was a female Kastini. She'd been attacked by some kind of wild
animal. There were deep claw marks and teeth marks. Tom didn't want
to look too closely. He'd seen enough to know she was beyond help.
Four large, clawed tracks led away from the body. She'd obviously
done some damage to the animal. Two different colors of blood and fur
littered the ground. The female had protected her child and died
doing it. Tom felt a lump in his throat. Maybe these Kastini weren't
so different from Humans after all.
He turned to attend to the child, approaching it cautiously. Tom
didn't want to deal with a screaming kid. It would be just his luck
if the Kastini showed up and thought he was trying to hurt it. After
all, there was that line in the planetary protocols about staying away
from the inhabitants.
The baby girl smiled at him. Well, it was a girl if the Kastini
decorated their girls' manes with ribbons. She was cute in a
kittenish way.
Until he got better information, Tom decided, this was a girl. He'd
always had better luck with girls anyway. Her fur covering was
charcoal gray. She had huge, almond-shaped eyes of blue, exactly the
same color as his own eyes. Now there's a coincidence, he thought. A
good omen?
The toddler staggered unsteadily to her feet. Tom got down on one
knee and crouched to get to her eye level. He'd never been around
babies much and wasn't sure what to do next. She solved his problem
by putting up her pudgy little arms and running straight at him. He
reflexively caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck,
snuggling into his chest as if they were old friends.
Tom cradled her against his body as he climbed to his feet. "You're a
good judge of character, little lady. How did you know that hugs are
the way to get on my good side?" She rested her head on his shoulder.
Tom spared a glance toward the body of the female Kastini. "I promise
I'll take good care of her until I get her to your people. Come on,
sweetheart," he told the child, "let's get you home."
He considered his options. There was no way he was going to swing
over the ravine with this precious package in his arms. He'd barely
made it on his own. So, he couldn't go back the way he'd come. Now
what? The Kastini female and child must have gotten here somehow.
There must be a bridge somewhere or another route to the city.
Tom pulled out his tricorder and tried it again, not an easy task with
one hand. Strange. Now it was working. It showed a large
concentration of Kastini life forms to the east of his position. He
holstered his tricorder then checked to be sure the little girl was
resting comfortably. Comfortably? She'd fallen asleep.
Paris started walking, hoping the others hadn't gotten too much of a
head start. He'd have to hustle to catch up. Harry would give him a
hard time about goofing off instead of helping with the mission.
Chakotay and Tuvok would probably think he was trying to avoid all the
boring diplomacy stuff that always went on with first contact
situations. B'Elanna would--heck, she'd probably think he was off
flirting with some female, and she'd be right. This little doll was
cute!
# # #
The away team reached the city without further incident and without
finding any sign of Tom Paris. They went directly to the council
building and were escorted into a spacious room with a conference
table. Ygaral was seated at the head of the table. His browbeaten
assistant scurried to seat the visitors, managing to get in the way
more than he helped.
Torres scowled around the room until she heard Chakotay clear his
throat. Flicking a glance in his direction and reading his
disapproval of her behavior in his expression, B'Elanna settled into
her chair and tried to appear calm. She wanted to get on with it and
ask if the Kastini knew anything about what had happened to Paris.
"You had a safe journey?" Ygaral said politely.
"For the most part," Chakotay replied. "There is a problem, however.
lost in the forest."
Ygaral smiled somewhat condescendingly. "Oh, he is not *lost*,
Commander."
The away team exchanged glances. "He's not?" Chakotay said. "Could
you explain, Councilor Ygaral?"
"It is the way of the Kastini. Your Lieutenant Paris was selected for
the testing." Ygaral waved a hand at his assistant. The little man
scurried forward with a tray which held a large pitcher and a number
of glasses and slid it onto the table.
"What is the nature of this testing?" Lt. Tuvok inquired.
"It is a test of physical endurance," Ygaral replied casually. "A
test of character, if you will. Will you have some refreshments? I
assure you, the jukeberry punch is very refreshing."
B'Elanna bounced to her feet. "You're testing Tom? Who gave you
permission? You have no right--"
Chakotay, seated next to her, grabbed her arm. "Sit down, Torres.
Councilor, you can understand our concern. We were not prepared--"
"You should have been," Ygaral said coldly. "Did you not read the
protocol files we sent you? By coming to our planet, Lieutenant," he
directed his comment to Torres with a sneer, "you gave us the right to
test you."
"We were under the impression that any testing would be done here and
that the whole team would be present. Nothing was said about a
physical test," Chakotay stated, forcing himself not to react with
anger to Ygaral's insults.
"We are not responsible for your impressions. If you had questions,
you should have asked them before coming here," the Councilor said.
His lack of emotion rivaled Tuvok's Vulcan impassivity.
"You said it's a test of physical endurance?" Harry Kim asked,
unwittingly giving Chakotay a chance to count to ten before responding
to the arrogant Kastini in a manner which would have been deemed
inappropriate for purposes of diplomacy.
"Yes."
"How do you test for that?" Kim insisted. He knew Tom was strong and
in good physical condition, but Paris hadn't expected to face an
endurance test. What kind of test would the Kastini come up with?
Did they mean torture? To see how long Tom would--Harry forced
himself to leave that train of thought as he regarded the Councilor
anxiously.
"Details, details. Each test is different. It's often determined by
the subject. Does it matter?" Ygaral waved a bored hand.
"It matters to us," B'Elanna said vehemently. She subsided at a look
from Chakotay but continued to glare her disapproval at Ygaral. She'd
never make a diplomat.
"You mentioned a test of character?" Tuvok reminded the Councilor.
"Yes. Must we talk about this? You will be advised of the results
by--what time is it, Nguri?" he drawled. His assistant scrambled
forward eagerly and proffered a chronometer for inspection. "Ah, yes.
It is now 1200. The test results should be in by 1600," the Councilor
said as he stood. "Wait her
e, if you like. Or return to your ship.
It really doesn't matter. We have our test subject." He waved a
careless hand in their direction as he exited through the double
doors.
The Councilor's assistant stayed behind. He poured the icy jukeberry
punch into the glasses and distributed them. "Would you like
something to eat?" he asked obsequiously.
"No, thank you," Chakotay said courteously. "Could you tell us
something about this testing?"
Nguri quaked. "Oh, no, sir. The Councilor forbids discussion of the
testing."
"Can you at least tell us if our friend will be hurt?" Harry Kim
asked.
"Oh, no." The little man shook his head, backing out the doorway and
wringing his hands. Before Harry could sigh with relief, Nguri added,
"If he survives the testing, he won't be hurt very much at all." He
scurried away before one of the strangers could ask another difficult
question.
"If he survives?" Kim repeated. His dismayed glance met Chakotay's
frown.
"I think I need to advise the Captain of the latest developments," the
First Officer stated. He smacked his commbadge with more force than
was strictly necessary. "Chakotay to *Voyager*."
"Janeway here. Yes, Commander? Have you located Mr. Paris?"
"No, Captain. We've just been informed that he was selected for
testing. The Councilor said it's a test of physical endurance and a
test of character," Chakotay reported. "The testing is supposed to
conclude by 1600 and the Councilor has graciously given us permission
to wait here in the Council Chamber until that time."
The Captain's concern for her missing pilot came through clearly.
"Did they give you any details about this testing?"
"They said IF he SURVIVED the testing he wouldn't be hurt very much,"
Harry Kim blurted. He got to his feet and walked to the window,
striving for control.
"What does that mean?" Torres demanded. "It's a pass/fail test? If
you pass, you aren't hurt? If you fail, you don't survive? Why won't
they tell us about the test? Why did they pick Tom?"
Tuvok raised an eyebrow at her vehemence. "We cannot understand their
reasoning if they do not choose to share their rationale. Our only
logical course of action is to wait and trust that Mr. Paris will pass
their test. Though often unorthodox and illogical in his approach to
problem-solving, he has proven to be highly resourceful in adverse
situations."
Chakotay was impressed. The Vulcan didn't hand out compliments often.
On this occasion, the First Officer agreed with him.
"Commander, I don't like this, but Tuvok may be right. We can't
locate Tom without sensors. We will, however, be working on a way to
punch through the interference that's affecting them. Keep me
advised. Janeway out."
Chakotay looked at his team. They were reacting to the crisis in a
manner typical for each of them. Lt. Tuvok was sitting at the table,
stolidly waiting for orders and fiddling with his tricorder in an
attempt to make it do his bidding. Ensign Kim was brooding, silently
staring out the window but not really seeing the view. B'Elanna was
pacing restlessly back and forth.
"Tuvok, why don't you analyze the jukeberry juice and see if it's safe
for us? We've got four hours to wait. We might as well get
comfortable," Chakotay said.
B'Elanna stopped marching back and forth long enough to glare at him
in disbelief. "You want to just sit here?!"
Chakotay blinked at her deliberately. "What would you suggest?"
Having no idea what to say, Torres contented herself with glowering at
him and returned to her pacing with renewed fury.
Harry Kim was thinking about Akritiria. Tom had survived alone in
that hellhole for two days before Kim arrived. When Harry was thrown
down the chute, Tom protected him from the other prisoners and even
with the clamp in his head making him crazy, he'd taken care of Harry
and helped him stay sane, until Tom was injured himself. Harry had to
believe that if Tom could survive in that prison he could handle the
Kastini's test.
B'Elanna Torres was worried about Paris' attitude. She feared he
would overestimate his strength and take the test lightly. Why, in
Kahless' name wasn't she chosen? The Kastini would have likely
underestimated Klingon strength and determination. That had worked in
her favor before. Of course, many people underestimated Tom Paris.
They mistook his laid-back style for laziness and his humorous, joking
charm for lack of intelligence or understanding. She'd made that
mistake herself at first.
When they'd worked on the warp ten project, she'd found out how
intelligent and intent and serious he could be when doing something he
cared about. His nonchalant pose was just that. When the Vidiians
had held them prisoner, he'd helped her. He was one of the most
caring--B'Elanna growled aloud. "If he's hurt, someone's going to pay
for it!" she snarled, shaking her fist right in Harry Kim's startled
face.
Her comment snapped him back to awareness of his surroundings. "I'll
hold them while you hit them," he offered sincerely. She gave him a
feral grin and nodded. They began to pace together, shoulder to
shoulder.
Chakotay studied them momentarily before turning to regard Tuvok.
"Your opinion?"
"I have no data from which to extrapolate an outcome," Tuvok stated.
"Many cultures use tests which determine physical endurance, ranging
in severity from running races to negotiating mazes."
"Or torture," Chakotay said for Tuvok's ears alone. That thought
might not have occurred to Kim or Torres.
Tuvok nodded. "True. Many cultures use what we would term torture to
determine the character of its subject. Do you wish more detailed
information?"
"No!" Chakotay said emphatically. "I know more than I want to. Some
of the tribes of my ancestors used rituals that involved great pain
and suffering. I hope the Kastini don't have similar customs. Do you
have any opinion about Paris' physical stamina? His endurance?"
The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. "I have observed Mr. Paris in a
number of trying situations. I believe he is a very determined
individual. He often displays a frivolous attitude and enjoys
meddling in the affairs of others. However," the Vulcan said
somberly, "he has shown a capacity to learn from his mistakes and use
the knowledge gained to avoid a repetition of those mistakes. This
shows maturity and good character. I do not know what criteria the
Kastini will use to judge his performance, but I venture my opinion,
based on little factual data, that he will be successful."
A twinkle of amusement lit Chakotay's dark eyes. "In other words, you
think he'll be okay?"
"I believe that is what I said," Tuvok said, absolutely serious.
Chakotay didn't understand why Tuvok's opinion, based on little
factual data or not, made him feel better. His own opinion of Paris
had changed greatly since the Maquis had joined
the *Voyager* crew.
Tom Paris might be a smart-mouthed, arrogant showoff at times, but
he'd also risked his life for the ship, for the crew, for Torres, even
for Chakotay. Though their personal styles were not always
compatible, Paris had really won Chakotay's respect when he'd brought
*Voyager* back to the crew stranded on a planet by the Kazon.
No, Chakotay thought, Tuvok's right. Tom is resourceful. He doesn't
always go by the book, so he's not limited to the book's responses.
Paris will find a way to deal with the test. Whatever the test is.
Damn! Why didn't they test me? Chakotay slammed his fist down on the
table.
B'Elanna and Harry whirled, startled.
Tuvok raised an eyebrow at him.
Chakotay shrugged.
# # #
The baby whimpered. "What's the matter, sweetie?" Tom said. "You
need a rest? I know I do." He guessed he'd been walking for about
three hours. The path was uphill all the way and the child weighed at
least twelve kilos. Her weight combined with the weight of his
backpack was starting to tire him out and the heat was also taking its
toll.
"Let's take a break, okay?" Tom found a shady spot close to the path,
set the child down, then slung his backpack off and dropped it next to
her. He dug out the medkit and his canteen before unzipping his
jacket, taking it off, and sticking it in the top of his pack.
"You want some water?" He knelt next to her, uncapped the canteen,