Title: Phoenix Rising: Ashes
Author: Jessica
E-mail Address: Jessa5@aol.com
Size: 22K
Category: A, U; K/T, slight P/T and K/f
Rating: PG
Teaser: On a Voyager that is run by the children of the original crew, where
protocol is disregarded and a 22-year-old can be a commander, Harry Kim
has settled into life as a Captain.  And though it seems to his impressionable
crew that his life is complete, there is a deep sadness that lurks inside . . 

See Fall part one for disclaimers

PART TWO: Ashes

Harry woke up in his quarters, disoriented.  He was on Voyager -- Voyager was
safe?  No, no, this was the past.  But why did his bed feel so odd?  Sitting
up, Harry looked sbout his quarters.  There was something . . . these were not
his quarters.  Not the captain's quarters.  What had happened?

He made his way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. 
Something was off, he couldn't quite-

"My god," Harry muttered as he saw himself in the mirror.  The lines on his
face were gone, the grey streaks in his hair were gone, the scars on his chest
were gone.  This was not a few days in the past -- this was decades in the
past!  That meant . . . that meant that B'Elanna might still be alive.  That .
. . 

His train of thought was interrupted by the doorchime.  Who- Oh, that would be
Tom, wouldn't it?  "Just a minute,"  he called, dressing quickly.  Only one
rank pip on his collar . . . huh.  Ensign Kim once again.  He opened his door
to find Tom impatiently standing outside and tapping his foot.

"What took you so long?  Better eat fast, or we'll be late."

"Sorry, Tom," he replied, forcing a smile.  Seeing Tom alive and well was
certainly a shock.  He realized that he was the focus of the taller man's
gaze.  "What?"

"Um, your hair . . . " Tom mumbled.  Harry quirked one eyebrow -- his hair? 
What was wrong with it?  It had looked just fine in the mirror, so-  Oh!  He'd
used to gel his hair, hadn't he?  Harry chuckled.

"I decided that I like it this way," he responded with a shrug as they entered
the turbolift.  Jenny and Megan Delaney were already in the lift, and they
smiled as Tom and Harry walked in.

"I like your hair like that, Harry," oozed Jenny.  He smiled politely in 
return.  It
was odd to have Jenny making such comments to him, after so many years with
Megan . . . 

The turbolift reached the deck, and they entered the mess hall.  Harry's eyes
quickly scanned the room, and his mind froze as he saw her.  She was smiling,
waving them to her table, bright and happy and-

"Harry!  Earth to Harry!"

"Huh?"  Tom was waving a hand in front of his face, and B'Elanna was looking
at him strangely.  He realized that while he'd been distracted by her, he'd
managed to get a tray of food and sit down at the table.  "I'm sorry, I was
thinking . . . "

"About what?  It's not Seven again, is it?"  That was from B'Elanna -- he
recalled that she'd always teased him about Seven.  He shook his head and
forced a smile, satisfying them, though he was still half numb from the shock
of seeing her alive and well.  The next thought that pushed into his head was
anger as he saw the way Tom and she were gazingly lovingly at each other. 
Instinctively, he suppressed the feeling, reminding himself that this was a
point in time when she was involved with Tom.  In fact, this was very likely
not long before her death occurred . . .

"I'd better get up to the Bridge," Harry muttered, excusing himself and hoping
that B'Elanna was in engineering for this shift so that he'd be able to 
think. 
Tom and B'Elanna gave him odd glances as he left, and he could have sworn he
heard someone saying, "What's with *him* today?" as he left.

***

As soon as Harry reached his console, he'd checked the stardate. 
Unsurprisingly, he discovered that it was indeed the very day of B'Elanna's
death.  He could stop it -- save her, protect her -- and then . . . And then
what?  Did it even matter?  What mattered was that she lived, wasn't it?  The
aliens had sent him back to this time for a reason, what other reason was
there to be here other than to save B'Elanna?  Maybe by saving her, Voyager
would be saved . . . 

There was no question in Harry's mind that he was there for her, to protect
her.  The only question was how?  Could he stop her from going on the away
mission?  Could he take Tom's place with her and sacrifice himself for her?  

Halfway through his shift, a senior staff meeting was called.  Harry entered
the room and headed for his usual chair, but had to alter his course as he
realized that Captain Janeway was sitting there.  Although he had respected
her greatly while under her command, and assumed that she might have made a
decent Alpha Quadrant captain, through the years Harry had begun to resent
Janeway.  So many problems would have been avoided if Voyager had been under
better command . . . they would have been home years ago.  Maybe there had
been another solution to the dilemma with the Array when they had first come
to the Delta Quadrant -- maybe they didn't need to destroy it.  They might
have gone home immediately.  However, through Janeway's incompetency, the crew
had grown close together.  If not for their years in space, Harry would never
have come to know B'Elanna.  Or Michael.  Or Janice.  Or Naomi.  He never
would have been Captain of Voyager; if he had lived his life in the Alpha
Quadrant, he most likely never would have commanded anything at all.  He would
have settled on a space station somewhere with Libby (Libby?  Harry couldn't
believe he could even remember her name).

Harry's life had been created by Captain Janeway's mistakes, and he wouldn't
give it up for anything.  He felt rather guilty for his thoughts that she
should have died earlier.  Though she had tried to show affection for everyone
on the ship, he felt that she hadn't liked him from the start.  He'd been an
Ensign for more years than he cared to count -- as soon as Chakotay had taken
over, he'd been promoted.  What was it about him that Janeway hadn't thought
worthy of acknowledgement?  Thinking back, he almost laughed.  Maybe she'd
been afraid that he'd rise in rank and take over the ship.  Hm.

The staff meeting went smoothly; Harry was thrown a few surprised glances as
he threw out opinions and suggestions to be discussed.  It was almost
offensive that these people considered him to be so innocent -- just because
he was young meant that he didn't know anything about starships?  Ridiculous.

When B'Elanna mentioned mining dilithium on a nearby M-class planet, Harry
stared at her in surprise.  He had been avoiding her gaze through the whole
meeting, trying not to think of her, but mining dilithium -- that was the away
mission she and Tom had gone on where she was killed.

"The planet appears to be uninhabited.  I need to modify the equipment to mine
from the rock, but you'd only need to send one person with me as long as they
know what they're doing."  Captain Janeway nodded.

"Alright, B'Elanna, we need that dilthium.  Who are you taking with you?"

"I'll go," Harry spoke up.  He noticed B'Elanna glancing apologetically at Tom
as Janeway agreed that Harry had the necessary skills.  So *that* was why it
had been those two in particular who had gone.  To have some time alone
together.  Harry refrained from narrowing his eyes and instead put on the
typical optimistic kid face that he knew everyone expected.

***

"So, how are you and Tom?" Harry asked as he and B'Elanna climbed up the side
of the rocky hill to find a suitable mining site.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she retorted defensively.

"It doesn't mean anything.  It was just a question."

"Well, it's none of your business."

"Maybe it's not.  But maybe I just like to know what's going on in my friends'
lives.  Is that such a crime?"  He looked at her warily out of the corner of
his eye, carefully gauging her reaction.

"I . . . What's with you today, Harry?  You've been acting weird since
breakfast."

"Weird?"  He almost laughed.  Oh, this body's just being occupied by the mind
of a Harry Kim from 23 years in the future.  Nothing weird at all.

"Yeah.  You hardly said two words this morning.  And then, at the senior staff
meeting, you sounded like you were ready to take command of the ship."  Old
habits are hard to break, he reflected.

"You're avoiding the subject."

"What subject?"

"You and Tom."

"What about us?"

"Dammit, B'Elanna, stop playing games with me!"  Harry glared at her, his eyes
flashing.  She took an involuntary step backward, surprised by his sudden
outburst.  He sighed and relaxed slightly, taking out the equipment to begin
mining.  Letting his pain and jealousy be twisted into anger was certainly not
going to solve anything; besides, he'd need a clear mind if he wanted to get
her through this mission alive.  "I'm sorry."

"No, no . . . it's okay.  You're right, I'm beating around the bush."  She
paused to take a breath.  "He asked me to marry him last night."  He'd seen
that coming, having read the logs.  Harry tried to keep himself composed as he
responded, though a rush of anger mixed with sadness and regret washed over
his body.

"And?"

"That's it?  That's all you have to say?"

"Did you accept?"

"Of course I did!"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I . . . was hoping you'd be a little more . . . excited?"  Harry couldn't
stop the laugh that bubbled out of his lips.

"Excited.  You still don't get it, do you?  Marriage isn't going to save your
relationship.  You're just going to be miserable.  So is he.  Don't you want
better for him, for yourself?"

"What . . . what are you talking about??  I won't be miserable.  What's gotten
into you?  I . . . I love Tom, and I he loves me, and we're getting married."

"B'Elanna.  Before you rush into anything, think it over.  You know it's not
right."

"What -- are you jealous or something?"

"No.  No, I'm not.  Not jealous.  You're my friend -- I want the best for 
you, 
and I know this isn't right.  You have to trust me.  Just promise me you'll 
think 
about it.  Sleep on it before you make up your mind.  Maybe even not thinking 
about it might help; try reading some of your old logs.  Maybe you'll find 
something
interesting in them."

B'Elanna looked thoroughly confused.  "Harry, I d--"  Her phrase was cut off
by a phaser shot that hit the rock between the two of them.  Harry already had
his phaser out, almost as if he'd been expecting an attack.  More shots were
fired, and it became apparent that they were surrounded by tall men in black
uniforms.

"Kim to--"  As he tried to contact Voyager, one of the phaser shots caught his
chest, the impact throwing him back against the wall, where his head cracked
against the rock and he slid to the ground unconscious.

***

Harry awoke in a small cell with the worst headache he'd ever had in his life.
He started to sit up, but froze as a sharp pain shot through his chest.  
Mentally 
checking himself over, he recognized the pain as a broken rib.   Harry winced 
-- 
if he *did* find a way out, trying to run with a broken rib or two would 
certainly
slow him down.

*B'Elanna--*  He abruptly remembered the presence of the half-Klingon, and,
forcing himself onto his hands, he looked about the room for her, taking in 
every
detail.  There--  She was unconscious; judging by the darkening bruise on her
forehead, one of the aliens had hit her with something -- most likely a 
phaser.

After deciding that she wasn't hurt seriously, Harry turned his mind to escape
possibilities.  In a situation like this, he didn't want to allow himself to 
be
concerned with anything but getting out alive.  As a result, he managed to 
kick in
his defensive mechanisms and block out all the emotion that threatened to 
flood his
system.  The first thing to do, obviously, was try to contact Voyager.  He 
tapped his
comm-badge and whispered a "Kim to Voyager," but was met with only a light 
buzz
of static as a response.  *The facility must have some sort of sheilding . . 
. *

There was a guard posted at the end of the long hall, obviously too far away 
to be 
aware that Harry had woken.  Gazing about the room, he noticed that there was 
a 
small grating in the ceiling that apparently led to the surface.  This was 
definitely 
an underground prison; it was obvious from the way the walls were solid rock, 
and 
the lack of windows on the walls.  Harry glanced out into the hall.  Yes, 
vents were 
lining the ceiling as far as he could see.  Perfect . . . as long as there 
was no 
structure above, on the surface, the vents led directly out.  And if there 
had been a 
building there, they surely would have seen it or found it in scans.

He carefully judged the distance from the floor to the grate.  If he gave her 
a lift, B'Elanna
would be able to pull herself through.  However, Harry himself wouldn't be 
able to
fit, and with his injury . . . 

A stirring from the form on the other side of the cell caught his attention.  
He pulled
himself over to the waking Lieutenant's side.  "B'Elanna," he whispered.  
"B'Elanna,
are you awake?"

"Harry?  Is that you?"  Her voice was muffled as she fought her way to 
consciousness.

"Yeah -- I think I may have found a way out of here.  But we're gonna have to 
be really
quiet, okay?"

B'Elanna pushed herself up to a sitting position.  "Alright, Starfleet, 
what's the plan?"
Harry leaned back, quenching the feelings that the very sound of her voice 
woke within
him, and gestured towards the grate.

"There's a vent up there.  As far as I can tell, it leads directly outside.  
Why they'd be 
stupid enough to leave a vent like that in a cell, I have no clue, but the 
fact remains that
if I give you a hand, you ought to be able to fit through.  Once you're out, 
contact Voyager."

"What about you?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"I wouldn't fit -- besides, I think I may have a broken rib or two.  I'd slow 
you down.
Once you get to safety, maybe Voyager's sensors can find this place and you 
can beam
me up.  They've got to have some sort of defensive sheilding, because we 
didn't notice it
before and it's interfering with our communications."

"You want me to just leave you here?"  B'Elanna's whisper was harsh and 
accusing.

"Trust me, B'Elanna.  It's the only way."

Surprisingly, she laughed.  "When did you get so knowledgeable about escaping 
alien
prisons?"

His only response was a smirk.  "Let's go.  The guard's far enough away that 
unless
we make a racket, he shouldn't notice."  She nodded and got to her feet.

Grimacing at the pain in his chest, Harry joined her.  "Ready?  It looks like 
you should be
able to break the grate off."  Another nod.  Not willing to wait any longer, 
he grabbed
her around the waist and *lifted,* thanking the gods that she was light 
enough for him to lift
without *too* much pain from his ribs.

B'Elanna pushed at the grate, but it refused to budge.  Pulling back for a 
moment, she gathered
her energy for a hard hit with the palm of her hand.  As her hand connected, 
the grating
popped off and clattered to the floor loudly.  She winced as the guard could 
be heard running
down the hall.

"Hurry!  Get up there NOW!" came the voice from below her.  Grabbing on to 
the sides of
the hole, B'Elanna tugged herself up and over.

Once on the surface, she began to run.

***

A scream echoed through the corridors of the underground base.  A man 
chuckled as he
wiped blood off his knife.  "Have you had enough yet?" he asked, his voice 
sweet and 
teasing.

Harry glared at the man in the black uniform, breathing heavily and trying to 
see past
the blood that was pouring into his eye from somewhere near his temple.

The man hmmed and tapped the knife against his hand.  "Not very cooperative 
today,
are we?  Just remember, *you* trespassed into *our* territory.  We don't 
*like* visitors.
Now why don't you just tell me where your little friend went so we can find 
her and
this will all be over?  Who knows, we may even return you to your ship as a 
thanks for
giving us some information . . . "

Harry narrowed his eyes to thin gleaming slits, and refused to say a word.

"How very unfortunate.  You know, *I* have no problem with continuing this 
forever.
I've been trained by the best, and I know all sorts of interesting things I 
can do to
you without killing you.  It's possible to skin someone alive, you know . . . 
"  As if
to illustrate his point, the man traced the edge of the knife along Harry's 
shoulder.
"This is a nice place to start, isn't it?"  The knife wandered down his 
chest, a thin 
line of blood following its path.  "Or maybe down here . . . "  He abruptly 
flipped
the knife over and rammed the handle into Harry's stomach.

The muffled sound that escaped his lips appeared to please the interrogator.
"Do you like that?  Maybe you'd like me to do it again?"  Harry grimaced as 
the
hard metal was again shoved into him, managing to hit the bottom of his broken
rib.  The interrogator paced around the slab of rock that his victim was tied 
down to.
He hooked the knife under the bottom of Harry's pants.  "You're very pretty . 
. . 
I wonder if anyone has ever thought to take you for a ride . . . "

Harry closed his eyes.  Maybe if he didn't look, he could block everything 
out.  The
threatening pressure of the knife left his pants.  "Hmm . . . I think I'll 
save that for
later.  For now, though . . . "

There was a resounding crack as the hilt of the knife slammed into his 
kneecap 
with surprising force, shattering the bone.  Harry couldn't hold back his 
scream,
and cursed himself for his weakness.  If he could just hold out a bit longer 
. . . 
B'Elanna should be safe by now, and she'd be working to get him back.

When he opened his eyes, Harry saw the man pulling out a collection of long,
pin-like objects.  "Now, let's see what I can do with these . . . "  Grabbing 
at Harry's hand, he positioned the needle at some invisible point on his 
fingertip
and slowly pushed it into his skin.  A tingle of pain grew stronger and 
stronger until
fire was racing along his nerves.  His body grew taut and his hips rose off 
the
table with the intense effort of trying to block the needle out.

Through the haze of the pain, Harry could feel gentle fingers stroking down
his stomach and over his groin.  "My, my . . . I can think of all *sorts* of
interesting things to do here . . . " the interrogator purred.  The last 
thing 
Harry saw was the knife descending before the all-too-welcome tingle of 
a transporter beam engulfed him.

***

"Ensign Kim?  Ensign Kim, can you hear me?"

Light.  Light and colors and sounds.

"Ensign Kim?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the light, then blinked blearily and
decided that if he opened them right away, the pain would be sharper but
pass more quickly.  The Doctor's face swam into focus above him.

"Doctor?" he queried, throat dry.  All Harry wanted was to go back to sleep,
in a nice soft bed with a warm body curled up next to him . . . Maybe Megan
would be free later in the evening . . . 

Wait a minute.  *Ensign* Kim?

Memories of the past day flooded back through him.  Voyager blowing up,
and then waking up decades in the past.  B'Elanna, and--  B'Elanna!

He tried to sit up, but was firmly pressed back by holographic hands.  "Not
yet, Ensign, you're still too week."

"Is B'Elanna alright?" Harry asked urgently.

"She's fine.  She contacted us right after escaping, and in fact she managed
to find a way through the aliens' shields so that we could beam you up.  And
it's a good thing she did, too, or else there wouldn't be much *to* beam up."

Relief washed over him.  So she *had* managed to get out safely.  Suddenly,
all his worries over messing with the time stream seemed ridiculous, overshone
by the fact that B'Elanna was *alive,* that they had gotten through it, that 
he 
wouldn't spend the next twenty-some years retreating into a shell of his own
creation.

"Thanks, Doc," Harry mumbled, before passing out.

***