Fire & Ice
 

By Sarah Bundtzen
 

Note: This is a K/T story above all, but it is also a Mirror Universe story. I first came up with the idea way back during Voyager’s second season—though at that point, I only had a clear idea of the first section, seen below. Since then, it has grown in my imagination, and undergone many changes—especially since the introduction of Torres’s ‘romance’ with you-know-who. To give you an idea of time period, it simply takes place in ‘present day’ Voyager, though I must regrettably admit, probably before “Fury” (the Evil Kes episode, for those of you who gave up following the series years ago :-). Since this involves the Mirror Universe seen on DS9 and the original series episode “Mirror, Mirror,” you’ll understand more of the details if you’ve seen some of those episodes. But you really don’t have to be familiar with the Mirror Universe to read the story. Anyway, I just hope you enjoy one of my visions of the K/T universe....
 

    Harry felt as if he was floating. His world was a blur. He tried to open his eyes, but found the effort too much to bother with. He sighed, falling further into unconsciousness.

    “Voyager to Kim.”

    Strange, he thought he’d heard something.

    “Voyager to Kim. Harry, respond.”

    There it was again. Harry struggled to regain his foothold on consciousness, but found that he was having trouble breathing. The air bit into his lungs, and he coughed several times. Each cough brought him a little closer to consciousness somehow, and he was able to open his eyes briefly. He suddenly remembered where he was. The cabin of the shuttlecraft was filling rapidly with smoke, as well as some sort of foul-smelling gas—probably engine plasma, he realized, which would explain the burning in his lungs and eyes. Harry tried to move, but his limbs felt like lead. It was probably oxygen deprivation. Soon, he would die.

    “Harry, are you there?”

    It was the captain’s voice, crisp and clear through the sounds of the venting plasma and the raging fire. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but almost immediately realized that it had been a bad idea as he succumbed to a new series of coughs. This was it, the end. Harry’s muscles went limp as he stopped fighting the inevitable. He had always considered himself an optimist, but somehow his optimism had left him. All he wanted now was an end to the searing pain.

    The tingle of the transporter beam caught him completely by surprise. One moment he was dying on the deck of a shuttlecraft, and the next he was being taken apart, molecule by molecule, and transported to Voyager’s transporter room. But something was wrong.

    It wasn’t Voyager’s transporter room.

    The first thing Harry noticed was his clothing. It didn’t feel right, somehow—it was lightweight, and too loose. The next thing was the temperature; it was above Voyager’s ambient temperature by quite a bit. The third thing was the most puzzling of all: the surface on which he lay wasn’t hard like a transporter platform, but soft...like a bed. Harry’s thoughts suddenly blurred, as he realized he must be daydreaming of sunnier pastures. Yes, that must be it.

    Harry rolled to his side, heaving with coughs, trying to expel the toxic gases that lingered in his lungs. He blinked his stinging eyes several times, and felt tears spilling out of them. He felt disoriented and confused, and was reassured when he felt someone’s hands on his sides, supporting him. He decided that it must be one of the transporter technicians. Or it could be an acting med-tech who had been called to the transporter room; after all, they had probably known he was going to be in bad shape.

    “There now, it’s all right. You’re back now.” Harry recognized B’Elanna’s voice instantly. He wasn’t particularly surprised, as Voyager’s Chief Engineer was often called away from her regular duties to assist in an unusual or difficult transport.
She spoke again, “Torres to Bridge, I’ve got him. I’d like to see those damn rebels try to take him again!”

    Harry’s eyes flew open. He realized with a mixture of confusion and horror that his original conclusion that this was notVoyager’s transporter room had been correct. He was, indeed, lying on a bed. He was in a darkened room, and the temperature was above what he would consider normal. His clothing was much too loose, and he looked down in shock to see the dark fabric hanging off of his body. They seemed to be some sort of nightclothes; the upper half was hanging open, exposing the bare skin of his chest. And B’Elanna was behind him....

    He swung around as B’Elanna leaned away from him, startled. He stared at her, not quite believing what he saw. B’Elanna was wearing a very revealing set of night attire which was entirely black. Her short, jet-black hair framed her half-Klingon face in gentle waves. It reminded him of the way her hair had been years ago, when he had first met her. Now she was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him and frowning at his apparent shock. Harry blinked several times. He decided that it must be a dream.

    “B’Elanna?” he asked, “Is that you?” He could hear himself; he sounded like a scared rabbit.

    B’Elanna’s brow furrowed, “Are you all right?” She reached toward him, but he reflexively jerked away. Looking even more concerned, B’Elanna persisted, “Harry?”

    He had no idea what was going on, but in his confusion he decided to opt for what he saw as the simplest explanation, “Tom put you up to this, didn’t he?”

    B’Elanna’s eyes narrowed, “Tom who? What do you mean?”

    With a bit more uncertainty, Harry pressed on, “What’s the other side of the bargain? Is this a dare or something? What’s he have to do to match this?”

    B’Elanna looked increasingly concerned, “What’s wrong with you?”

    Harry suddenly realized that maybe this wasn’t the smartest road to take. “What’s going on?” he demanded, as if he hadn’t said anything previously.

    B’Elanna appeared to relax, though only slightly, “They tried to transport you away, but we managed to block their signal. It’s happened before...don’t you remember?”

    Harry was becoming increasingly aware that this wasn’t a practical joke, so he decided to feign understanding. “Yes, yes of course—I think the transporter gave me a temporary case of amnesia.”

    Without any warning, B’Elanna leaned forward and pulled him into a passionate kiss. At first, Harry resisted, but his resistance didn’t last long. He slid his hands up her body, feeling the powerful muscles underneath the thin night dress. B’Elanna pulled gently away until she could look into his eyes.

    “Does that refresh your memory?” she asked.

    Harry ran his tongue over his lips, “Well...maybe, but I think I just might need another reminder.”

    A slight smile breaking across her lips, B’Elanna started to lean toward him again, but she stopped when a tone sounded near to the bed. Sighing, she rose to her feet and stepped over to a small console, “Yes?”

    “Sorry to disturb you Commander, but would it be possible for you to come to the Bridge?”

    “It’s 03:00 hours,” she said indignantly, “Can’t it wait?”

    “The Regent would like a word with you.”

    B’Elanna stiffened, “I’m on my way. Torres out.” She turned back to Harry, “I’m sorry, duty calls.” She brushed her fingers across Harry’s cheek, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She turned and headed for a smaller set of doors that looked like a closet. She pulled more dark clothing out of it and held it up to the dim light source, eying it critically, “You go ahead and get some sleep, and don’t worry about the Rebels. Now that we have their modulation frequency they won’t even be able to try to transport you away for another few weeks.” She went into an adjoining room, and emerged a short time later, now with her hair tied back and wearing a dark, skin-tight leather jumpsuit that was only a little less revealing than the night dress had been. She sauntered over to Harry, who was still lying on his side, and bent down, bestowing another very memorable kiss on his lips. She then left the room through a different door, leaving Harry alone, with the kiss still burning on his lips, wondering what the hell was going on.

* * *

    Seven of Nine’s fingers flew across the transporter controls, manipulating the pattern lock until it held. She energized the beam, and glanced up to watch the materialization progress. She could discern a figure beginning to materialize, sprawled on the floor. Seven glanced back down at the readouts, frowning. The materialization process was taking far longer than it should. She found a minor subspace disruption in the beam and swiftly compensated for it, looking up again with satisfaction as the figure materialized completely. Harry Kim lay sprawled on the transporter platform, apparently dazed, but not unconscious. He groaned, pushing himself to a sitting position. Seven closed out the transporter commands and approached him. Harry was staring around the platform, apparently still dazed. As Seven came closer to him, his head jerked around and he stared at her in shock for a moment before jumping to his feet and backing rapidly into the rear wall of the transporter platform. His eyes were wider than Seven had ever seen them.

    Seven stopped, “Ensign Kim. Are you all right?”

    Harry’s eyes darted to either side of her before focusing on Seven again. He seemed to suddenly realize something. “Seven of Nine?” He spoke the words as if in disbelief.

    Seven tilted her head; obviously, the damage to the shuttlecraft had disoriented him more than she had previously thought. “Ensign, perhaps you should accompany me to sickbay.”

    “Ensign?” he exhaled, looking even more confused, “What in the galaxy...” Then his attitude suddenly changed, “This must be a dream,” he smiled, “Yes, of course, I must still be asleep.” At that point, he did a strange thing: he reached around to pinch his arm. Frowning, he looked back up at Seven, “It’s not working.”

    Seven arched an eyebrow, “I beg your pardon?”

    Harry seemed to relax a bit, and spoke to the room at large, even though he and Seven were the only ones there, “All right, I’m ready to wake up now!”

    “I can assure you, Ensign,” Seven persisted, “This is not a dream. You must still be disoriented from the damage taken by your shuttlecraft. We should go to sickbay at once.”

    “What shuttlecraft?” Kim was losing his confidence and beginning to look confused again, “What the hell is going on?”
Seven tapped her communicator, “Seven of Nine to security, please report to Transporter Room 2 immediately.”

    Harry’s eyes darted from her face to her communicator and back, “Security? Where am I? Are you a hologram or something?”
“Hologram?”

    Harry stepped away from the wall, squinting at her, “Why would anyone make a humanized replica of Seven of Nine?” He seemed to be talking to himself. “The Rebels were working on mobile holographic technology...are you working for them?”

    “The Rebels?” Seven took a step toward him, “I am curious, what is the last thing you remember before you were transported here?”

    At that Kim smiled, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you? Let me put it this way, I was having more fun than I am now.”

    The doors to the room swished open, and Tuvok entered, flanked by a pair of security officers. Tuvok looked from Seven to Kim, “Report.”

    Before Seven could answer him, Harry, taking several steps forward, stared at the Vulcan, “Tuvok! What are you doing here?!”
Tuvok glanced uncertainly at Seven, then back to Kim, “I am here because Seven of Nine called me here, Ensign.”

    “Why does everyone keep calling me ‘Ensign?’ You’re supposed to be back on the Terran base. You must be another hologram—I knew the Rebels were behind this!”

    “Ensign, please calm down.” Tuvok took a step toward him, but Harry backed around the platform, his eyes on the Vulcan.
“Oh, no you don’t. I know all about the Vulcan neck pinch!”

    “Nerve pinch,” Tuvok corrected, “And I see no reason to use it on you if you will just accompany me-”

    “No thank you,” Harry backed further away from the Vulcan, obviously not in the mood to cooperate. Seven of Nine, taking advantage of his attention on Tuvok, swiftly stepped forward and clamped her right hand at the junction of Harry’s neck and shoulder. The human slumped to the floor.

    Tuvok nodded to his two security officers, “Take him to sickbay.” As the two officers carried the unconscious human out into the corridor, Tuvok turned back to Seven, “I take it that this was his behavior since the moment of transport?”

    “Yes. He seemed dazed when he first arrived, and he failed to recognize me or his surroundings at first. When he did recognize me he seemed surprised somehow and then conjectured aloud that he was dreaming. He also mentioned holograms, and a group called the ‘Rebels.’”

    Tuvok’s brow furrowed, “I see. It would seem that Ensign Kim is for the moment mentally unbalanced.”

    Seven nodded, “Hopefully, the Doctor will be able to determine more specifically what is affecting him. We should report this to the captain.”

    Tuvok’s eyebrow arched, “Indeed.”

* * *

    B’Elanna strode down the corridors of Voyager, studying the PADD she held in her hand. She was puzzling over what had gone wrong with the shuttlecraft. They had managed to beam Harry away just in time, for the shuttle’s warp core had exploded mere seconds later. B’Elanna shuddered, not wanting to think about the possibility of losing Harry again. Three years before, she had watched him slip from her grasp and plunge into the depths of space to his death. Fortunately, his counterpart from a copy of Voyager had managed to step through into their dimension, and Harry Kim had lived on. B’Elanna had always regarded Harry as a close friend, but also as someone who somehow needed her protection. Now, she was just glad that he was safe.

    B’Elanna glanced up from her PADD, hearing a sound from the corridor ahead. She looked around, realizing that she was nearing Sickbay. There was the sound of footsteps shuffling with some effort. As she rounded the corner which led to sickbay, she stopped dead in her tracks.

    Two security officers were carrying the unconscious form of Harry Kim into sickbay.

    B’Elanna rushed forward, “What happened?”

    One of the officers turned his head as she followed them into Sickbay, “He went berserk in the transporter room, and Seven of Nine had to subdue him with a Vulcan nerve pinch.” B’Elanna followed them to one of the biobeds, where the Doctor met them with his medical tricorder. As they set the unconscious man on the biobed, he moaned slightly, beginning to stir.

    “The nerve pinch must be wearing off,” B’Elanna thought aloud.

    The Doctor spoke as he scanned with his tricorder, “The effects of the Vulcan nerve pinch tend to wear off gradually. He should be conscious within five minutes.” He continued scanning as Harry moaned again. After a short while, he stopped scanning.

    “Have you found out what’s wrong with him?” B’Elanna asked.

    The Doctor sighed, “As far as I can tell, he’s as robust as a Klingon.”

    B’Elanna rolled her eyes, “Spare me the ambiguous analogies and get to the point. There has to be something wrong with him if they had to sedate him.”

    The Doctor sighed irritably, “If there’s anything wrong, I’m not detecting it. According to the tricorder, he’s perfectly normal; no foreign bodies, no abnormal cell metabolism—he hasn’t even got a temperature.”

    B’Elanna followed him over to his workstation, brushing past the two security guards who still hovered in Sickbay. “According to our scans, his shuttle was full of toxic gases and plasma leaks. Are you saying that he came out of that completely unscathed?”

    “I’m not saying anything,” the Doctor replied, “I’m simply relating the results of the tricorder scans. I’ll have to analyze the data to see if there’s something subtle that I haven’t noticed.”

    B’Elanna peered over his shoulder as his fingers worked the console. She didn’t realize how close she was leaning to him until he turned halfway around, regarding her with an indignant expression.

    “Do you mind? How do you expect me to get any work done around here?”

    B’Elanna backed off, annoyed. “I’m sorry,” she growled, “I just want to know what’s wrong with him.”

    The Doctor turned back to the console, “I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant, but there’s really nothing you can do right now—though you might consider telling those two gentlemen to get out of my sickbay.”

    B’Elanna sighed, walking over to the security officers, “We’ll handle things from here. You can go back to your posts.”

    “Aye, sir,” one of them said as they left the room. B’Elanna glanced over at the Doctor again, and decided not to disturb him again. Instead, she ambled back over to where Harry lay, still largely unconscious. She rested her hands on the side of the biobed, gazing down at his face. He occasionally let out a moan, and seemed to be mumbling something. She strained to discern what it was, but it seemed like gibberish.

    “Harry,” she tried to speak soothingly, “Harry, can you hear me?”

    When he spoke, he slurred the words, “B’Elanna? Isssthat you?”

    “Yes, that’s right. How do you feel?”

    “Tired...tired.” He seemed to be slipping away again, but then came back, “I’ve had the weirdest dream...Seven of Nine...human...Tuvok...”

    “What about Tuvok?” B’Elanna asked, trying to keep him talking.

    “Tuvok...here...Tuvok’s not supposed to be here...supposed to be back at the base....”

    An alert went on inside B’Elanna’s head, “Harry, of course Tuvok’s here. He’s been here as long as we have.”

    He shook his head slightly, “No, he’s back at the base...he’s leading the Rebels with Smiley and that bastard Bashir.”

    B’Elanna was starting to worry, “Harry, you’re not making any sense.”

    A sudden change seemed to come over him, as if he was snapping awake from a deep sleep. He bolted upright, his eyes wide open, glancing around in panic. B’Elanna took a step back in surprise.

    Harry finally focused on her, “B’Elanna!” He started to slide off the bed, but stopped short. “My god, what happened to you? What have you done to your hair?”

    B’Elanna reflexively reached up, half expecting her hair to be on fire or something, but it felt the same as it always did, “Harry, what’s gotten into you?”

    Harry was now looking at her uniform, “And your clothes...where did you get that weird outfit?”

    “Maybe you should just lie down-”

    But Harry was looking around again now, “My god...it’s still the dream! You’re not B’Elanna, are you? You’re another hologram!”

    “Harry, calm down!” B’Elanna gripped him by the shoulders, “We’re going to find out what’s wrong with you. You just have to trust us.” Somehow, either her words or her grip on his shoulders got through to him. He sat down on the biobed, still looking terribly confused, but also willing to listen. B’Elanna took a deep breath, sitting on another bed across from him, “Now, concentrate. Tell me the last thing you remember before being transported here.”

    Harry responded instantly, “That’s easy. I was in bed, sleeping...I guess it was about 03:00 hours or so.”

    B’Elanna shook her head, “You weren’t in bed. You were in a shuttlecraft, unconscious. The shuttle was damaged, and we managed to transport you out just before the warp core exploded. Are you sure you don’t remember being in a shuttlecraft?”

    Harry shook his head, incredulous, “I haven’t been in a shuttle for years—don’t you remember?”

    “It seems like we’re both having a lapse of memory,” B’Elanna sighed, not knowing what to make of it, “Let me ask you something: Are you Harry Kim?”

    “Yes, of course I am.”

    “Are you an Ensign serving in Starfleet?”

    This time, Harry’s brow furrowed, “No...is that what you think I am?”

    B’Elanna nodded, feeling uneasy, yet relieved that they were at least getting somewhere, “Yes, of course that what I think you are. What do you think you are?”

    Harry seemed to consider for a moment before answering. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked straight into her eyes, “I am a prisoner—a slave—aboard a ship of the Cardassian-Bajoran-Klingon Alliance that has been thrown to a distant part of the galaxy. Now, who are you?”

    B’Elanna felt that he was holding something back from her, but his question distracted her, “I am Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer of the Federation Starship USS Voyager. We were also thrown into a distant part of our galaxy, what we refer to as the Delta Quadrant.”

    Harry tilted his head, “Did you say ‘Federation?’”

    “Yes, the United Federation of Planets.”

    Harry sat back, his breath escaping, “Oh my god...that explains everything.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “B’Elanna, let me ask you this: are you familiar with the crew of Terok N-” he stopped short, shaking his head, “I mean, Deep Space Nine?”

    She shrugged, “I’ve been there a couple of times, but not as a Starfleet officer. At the time I was part of...another organization.”

    He nodded, “About 6 years ago, two members of that crew were transported to what they referred to as a ‘Mirror Universe.’ That’s where I’m from.”

    B’Elanna did remember. “Maybe I do remember that.,” she said, shaking her head in wonder, “The transporter must have somehow accidentally locked onto you instead of our Harry Kim. How could that have happened?”

    Kim shrugged, “Frankly, I don’t know. There is a device that enables people to transport from one universe to the other. I know one of the people who designed it, but I’ve never seen a schematic or anything; I really don’t know how it works.”

    “Is that device the only way to travel from one universe to another?”

    He shrugged, “There’s a legend that travelers from your universe were once switched with their counterparts from my universe. I find this hard to believe myself, but apparently, they were in the exact same place as their doubles when both of their ships tried to initiate a transport. Somehow, the ship from your universe locked onto the crew from my universe, and vice versa. They even materialized in each others’ clothes.” He shook his head, “The odds must be phenomenal....”

    B’Elanna gestured to the black and gold Starfleet uniform that he wore, “It looks as though that might have happened here too.” Harry looked down as if noticing the uniform for the first time.

    “Maybe,” he said, “But as I said, I don’t know if that legend was really true. But something happened back then that made an impression on people. Kirk even talked one of the officers from my universe into questioning the warlike direction that was so prevalent there. This started something of a civil war among the Terrans, which is what started their downfall and the Alliance’s rise to power.”

    “James T. Kirk? Maybe I did hear something about that transport.”

    “That event is an important part of our history—of course, not all that good for the Terrans. If it weren’t for Kirk, the Terrans wouldn’t have started fighting amongst themselves, and the Alliance wouldn’t have risen to power.”

    “This alliance...you said it was Klingon, Bajoran, and Cardassian?”

    “That’s right.”

    “It’s hard to imagine those three working together,” B’Elanna mused, “If Harry—our Harry, that is—made it over there, what would happen to him?”

    Harry shook his head, “It depends on what he does. He probably materialized in my clothes, just as I did in his, so no one will know the difference. He should be safe enough, as long as he keeps his cool.”

    “But you said you’re a slave over there. If they think he’s you, what would they do?”

    Harry displayed a slight smile, “When I said slave, I didn’t mean hard labor, beatings, or anything like that. Actually, I’m pretty well treated.”

    B’Elanna was about to place a further question when the Doctor, who had been busy at his workstation, approached.

    “Ah, I see you’re awake at last,” he cheerfully joined in.

    Harry bolted to his feet, backing away from the hologram, “My god, don’t tell me you have a Louis Zimmerman in this universe as well.”

    B’Elanna shook her head, “This isn’t Louis Zimmerman—it’s the ship’s Emergency Medical Hologram. Louis Zimmerman is the one who designed him. Louis Zimmerman exists in your universe as well?”

    Harry exhaled, “He used to, but he was killed a few years ago—well, at least he might as well have been.” He eyed the Doctor, “Is he to be trusted?”

    “Yes, absolutely,” B’Elanna insisted, “You don’t have anything to worry about on this ship. I don’t know what it’s like in your universe, but on this ship we’re all working together.”

    Harry smiled again, “What an unusual concept.” At that point, the doors to the corridor slid open, and Captain Janeway and Commander Tuvok came through. Harry looked over at them, and his eyes again went wide, “Janeway!”

    Janeway stopped, “I’ve been told that you’re not yourself today, Ensign.”

    B’Elanna quickly interceded, “Captain, this isn’t Harry—well, it is, but not our Harry.”

    “Explain.”

    “He’s from an alternate universe, and we think that he and our Harry somehow switched places during transport.” B’Elanna continued to explain to the captain everything that had been said, and Janeway and Tuvok listened intently. When she was finished, Janeway looked sharply at Harry, who smiled sheepishly.

    “Mr. Kim, can you think of any way that we can switch the two of you back?”

    Harry shrugged, “I’m not even sure how it happened in the first place, but I’ll certainly do my best to help.”

* * *

    B’Elanna strode down the darkened corridors of the Alliance starship Kartayma. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting with the Regent. The commander of the Kartayma was not well known for her pleasant moods, but B’Elanna also detested her Cardassian style of command. Thanks to the Regents tenacity in chasing the rebels, the Kartayma had been thrown by a powerful force from the Badlands, ending up halfway across the Galaxy. B’Elanna sighed heavily; since then, they had been pummeled continuously by various adversaries, including the stubborn Rebel ship that had got them there in the first place. It had been chasing them all the way from the beginning of this voyage through an unknown part of the galaxy. It had been a constant pain.

    But their journey to the far reaches of the galaxy had not been a total loss. If they hadn’t been thrown here, she would never have met Harry Kim. B’Elanna had despised Terrans all her life, ever since her childhood, when the other Klingon children had made fun of her because she looked so Terran. So weak. She had spent her teenage years building up experience in fighting of every kind—from hand to hand combat to targeting phasers in space. She had traveled to Bajor and entered their renowned engineering academy, where she had graduated at the top of her class. She had entered the Alliance’s military forces, reveling in hunting down Terrans—capturing them to be made into slaves. She had hated Terrans more with every day, and her Terran half with them. She had even considered having her appearance altered to make her look like a full-blooded Klingon, but something had always held her back. Meanwhile, she climbed the ranks of the Alliance, until she had become a Commander aboard one of their largest and most powerful ships, the Kartayma. She had served there for less than a year before they were thrown thousands of light years away from Alliance territory.

    And then she had met Harry.

    There had been the beds, the rows of beds...there in the darkened chamber. Instruments suspended over the unconscious bodies.
There, right in front of her, a young Terran with pain on his sleeping face. She’d had a weapon. She could have killed him—killed them all. But she hesitated. And they came, the simpering holograms, and overcame her and the rest of her crew. Then she had awakened, and fought with the white-robed ‘doctors’ who had taken them prisoner.

    Blackness.

    Then there he was, talking to her, trying to calm her. He didn’t seem to be afraid—at least not as afraid as he probably should have been. It was the same Terran who she’d seen in the darkened corridor. The same one she could have killed.

    But she hadn’t wanted to. And she didn’t want to. Somehow, she had known from the start that Harry Kim was not her enemy.
It had changed her entire life. Gone was the automatic disdain for Terrans, gone was the desire to kill them, to enslave them...but she had grown to hate the Terrans on Harry’s old ship. According to Harry himself, they were not exactly the cream of humanity’s crop.

    But such thoughts must wait for later, B’Elanna sighed to herself as she reached the bridge. She took a moment to take in the array of various races of aliens. Cardassians, Klingons, and Bajorans manned the Bridge stations, monitoring their position, positions of possible enemies, and various subspace anomalies. B’Elanna’s eye fell briefly on Legate Damar, a rather nasty specimen of the Cardassian branch of the Alliance. He strolled around the Bridge, hands clasped behind his back, looking over the shoulders of the young officers with a perpetual sneer on his face. B’Elanna, trying to ignore him, crossed to the center rear of the Bridge and tapped the panel next to the door to the Regent’s office. She felt Damar come up behind her before he spoke.

    “She’s busy at the moment,” he told her, “She’s having a conference with the Commandant.” She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he stepped closer, “Somehow, I doubt she’ll be happy to see you.”

    B’Elanna clenched her teeth, “I happen to have an appointment with the Regent, and I don’t particularly appreciate your snide comments at 03:00 hours. What are you doing up here anyway?”

    “There’s been an alert; the Rebel ship is still in the vicinity.” He smiled, “I notice you managed to hold onto your slave again.”
B’Elanna smiled back coldly, “No thanks to you, no doubt.” At that moment, the doors to the Regent’s office opened, and Commandant Neelix emerged.

    “The Regent will see you now,” he said, his Talaxian features clearly expressing displeasure. He glanced sourly at Damar before heading for the exit to the Bridge.

    Torres stepped into the spacious office, the doors sliding closed behind her. She took several steps forward before kneeling before the Regent, who sat upon her command chair behind her desk. She kept her head bowed in respect as she addressed her commanding officer.

    “Regent. How may I serve you?”

    The Regent answered, “I heard about the transport attempt. I trust they did not succeed?”

    “No Regent, they did not. As before, we managed to use our own transporters to lock onto him and reverse the process.”

    “Good. The Rebels continue to be a thorn in our sides, but they’re not the real reason I called you here.”

    B’Elanna looked up at the Regent, “The enemy approaches?”

    “Yes. They will be here within 10 hours, and I fear that they have even more ships than they did in our last encounter. This time I suspect they are not making a social call. They will crush us unless we are clever.”

    “Then we must be clever.”

    The Regent smiled, “My thoughts exactly. Go to Engineering and direct the work on the phase shield. I want it finished before they reach us.”

    “Yes, Regent. Is there anything else?”

    “Send Damar in here on your way out.”

    “Yes, Regent.” Torres rose to her feet and turned to exit the room. The Regent’s request for Damar didn’t surprise her. It was a poorly kept secret aboard the Kartayma that the Regent enjoyed the company of Cardassian males, Damar in particular. B’Elanna strode back onto the Bridge, her eyes seeking out Damar. She spotted him near the center of the Bridge, breathing down the neck of a female Bajoran officer who was doing her best to ignore him. B’Elanna went over to him, clearing her throat, “The Regent wants to see you.”

    Damar straightened, a grin widening on his face, “It’s about time.” B’Elanna didn’t wait to watch him enter the Regent’s office. She went to the lift and ordered it to take her to Engineering. As the lift descended, a stray thought that she had pushed to the back of her mind when the Regent had called surfaced again. When she had kissed Harry the first time, she had noticed something strange about the taste of his mouth. It had been subtle, but it was almost as if he had been inhaling smoke. She shook her head, deciding that it must have been her imagination....

* * *

    For the first few minutes after B’Elanna had left the room, Harry did nothing but lie on the bed staring at the ceiling, his mind whirling. For one thing, he was still quite dazed from inhaling the noxious gases and smoke on the failing shuttle. For another thing, he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. Of course, there was also the tiny matter of B’Elanna. Harry didn’t quite know what to make of the mixed emotions that had flowed into his head when she had pulled him into a passionate kiss. It was all just a bit too sudden. Added to that was his growing certainty that it hadn’t really been B’Elanna Torres at all. He didn’t know who or what she really was. Perhaps she was really a shapeshifting alien trying to manipulate him, or a hologram. He was reasonably sure, however, that it wasn’t a practical joke.

    Finally, when he felt up to it, he sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed and standing, feeling his muscles groan in protest. He really did need some sleep, he realized, but he also realized that he wasn’t going to get any in his present frame of mind. He scanned the room with his eyes, trying to figure out where he was. The lighting was very subdued, and he asked the computer to brighten it. When there was no response, he padded over to the wall by the door, looking for anything that might qualify as a switch. He came across a panel with writing on it that he could just make out. There were three types of symbols: Klingon, Cardassian, and what he guessed to be Bajoran. He groaned; he didn’t know any of the languages well, although he had briefly studied Klingon at the Academy. He tried to read out the Klingon symbols aloud, but gave up, realizing that his studies had been too little too long ago. Finally, grunting in frustration, he picked a section of the panel and pressed it. Relief washed over him as the lights came on full power, temporarily blinding him. As he blinked his aching eyes rapidly to lessen the effect of the light, he realized once and for all that this was definitely not Voyager.

    The decor of the room was most decidedly utilitarian. There were very few items of artistic value in sight. The walls and ceiling were dark, and even the carpeted floor exhibited a sort of harshness about it. Harry went to the outer door and pressed the panel next to it, but it wouldn’t open. He wandered from one room to the next—there were five in all—trying to find some sort of computer interface. Finally, he found a workstation, with a computer interface console. He sat down at it, suddenly wondering if the room was bugged. He decided that he wouldn’t get anywhere if he did nothing anyway, so he touched his fingers to a panel on the workstation, and the screen hummed to life. Harry groaned; more Klingon, Cardassian, and Bajoran symbols. Then he noticed with relief that there were also English letters. He scanned through the words, noting that this seemed to be the entry point into a database. The format seemed somewhat primitive to Harry, more like what Starfleet used to use around 100 years ago.
Harry scanned through the various headings, shaking his head in wonder as he discovered more about where he was. He whistled when he saw the record of Terran slaves, and the unlikely alliance between the Cardassians, the Bajorans, and the Klingons. Harry suddenly had the most extraordinary sense of deja vu. He had heard of this somewhere before—an alliance between Cardassia and Bajor isn’t something one quickly forgot. He was scanning the general history when his eye fell upon a familiar name, James Tiberius Kirk. Harry’s eyes widened as he read about how Kirk and three of his officers had been switched with their counterparts in what they called the ‘Mirror Universe.’ Of course! Everything suddenly clicked into place. He was in an alternate universe—the one Kirk had been transported to. The one crewmembers from Deep Space Nine had been trapped in. The one he was trapped in. Harry thought back to the shuttlecraft—the smoke, the toxic gases, and the repeated hails from Voyager. He had been transported away from the chaos. He had expected to end up in Voyager’s transporter room, or sickbay, or even dying in the cold depths of space. But this...he had not expected this.

    The console beeped at him indignantly. Startled, Harry stared at the message displayed in English: FURTHER ACCESS RESTRICTED TO AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL. He sighed heavily, terminating his survey of the computer system. Whatever this universe was about, he wasn’t going to draw undue attention to himself by trying to cut into unauthorized territory. Obviously, there was a Harry Kim in this universe as well, and they—well, B’Elanna at any rate—thought that he was the one that belonged here.
Harry stood, groaning again as his muscles protested. His lungs had also felt better. Had he been on Voyager, he would have paid a visit to the Doctor, to see if the leaking engine plasma and toxic fumes aboard the shuttle had done him any serious harm. But this was a ship in an alternate universe, controlled by Cardassians, Bajorans, and Klingons. He didn’t even know if they had a doctor. He glanced around the room, and his eye fell upon a wall of bookshelves that he hadn’t noticed before. It was a rather interesting collection of old, paper-bound Earth books, probably from the 20th century. Actually, he mused as he glanced over the titles, they had probably been replicated, perhaps right here, on this ship. He scanned through the titles: Great Expectations, Pride and Prejudice, The Demon-Haunted World, A Brief History of Time, and Moby Dick, among others. All classics from Earth’s past. Harry wondered whom they belonged to, B’Elanna or the other Harry. He shrugged, moving on. There were more important things to think about right now, like how he was going to get home.

    He paused. Home. A couple of years ago, he might have used the word home in referring to Earth. Now, he used it when referring to Voyager. The crew had become much like a family to him over the years. He reentered the bedroom and, honestly not being able to think of anything better to do, lay down on the large bed. As he gazed at the ceiling, he thought of his first days in the Delta Quadrant—trapped in an Ocampan hospital with a crazy Maquis renegade, both of them with goo the consistency of apple pie filling oozing out of festering lesions on their bodies. Over the several days of their captivity, he and that Maquis had formed a bond unlike any other, a bond that had persevered ever since. B’Elanna had often clashed with other members of the crew—even Tom Paris, Harry’s best friend and the man she was now romantically involved with. But she rarely fought with Harry. No matter what mood she was in, she had always used Harry as somewhat of a sounding board to work out the various problems she had with the other members of the crew, usually Paris. Just thinking of Tom made Harry cringe. What would he think if he knew what had happened only a short time ago? Of course, this wasn’t exactly the same woman, but it was still disturbing, almost as if Harry was betraying his friend. It was in this state of mind that he stayed, until he found himself in her arms, kissing her passionately, gazing into her dark eyes, running his hands along her taut, muscled body. He moaned with pleasure, suddenly not caring about Tom Paris or Captain Janeway or anyone else in the world except for her...that is, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head in surprise, staring into the face of his best friend. “Having fun, Harry?” Paris asked him mockingly. Harry pulled away from B’Elanna, turning to face Paris, his hands curling into fists. Paris swung first, narrowly missing Harry as the latter ducked out of range. Harry was just about to strike back when a sound jerked him away.

    Harry’s arms flailed out to the sides, hitting the soft bed with a muffled thud. He breathed in and out rapidly, his heart pounding; he was covered with sweat. He jerked himself to a sitting position as the door chimed again. Harry realized with a jolt that he had been dreaming. He slid off of the bed, stumbling over to the door. He stared at the panel, wondering how he was supposed to open the door if it was locked.

    “Is anyone awake in there?” a muffled voice asked. Harry’s alarm bells suddenly went off—he knew that voice from somewhere....

    “Yes, I’m here. How do I open the door?” He didn’t know what else to say.

    “You don’t. You tell me that you two are decent in there and I can come in.”

    He’d definitely heard that voice before. “There’s just me...and yes, I’m decent, I guess.”

    The door slid open, and a young woman stepped through. She was carrying an electronic mop and a sonic duster. But Harry didn’t notice either of these things. He was too busy staring at her young face, her clam-shell ears, her mop of blond hair.

    It was Kes.

* * *

    Harry continued to stare at Kes, not quite believing his eyes. He may have figured out that this was an alternate universe, and therefore expected there to be other ‘doubles’ of people he knew, but somehow, he had assumed Kes would be a non-corporeal lifeform here, as she was in his universe. She obviously hadn’t been transformed yet in this one.

    The Ocampan was standing in the doorway. Harry was directly in her path, still too shocked to move. Kes tilted her head upwards, glaring up at him with impatience, “Are you all right?”

    “Huh? Oh, yeah.” He stepped aside, and she marched forward into the room, a determined look on her face. She immediately headed for the bed, setting the duster and broom down. She leaned forward, snatching the edges of the sheets and tugging them into place, making the bed smooth once again. She went to the bedside table next, taking the empty bottle and two glasses. It had been Champagne, Harry realized; he hadn’t noticed it before. She took them to what Harry assumed was a replicator and set them inside, pressing a button. As they disappeared, Kes turned and set about tidying up other parts of the room, as Harry slowly came out of shock. He decided to try to get some information out of Kes, although he realized that it would be difficult to do so without arousing her suspicion.

    “So,” he began. Kes turned halfway around, one eyebrow arched. Harry cleared his throat and continued, “How has your day been?”

    Kes rolled her eyes, returning to her work, “So far, I’ve done five sets of quarters, all of the rooms along this corridor.” She gestured in the direction of the outer door, which had slid closed. “I always save yours for last,” she flashed an almost wicked grin at Harry, “I like to make sure I’m not...disturbing you.”

    Harry blinked. It took him a moment to understand just what it was she was getting at. Once he did get it, he felt himself blush, “Oh, don’t worry,” he struggled for something to say, “She left in the middle of the night. The, uh, Regent asked to see her.”

    “Ah, yes.” Kes nodded, “I wish those damn Terrans would just leave us alone. It’s been five years, and we’ve come over 30,000 light years through space, but do those stupid rebels give up? No. It’s bad enough having to cope with the native factions and empires, without having old enemies from their putrid past holding a grudge. Sometimes I just wish...” She hesitated, closing her eyes, “...sometimes I wish the Alliance had let me die, rather than drag me along on this pleasure cruise.” She shook her head resuming her dusting and trying to change her tone again, “You know, that Janeway really makes me angry. Is it true she tried to take you again last night?”

    Harry blinked again, quickly deciding that she probably had, “Yes, but they pulled me back in time.”

    Kes smiled, and he thought he detected a bit of sympathy in her eyes, “Do you mind if I ask you something?” When he shrugged, she came closer, “Do you ever miss the Terrans?”

    Harry exhaled, wondering whether, in this universe, he was happy being a slave on a hostile ship. “Sometimes,” he finally answered, surmising that it was probably, at the very least, the safest answer. “To tell you the truth, I dream about them sometimes.”

    Kes went back to her dusting, “I don’t know, I think they’re just a bunch of poorly educated thugs.”

    “Maybe they are, but they’re still my people. Maybe you’d feel differently if they were yours.”

    Kes shrugged, “Maybe. The fact is, that with them and the Fluidic Coalition—not to mention our current predicament—it seems like we never do anything except defend ourselves. Just for once, I wish we could have some peace and quiet.” She gestured first to Harry, then to the bed, “Even you can’t get a decent night’s sleep anymore.”

    Harry didn’t quite know how to take that, but something else that she had said had interested him, “The Fluidic Coalition...” he wasn’t quite sure how to go about this without her finding out that he wasn’t from around here. He couldn’t just ask outright who or what they were, so he would have to take a guess—and hope that it was right. “Species 8472 is quite a problem, isn’t it?”
Kes stopped dusting and narrowed her eyes at him, “’Species 8472?’ I haven’t heard anyone use that name for them in awhile...since we first encountered them, actually.” She turned back to her dusting, apparently willing to let the matter drop. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as she continued. “Yes, they were a problem. Without those Borg drones we picked up, I doubt we would’ve survived that last assault. But in a way, they weren’t so bad,” she finished, surprising Harry. She picked up her tools and started to leave, “Right now, I’d take a healthy dose of Fluidic Aliens any day, instead of what we have knocking on our doorstep now. At least the Fluidic Coalition came right out and told us that they were our enemies.”
Harry wondered who she could possibly mean as she left the room without another word.

* * *

    B’Elanna gazed up at the huge screen in Astrometrics. Harry Kim stood next to her. He had changed into a standard blue civilian suit, which was more appropriate than the Starfleet uniform he had been wearing, since he wasn’t really an officer. Also present were Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway. B’Elanna’s fingers flew across the control panel, calling up the exact coordinates of Kim’s shuttlecraft at the moment of transport.

    “There.” She gestured up at the area of the large viewscreen marked by intersecting lines. “The coordinates indicated are the exact coordinates of the shuttlecraft at the beginning of transport. And here,” she said as she called up more data, “are the coordinates of Voyager.” Another set of lines appeared on the viewscreen.

    Janeway considered the viewer. “Are there any subspace anomalies overlapping those coordinates?”

    B’Elanna called up the sensor data from the logs taken at the time of transport. “According to the logs, there was nothing unusual.”

    “I did detect a slight subspace anomaly during transport,” Seven offered. “However, it is almost routine to encounter such a phenomenon; it is possible that the passive sensor sweeps would not have detected such an insignificant anomaly.”

    “We’re still within sensor range of the transport coordinates,” Janeway mused. “Run another sweep, this time more in depth.” As B’Elanna complied, Harry drew in a deep breath, his eyes intent on the viewscreen.

    The console beeped excitedly. “I have something Captain,” B’Elanna announced, “At the former coordinates of the shuttle there appears to be a small subspace tear. It wouldn’t have been detected by a passive sensor scan.”

    “How would this tear have been formed?” Janeway asked.

    B’Elanna shook her head, “I’m not sure. It’s possible that it’s been there for years, but there’s no way to know.”

    “Subspace tears have been known to form from certain types of explosions...” Seven joined in.

    At this, Harry interrupted, “Yes, where I come from subspace weapons are used almost as much as photon torpedoes. You load a torpedo with ordinary engine plasma, and set off a quantum plasma reaction. The plasma explosion creates a huge tear in subspace that will pull in ships, asteroids, even planets if it’s big enough.”

    “Plasma explosions?” B’Elanna gasped, “There was a small plasma explosion on board Harry’s shuttle, just when Voyager arrived and we started to try to lock onto him. It’s a wonder the whole thing didn’t explode that instant—it took another 90 seconds for the warp core to overload.”

    Harry nodded, “The shuttle survived as long as it did because the energy of the explosion was used up in creating the subspace tear. It’s a fascinating process, really.”

    Janeway stroked her chin. “Have you ever heard of transporter anomalies associated with a subspace tear?”

    “No,” Harry answered, “But I could see how it might happen. Subspace tears are full of unpredictable properties.”

    “That’s one of the many reasons that type of weapon was banned in this universe,” Janeway replied darkly. “Yours must be riddled with regions that have been rendered warp incapable and a communications nightmare.”

    Harry shrugged, “I’m not proud of my universe, Captain, but it is my home.”

    B’Elanna changed the subject back to the subspace fissure, “So, in your opinion is it possible for the tear to have opened some sort of gateway between our two universes?”

    “I’m not sure I’d call it a ‘gateway,’ but I think it’s possible, based on what I know of how Kirk and his party switched places, that the tear allowed your transporter to lock onto me, while our transporter locked onto your version of me.”

    “Your transporter?” Seven questioned, “You were being transported at the same time?”

    “Yes, didn’t I tell you that?” When the three women shook their heads, he continued, “Well, it’s a bit of a long story. Suffice it to say that I have been on board an Alliance ship for the past several years...”

    “An alliance of the Klingons, Cardassians, and Bajorans,” B’Elanna clarified.

    “Yes,” he nodded, “I was captured by the Alliance, and have since served as a slave aboard their ship that is stranded in what you call the Delta Quadrant. There is also a Terran ship stranded there, and they periodically make passes at the Alliance ship and try to transport me back.”

    “So they were trying to transport you out at the moment that we were trying to transport Harry out of the shuttle,” the captain surmised.

    “Almost,” he answered, “During the rebels’ previous attempts to transport me back, the Alliance has had to use their own transporter to hold onto me. But they must have gotten a lock on your Harry Kim instead.”

    Seven cocked an eyebrow, “Your conclusion is logical, but unproven. And even if it is true, I’m not certain that we will be able to use your theory to switch you back.”

    “The whole key to this is communication,” B’Elanna stated, “Somehow, we have to communicate with that Alliance ship so we can coordinate our efforts.”

    Harry suddenly looked uneasy, “Actually, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

    “I take it the Alliance leader is not the type we want to let in on our little secret?” Janeway guessed.

    “That, and also that our transmission—if we manage to send it—might end up in even worse hands.”

    “The Terran rebels?” B’Elanna asked.

    “Them, and others. This area of space might be relatively peaceful in this universe-”

    “We could dispute that,” Janeway interjected.

    “-but in ours,” Kim continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “there are enough enemies to make life a nightmare. First there were the Talaxians, which for awhile proved to be formidable opponents. But a few of them sold their secrets to the Alliance, which allowed the Alliance to bring Talaxia to its knees long enough for us to get past. The Talaxian traitors came along with us, with several of their smaller ships—their reward for helping the Alliance is a partial claim on everything the Alliance conquers along the way. But then we encountered the Borg. We used to think they were intimidating, but they barely gave us a scratch.” He glanced at Seven, “We took a small group of them with us. They insist that they don’t have a leader among them, but their spokesperson is called Seven of Nine. She looks quite a bit different from you, though.”

    “You said the Borg were not such a force to be reckoned with,” Janeway pressed, “Have you encountered a race the Borg called Species 8472?”

    Harry’s eyes displayed mild surprise. “I haven’t heard them called that in awhile,” he answered, “We call them Fluidic Aliens.”

    “Because they come from fluidic space,” Seven surmised.

    “Dull, isn’t it? Well, I don’t make up the names. If I did, I’d probably call them the Devil Creatures from Hell.”

    “I take it that they’ve been a major source of trouble for the Alliance ship?” B’Elanna asked.

    Harry nodded, “Yes, but sometimes I think that they’re not half as bad as the Dominion.”

* * *

    Harry slammed his fist onto the computer console in frustration. He’d tried every variation of relevant code he could think of, but hadn’t been able to break into the restricted files. Oh, he had more tricks that he could pull, all right, but none of them would get him into the system undetected. And from what he knew of this universe, he didn’t want to get caught doing anything out of line. He was just weighing his options when the outer door slid open. Quickly, he keyed off the console, feeling both guilty and nervous at the same time.

    “Harry? It’s me, B’Elanna.” She poked her head around the doorway into the small room he was standing in. She smiled warmly, “Are you researching more data on subspace plasma reactions?”

    “Uh, yeah,” he replied, “But I was just about to, uh, get some lunch.”

    “Lunch? That sounds nice,” she said as she came toward him. “Mind if I join you?” She was very close to him now, and Harry imagined that he could hear her heart beating as loudly as his. He had earlier changed from the loose nightclothes into clothing of a slightly heavier material, and he found himself regretting that fact as he began to feel very warm indeed.

    “Not at all,” he managed, as she ran her hands up his body. She was leaning toward him for a kiss when he suddenly jerked away.

    “What’s wrong?” She seemed genuinely concerned.

    “Nothing,” he lied, “I just...didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

    “Harry, what are you talking about—you never get enough sleep.” She came toward him again, “I know you well enough to know when something’s wrong. What is it?”

    He looked straight into her eyes. “If I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

    She returned his stare, her hands on her hips. “Try me.”

    So he did. He told her everything he knew, had surmised, or just plain didn’t know about what had happened. All the time she stood there, hands on hips, her eyes wide with shock. When he had finished, she simply continued to stare at him. When she finally spoke, it was in slow, measured words.

    “You’re telling me that my Harry is off on a starship in another universe, and that you are an officer aboard that ship. You’ve switched places through some sort of transporter accident, and you have no idea how to get back?”

    Harry nodded silently, suddenly fearful that she wasn’t buying it. Her tone of voice suggested that she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. He waited as she bit her lip.

    “I believe you.” The words hit him like a welcome rain shower during a heat wave. B’Elanna tossed her head back, looking him in the eye, “If I were anyone else, I might have dismissed your story as a slave’s attempt to break free. I certainly don’t believe that Harry Kim wants to be free of me, and even if he did, he’d come up with a better way to escape. But I’ve heard of this alternate universe of yours...I helped to design the device that transports people from one side to the other.”

* * *

    “The Dominion?” B’Elanna demanded. The words had hit all three women with shock. “In this universe, the Dominion comes from an entirely different quadrant of the galaxy.”

    Harry nodded, “They are originally from a different part of the galaxy. How they got here is a long story.”

    “I’d love to listen,” Janeway interrupted, “But I’ve got a staff meeting and I’m already late. You three stay here and keep trying to find a way to communicate with the Alliance ship.” She exited Astrometrics briskly. Seven went back to work at the console.

    B’Elanna turned back to Harry, “So the Dominion has expanded their empire into the Delta Quadrant?”

    “Yes. About 300 years ago, both the Dominion and the Borg were expanding their borders at an incredible rate. Supposedly, neither one of them had ever encountered more resistance than what they could easily handle.”

    “Until they met each other,” B’Elanna guessed.

    “Exactly,” Harry said with a wry smile. “When they did encounter each other, there were fireworks. Apparently, the war went on for almost a century with neither side getting much of anywhere. Then, something happened to break the stalemate.

    “First, you have to understand that there are three tiers to Dominion society: a ruling class, the administrators, and the soldiers. The Dominion was and still is ruled by a race of shapeshifters. Below them, acting as middlemen, diplomats, administrators, and military leaders, are the Vorta. Below them are the soldiers, called the Jem’Hadar. Both the Vorta and Jem’Hadar consider the shapeshifters to be gods, and worship them as such. The Jem’Hadar and the Vorta are considered more or less expendable, so the Dominion ships engaged in the war with the Borg had been manned by crews of mostly Jem’Hadar, along with a Vorta or two for each ship, to direct them. So, if a Dominion ship was destroyed in battle, there weren’t a lot of tears shed. They simply built another ship, manufactured more Jem’Hadar, and activated a new clone of the Vorta.

    “But one day, a Dominion ship carrying one of the shapeshifters was captured. The Jem’Hadar and Vorta aboard were immediately assimilated, but the Borg had difficulty with the shapeshifter. After failing to assimilate it, they sealed it off in a containment field and did experiments on it. Needless to say, the Dominion was outraged when it found out about this torture, and a ship was sent to bargain for the shapeshifter’s release. They weren’t willing to risk another shapeshifter, so a Vorta called Weyoun led the mission. He used every form of diplomacy he could think of to get the shapeshifter back, but the Borg responded by killing the shapeshifter and nearly destroying Weyoun’s ship. The Dominion vessel limped back to safety. When the news of the shapeshifter’s death was spread, outrage took control of the Dominion, and Weyoun led a new, stronger offensive against the Borg, finally managing to drive them back into their own space. Since then, the Dominion has managed to push the Borg into a small corner of their former territory, and the only reason they stopped there is because of the Fluidic Coalition.”

    “Species 8472,” B’Elanna mused, “So they formed a buffer between the Borg and the Dominion?”

    “In the end, yes,” he answered.

    Seven, who had been half-listening to his story, turned to face them, “I find your story intriguing; in this universe, relations between the Borg and Dominion began just like the events you described. However, when the ship was sent for the shapeshifter’s release, the accounts differ. In this universe, the Vorta Weyoun and his crew were captured and assimilated. A new clone of Weyoun was activated, but he played a considerably different role in the rest of the war. It was he who negotiated the cease-fire after 96 years of hostility. The Borg and the Dominion have never crossed paths again.”

    “Interesting,” B’Elanna mused, “Are you saying that the course of history was completely changed by the outcome of one incident?”

    “History is replete with such phenomena,” Seven observed. The console beeped, and she stepped back to check on the results. After a moment, she turned back, “I must cross-reference this data with the transporter logs. I will contact you when I have retrieved the data in Transporter Room 2.” B’Elanna nodded to her as Seven left the room. When the doors slid shut, she turned back to Harry.

    “So now the Alliance ship is traveling through Dominion space?” she asked, “Are they outright enemies?”

    Harry’s lips formed a slight smile, “That depends on who you ask. According to the Dominion, the answer is no. You see, we negotiated with them to pass through their space—with the latest clone of Weyoun, by the way. They finally agreed to let us through, on the condition that we kept as far away from Dominion weapons installations, bases, and planetary systems as possible.” He shook his head, “We’ve had minor confrontations with them since then, but hopefully we’ll be out of Dominion space before too much longer. I have the feeling that they’re not as friendly as they want us to think they are—and if we ever got into a serious fight with them, believe me, we’d lose.”

    B’Elanna shook her head, “Harry, the way you’ve described your universe, it doesn’t sound like a place anyone would choose to live.” He stirred at this, and she pressed on, “Do you really want to go back there?”

    He froze for a second; he didn’t look at her when he spoke. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

    “Your universe sounds like a dangerous place, Harry.”

    “Maybe it is.” He still refused to meet her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to go back to it.”

    “Harry, you have enemies on every side—the Alliance, the Fluidic Coalition, the Borg, the Dominion-”

    At this, he suddenly turned to face her, an unexpected fury burning in his eyes, “And what about them?!” he practically shouted. “What do you know about them?”

    “I know what you told me,” she answered, a bit taken aback by his response. “You haven’t painted a pretty picture of you home, Harry.”

    “No, I haven’t!” he spat, “And you’re right—we are surrounded by enemies. But do you want to know something? I don’t care. It’s where I live, where I belong. No matter how bad it is—no matter how dangerous, disgusting, or evil—it’s my home, and I love it!” He suddenly caught hold of himself, shuddering with what seemed like rage. He leaned heavily on the console, staring at it and trying to calm himself. “I love it,” he repeated softly.

    B’Elanna stared at him. She had meant her query to be friendly. She hadn’t expected his reaction to be so extreme. She supposed it was his home, but that didn’t explain why he defended it so vehemently. Or did it?

    Before either could speak again, the commlink beeped.

    “Seven of Nine to Lt. Torres. I have retrieved the data. Perhaps Mr. Kim might come and assist me.”

    B’Elanna nodded at Harry, who spoke into the communicator. “I’m on my way.”

    “Can you find it all right?” B’Elanna asked.

    He nodded, “We passed it on the way here, didn’t we? I’ll find my way.” Without another word, he exited Astrometrics.

* * *

    “Ah, Mr. Kim,” Seven greeted as he entered the transporter room. I have the data from the transport logs here. As you can see, there was, indeed, a slight subspace anomaly which interfered with the transport. I compensated for it by narrowing the confinement beam and modifying the shift of the subspace variance.”

    “Yes, yes,” Kim said impatiently, “I see that. From what I can remember about the transfer between our two universes, that subspace anomaly should be sufficient to allow a transporter beam to lock onto someone in the opposite universe, providing they were in the same position.”

    “Do you believe that it would be possible to somehow use the same anomaly to beam you back?”

    He shook his head, “No, I doubt it. I think that the reason it worked the first time was because we were in exactly the same place in our respective universes. The Alliance ship will have moved on by now. Besides, according to these readings, this anomaly is fluctuating rapidly—it might collapse. We’ll have to find another anomaly, with a more secure connection between the two universes. Maybe we should go back to Astrometrics to help B’Elanna find one.”

    “The Astrometrics lab should provide the most accuracy for such a search,” Seven agreed, “However, I believe that scanning for a subspace anomaly with that particular character might best be accomplished with a combination of efforts from both Astrometrics and the Bridge. You may return to Astrometrics to assist Lt. Torres. I will go to the Bridge.” She started to leave.

    “Seven of Nine, wait a moment.” She turned, curious. Harry swallowed, looking at his feet, “There was something else I wanted to ask you.”

    Seven waited.

    Harry looked up at her again, “How well do you know B’Elanna?”

    “Well enough. She is an exceptionally talented engineer.”

    “Would you consider her to be your friend?”

    Seven seemed to consider the question for a moment before answering. “If you had asked me that question a year ago, I most likely would have said no. However, I have grown...accustomed to her presence. We frequently work together on engineering-related matters.”

    Harry nodded, “Then you would know about her personal life.”

    Seven arched her eyebrow, “Such as?”

    “Such as who she’s intimately involved with.”

    Seven sighed, “I am not at liberty to discuss-”

    “Please,” Harry said, closing his eyes, “I just want to know.”

* * *

    B’Elanna looked up from her console in Astrometrics to see Harry stride through the open doors of the room. He glanced at her, but quickly looked away again.

    “Seven’s gone to the Bridge. She’s going to coordinate her efforts with us to try to find another anomaly.” He had stopped a short distance from the doors, which slid closed. He didn’t seem inclined to come further into the room. B’Elanna gestured for him to join her at the console, but he remained motionless.

    “Is something wrong?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

    “Why do you ask?”

    “Oh, not much of a reason, I guess,” she answered, returning her attention to her console, “You just seem a bit...preoccupied.”

    “What makes you think I’m preoccupied?”

    B’Elanna glanced back at him, a slight smile on her face. He was, after all, still Harry Kim—however different in background he might be—and she felt close to him, as if this version of him was also her friend.

    “Come on Harry, I know you well enough to know when something’s bothering you.”

    “Do you?” His question, asked in a monotone that sounded emotionless, caught her a bit by surprise. She turned to face him.

    “What do you mean, 'do I?' You may be from another universe, but you’re still Harry Kim. You’re still my friend.”

    Harry was glaring at her darkly, “If you really know Harry Kim so well, what are you doing with him?”

    B’Elanna was confused, “What do you mean?”

    “Your companion, your partner, your most intimate consort...Thomas Eugene Paris.” He spoke each word and the name with such contempt that B’Elanna’s eyes widened in shock. “Seven of Nine told me about it,” he added as an afterthought.

    B’Elanna drew in a breath, taken aback, “What does Tom have to do with anything?”

    “Everything, unfortunately.”

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I do know Harry. He’s not just my friend, he’s my best friend. He was one of the first friends that I ever had on this ship—he’s been there for me ever since-”

    “Ever since the Ocampan homeworld when you both had apple pie filling oozing out of your necks,” he swiftly finished for her.

    B’Elanna was staring at him in disbelief. “How the hell did you know that?” she whispered.

    “Because the same thing happened to us,” he answered softly. “That’s how we met.”

    “I guess some things are the same in both universes,” B’Elanna said, her eyes distant.

    “Some,” he replied darkly. “We didn’t know whether to trust each other at first,” he continued, “After all, I was a scruffy Terran rebel, the sort she’d been trained to hate. I think she hated Terrans all the more because she was partly one of them. But somehow, she couldn’t quite bring herself to hate me.

    “After days of being cooped up under the surface of that planet, we had started to trust each other. By the time the Alliance ship found us, we were practically friends. When we were brought on board the ship, the other Alliance leaders clearly had plans for me—death, torture, humiliation. They would have loved to string me up and present me to the other rebels triumphantly. But B’Elanna saved me. She’s third in command of that ship, and she has her influences. Even so, she knew she couldn’t just ask them to let me go; that would have been too much. So she told them that she wanted me to serve as her personal slave and promised them that I’d be mistreated. They agreed to her terms, and so I went to live with her in her quarters.

    “Day by day, neither of us had anyone else to confide in but each other. I was alone on a ship full of enemies, and she, because of her human side, had never quite fit in with the Alliance. Our friendship just kept getting stronger—somehow a bond had been forged between us in that Ocampan hospital.” He shook his head slightly, his eyes distant as he relished in the memory. “I will say this...if all mistreatment were like hers, I’d gladly accept it.” His eyes refocused on B’Elanna. Her mind was whirling; she was struggling to comprehend what he was telling her.

    “B’Elanna,” Harry continued, his voice as soft and gentle as possible, “I don’t know how else to tell you this: in my universe, we’re lovers.”

    B’Elanna sank into a chair, speechless with shock. Lovers? Harry Kim and B’Elanna Torres? She felt the blood drain out of her face, and Harry must have noticed it, because he quickly reached out to touch her arm.

    “You okay?” he asked, his voice clearly expressing deep concern. She reflexively jerked away from his touch, her mind still whirling with mixed emotions and shock.

    “I’m fine,” she snapped, not aware until after she’d said the words how harsh they had sounded. Putting her hand to her temple, she sighed, “I’m sorry. I’m just a little...surprised.”

    “It’s okay, I understand,” he said softly. “I guess I should have told you earlier, but I just didn’t know how best to break it to you.”

    “Well, now I know,” she replied, sighing. “What does that change?”

    “Maybe it changes nothing,” he answered, “But I thought you should know before we manage to contact the other side. It’ll explain why Harry and B’Elanna are the only people we can trust.”

    B’Elanna nodded, “I guess I would have found out one way or another.”

    He looked at the deck, “I’m sorry I-”

    “Seven of Nine to Lieutenant Torres.”

    B’Elanna answered the former Borg drone, “Torres here. What’s your status, Seven?”

    “I have located a suitable candidate for a subspace fissure.”

    “Already?”

    “Affirmative. The fissure is stable; it appears to have existed for years. It should exist in both this universe and the Mirror Universe. I am sending the coordinates to you.” B’Elanna’s fingers flew as she transferred the sent coordinates into the imager.

    “That looks promising,” she agreed. “What do you think, Harry?”

    His brow furrowed, “That should be along the Kartayma’s projected course, but there’s no way of knowing whether there are any secret Dominion bases or listening posts in that area. We don’t want them to get ahold of the transmission.”

    “In that case,” Seven returned, “We will have to send an encoded signal on a narrow subspace band.”

    He shook his head, “No, that would never get their attention. First we should send a broad-band signal to get their attention. We need something that B’Elanna or Harry would recognize but no one else would.”

    “Perhaps you and Lieutenant Torres can attempt to compose a suitable signal,” Seven responded, “while I prepare the communications array. Keep me informed of your progress; Seven of Nine out.”

    B’Elanna was frowning, “Harry, we don’t even know if they’re monitoring subspace frequencies,” she pointed out.

    “Well, if B’Elanna knows about the switch—and I’m sure she does by now—she’ll be monitoring. She’ll be sure to notice a broad-band signal. If we could just think of something they would recognize without anyone else being alerted...”

    “What about Morse Code?” B’Elanna suggested.

    Harry shook his head, “Believe me, that would not be a good idea. Believe it or not, the Alliance uses it as their emergency code—they may have conquered the Terrans, but they’re not too proud to use a few of their ideas.” His face suddenly brightened, “But that does give me an idea. I wonder how long ago it was when our timelines diverged...B’Elanna, does your Harry play the clarinet?”

    “Almost obsessively,” she said, finding herself smiling.

    “Lately I’ve been working on the overture to one of Beethoven’s symphonies—I play along with a recording of a symphany orchestra. B’Elanna will recognize it, since she’s had to listen to me practice it for the past week.”

    “Are you sure no one else will have heard you practicing?” B’Elanna asked doubtfully. “According to Harry’s neighbors, the sound of his clarinet is not confined to his quarters.”

    “Oh, I used to get complaints about it, so now I usually practice in the bedroom, and it’s been soundproofed because of...” he paused, suddenly embarrassed, “...other reasons.”

    B’Elanna tried desperately to ignore the tight knot that had formed in her stomach, but it kept getting tighter every time she was forced to think about Harry’s earlier revelation. Pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind, at least for the time being, she stood from her chair, “Well, that’s settled. We can make the modifications to the communications array in Engineering. We’ll coordinate with Seven on the Bridge.” With that, she briskly exited the Astrometrics lab, not waiting to see if Harry was coming. The Terran sighed at his blunder, and followed her into the corridor.

* * *

    Harry Kim watched as Commander B’Elanna Torres bent over the console in their room, swiftly calling up sensor log information. Her dark leather jumpsuit gleamed in the room’s light, outlining the curve of her body. Harry was trying not to look. She straightened and motioned for him to have a look at the screen. He stepped up beside her, staring at the data before him.

    “If I’m reading this right,” he breathed, “there was a subspace flux anomaly at the time and location of transport. Would that have been enough to cause us to switch places?”

    B’Elanna nodded, “The device we use to transport between the two universes initiates a small subspace distortion, among other things. I’m almost positive that the anomaly was responsible.”

    Harry straightened from looking at the sensor logs and faced her. “Do you have one of those devices on board?”

    “Yes,” she answered, “but I’m afraid it’s locked away, and it requires the handprints of at least two of the three commanding officers on board—either that, or the Regent’s security code.”

    “Is there any way to break into it?” Harry asked.

    “I don’t think so, at least not without sounding the alarm,” she answered, her expression dark. “But I can try to find out what the Regent’s code is. Failing that, I could always just knock Damar or Neelix unconscious and use their hand print.”

    Harry smiled, “Then I guess what we need to be worrying about is how to contact Voyager. I take it that we still have to be in the same time and place?”

    B’Elanna shook her head, “No. If we can contact Voyager, we’ll be able to get their coordinates, and use the device to transport you over.”

    “What about transporting the other Harry back? I doubt they have one of these devices over there.”

    “They might be able to construct one if I told them how. If that doesn’t work, we might be able to link transporters.”

    Harry nodded, “That sounds reasonable. But we’d better find a way of contacting them soon. We have to find a natural subspace anomaly before our courses diverge too much. We don't want to lose them forever.”

    “That’s something I don’t intend to allow,” B’Elanna stated firmly, “I will not lose Harry Kim, to this or anything else.” The softness in her voice surprised Harry; ever since she’d found out the truth about his identity, her behavior toward him had been polite, but not exactly warm. He supposed that it must have been a shock to her to discover that the man she’d kissed hadn’t been who she thought he was. When he thought of the feel of her kiss on his lips, he found himself becoming slightly dizzy, and he banished the thoughts from his mind. B’Elanna seemed to notice his expression and quickly gripped his arm.

    “Harry, are you all right?” she seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being.

    “Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, and quickly changed the subject. “Any ideas on how to find a subspace anomaly?”

    B’Elanna nodded, her fingers dancing again on the console, “The one that brought you here is collapsing, but I’m picking up another one not far from here. It’s stable, and I’m sure it permeates both universes.”

    “Do you think Voyager will find it?”

    “If they’re thinking along the same lines, that anomaly is a prime candidate,” she answered. “The first thing we have to do is find a way to send an encoded signal through it.” She smiled wryly at him, “Any ideas?”
 

* * *

    B’Elanna tapped the console one final time, “That should do it. Torres to Seven, we’re sending the broad-band signal through the subspace modulation now.”

    “Acknowledged,” came the reply. “As soon as a response is sent, I will attempt to initiate contact.”

    “All right, keep me informed; Torres out.” B’Elanna and Harry Kim were standing at one of the upper consoles in Main Engineering, near the warp core. They were more or less alone, although several engineers were completing various tasks below them. B’Elanna sighed as she studied the readouts, “You know Harry, between you and me, I’m crossing my fingers. Subspace distortions are unpredictable at best, and even if the transmission gets through there’s no guarantee that it’ll get into the right hands.”

    “Well, if either Harry or B’Elanna is monitoring subspace channels, I’m sure they’ll recognize that this isn’t just white noise.”

    B’Elanna smiled, “I hope you’re right.”

    Harry grinned back at her, “Hey, if it was our idea it has to work, right?”

    “Of course, Harry,” she answered, her smile broadening.

    “You have to admit, we make quite a team.”

    “We always have,” she admitted. Her mind was far away from thoughts of his earlier revelation, and she was thinking of him more and more as a friend. With every second he seemed more like her Harry than the more or less complete stranger that he really was. “I’m just glad you play the clarinet,” she added as an afterthought.

    He smiled again, “Good old Beethoven—he sure came in handy, didn’t he?” As if to emphasize the point, he gestured widely, his arms stretching to encompass all of Main Engineering below them. “Bah-bah-bah Bum...Bah-bah-bah BUM!”

    B’Elanna smiled, “I can’t believe I ever called classical music a waste of time. I guess it’s only a waste if the Doctor’s singing it.”
Harry was shaking his head, “It’s hard to imagine a facsimile of Louis Zimmerman being able to sing.”

    “It’s hard for us to imagine too,” B’Elanna said, rolling her eyes, “Let’s just say that most of us appreciate the Doctor more for his medical expertise than his opera.”

    “No kidding. I remember one time when Zimmerman was trying to sell his idea for a combat hologram to the rebel leaders. He had a prototype, but he’d built so many annoying personality subroutines into it that Captain Bashir had its matrix deleted on the spot.”

    B’Elanna smirked, “Sounds familiar. I’ll admit, there are times....”

    “Zimmerman was still alive when we were thrown across the galaxy, but he was lost a couple of years ago, while we were in Borg space. Apparently, he was trying to talk the Borg into letting him use some of their technology to help him with his holographic research.”

    B’Elanna was sniggering, “And what did they say?”

    “They said they’d think about it while they assimilated him.”

    B’Elanna laughed out loud. Below, on the main deck of Engineering, several crewmen glanced up at them, curious as to what had roused such a whole-hearted guffaw out of their normally stoic Chief Engineer. Harry was laughing too, more at B’Elanna’s reaction than at what had caused it. Finally, they both calmed down.

    “I’m sorry,” B’Elanna said, shaking her head, “I really don’t know what came over me. I guess I really shouldn’t be laughing about the end of someone’s life.”

    Harry shrugged, “Zimmerman’s probably happier as a Borg, anyway—although he’s probably still complaining about the decor.” He flashed a devilish grin at B’Elanna.

    As soon as their eyes met, they both burst into another bout of laughter, neither one knowing exactly why. It was just one of those things about humanoid nature, B’Elanna supposed as she sank to her knees, doubled over with laughter. Harry had collapsed to the deck as well, his sides heaving as tears of hilarity came to his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. As fate would have it, neither realized how close they were sitting to each other until they regained control of their laughter and had enough awareness to realize that they were staring into each other’s eyes; the tips of their noses were literally centimeters apart. Both were frozen in that moment in time, their thoughts suspended. Without either of them really realizing what was happening, their faces were drifting closer together, as if compelled by an unknown force. Their lips were only millimeters apart....

    “Bridge to Torres.”

    B’Elanna jerked backward, nearly slamming into the panel behind her. She tore her eyes away from Harry, forcing herself to focus on the captain’s voice. “Torres here.”

    “What’s your status, Lieutenant? Have you managed to send a message to the other universe yet?”

    “We’ve sent the initial signal. Seven is ready to initiate contact as soon as they lock onto our frequency.”

    “Good work, Lieutenant. Keep me informed; Janeway out.” When the captain’s voice ceased, a silence followed, the only sounds coming from down below. Harry and B’Elanna still sat on the deck, refusing to look at each other. It was Harry who spoke first.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “It was my fault. I guess I just forgot where I was for a minute—and I forgot who you are.”

    “It’s okay, Harry. I don’t know what happened—what I was thinking. It’s been a long day...” Finding that she couldn’t say anything more, she pushed herself to her feet, quickly glancing down at Main Engineering to make sure no one had noticed the strange goings-on on the upper level. Harry stood as well, suddenly seeming uncomfortable in her presence.

    B’Elanna sighed, “Look, Harry, I’m sure Seven could use some help in Astrometrics. Why don’t you go up there and see what you can do with the communications array while I keep an eye on things down here?”

    They both knew it was just an excuse, but Harry seemed relieved, “Good idea. I’ll see if I can help.” He practically fled Main Engineering, leaving B’Elanna alone to confront her mixed feelings.

* * *

    “B’Elanna, come and look at this!” Harry called.

    “What is it?” She was at his side in moments, scrutinizing the console. They both listened to the white noise that was occasionally puncuated by musical tones. “My god,” B’Elanna said, a smile forming on her face, “Harry did it!”

    “Are you sure it couldn’t be from another source?”

    “No, that’s him all right; it’s emanating from the subspace fissure. Besides, who else would play the first eight notes of Beethoven’s fifth symphony in a static field? I should have known he’d choose that as the attention signal—he’s been driving me crazy with that clarinet for a week!”

    “I guess that’s another thing we have in common,” Harry grinned.

    B’Elanna smiled as her fingers danced across the console, “Some things are universal constants.” She isolated the musical signal. “There’s a subscript of encoding here, very subtle...I think they’re telling us to lock onto a frequency of 500 kilohertz.” She called up a submenu on the screen, “Let’s just make sure that the transmission is secure, shall we? There.” She glanced at Harry, “Here we go.” With nimble fingers she locked onto the 500 kHz frequency.

    Harry sighed, “Now all we have to do is wait for them to talk to us.”

* * *

    The computer console in Astrometrics began to beep excitedly, and Seven of Nine quickly tapped her communicator.

    “Seven of Nine to Lieutenant Torres, a reply signal has been sent from the other side of the subspace fissure.”

    “Acknowledged. I’m rerouting power to the communications array. You’re clear to attempt to establish the link.”

    “I am establishing the link with the other ship on a frequency of 500 kHz,” the Borg responded. Harry was standing next to her, looking agitated. Seven glanced at him, “Is there a problem?”

    He seemed to snap out of his inner thoughts, “Uh no, not at all. I was just...thinking about something.”

    “Is that ‘something’ relevant to our current situation?”

    “No, not really.”

    “Then I suggest you try to remain focused on the task at hand.”

    Harry glanced at her, “You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were completely different than the Seven of Nine in my universe, but now that I’ve gotten to know you a little better, you’re pretty much the same, underneath the surface.”

    “Indeed. I am afraid that I do not possess enough knowledge of my counterpart to properly judge the connotations of you statement.”

    Harry let his breath escape, “Never mind.”

    Seven turned back to the console, “They are modulating their frequency to compensate for the subspace variation. The link has been established. Audio only.”

    Harry could hear static, and then a voice hailing them, “This is Ensign Harry Kim calling USS Voyager; are you reading me?”

    “Ensign Kim, this is Seven of Nine. We are reading you loud and clear.”

    “Seven! It’s good to hear you.”

    A second, all too familiar voice broke into the communication, “Harry, are you there? This is B’Elanna—Commander Torres, that is.”

    Harry spoke up, “I’m here, B’Elanna.” Seven noted the relief that seemed to enter his voice when he spoke with her.

    “Harry, where the hell have you been?” came the reply with mock indignation.

    “Oh, you know, running around in alternate universes.”

    “I assume you’ve all come to the same conclusion that we have.”

    “It’s the Federation universe, if that’s what you mean.”

    “Exactly. I think I’ve found a way to switch you back, but it might take some doing.”

    “Let me guess,” Harry mused, “The top-secret device?”

    “You guessed it.”

    “But how are you going to get to it? You know that thing’s top security.”

    “I’ll think of something, Harry,” she answered. “But that’s not what we really have to worry about. A convoy of Dominion warships is on an intercept course with us—they’ll reach us within 2 hours. The ship’s stationary for now because of work on the phase shield, but it won’t be long before the Regent’s going to want to get out of here.”

    Harry’s brow furrowed as he glanced worriedly at Seven, “In that case we’d better work fast.”

    “Yes. I’ll go to Engineering and see if there’s a discreet way that I can delay our departure. Then I’ll see what I can do about the device.”

    Lt. Torres spoke up from Engineering, “We’ll have to calculate the distortion ratio we’ll need for the transporter beam. It should be pretty straightforward, but it’s still going to take awhile to compute. We want you to try to stay in the area, but I don’t want you to put yourselves at risk.”

    “If we get the phase shield operational, we won’t have to worry about the Dominion, but it would also be impossible to conduct a transport. It might even be impossible to communicate with you. Let’s just all proceed as planned.”

    “All right,” Lt. Torres said, “But be careful.”

    “We will.” This time it was Ensign Kim answering, “We’ll keep this line open.”

    “Okay Harry,” she answered, “Let’s all get to work.”

* * *

    Harry sighed as they muted the transmission, “Well, now comes the hard part.”

    B’Elanna nodded, “I’d better get to Engineering—you stay here.”

    “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

    She strode toward the outer door and then stopped in the doorway to the main room, turning back to face him, “One more thing,” she said, her lithe body silhouetted in the light from the next room, “Kes should be by in a few minutes. She doesn’t know anything about this, but you don’t have to try to hide any of it. She is to be trusted.” After he nodded silently in acknowledgement, she turned and left the room.

    Harry let his breath escape. Talking to Seven and B’Elanna had brought him back to reality, and hearing two B’Elannas carrying on a conversation with each other was a strange experience. Also strange was hearing his own voice coming from the other side of the link, from another universe. His universe.

    Harry ambled through the different rooms, not really meaning to pry, but feeling an irresistible urge to explore. He entered the bedroom and stood looking at the large bed for a long time, lost in thought. A glint of reflected light caught his eye, and he walked around the bed to one of the bedside tables. Silently, he picked up the 2-D photograph that had caught his eye. It was of him and B’Elanna—the alternate Harry and B’Elanna, he reminded himself. They were on a planet, in a field of lush, green grass. Harry couldn’t imagine who had taken the picture. Sighing, he set it back down, moving away from both it and his impure thoughts. He strolled over to the small collection of old paper-bound books and selected one, sitting down to read it.

    “Philip Pirrip, eh? Also known as Pip....” Harry closed the book, finding that it brought with it just a few too many unpleasant memories from middle school. “I wonder if they make all the students read it in this universe as well,” he muttered.

    Harry looked up as he heard the door chime sound. Placing the book back on the shelf, he went to answer it. Kes was there, looking annoyed and nervous at the same time. She also looked terribly distracted, as if she had something of paramount importance on her mind. She glanced briefly at Harry before entering the room and going about her cleaning business. The constant chatter that had come from her that morning was nowhere to be heard. Harry wondered if he should tell her about what was going on—but when he looked at her absorbed expression he decided that it could wait. He ambled into the next room, running his fingers over the bindings of the old books. After a short time he went back into the other room, but when he got there Kes was already gone.

* * *

    Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres stood hunched over the transporter matrix subprocessor station on the upper level of Engineering. She was in the middle of a series of calculations for the subspace variance, but she found her thoughts straying to other things.

    Everything was happening far too fast, and she found that she couldn’t sort out her feelings. Part of her kept saying to forget what had happened—or rather, what had almost happened between them. After all, he was from a different universe, and was she willing to give up what she had with Tom just because of a sudden whim? Or was it something more than just a sudden whim...was it, perhaps, love?

    Just then the doors behind her swished open and the man that she least wanted to see at that moment swaggered through. She shut her eyes, knowing that the ensuing exchange of words would not be easy.

    Tom Paris sauntered up to stand next to her, peering at her work, “How’s it going?”

    She sighed, “As well as can be expected.”

    Tom glanced around, “Where’s Harry?”

    “He’s helping Seven maintain the communications link.” She avoided meeting his eyes, not trusting herself to keep an even expression. Paris must have noticed this, because his voice took on a bit of concern.

    “You’ve been working hard for over 10 hours straight, B’Elanna, and it’s getting late; maybe you should take a break.”

    “I’m fine,” she sighed.

    Tom wasn’t convinced, “How about dinner in the Mess Hall? I hear that Neelix has a new concoction he wants to poison us with.”

    “I really have to work on this,” B’Elanna insisted, still staring at the computer screen.

    “It doesn’t have to be the Mess Hall; what about a candle-lit dinner for two in my quarters?”

    B’Elanna slammed her fist down on the console, “How many times do I have to say ‘no,’ Paris?”

    At the moment she finished her sentence, the doors swished open again, this time revealing Seven of Nine. Someone was standing behind her, and B’Elanna cursed inwardly when she saw it was Harry. Not here, not now...it was all happening much too fast....

    Seven stepped through the door, Harry trailing right behind her. His eyes locked briefly with B’Elanna’s before he focused on Paris. The loathing in his eyes said all.

    Seven, oblivious to the tension between them, nodded to Paris, “Good day, Ensign.” Turning to B’Elanna, she continued, “The communications link has been stabilized. As soon as the subspace calculations are complete, we need only wait for your counterpart to obtain the device.”

    “Good,” B’Elanna nodded, but she was paying less attention to Seven’s words than to the two men who were facing each other off.
Harry’s hands had tightened into white-knuckled fists, his dark eyes ice cold as he glared at Paris. Tom, meanwhile, was puzzled as to the reason for the younger man’s reaction to him, and rather foolishly decided to find out just why Harry was glaring at him.

    “Is something wrong, Harry?” he asked.

    “Nothing that can’t be corrected,” Kim replied testily.

    B’Elanna quickly intervened, “Harry, maybe we should go to Astrometrics and check to see that the subspace commlink is stable.”
Seven, typically, failed to realize what was going on and answered just as Harry seemed about to relent, “I assure you, Lieutenant, the stability of the commlink is the least of our concerns for the time being.”

    As she spoke, Harry’s jaw tightened, any glint of cooperation gone. Paris’s brow furrowed as he began to realize the true extent of Harry’s anger.

    “Are you looking for a problem, Harry?” he asked in a somewhat loud and threatening tone.

    Harry’s eyes flashed, “I found you, didn’t I?”

    Before Seven or B’Elanna could interfere, Harry lunged forward, plowing into Paris with enough force to knock him to the floor. Paris quickly recovered, and kicked Harry in the ribs as he tried to get back to his feet. Seven tapped her commbadge, calling for security, while B’Elanna tried in vain to stop them.

    “Tom, stop it!” she shouted, grabbing his jacket and yanking on it. But Tom didn’t listen, shaking her off and lunging at Harry. “Harry, please!” B’Elanna pleaded.

    But neither heard her as they fought on. Tom managed to land a solid hit to Harry’s left eye, but Harry returned with a punch to Paris’s lip. Seven started to step forward to intervene, but B’Elanna stopped her with a hand to her arm.

    “Wait, Seven. Security will get here in a minute. We don’t need you assimilating them both in the meantime.”

    Seven looked indignant, “I assure you, Lieutenant, I would do nothing of the sort.”

    B’Elanna shook her head, “The situation is a little...delicate.”

    Both women looked back over at the men. They had moved away from B’Elanna’s console, and were sparring with each other near the upper level of the warp core. Harry had Tom by the collar and was holding him against the safety railing, pure hatred seething in his eyes, when Tuvok and two security guards raced onto the deck. Seeing them, Harry quickly let go of Paris, backing away slightly. Paris scrambled upright, his blue eyes fixed on Kim with an expression mirroring the younger man’s hatred. Beads of sweat had formed on each of their foreheads, and they continued to glare at each other across the short distance. Tuvok directed his two security guards to keep them apart.

    The Vulcan looked at Torres, “Who started the fight, Lieutenant? Which one is to blame?”

    B’Elanna looked first at Harry, then at Tom, then back at Harry. She was about to answer Tuvok when Harry got there first.

    “I did,” he stated, “I started it.”

    Tuvok raised an eyebrow, “Is this true, Lt.?”

    B’Elanna looked from one to the other, and made a decision, “No.” Paris turned his gaze on her, incredulous, as she continued, “Both of them started it.” She turned away, returning to her work as Tuvok ushered them out. She ignored the look of betrayal of Paris’s face, the one of smugness on Harry’s, and the one of mild surprise displayed on Seven’s features.

    She was fed up with all of them.

* * *

    Kathryn Janeway peered over Chakotay’s shoulder.

    “It looks as though our Alliance friends are in for some trouble.”

    Chakotay glanced up at her, an eager gleam in his eye, “It sure does look that way. The Dominion is advancing from all sides.”

    Janeway pointed to a spot on the sensor grid that was adjacent to the image of the Kartayma. It looks like there’s a nebula less than a parsec from their position. Do you think they’ll try to hide in it?”

    “That may be. Should we head for it?”

    “No. We’ll wait out here until the Dominion’s finished with them. We can go in and pick up the scraps when the hunters are gone.”

    Chakotay turned to smile up at her; the tattoo that snaked its way over the entire left side of his face gave him an exotic countenance that Janeway couldn’t get enough of. “Excellent thinking, Commander,” he said, his hand sliding up to caress her neck.

    They were interrupted by the harsh voice of the man at the helm, “Commander, we should follow them into the nebula.”

    “Attend to your post, Mr. Paris,” admonished Janeway. And I’ll attend to mine....

    Paris stood angrily; he’d been ignored often enough by these two. His disarrayed blond hair framed a red, tortured face with a single, long scar traveling from his lower right cheek nearly up to his right eye. “I’m sorry, Commander, but this is our last chance to get that treacherous scum back alive. Remember what we all decided? Slow decompression in an airlock?”

    Janeway was trying to forget. With her eyes still fixed on Chakotay, she casually pulled out her dagger and gestured with it at Paris. “You’re out of order, Mister.”

    Paris backed away a little, “Maybe I am, but I know I’m right. Be honest with me Commander, do you want the Dominion to get our prize? Besides,” he spread his arms to either side, “Didn’t we agree to test out Zimmerman Mark II on the Kartayma?”

    Kathryn had looked up at the mention of Zimmerman; her interest was piqued, “Very well, Paris. Set course for the nebula, and keep us away from Dominion sensors.” She turned back to Chakotay, a mischievous grin playing over her features, “I guess we’ll get to have some fun after all.”

* * *

    Commander B’Elanna Torres strode onto the bridge, more than a little annoyed at being pulled away from her more important tasks—like getting her lover back. She glared at Damar, “This had better be important.”

    Damar sneered back, “Why Commander, if I called for you it has to be important.” Just then Commandant Neelix arrived on the bridge, glaring at them both.

    “Well, what is it?” he asked sourly, “I don’t know about the two of you, but I don’t enjoy wasting my time.”

    “In that case, I’ll try to take as long as I can,” Damar sneered.

    “Damar,” Torres growled before Neelix could pull out his dagger, “Just get to the point.”

    Damar’s expression turned more serious, “The Dominion is hailing us. The Regent commands that we respond.”

    “Wonderful,” Torres said sardonically, “I trust that Commander Ro is not joining us?”

    “The Regent believes that her talents are more important in Engineering at the moment,” Damar answered. Of course, B’Elanna knew full well why Ro wasn’t there. Each of the three main races of the alliance were constantly struggling to increase their own power at the expense of the other two. It was no secret that the Kartayma was dominated by Cardassians—and the Bajorans happened to be the weakest branch here. When the treaty had been signed with the Talaxians and Neelix brought on board, the Regent had used him as an excuse to exclude Ro, the ranking Bajoran on board, from the command council. What a pity; B’Elanna had always thought that Ro had an ounce of sense, unlike Neelix and Damar....

    Damar was continuing, “Now, let’s get this over with.”

    The trio walked over to stand in the center of the Bridge, B’Elanna standing between the two men. Damar nodded to the communications officer, who activated the comm channel.

    The pale face of a Vorta appeared on the viewer. B’Elanna and the others drew in a breath when they realized who it was.
B’Elanna spoke first, “Ambassador Weyoun. This is an unexpected pleasure.”

    The Vorta smiled, “The pleasure is all mine, Commander.” He nodded to the others, “Legate, Commandant. Where, may I ask, is the Regent?”

    Damar spoke up, “We speak for her.”

    “I see.” The Vorta hesitated, as if he were weighing his options.

    B’Elanna quickly spoke again, “Ambassador, if I may be so bold, why is your fleet of ships headed this way?”

    “Commander, your ship has violated the agreement we made when you first entered Dominion space,” Weyoun replied coldly, “The Dominion does not take kindly to such violations.”

    “And I do not take kindly to such accusations,” came a voice from behind B’Elanna. She and the others turned to bow briefly to the Regent, who had emerged from her office to stand behind them at the center of the upper section of the Bridge, her unusual red hair contrasting with her light gray Cardassian skin.

    On the viewer, Weyoun smiled, “Regent Seska,” he purred, “I am honored.”

    Seska smiled back at him with a false air of warmth, “As am I, Ambassador. But I fear you are mistaken; we have violated nothing.”

    Weyoun’s lavender eyes were cold, “When you were allowed to enter Dominion space you were explicitly told that it was prohibited for you to pass within five parsecs of any Dominion installation, whether it be a Jem’Hadar base, shipyards, or weapons installation.”

    Seska smiled again, this time a bit more tightly, “Ambassador, we have not violated this prohibition.”

    “I’m afraid you have, Regent.”

    “Ambassador,” Seska said through clenched teeth, “we haven’t even detected any installations with our sensors, let alone passed within five parsecs of them. We’ve stayed almost exclusively along the course you directed us to take. The only deviations we’ve made were to uninhabited planets to gather supplies.”

    Weyoun shifted in his chair, “Tell me, did one of those ‘deviations’ involve mining dilithium?”

    “Yes,” Neelix spoke up, “One of the Talaxian vessels found an asteroid rich in dilithium ore. Our dilithium supply was running dangerously low, so we decided to remove a small amount of the ore to supplement our supply.”

    “We only took as much as we absolutely needed,” B’Elanna quickly added, “Surely you can’t object to us gathering supplies necessary to our survival?”

    Weyoun shifted again, “I did allow for you to gather food supplies from uninhabited systems, but dilithium is, I think you’ll agree, a different matter.”

    “That may be, but you certainly didn’t forbid us to mine it,” Seska returned. “If you really wanted us to leave it alone, why didn’t you say so?”

    “Regent, it would have taken an inordinate amount of time to make a list of all the things I wanted you to stay away from,” Weyoun replied. “You should have contacted us to clarify whether it was all right to remove the ore.”

    “All right,” Seska waved her hand to silence him, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe contacting you would have been the best thing to do. But what’s done is done, and since we’ve already incorporated the dilithium into our system, there’s nothing we can do to change it now. What if we were to barter something to you for the ore we have taken?”

    Weyoun shook his head, “I’m afraid there’s nothing you have that we could possibly want.” Weyoun shifted gears as smoothly as a hawk that had sighted a new item of prey, “In any case, Regent, the matter of the dilithium itself is not the reason you are being placed under arrest. In the same planetary system as the asteroid you refer to is a top secret Dominion listening post.”

    “I assure you Ambassador, we detected no such-”

    “It is possible,” Weyoun interrupted, his voice exasperatingly calm, “that you did not detect it due to the Delta radiation from a nearby comet, but the fact remains that you violated the agreement.”

    “But we didn’t know it was there!” Seska’s temper was obviously seething, “How could we violate the agreement if we didn’t know about your listening post?”

    Weyoun’s placid expression did not waver, “If you had stayed on the course I suggested for you in the first place, you would not have come anywhere near that system. I am truly sorry, Regent, but it is my duty as an administrator of the Dominion to place you under arrest and take you and your crew to the nearest base to be put on trial.”

    “And if I refuse?”

    Weyoun sighed, “Why do they always have to make it so difficult? If you refuse, Regent, I will be forced to destroy all four ships under your command.”

    “I thought it would be something like that,” B’Elanna muttered.

    “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Commander,” Weyoun purred.

    Seska quickly spoke, “There’s no need, Ambassador. If you want to destroy my ships, you’re welcome to try. But I can assure you of this: you’re in for one hell of a fight.” She cut off the transmission herself before Weyoun could voice another protest.

    Seska strode around the upper railing and came down to the middle level, where she could speak to her officers more directly.
“Neelix, order your ships to close formation around the Kartayma.” Seska’s voice was solemn, “As soon as that’s done, we’re going to head into that nearby nebula. Hopefully, it will afford us at least some protection while we prepare for battle.” As the Talaxian bowed stiffly and went to carry out her orders at a nearby station, Seska continued, “Torres, get down to Engineering and get that phase shield operational. I want it to have a range large enough to cover all four ships. Damar, make sure that internal security is prepared for a possible boarding. We only have 90 minutes before the Dominion gets here, so snap to it!” B’Elanna bowed her head briefly and left the bridge. Her hands clenched involuntarily into fists as she entered the lift; this was the last thing she needed.

* * *

    Tom Paris and Harry Kim sat in two separate cells in the Brig. They could not see each other because of the partition, and neither had said a word since Tuvok had left them there.

    Harry sat on the bench, against the thick partition that separated the two cells. He hadn’t stopped thinking since B’Elanna had condemned them both. He was pleased to find that when forced to choose between them, she at the very least could not.

    He had started the fight—there was no doubt there. When he had seen the two of them together—and the smug look on Paris’s face—he simply had not been able to restrain himself. Of course, it didn’t help that in Harry’s universe, the words “Thomas Eugene Paris” were synonymous with “ugly scar-face trigger-happy bastard.”

    Harry supposed that this Tom Paris couldn’t be as bad as that, but not in a million years would he say that Paris was the right man for B’Elanna. The very idea was repulsive to him. Harry’s thoughts drifted back to the B’Elanna Torres he’d left behind, and his heart ached. Since they’d first met, they’d barely been separated for more than a day at a time, and it was only now that he realized how much she meant to him...how much he loved her.

    And how much he resented the fact that, in this universe, it was different.

    Different. Of course it was different. In a reality full of an infinite number of alternate universes, one would expect some to be quite different from others. Maybe this universe, different from his own in so many ways, was different in this way as well. Maybe here, B’Elanna had no feelings for him at all.

    But that didn’t explain what had happened in Engineering. What had almost happened in Engineering. For his part, the feelings had already been there. In so many ways she was the same as the woman he’d fallen in love with. But what had been her excuse? Harry had seen that look in her eyes before, the look of desire. Desire that had been hidden in the shadows for a long time. Hidden from everyone, including herself. He’d seen something very like it when he and B’Elanna had made the transition from deep friendship to something more.

    Something much more.

    Harry had never been in love before he met B’Elanna Torres. Lust, of course, and infatuations galore, but never true love. Now that he’d experienced it, he never wanted it to end. He would die for her if he had to. Fate had dealt them poor hands often enough, but they had dealt with them together. So far, they had always triumphed, in the end. Harry sighed. In general, this universe seemed to be a much more tranquil realm than the one he’d left behind. No Fluidic Coalition, no Dominion, no Terrans after your hide, and no one trying to stab you in the back. But B’Elanna made every bit of it worthwhile, and their rooms were a safe haven—an oasis of happiness in the middle of misery.

    Harry looked up at the sound of doors swishing open, and he watched as another security guard came into the room. The sitting guard was already gathering up the datapads he’d been picking at, giving the newcomer a somewhat reproachful look. Must be late for the changing of the shift, Harry mused silently. The new guard settled in as the other left; he didn’t spare the two prisoners so much as a second glance.

    You’d think it was every day he sees two senior officers in the Brig.

    Harry sighed again. He wondered if Paris felt true love for B’Elanna, and again, he felt his stomach twinge at the idea. Well, whether it was really love or not, Harry saw now that he had been at fault in starting the fight. He knew that he should be the one to apologize first.

    “Paris?” No answer. “Paris, you awake over there?”

    “Have you ever tried to sleep on one of these beds?” came the muffled reply.

    Harry suppressed the loathing he felt for the man. “Look, Paris, I just want to say I’m sorry.”

    “Yeah? Tell that to the captain when she comes down here.” It was clear to Kim that Paris was far from overcoming his anger.

    Harry wondered how much was directed at him and how much at B’Elanna. He probably saw her testimony in Engineering as a sort of betrayal.

    Harry decided to try again, “Paris, I just got carried away. What you have to understand is that, in my universe, you’re a good-for-nothing trigger-happy slob.”

    “Thanks for the compliment,” Paris deadpanned.

    “But that doesn’t mean you are,” Harry continued, forcing the words out of his mouth. “I guess I’ve just grown accustomed to hating your face.” Harry fingered the rapidly darkening bruise over his left eye, and remembered Paris’s lip. “Look, I’m sorry I hit you, okay?”

    Paris grunted, obviously not in the mood for conversation.

    Harry rested his head against the wall, deciding to let the matter drop for now. Besides, how do I know this one isn’t a trigger-happy bastard too?

    With that thought foremost in his mind, he heard the outer doors swish open and turned his head to see Captain Janeway and Tuvok enter the room. Janeway turned briefly to the guard on duty.

    “Crewman, you’re dismissed; wait outside.” As the guard obediently left the room, Janeway turned her cold stare on the two jailbirds. Solemnly, she spoke, “I hope the two of you have a very good explanation for your behavior.”

    Paris spoke first, and although Kim could not see his face, he could tell that the older man was livid.

    “Captain, it wasn’t my fault, and I protest being locked up like this.”

    Janeway held up her hand to silence him, “I didn’t ask you whether you felt your incarceration is unjust; I asked for an explanation. Gentlemen, who started the fight?—and I do not want to hear ‘I don’t know sir.’”

    Paris hesitated, so Kim took the opportunity to speak, “Captain, for my part I just forgot where I was and who he is. I know this isn’t an excuse, but I’ve grown to hate Tom Paris over the years, and I just couldn’t stop.”

    “So you’re saying that you started the fight?”

    “Yes.” Harry noticed that Paris wasn’t arguing.

    Tuvok joined in, “That would seem to corroborate what Seven of Nine told me a short time ago. But Lt. Torres insisted that both men were equally responsible for the outbreak of hostilities.”

    Janeway’s eyes darted briefly to Paris before refocusing on Kim, “I don’t have time to sort out who’s right and who’s not—and neither do you, Mr. Kim. Lt. Torres informs me that she needs your help with the subspace calibrations, so I’m releasing you to her custody.” Her gaze shifted to Paris, “As for you, ensign, you’ll be escorted to Sickbay to be treated for your injuries and then to your quarters, where you’ll remain for no less than 24 hours.”

    “But, Captain-”

    “Make that 26; any more outbursts and it’ll be 30.” Janeway’s voice was cold and dangerous; she was clearly disappointed in her officer. “Computer, deactivate both forcefields.” Kim and Paris stepped warily out of their cells. Paris glared once at Kim before stalking out of the room. Janeway stopped Kim with a glance.

    “Mr. Kim,” her tone softened a bit, “What was the real reason you started the fight?”

    “Captain?”

    “I can see that you’re not telling me everything.”

    Harry’s face turned red, “You’re right, Captain, there is something else...but it’s personal.”

    Janeway backed off, “Fair enough, but I don’t want to hear about any more incidents. Is that understood?”

    “Yes, captain,” he answered.

    She nodded, “You’re dismissed. I’ll send the Doctor down to Engineering with a tissue regenerator as soon as he’s seen to Paris.”

    “Thank you Captain,” he nodded to her as he left the brig.

    He headed straight for Engineering, and found B’Elanna almost exactly where he’d left her. She was supposedly working on the subspace calibrations, but Kim could see her mind was on something else entirely. She didn’t turn to see who it was that had entered, but from her posture, it was obvious that she know it was him.

    As he came closer she stiffened slightly. Her muscles held taut, she was like a cat ready to pounce, or a coiled snake ready to strike. Harry had seen this before; B’Elanna often came home in the evening frustrated with the way the ship was being run. It never took very long for Harry to take her mind off of her frustrations, though.

    He decided not to try that, uh, approach here. This time, it wasn’t the incompetency of her superiors she was incensed about. He thought carefully before he spoke.

    “B’Elanna, you don’t have to talk to me. I may not be half-Klingon, but I understand your anger. I’m sorry—about everything. I’m not normally this impulsive, but something about this place has affected me.

    “If all goes according to plan, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough; you won’t ever have to think about me again. You can just go back to the way things were. Tom will get over it—somewhere in there, there’s an honorable man.” Though he was damned if he could see it. “Things will just go back to normal...you’ll see.”

    B’Elanna had relaxed during his monologue, and opened her mouth to say something when her commbadge chirped.
“Seven of Nine to Lt. Torres, we are receiving an urgent signal from the alternate universe.”

    “Patch it through,” Torres replied, and spoke when her console indicated that she would be heard at the other end, “Kartayma, this is Voyager. Do you have the subspace transporter device yet?”

    The transmission was slightly garbled, as if it was going through a lot of ion interference, “I’m afraid not.” It was the other B’Elanna’s voice. “Voyager, we have a problem.”

* * *

    Commander B’Elanna Torres of the Alliance and Ensign Harry Kim of Starfleet crowded around the computer console in the former’s quarters. Torres, who had changed from her skintight leather jumpsuit into standard Klingon battle dress, was speaking emphatically into the commlink:

    “The Dominion is going to reach us in less than 90 minutes, and the Regent’s ordered us into a nebula to give us more time to prepare for battle.”

    Voyager’s reply was somewhat garbled, “Don’t tell me it’s that one we were scanning earlier,” came Harry’s voice, “That thing is packed with ion particles. Once you’re fully inside it, we might not even be able to talk to you, let alone pull off a trans-subspace transport.”

    “The thought had occurred to me, Harry,” Torres answered dryly. “It might protect us from the Dominion until they reconfigure their weapons, but it’ll ruin our plans. The Dominion’s going to be sending a lot of ships to cut us off. Our only hope is to get the phase shield running, but we can’t switch you back while we’re out of phase.”

    “You actually have a phase shield that’s reliable?” Lt. Torres asked from Voyager.

    “Well, we’ve only given it very preliminary tests,” Cmdr. Torres responded, “But I can’t see any reason why it shouldn’t work.”

    “I hope you’re right, but that still doesn’t solve our other problem,” Harry joined in from Voyager. After a moment’s pause, he spoke again, “What we need is something to delay the Kartayma just long enough for us to carry out the transport. We’re almost done with the computations.”

    “I suppose I could short out the impulse matrix processor,” Cmdr. Torres mused. “That would leave us with only thrusters to get to the nebula, and it would take almost as long for us to get into the nebula as it will take the Dominion to get here.”

    “That sounds risky,” the other B’Elanna replied, “What if you miscalculate a little and end up getting fried by Dominion torpedoes?”

    Cmdr. Torres pursed her lips, “What if we-”

    Her words were cut off by the sharp rumbling of the ship’s hull, and both Commander Torres and Ensign Kim were thrown slightly off balance. An alarm immediately started blaring, and red lights flashed from the ceiling. Over the intercom, Damar’s voice called out:

    “All hands, shipwide alert! We are under attack by the Terran Rebels. Everyone report to their posts immediately!”

    Torres swore loudly in Klingon, “Voyager, we have a new problem—I’ve got to get down to Engineering. See if you can work out something with Harry here.” She placed her hand briefly on Harry’s shoulder before jogging to the exit.

* * *

    In Voyager’s Engineering, B’Elanna let her counterpart go without another word. Suddenly, she realized that she was left alone with two Harry Kims to deal with, and at the moment she didn’t feel like talking to either of them.

    “B’Elanna?” his voice crackled through from the other side, “You still there?”

    She tried to shake the feeling of uneasiness that enveloped her, “Yes, I’m here.”

    “I’ve been thinking,” he continued, “that nebula has a heavy concentration of ions, but we might still be able to transport through it if we modify the pattern buffer.”

    “That could be,” Torres mused, “but you’ll still be too far from the subspace fissure.”

    “Not if we link the transporters,” he answered. “With their combined power, we’ll be more than close enough to the fissure.”

    B’Elanna began to nod enthusiastically, “Yes...yes! I think you’re right. We’d probably have to narrow the confinement beam and provide extra power to the regulators....”

    “....but in principle it should work,” finished Harry triumphantly.

    B’Elanna actually smiled, “Harry, you’re a genius. We’ll get our transporter set up; all we need now is that device.”

    “All right, take care; Kim out.”

* * *

    Harry had no sooner cut the commlink when the door chime sounded. B’Elanna was back sooner than he had expected, he mused as he went to answer it. Halfway there, he suddenly realized that B’Elanna wouldn’t ring the chime—she’d just come in.

    “Come in,” he said as he reached the door.

    The door slid open to reveal Kes standing there with her sonic broom and electronic mop. It struck him almost immediately that she looked quite different from the last time he’d seen her. She no longer looked distracted or nervous; now there was a surety and boldness about her movements and her gaze that almost startled him.

    She stood in the doorway, her small stature compensated for by the hardness of her gaze as she glared up at him, her blue eyes flashing.

    “So,” she said as she stepped inside and the doors slid shut, “What’s it like being trapped in an alternate universe?”

    Harry balked, “B’Elanna told you about-”

    “No, she didn’t,” the Ocampan interrupted, “I just know.” The way in which she proclaimed this last part set off alarm bells inside Harry’s head, and he suddenly realized just how it was that she knew.

    “Your powers,” he breathed, “They’re beginning to surface, aren’t they?”

    Kes didn’t answer directly, but he could see from her eyes that he was correct. She regarded him calmly for a moment more before striding over to the viewport, setting her cleaning implements down on the way. She seemed to study the stars for a moment before she abruptly placed a question:

    “Why do you suppose it is that humans torture themselves?”

    Harry blinked, not quite understanding her reasoning, “What do you mean?”

    Kes turned to face him, her hands clasped behind her back and her expression stern. “You Terrans have the uncanny ability to deny your own feelings, not only to others, but to yourselves. You are a prime example.”

    “Me? What do you mean?”

    Her eyes bored into his soul, “I mean that you’re denying the way you feel about B’Elanna.”

    Harry swallowed, “The way I feel...how do you know the way I feel about her?”

    Kes didn’t flinch, “Harry, I’ve grown accustomed to using my telepathic abilities, Let’s just say that it’s written all over your mind, if you know how to look for it.”

    Harry swallowed again, “She’s my friend—a very good friend—but nothing more.”

    “But you want it to be more, don’t you?”

    “I don’t see where this conversation is getting us.”

    Kes began to pace around the room, “Let me put it to you this way, you’re not doing yourself any favors by keeping this to yourself. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face your true feelings.” She paused to briefly lock gazes with him, “And when you do, you may no longer be content with the way things are.”

    Abruptly, she turned and strode into the bedroom. Harry followed her, and stood watching her as she ran her hands over the bedclothes.

    “Every morning I make this bed. Every morning, I can feel the sensations of what happened the night before. I hear the echoes of their voices, whispering to each other. I can feel their passion as if it were tangible.” She went to the bedside table, where the picture Harry had seen earlier still sat. She picked it up, smiling, as if reveling in a memory. “I remember this. A small crew was dispatched on a shuttle to gather supplies on that planet. The Regent trusted both Harry and I by that time, so we came along to help. We split into groups of three. B’Elanna, Harry, and I made up one of the groups. We finished gathering our quota of foodstuffs ahead of schedule, so we had some time to relax. The planet was so beautiful...it was amazing. Harry had taken the liberty of bringing a camera along, so I took this picture.” She held it out to him, “They make a lovely couple, don’t they?” Harry took the picture in his hands. He studied their faces—the looks of happiness, contentment. Harry sat behind B’Elanna, who was leaning against his chest. Their fingers were intertwined. They did, indeed, make a lovely couple. But that was beside the point.

    Harry slowly shook his head, his eyes following the Ocampan as she resumed her pacing, “Even if I did have feelings for her, I’d have to be content with the way things are.” He was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded, as if he were having trouble getting the words out. “She’s involved with someone else.”

    “Yes I know,” Kes said smoothly, “Such an ambiguous word, ‘involved.’”

    “In this case it means she’s in love with him.”

    “She only thinks she’s in love with him,” Kes spat impatiently, “The truth is that without you she is incomplete, as are you without her.

    “You’re two halves of the same whole. You’re Matter and Antimatter. You’re Fire and Ice. Such a combination can be lethal, resulting in mutual annihilation if allowed, but one without the other has no meaning; after all, what is heat without coldness? Without the Fire the Ice grows colder until it’s frozen forever; without the Ice the Fire burns out of control. The Ice calms the Fire, and the Fire warms the Ice—and so it is with you and B’Elanna.”

    Harry was trying to dismiss her words, but somehow he knew that they were true. He swallowed, “Maybe, but I still can’t do anything about it. The man she’s involved with is my best friend!”

    “No matter!” Kes declared, “Even the deepest friendship cannot stand in the way of true love—you two were meant to be together.”

    Suddenly, Harry was angry. Maybe Kes did have insight into his mind, but she was asking him to betray one of his best friends, risk losing another, and put everything on the line just because he thought he felt something.

    “Look,” he began angrily, “How the hell do you know who’s ‘meant’ for each other? Maybe the Harry and B’Elanna in this universe are happy, but how do you know this one’s the ‘normal’ one? For all we know there might be 10 alternate universes like mine for every one like yours!”

    Without warning, Kes crossed the distance between them and literally slammed him into the bulkhead, holding him there at arm’s length. Stunned, Harry tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but she was surprisingly strong for her size—he supposed she was probably using psychokinetic power of some kind to supplement her physical strength.

    Kes’s eyes blazed blue fire as she glared at him, “For all you know? What do you know, Terran? You’re too timid and foolish to see what’s in front of your own eyes.

    “You’re right about my powers. I’ve noticed them more and more in the last few days, and they grow stronger by the hour. They allow me to see things that others can’t even dream of—everything from the complexities of the atom to the fantasies rampant in the mind. I can see beyond this universe, beyond your understanding. I can see everything....

    “Let me,” Kes continued, speaking every word slowly and meaningfully, “tell you something that I can see: there are billions upon billions of alternate universes, dimensions, and timelines where B’Elanna Torres has chosen Harry Kim as her lover—and only one where she has chosen Tom Paris: yours.”

    Her words struck Harry like a phaser blast—no, more like a photon torpedo. For a few moments he was so stunned that he didn’t notice that Kes had released her grip on his collar and was at the outer door.

    “Kes...” he called, and she turned, her eyes still blazing with an unknown fervor.

    “Fire and Ice, Harry,” she answered, then repeated it more softly, but emblazoning each word into Harry’s mind, “Fire and Ice.”
She left the room, leaving Harry at the mercy of his own tumultuous thoughts.

* * *

    Thomas Eugene “Scarface” Paris grinned savagely as he effortlessly skimmed the small Rebel ship over the Kartayma for another weapons pass. Now was his chance—their chance—to get even with the behemoth that had chased them into the far reaches of the galaxy. Right now, he didn’t care about the danger he was in, and he didn’t care that the odds were stacked against the rebels. All he wanted was to hurt that ship and everyone aboard it—especially a certain young Terran named Harry Kim. Behind him, at one of the aft consoles, Chakotay’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he targeted the weapons on specific spots on the Kartayma. He was hitting the shielding around the security barracks hard and fast. Janeway was at another station, monitoring shields and other crucial systems. Jenna D’Sora was in the rear of the cockpit, fiddling with what she called a “mobile imaging projector.” Frankly, Paris didn’t think she’d be able to make it work. D’Sora was no genius like Louis Zimmerman—Paris had always valued her more for her body than her brains.

    Janeway twisted to glare at D’Sora, “Have you got that thing working yet?”

    D’Sora glanced up at her commander, her blond hair falling in front of her eyes, “Almost, Commander. Just give me ten more minutes.”

    “You have five,” Janeway barked before turning back to her station. Paris shook his head, smiling; typical commander—always wanting the impossible from her crew. He supposed that it was like that everywhere.

    An alarm sounded. “Commander,” Chakotay shouted over the din, “The Talaxians are coming around for another pass.”

    “I’m giving them another dose of tachyon bursts,” Janeway answered, “That should keep them off our backs for awhile longer.” She glanced back at Chakotay, “That’s enough pummeling of the security section. Try to hit their aft shield generators—we’ll latch onto their hull there and then transport aboard.” Chakotay nodded silently, not sparing his attention for a moment. Soon, it would all be over. Either they would destroy their foes once and for all, or they would be destroyed themselves.

* * *

    Torres dashed into Engineering, heading straight for Commander Ro. Ro looked up when she heard the footsteps.

    “Where the hell have you been?” she scowled as her fingers raced across her console. “Structural integrity has been severely reduced, and the antimatter containment field is losing power.”

    “Try rerouting power from the secondary systems,” Torres said as she began working at an adjacent console. What’s the status of the phase shielding?”

    Ro shook her head, “I hadn’t had time to work on it more before the attack started, but it’s almost ready.” She reached over and grabbed a nearby engineer, “Here, keep an eye on the containment field levels. Call me if they get below 20,000.” She led the way across engineering to the phase device. It was a nondescript dark rectangular box that would stand about as high as Torres’s knee by itself. It sat upon a platform that put it at a reasonable height for work or maintenance. Torres checked its power levels; they seemed unaffected by the rebel barrage.

    Ro went to the opposite side of the platform from Torres. “There’s just some final wiring to do before we give it a try.”

    Torres nodded, “If we can get this thing going, we should be able to escape from the rebels.” She glanced from side to side; their corner of engineering was deserted except for the two of them. She came around to Ro’s side, “Laren, there’s something else we have to consider.”

    Ro scowled at her; it wasn’t often that someone dared to use her given name, “What is that?”

    Torres knew this might be a mistake, but she didn’t know how to pull this off without Ro’s help. She took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Ro, in a hushed whisper, about everything that had come to pass in the last 24 hours. Ro’s expression turned from one of skepticism to one of surprise to one of confusion to one of thought. When Torres had finished, Ro was silent for awhile before answering.

    When she finally did speak, she did not meet Torres’s eyes directly, “Commander, I’d say you have a problem. If we manage to get this phase shield operational, the Regent’s not going to want to turn it off long enough for you to get Harry back. So we’d better find a more creative way of getting out of this one.”

    “I need to get the device that transports people across subspace. Maybe if we both gave our access codes....” She stopped when she saw Ro’s eyes cast downward.

    “I don’t have an access code anymore,” she explained, “I guess that’s what happens when we make a deal with the Talaxians....”
Torres slammed her open hand against the wall, giving another Klingon curse. “We’ll just have to do it the hard way, then.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “We find Neelix or Damar and use his hand print—whether he likes it or not!”

    Before Ro could respond, the ship pitched sharply to the side, throwing everyone off balance. If the phase device had not been stem-bolted down, months of work would have been lost. Torres picked herself up as more alarms blared, and the lights seemed to get redder. Ro scrambled to her feet, leaping over to a console. Shouts filled Engineering as confusion set in. Torres ran over to check the warp core as Ro shouted over the din:

    “We’ve lost the aft shield generators, and the rebel ship is tractoring us. I think they’re going to dock and board us.”

    “Over my dead body,” Torres snarled, “I’m trying to extend the range of the lateral generators to compensate.”

    A booming sound that traveled the length of the ship captured everyone’s attention. Ro swore in Bajoran.

    “They’ve latched onto our hull, and I’m reading several transporter signatures on Deck 6.”

    Torres glanced up sharply, “That’s the deck Harry’s on—I’m going to get him out of there.”

    “Transporter power is low,” Ro warned, “It won’t be enough to transport anything through the shielding on that deck.”

    “Don’t remind me,” Torres muttered as she pulled off an access panel to the ship’s tube system, “I’ll go and get him myself.”

* * *

    “What’s out status?” Seska demanded.

    Damar’s mouth twisted in frustration, “They’ve penetrated our shields and locked onto our hull. There is transporter activity on Deck 6—5 individuals.”

    Seska slammed her fist on the console, “Get what security we have left down there immediately—and activate the drones!”

    Damar looked up, “Is that necessary?” He never had trusted Seven of Nine and her Borg entourage, and felt that letting them run free on the ship was a mistake.

    Seska was glaring at him, “We’ve been boarded by 5 bloodthirsty Terran Rebels who are likely armed to the teeth, and our security forces have been severely compromised—I’d say it’s necessary!”

    Damar nodded curtly, “Yes, Regent. I’m entering the Borg activation code.”

* * *

    Deep in the bowels of the ship, in a small, dark chamber, nine pairs of eyes flicked open. Nine figures stepped off of their platforms.

    One of them stepped forward, ahead of all the rest.

    “This is Seven of Nine; state the nature of our mission.”

    “This is Damar,” came the voice from the commlink, “Five Terrans have infiltrated Deck 6. Assimilate them.”

    “We will comply,” the nine Borg answered in unison. With Seven leading the way, the Borg exited the room.

* * *

    The first thing Harry noticed was the shouting.

    He had been sitting on a chair in the main room trying to sort out his feelings when he’d heard the voices in the corridor. The next thing he heard was the sound of multiple weapons discharging. It sounded like one hell of a fight out there.

    Quickly, Harry started to search the room for a weapon of some kind. He found a panel in the wall and pulled it loose to find a couple of disrupter pistols. He hooked one onto his belt and pulled his tunic over it, setting the other aside while he carefully closed the panel. Retrieving the other pistol, he went into the bedroom and let the door slide closed. Standing next to the closed door, he tried not to breathe too loudly. Oh yeah, the room had been soundproofed. Fancy him forgetting that.

    The doors swished open without warning, and a man stepped through. He had unkept, sandy hair, a long, thin scar that ran up the right side of his face, and a large phaser rifle. Harry knew him instantly.

    “Freeze, Paris,” he snapped, pointing his disrupter straight at the older man’s head. Paris’s steely blue eyes showed surprise and disdain at the same time, but he made only a half-hearted attempt to bring the rifle to bear. He was apparently not about to take any chances as long as Kim had a disrupter aimed at his face.

    “Drop it,” Harry ordered. When Paris hesitated, the Starfleet ensign pushed his pistol closer, “I said DROP IT!”

    Paris dropped the rifle.

    “Hands up.” When Paris complied, Harry gestured into the room, “Step inside.” Paris did so. “Over there.”

    Paris stopped in the middle of the room, turning to face Kim. “So,” he began, “The great Harry Kim has bested me once more. We haven’t had much of a chance to speak in the last few years; tell me, how does it feel to be a traitor?”

    Kim swallowed, “Is that what you think I am?”

    “Well, call me old fashioned, but I’d say that going to live on the enemy’s ship and sleeping with one of their highest ranking officers could qualify as treachery.”

    Harry’s breath caught, “You know about that?”

    Paris barked a laugh, “Yes, I do. Quite an affair, the two of you have going. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

    “Just exactly where have you heard it from?”

    “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” Paris smirked, “I have my sources. But I didn’t come here to talk. I came here to kill you, and your Klingon playmate as well.”

    Kim wished he knew whether the disrupter had a stun setting on it, though he was beginning to feel it wouldn’t be a great loss to the universe if he fired and found that it didn’t. But his Starfleet instincts still guided him, and he decided to wait.

    Suddenly, he heard another sound from the far side of the room, coming from one of the locked panels. Without taking his eyes off Paris, he called, “Who’s there?”

    “It’s me,” came B’Elanna’s voice, “I just have to enter the security code.” A moment later, the panel came loose and she emerged. “Are you all right? We heard that-” She looked up to see Kim holding Paris at gunpoint. “Oh my god.” She spotted Paris’s rifle on the floor and quickly retrieved it. “So, P’Tach,” she addressed Paris, “Are you enjoying your stay here?”

    “I’m having a terrific time,” he deadpanned.

    “Good,” she smiled sweetly, and promptly shot him in the chest.

    Harry watched Paris fall to the deck. B’Elanna inspected the rifle, “Damn, it was only set on stun. Oh well, the Regent will probably want prisoners. How long has he been here?”

    “A few minutes,” Harry answered.

    B’Elanna jerked her head toward the still open panel, “Come on, before the rest of them realize he’s missing.”

    Harry crawled into the Jeffries Tube-like structure. B’Elanna followed him, pulling the panel back into place behind her.

* * *

    Kathryn Janeway fell into a crouch, aimed her phaser rifle at the security officers, and fired. Beside her, Chakotay, Kelly, and Hogan also fired. One thing about Alliance security officers, Janeway noted with a smirk, was that they were terrible shots. Before long, they had picked them all off, and Janeway stood, waiting for the smoke to clear.

    “Well, it looks like a few of them escaped your little assault, Chakotay.”

    He bowed his head, “Forgive me, Commander.”

    “There’s no need; I would have expected even more resistance than this, in fact.” She glanced back the way they had come, “Kelly, go and see what’s happened to Paris. He’s probably taking out his revenge on that treacherous boy.”

    Kelly nodded her dark head, and jogged back down the corridor the way they’d come. Janeway and the others had only gone ahead a few meters when they heard Kelly emit an agonizing yell. Janeway glanced once at Chakotay before leading the way in the direction of the sound. She turned a corner and stopped short. Kelly was on the floor, convulsing and whimpering, her face turning a sickly pale mottled color and mechanical implants breaking through her skin. Above her stood several Borg drones, their cold eyes already fixed on Janeway and the others.

    “Fire!” Janeway shouted. They did so, and two Borg went down, sparks flying from their implants. But as Janeway and the others continued to fire, the energy beams from their weapons stopped short of the other Borg. The drones began to advance on the rebels, untouched by the phaser beams.

    “They’ve adapted—let’s get out of here!” Janeway shouted, and led the way at a run. She stopped a few turns ahead and fired her weapon at an access panel. The panel came loose with a lot of smoke, and Janeway crawled inside, followed by the others. The panel led to the ship’s access tubing system, and they climbed a deck or two before stopping to huddle at a junction.

    Janeway opened her communicator, “D’Sora, this is Janeway; we’re ready for him now.”

    “But Commander,” D’Sora began to protest from the rebel ship.

    “I don’t have time for excuses,” Janeway snapped, “Beam him in NOW!”

    “Yes, Commander.”

    A few moments later, a fourth figure materialized in the tube junction. He was standing upright, wearing standard Terran garb, and carrying two hand phasers. Janeway stared.

    “D’Sora,” she snapped into the communicator, “I thought you were going to change his appearance to something a little more menacing.”

    “Yes, Commander,” she answered apologetically, “I was going to, but you said you wanted him now.”

    Janeway sighed, “I’ll deal with you later. He’ll have to do for now.” She addressed the hologram, “Do you understand your mission?”

    The hologram answered, “Yes. I am to capture and hold all important crewmembers of this vessel.”

    “And?” Janeway prompted.

    “And kill the rest.”

    She nodded, “Good. Let’s go and cause some destruction, shall we?”

* * *

    B’Elanna kicked the panel open with a grunt. She swung her legs out of the tube and stood up, turning to grasp Harry’s hand and pull him out behind her. She replaced the panel and turned back to the room: Main Engineering.

    Harry looked around him in wonder. The room itself was vast, but darkened. The round column of the warp core looked almost uncannily like that of a standard Federation vessel. Blue energy pulsed from above and below to collide in the middle. At the moment, the pulses were slow, which was to be expected since they weren’t using the warp drive at the moment. Metal grating walkways circled the column at several levels, and dark-clad crewmen crowded around control panels on every level. Smoke was coming from a damaged panel on the main level, and several crewmen were scurrying around trying to conduct repairs at the direction of a surly Bajoran with dark, shoulder-length hair. When she saw Harry and B’Elanna, she barked another order at her subordinates and jogged over to them.

    “Commander, the plasma conduits are overloading, and I have to lock them down before they explode. You two go ahead and start working on a solution to our little dilemma,” she said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening, “I’ll try to be there in a few minutes.” She smiled at Harry and added more quietly, “Don’t worry; I’m on your side.” She went back to her crewmen.

    “This way,” B’Elanna directed. She and Harry made for the room containing the phase shield generator.

* * *

    He strode along the corridors of the Kartayma, both phaser pistols held at the ready. When he came upon a pair of crewmembers, he paused briefly to study them.

    “Cardassian, female. Klingon, male. Not listed as important crew members in my database.”

    The Cardassian and Klingon fired their disrupters at him, but the beams only temporarily disrupted his projection matrix. The hologram looked down at his chest as it reformed. He looked back up again as the crewmembers looked at their weapons in puzzlement.

    “To quote the Borg,” he said, “Resistance is futile.” He fired both of his weapons simultaneously. Both crewmen fell to the deck. The hologram continued on his way.

* * *

    Thomas Eugene Paris groaned as he struggled to sit up. The room was empty; Kim and Torres had escaped. He got to his feet and looked around. Torres had obviously taken his phaser rifle with her...one day, he would make sure she paid for what she’d done to him. But not today. He reached into the top of his boot and pulled out the dagger he always kept hidden there. Better than nothing, he supposed. His chest still aching from the stun blast, he stumbled out into the corridor.

* * *

    B’Elanna Torres stared at the screen. “Reports are coming in from all over the ship. Deck 4 is being swept clean by someone or something—I can’t imagine how. There’s damage on other decks, but not to nearly the same extent. It’s as if someone is just walking along the corridors killing everyone in sight.”

    “Maybe you should give the evacuation order for that deck,” Harry suggested, coming to stand beside her at the console.

    “I already have,” she replied, then paused. “I wonder...they were working on some sort of a hologram that would be able to kill without being injured itself. She flicked through the monitoring screens, “I’ll go see if I can reconfigure the sensors to scan for holographic signatures, but I’m not sure how well it’ll work. They have some sort of dampening field operational. You see if you can spot him with the monitoring devices.”

    “Will do.” Harry flipped through screen after screen. He saw nothing but empty corridors and the occasional dead body. Then he flipped to another new view. He gaped.

    “B’Elanna? I think I may have found the hologram.”

    “Are you sure?”

    He nodded, swallowing, “Yeah, pretty sure.”

    She came to his side. What appeared to be a balding human male of middle age brandishing two phaser pistols was walking across the screen.

* * *

    Janeway led the way through the tube system toward the bridge. Chakotay and Hogan followed her through the maze, trusting in their commander’s knowledge of Alliance starship design. Janeway continued to climb through the dark shafts until she saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks. A shimmering forcefield blocked the way upward.

    Chakotay peered around her body, “Here, let me—I’ll break through that soon enough.”

    Janeway waved him back when he drew his phaser to fire at the forcefield, “No. The moment we fire at that thing, they’ll know exactly where we are, and no dampening field is going to help us then.” She looked past Chakotay at Hogan, “By the way, how’s it holding up?”

    Hogan was concentrating on the scanning device he held in his hand, “The dampening field is stable, but I think the Borg might have a way of scanning through it.”

    “Then we’ll have to move fast,” Janeway replied, “Let’s go back to that last junction and move out into the corridors again.”

    Hogan began to back down the ladder, followed by Chakotay and Janeway.

* * *

    “Ro!” B’Elanna shouted, “We’ve identified what’s been destroying deck 4; it’s a hologram. I’m trying to set up forcefields around it, but emitters on that deck have been damaged. I’m directing security forces to its location.”

    Ro jogged into the room, “We’ve got the plasma leaks under control for now, but they could start again at any minute. She stared at the hologram that was marching along the corridors on the screen.”

    “We’ve set the computer to visually track its movements,” B’Elanna explained.

    Ro shook her head, “Couldn’t they have found anything more menacing than that?”

    B’Elanna shrugged, “I guess old Zimmy left his legacy imprinted on it.”

    “He may not look menacing,” Harry added, “But he’s sure caused a lot of destruction in a small amount of time.”

    “Yeah,” B’Elanna agreed, “I hope security can bring him down.”

    “B’Elanna, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you happen to know how they were able to make him mobile?”

    B’Elanna shrugged, “I don’t know much about it, but apparently the Rebels went on a little trip through time a year or two ago. They got some sort of mobile holographic device along the way.”

    “Uh huh.” Harry went quickly to the view of the hologram and froze the picture, zooming in on its left upper arm. “You know, it’s amazing what similarities I’ve found between our two universes.” He pointed to a small piece of metal, roughly triangular in shape, attached to the hologram. “There. That’s his mobile emitter, exactly the same as in my universe.” He turned to see their slightly perplexed faces. “Our ship’s doctor is a hologram, and he acquired the same sort of device on a trip through time,” he explained. “Tell your security to aim for it. It’s the only way of stopping him.”

    Ro exhaled, “Knowing our security forces, I’d be surprised if they can come close to hitting it.” But B’Elanna was already on the communicator, giving security their new instructions. When she was finished, she came back to Kim and Ro.

    “Now that that’s under control, we can get back to the dilemma at hand,” she stated.

    “We have about twenty minutes before the nebula gets too thick to transport through,” Ro offered.

    “Then we have to act fast. Harry and I will go and get the subspace transporter device while you stay here and make sure the plasma conduits stay under control.”

    “But how are you going to get to the device without two security codes?”

    “We’ll think of something. Let’s go, Harry.”

* * *

    The hologram continued on his rampage through the Kartayma, picking off stray humanoids quickly and efficiently.

    He stopped.

    Ahead in the corridor, nearly a dozen humanoids had come into view, all armed and aiming their weapons at him.

    How amusing. They were attempting to fight back.

    They all fired at him, some of the shots passing harmlessly through his projection matrix. But some of the disrupter beams hit the small device on his left arm, and his matrix suddenly began to flicker. He realized that he was in danger.

    “You must all be destroyed,” he stated, and fired his pistols. Several of the humanoids went down with the first sweep, but the rest retreated around the bend in the corridor. The hologram quickly assessed his situation. The humanoids had found his vulnerability. The mobile device had a moderate amount of shielding, but it would not take many hits to disable it.

    And when that happened, his mission would be over.

    He decided to go back to the docked Rebel ship and enlist the help of D’Sora, the one who had programmed much of his code.

    Perhaps she could reinforce the shielding on the device, and allow him to complete his mission.

    He began to make his way back to the Rebel ship, taking care to avoid the security forces.

* * *

    B’Elanna led Harry along the darkened corridors, holding the phaser rifle at the ready. They had been lucky so far; they had not encountered anyone, Terran or Alliance, to hamper their mission.

    They rounded another corner, and Torres gestured to a secured set of doors, “There it is—the top-secret bunker. We need to find a way to bypass the security code.”

    “I’m pretty good with computers. I’ll see what I can do,” Harry offered.

    B’Elanna nodded, “Good, get to work. I’ll cover you.”

    Harry set about trying to decode the security system while B’Elanna kept a watchful eye on the corridor.

    After a few moments had passed, Harry announced, “I think I’ve got something. The computer code is similar to one used by the Federation. I should be able to break it in a few minutes.”

    “Good,” B’Elanna answered. She glanced to the left and right in the corridor, and froze.

    Someone was coming from the left. It was the hologram.

    “Harry,” she hissed, “drop!” He did so without questioning, and B’Elanna dropped into a crouch, aiming her weapon at the hologram as it turned the corner.

    It was already starting to take aim, but B’Elanna quickly targeted the small device on its arm and fired. The hologram phased in and out of its form; the pistols fell to the floor when its hands momentarily disappeared. Its holographic matrix still fluctuating, it turned and ran back the way it had come, leaving the pistols lying on the deck. As B’Elanna rushed forward to retrieve the weapons, she imagined that she had seen a glint of fear on the hologram’s projected face. No, she decided. It must have been her imagination.

    Retreating to her place next to Harry, she glanced at him, “I hope you’re close to cracking that code.”

    “Why, are you getting nervous?” he teased.

    B’Elanna allowed a slight smile to escape onto her face, “Dream on.”

    Suddenly, a movement from the right caught her eye. She turned her face and her rifle toward it, but it was only Kes.

    “Kes,” she began, puzzled, and felt Harry look up at the mention of the name. “What are you doing out here? It’s not safe....” She trailed off when she noticed the Ocampan was staring at Harry. “Is something wrong? You look different.”

    Kes pulled her eyes off of Kim to regard B’Elanna, “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” Her eyes were wide, her skin pale, her expression serene and confident.

    Harry was staring at her, “My god—the change, it’s coming.”

    B’Elanna turned to face him, “What change?”

    “In my universe, Kes eventually metamorphosed into a non-corporeal lifeform.”

    B’Elanna turned back to Kes, who smiled.

    “Yes,” the Ocampan said, “I believe that is what’s happening to me—it will happen soon, I am sure of it.”

    “There’s just one problem,” Harry said tensely, “In our universe, we sent Kes out on a shuttlecraft. When the change happened, that shuttle was destroyed.”

    B’Elanna glanced sharply at him, “That is a problem.”

    “Don’t worry, B’Elanna,” Kes assured her, “When I transform, I will no longer be aboard this ship.” She turned to Harry and took his hands in her own, her fierce gaze meeting his, “Goodbye Harry, and remember what I said.” She stepped back, “B’Elanna, I wish you the greatest happiness.” Without another word, she had disappeared down the left branch of the corridor.

    B’Elanna turned to Harry, “What was that all about?”

    Harry went back to working on the code, “It’s a long story.”

    “Maybe I should go after her, just to make sure-”

    She was cut off by another voice, “Why Commander, what are you doing here?”

    B’Elanna whirled to face Neelix, who had a disrupter trained on her. Harry jerked his head around, his eyes wide.

    Neelix narrowed his eyes, “Would you mind explaining what you’re doing?”

    “Would you mind explaining what you’re doing?” B’Elanna retorted, “Or are you forgetting that I’m your superior officer?”

    Neelix frowned, lowering his disrupter, “Why are you trying to break into the secured bunker?”

    “That’s my business, not yours,” she answered. “I needed something inside, and I didn’t have time to find you or Damar.”

    Neelix was looking doubtful, “I’m not sure I believe you-”

    Someone hit him on the head from behind, and the Talaxian fell to the deck.

    Ro Laren stepped forward, smiling, “Shall I dump him in the refuse bay now or wait until this is over?”

    B’Elanna smiled, “Right now I need his hand print. Help me.” Together, they dragged Neelix’s unconscious body over to the panel. Harry stepped aside as they positioned Neelix’s hand on the panel. Then B’Elanna placed her own hand on the panel next to it. The panels lit up for a moment, humming, then dimmed again. The door slid open with a groan.

    “Good,” B’Elanna nodded, stepping inside. She quickly found the subspace transporter device and emerged again, smiling, “I think we’re in business.”

    Ro grinned, “I’d better get back to Engineering. You two go on to the transporter room—and let me know when I’m clear to activate the phase shield.”

    B’Elanna nodded, “I’ll contact you as soon as both transports are complete.” She gestured to Neelix, “Just leave him here. I’ll say one of the rebels hit him and then escaped.”

    “All right,” Ro agreed, turning to Harry, “Good luck.”

    As Ro headed for Engineering, B’Elanna and Harry started off toward the transporter room.

* * *

    Commander Kathryn Janeway was on the brink of victory. The meager security forces that protected the Bridge were easily dealt with by Janeway and her two remaining officers. All three were excellent marksmen, and before long, the Bridge was theirs for the taking. Janeway and her officers stormed onto it, phasers firing, taking down the crew one by one. When the firing was done, Hogan went immediately to the tactical station while Chakotay and Janeway inspected the bodies of the crew.

    “The Dominion fleet is still almost 30 minutes away,” Hogan announced.

    Janeway rolled the last crewman over to inspect his face, “None of the senior officers is here,” she stated.

    Chakotay gestured to the closed doors at the rear of the Bridge, “Maybe some of them are in the Regent’s office,” he suggested.

    Janeway nodded, “Hogan, make sure no one gets in here,” to Chakotay, “Let’s go.” She and Chakotay headed for the Regent’s office. When the doors wouldn’t open, Janeway gestured with her rifle, and they fired at the center locking portion of the doors. The doors slid open and the two rebels dashed inside.

    The Regent was there, sitting calmly behind her desk. Legate Damar, her second in command, stood next to her, a grim expression on his face. Neither of them appeared to be armed. Janeway grinned gleefully.

    “So, at last we have you,” she said, aiming her rifle at the Regent. She felt Chakotay do the same.

    The Regent’s expression was placid, “I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you.”

    “No?” Janeway’s smile widened, “I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”

    She and Chakotay fired their phasers.

    Regent Seska and Legate Damar remained untouched.

    Janeway’s eyes widened as she turned to Chakotay, “A forcefield!”

    Hogan’s blood-curdling scream from the Bridge caused them both to turn back to the still open doors just in time to see a Borg drone pull its assimilation tubules out of the lieutenant’s neck. Janeway turned back to the now smiling Seska and Damar, but four Borg emerged from the darkened sides of the room to grasp Janeway and Chakotay by the arms, taking their rifles.

    “Wait, Seven,” Seska commanded. “Don’t assimilate them yet. I’d like a few words with them first.”

    Janeway spit in Seska’s direction, “You won't get anything out of us—we’ll never talk!”

    Seska smiled, “Don’t be so sure.”

    Janeway exchanged a helpless glance with Chakotay, realizing they had failed for the last time. Borgdom, here we come.

* * *

    Tom “Scarface” Paris skidded to a halt. There was a body in the middle of the corridor.

    A Talaxian.

    Paris recognized him as Neelix, the Talaxian who had betrayed his own people to the Alliance and secured a high-ranking position for himself on the Kartayma.

    Just my kind of guy.

    Deciding he would make a useful prisoner, Paris began to drag Neelix toward the Rebel ship.

* * *

    Jenna D’Sora paced back and forth in the cramped space of the tiny ship. She was waiting for someone, anyone, to come back.

    The hologram stumbled through the hatch. Jenna gasped. Its holomatrix was fluctuating violently. It was a wonder it had made it back to the ship.

    “What happened?” she exclaimed.

    “The security officers managed to hit my mobile projection emitter,” he answered.

    “Well hold still. I’ll try to repair it.”

    A voice called from the corridor, “Jenna? Give me a hand!”

    “Tom, is that you?” She left the hologram and stepped through the hatch and airlock into the corridor of the Kartayma. Tom Paris was dragging a body toward her with a moderate amount of effort. Quickly, she went to his aid.

    “It’s Neelix, the Talaxian Commandant,” he explained. “I thought he would make a good prisoner. Might as well get something out of this endeavor.”

    “Where are the others?”

    He shook his head, “Dead, assimilated...I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care—I’d just as soon leave Janeway and Chakotay behind.” He stopped, looking up at the hologram, which had come to the edge of the airlock, “What’s he doing here?”

    “His emitter was damaged by Alliance security,” D’Sora explained.

    “Well, I guess he might as well come along,” Paris grunted, heaving the Talaxian over the edge of the airlock.

    Jenna spotted movement behind him, and aimed her phaser, “Tom, look out!”

    Paris turned to see a petite young woman standing at the threshold of the airlock. She had a mop of blond hair, soft, pink lips, and striking blue eyes.

    Mmm...just my type....

    “Hello, what have we here?” he asked in his most seductive voice.

    Jenna rolled her eyes, “Tom, she’s one of them—she can’t be trusted.”

    The young woman was smiling at Paris, who didn’t seem to be paying attentionto D’Sora’s warning, “I want to come with you.”
Tom smiled back, “Do you now?”

    “Tom!” Jenna pleaded, but Paris turned and gently pushed the rifle down.

    “It’s okay, Jenna. Let her talk.”

    The young woman approached Paris slowly, reaching out to touch his chest, “I was captured by the Alliance—taken from my homeworld. I’ve been a slave ever since...I just want to get away from them.” Both of her hands were sliding up to caress his neck now, and Paris couldn’t say he minded.

    D’Sora sighed, retreating back into their ship. She knew when the battle was lost.

    “Well,” Paris was saying, stroking the woman’s face with his own hand, “We’ve lost a few of our people...I’m sure we could make room for you...uh...what’s your name?”

    “Kes,” she breathed, running her fingers over his lips, “I’m sure we can have lots of fun together.” Her blue eyes laughed seductively.

    Paris didn’t doubt it.

    Kes pulled away from him and stepped over Neelix into the Terran ship. The hologram was eying her in a way Paris wasn’t sure he liked, so he cleared his throat.

    “Help me with this, would you?” They carried Neelix into the ship, sealing the airlock behind them. They left the Talaxian sprawled in the aft section.

    Paris paused at the entrance to the cockpit, running a finger along Kes’s jaw line. The Ocampan was sitting in a seat at the rear of the cockpit, behind everyone else. Paris went on to his seat in the front of the cockpit, next to a sour looking Jenna D’Sora. She’ll get over it, he told himself, they always do, in the end....

    The hologram, for want of anything better to do, crossed his arms over his chest, sighing loudly.

    Paris glanced back in his direction, “Why don’t you just go belowdecks and see if you can stop yourself from flickering?”

    The hologram looked extremely disgruntled, “I’m an assassin, not an engineer.”

    Paris shook his head, “Jenna will fix you as soon as we get clear of this mess.” The hologram sighed again, and went to stand near the rear of the cockpit, beside Kes.

    Paris concentrated on getting the ship clear of the Kartayma, “I’m disengaging the locking clamps.”

    D’Sora closed her eyes, “I still think we ought to wait.”

    “Get it through your head, Jenna. Paul ‘Playboy’ Hogan and all the others are probably dead or assimilated by now. There’s no point.”

    D’Sora fell silent after that, completing the disembarking procedures grudgingly. Paris was glad Hogan was gone anyway—the last thing he needed was a competitor for the affections of the female crew.

    “We’re clear of the Kartayma’s hull; I’m engaging primary thrusters,” he announced.

    The little ship moved away from the humongous hulk of the Kartayma.

    D’Sora’s voice sounded an alarm, “They’re targeting us with their disrupter banks!”

    “This ought to get them off our backs,” Paris remarked as he deftly executed a few evasive maneuvers. He felt a disrupter blast that skimmed a little too closely off to starboard. “I’m engaging impulse engines.”

    “We’re clearing the last traces of the nebula,” Jenna announced a few moments later.

    “Good,” Paris nodded, “They won’t turn around—they’re too afraid of the...” He trailed off as he saw blips on his scope. A hell of a lot of blips.

    D’Sora’s voice was full of panic this time, “My god, they’re everywhere—Dominion ships, a whole fleet of them!”

    Paris swore under his breath as he looked for a way out. But the Dominion fleet was big, and closing in on the Terrans quickly.

    “There’s no way out!” he half-shouted.

    “Yes there is!” D’Sora shot back, “Turn around, back into the nebula!”

    “Are you crazy? We can’t go back there—the Alliance will destroy us!”

    “I’d rather take my chances with them than with the Dominion!” D’Sora shot back.

    “I wonder if I might say something,” the hologram began.

    “No you may not,” Paris snapped. “Look, Jenna, if the Dominion captures us, we get made into slaves. If the Alliance captures us, we get made into Borg drones. Are you trying to tell me that option number two sounds better?”

    “Excuse me-” the hologram began again.

    D’Sora and Paris both ignored him.

    “All I’m saying,” Jenna returned, “is that we have more chance of evading both the Alliance and the Dominion if we hide in the nebula.”

    Paris swallowed, glancing again at the huge Dominion fleet. He hated to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, she was right for once. The nebula would certainly obscure their enemies’ sensors. The only way to find them would be to look out a window.

    Slowly, he turned back to his station, “All right, I’m turning the ship around.”

    The hologram spoke again. “Now that your little domestic spat is over with, I’d like to tell you that the wall is rippling.”

    His words didn’t register with D’Sora for a moment, “What?!” She turned to see that the hologram’s description was, indeed, quite accurate. The walls of the rear of the cockpit were rippling and changing shape. And the disturbance seemed to center around Kes.

    Paris was pounding his console, “The helm’s not responding! There’s something wrong with the thrusters.”

    “Tom, look!” D’Sora pointed at Kes. Paris turned around to look at the perplexing sight, even as their comm system activated.

    “Terran ship,” a smarmy voice purred over the channel, “You are trespassing upon Dominion territory. Please lower your shields and prepare to be beamed aboard our ship.”

    Paris and the others ignored the voice. Paris stared at the beautiful woman, her lovely face a serene expression of calm. Jenna was shouting something about structural integrity, then shields, then life support...but Paris only saw Kes’s face as he felt a tingling sensation over his whole body.

    He had a bad feeling about this.

    The ship exploded in a brilliant flash of light.

* * *

    Commander Torres and Ensign Kim dashed into one of the Kartayma’s transporter rooms. Harry made immediately for the control console.

    “Transporter power has been drained,” he said in dismay.

    “Don’t worry,” B’Elanna reassured him, crossing to a wall panel and kicking it open, “I can override the rerouting system. We’ll have plenty of power when the need arises.” She fiddled with a few connections inside the panel. “There, that should do it.”

    Harry smiled as the transporter console lit up, “We’re back to full power.”

    B’Elanna came to his side, “Let’s see now.” She reached into the satchel she wore at her left side and pulled out the subspace transporter device. “In theory, this thing should be able to work on its own, without a main transporter to power it. But in this case, its range is too small.”

    “So you’re going to connect it directly to the main transporter circuitry?” Harry asked.

    She nodded, “Yes. The two systems should already be compatible, so this shouldn’t be difficult.” She entered a few commands on the console, then plugged the subspace adapter into a port on the side of the console.

    The device began to glow from its tiny power core inside.

    B’Elanna smiled, “Everything seems to be working.” She glanced at Harry as she went to another console, “The next step is to contact the other side.” She began to initiate the communications system.
 

    On Voyager, Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres stood in Transporter Room 2 with Harry Kim and Seven of Nine. Torres and Kim had barely said a word to each other since the last communication with the Kartayma, and now continued their mutual silence as Seven and B’Elanna worked at the transporter console.

    The wall panel behind them beeped, and Seven turned to see to it. “We are receiving a communication from the Kartayma,” she announced.

    A moment later, the voice of Commander B’Elanna Torres came through, “Torres to Voyager, come in please.”

    Lt. Torres answered, “This is Voyager, go ahead.”

    “We’ve obtained the subspace transporter device and have linked it to our main transporter. We’re standing by to link our transporter beam with yours.”

    “Understood,” Lt. Torres nodded, “Who’s going first?”

    The line crackled, “It doesn’t matter—just so it’s soon.”

    “All right. I’ll send the Harry from this side over first,” Lt. Torres decided. Harry obediently stepped onto one of the transporter pads. Suddenly, B’Elanna hit the mute button on the transmission, looking up at Harry.

    “Harry...” she began, “...I just want to say something. About what you said earlier...” She looked straight at him, “...I’m not sure I want to go back to the way things were.”

    Harry met her gaze from the transporter platform, his dark eyes surprised, yet completely understanding. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Seven, raising an eyebrow, said nothing.

    “Voyager? We’re ready to link with your transporter beam.”

    B’Elanna deactivated the one-sided mute, “All right. Stand by.”

    The doors of the transporter room slid open, and Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay stepped inside.

    “Is everything going according to plan?” Janeway asked.

    “Yes, captain,” Lt. Torres answered. We’re just about ready to perform the first transport.”
 

    On the Kartayma, Cmdr. Torres glanced at Harry at the sound of Janeway’s voice. At his reassuring nod, she relaxed. No doubt her own Harry would explain everything in great detail in the hours to come.
 

    On Voyager, Lt. Torres spoke into the communications link, “Stand by to initiate transport in 10 seconds...5..4..3..2..1....”
With practiced ease, she slid her fingers along the transporter controls. Looking up, she watched as Harry Kim disappeared from the platform.
 

    Commander Torres looked up from her console to see Harry Kim materialize on the transporter platform of the Kartayma.

    When he had fully materialized, she immediately left the controls and rushed up to him, leaping into his waiting arms.

    “I thought I’d never see you again,” she breathed as he held her close, tears streaming down both of their faces.

    Ensign Kim swallowed, smiling in spite of himself, “Voyager, this is Ensign Kim; we have him.”

    “Good,” came the other B’Elanna’s voice, “Signal us when you’re in position.”

    “Understood.”

    He tentatively stepped out from behind the controls. The other Harry was caressing B’Elanna’s face, and he tenderly drew her to him, their lips finally coming together. Harry glanced downward, embarrassed. When they parted, they suddenly noticed that he was still standing there.

    “All right. We’ve still got work to do,” B’Elanna said, returning to the console.

    As Ensign Kim stepped toward the transporter platform, his counterpart stopped him with a hand on his arm.

    Harry was forced to meet the other’s eyes, a dark mirror of his own face staring back at him. His counterpart’s eyes were dark and intense.

    “Remember,” he hissed, quietly enough that the other side could not hear, never taking his gaze away from the ensign’s, “Don’t let what you have slip away. Don’t let that opportunity die.” He released him, backing away. His eyes remained fixed on Harry’s.

    Swallowing, Harry stepped onto the transporter platform. His mind was whirling again—whirling with possibilities, feelings left unrequited, opportunities long gone....

    “Stand by, Voyager,” B’Elanna said into the commlink. She looked up at Harry, smiling, “Good luck, Harry.” She and the Rebel Kim stood at the console, working at it. “Voyager, stand by to link transporters in 10 seconds...5..4..3..2..1....”

    Harry felt the tingling of the transporter effect. He watched the room disappear around him. Harry and B’Elanna also faded into nothingness. Harry knew that the transport would take several seconds longer than normal, so he tried to relax and let the usual blackness take him.

    But when he began to rematerialize, a flood of images came to him. He could see himself sitting on the bed with B’Elanna leaning toward him, her lips parting. He could see the same B’Elanna with the other Harry, with the tears of joy tracking down their faces. He could see the photograph, their happiness and contentment plain on their faces. He could see Tom Paris, with the long scar that ran along the right side of his face—a picture of fury.

    The last image that he saw was that of Kes’s face, her eyes burrowing into his soul, her mouth forming the words:

    “Fire and Ice, Harry...Fire and Ice....”

    He could see Voyager’s transporter room.

    Captain Janeway came toward him, smiling, “Welcome back, Mr. Kim. I hear you’ve had quite an adventure.”

    “Yes, captain,” he stammered. Quite an adventure.

    Now others were coming to greet him: Chakotay, his tan face smiling kindly; Seven, her eyebrow raised as if in imitation of a Vulcan. But Harry couldn’t concentrate on these faces. He was looking beyond them, to the lone figure who still stood behind the transporter console, her eyes fixed on his.

* * *

Epilogue:
 

    Such a wondrous place the universe was...so infinite, so pure....

    A lone being drifted among the stars, its mind open to all the marvels and sensations that the universe had to offer.

    But before it began its journey of exploration, it turned back to what it had left behind, curious. With a journey of exploration came many possibilities, but at that moment none interested the being more than those created by a single decision, in a reality connected with the one it had left behind.

    So many possibilities...and with each decision made, another universe was created.

    Amazing to contemplate, really....

    The being saw one such decision being made, and one universe split into two, then four....

    The splitting of the universe was infinite as well.

    The decision was made by a woman—and the outcomes of that decision varied....

    In many universes, the woman left one man for another, her true love finally found.

    In others, she remained apart from both, once again alone in her life—her mind not yet made up, her soul in torment....

    But there was one that was yet unique, and the being was again dumbfounded.

    It should not happen this way...why were there not many like this as well?

    In that one, unique universe, the woman did nothing.

    She stayed with the man she had been with earlier...but her mind was troubled.

    Troubled more than she knew, perhaps more than she would ever realize.

    The being watched a little longer, but soon decided to leave them.

    After all, the multiverse was a big place...and the being intended to explore it all.

    So it left the woman to her uncertainty, her unique path, her troubled thoughts....
 

The End...For Now
 

Please send questions, comments, etc. to Sarah (aka Commander Illani) at sarahb@mosquitonet.com