Janeway to Paris, report to my ready room immediately,” she spat.

Tom’s heart stopped.


Paris entered the captain’s ready room with an over-exaggerated limp. He was just getting over the brawl in the hallway, and he was still shaky. Actually, shaky was an understatement. His body was bruised in several places, there was blood dripping from the corner of his lip, a small open wound on his cheek that barely missed his right eye was bleeding, and he had a splitting headache. Basically, he felt like he had fallen off a building, climbed up twenty flights of stairs back to the top and jumped off again. But he had won the fight, and that’s all that mattered...right?

Sitting on the couch that lined the far wall, with closed eyes and bad posture, Kathryn took in a deep breath as she heard him walk in. Strands of her auburn hair were out of place and hung in her eyes, and she tucked them carefully back behind her ears. She looked at him, and whether it was a furious scowl or just a frown that etched itself onto her features, Tom couldn’t tell.

“ Captain?” he started nervously.

“ Lieutenant...” She said as she got up from her seat and put on her captain’s face. “ Lieutenant,” she repeated, “ we have something to discuss. I am very disappointed in you.”

Tom held his hands up to stop her from saying anything else. “ Captain, before you go on, I would just like to let you know that I did this for the good of the crew aboard Voyager.”

Kathryn’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “ Oh?! Please explain to me, Mr. Paris, how beating people unconscious with your fists is for the good of the crew.” She crossed her arms across her chest and began tapping her foot on the floor as he explained.

“ Well, if you look at it that way, I can understand why you’re disappointed in me, but you should view it from my perspective. I did that because he was planning mutiny, Captain. Mutiny!” he lied, trying to save his hide from another fight with a certain ensign.

“ So you thought that beating him was the best way to stop that from happening?”

“ Well, at the time, yes. I did. I couldn’t let that happen to the ship.”

“ Why didn’t you tell me first before you took the situation into you own hands? I could have taken care of it. That’s my job, Tom, not yours. You’re not the captain of this vessel.”

“ I didn’t think that you’d do anything about it fast enough. Something had to be done about it, and it had to be done right then and there. There was no need to get you involved when I could handle it myself.”

“ No need to get me involved?! I’m the captain! This is my ship! Of course there’s a need for me to get involved!” she yelled.

“ Captain, please listen to me. This man was going to take over the ship. I couldn’t just stand around and let it happen when there was something I could do.”

Kathryn threw her arms up in outrage and flopped back onto the couch. She rested her chin on her hand and stared out the window. She wrinkled her brow and sat silent for a while before speaking again.

“ I think you’re lying to me, Lieutenant,” she said just above a whisper and moved her head to look at him.

“ What?!”

“ Why did you really get in a fight with him?”

“ I already said that he-”

“ Tom, I know what you already said, but I had people tell me what went on, and they told me another story. Tell me what happened, Tom. Tell me why you killed Ensign Clad.”

“ Killed him?! I didn’t kill anyone! What are you talking about?!”

Her shoulders dropped. “ The doctor informed me that he died in Sickbay just five minutes after he arrived. There was nothing the doctor could do to save him. He suffered from a major brain hemorrhage, caused by multiple blows to his head with a blunt object...your fists.”

Tom so was dumbfounded from the news that he was unable to speak.

“ Why did you really do it?”

“ He was sexually harassing Megan Delaney,” he admitted in a whisper and made a conscious effort not to cry. “ Then he started to push her, and then he slapped her across her face for trying to walk away. I couldn’t stand watching him do that to her. She never did anything to deserve it.”

“ Tom, I understand why you thought you should do something, but the length you went to for punishing him for that was uncalled for and actually very barbaric.”

“ I’m sorry, Captain, I never meant to kill him.”

“ It’s a little too late for an apology, Lieutenant, and I’m not the one you should be saying you’re sorry to.”

“ But he’s dead. I can’t say sorry to a dead man.”

Janeway sighed. “ Mr. Paris, we will be holding his funeral tomorrow. I am asking you, no...I am ordering you, to say the eulogy. That’ll have to substitute for an apology.”

“ Yes ma’am,” he said flatly with a nod.

“ I am also restricting you to quarters for one day without luxuries to mourn his death in privacy and prepare the eulogy, then I am sentencing you to a year in the brig for involuntary man slaughter. That is all, Lieutenant. You are dismissed. Security is waiting on the bridge to escort you to your quarters.”

Both Tom and Kathryn felt tears sting their eyes, but only the Helmsman allowed his weakness to show. A few tears rolled down his pale face as he headed out of the room.


Portion of Tom Paris’s Personal Log, Supplemental:

...I often question myself about the things I do. Not important things usually, but I always go over conversations in my head and wish I could rewrite history. Maybe I just think too much. But anyway, yesterday was one of those days I wish I could rewrite. Nothing seemed to be going right. It’s odd how yesterday was the fifteenth of march on the old earth calendar...the ides of march. Beware the ides of march. Hey, I’m no Julius Caesar, but maybe that really does have some sort of meaning in my life. But I sure hope that no one wants to plunge a dagger into my back for what I did. Back stabbers. That’s probably where that phrase came from. But like Caesar’s friends, you never know who can be trusted. And the Pompey in my life is, unfortunately, myself. It’s hard to defeat one’s self, as you can imagine, and in my case it’s even more difficult seeing how defeating myself would mean I will have to pay for what I did. Do what I think is right, then get in trouble for it: that’s how it always goes. I did something that perhaps people will honor me for, but along with that will come my downfall. Suffer the consequences, Tom, suffer the consequences.

One last note: This will be the last log I will make for a year. Until then...

End Log.