Title: Phoenix Rising: Fall 2/5
Author: Jessica
E-mail Address: Jessa5@aol.com
Size: 79K
Version: final
Category: A, U; K/T, 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 part one for disclaimers.

Phoenix Rising
by Jessica Fisher

Harry sipped hot chocolate as he read over the crew behavior reports from
Janice.  He had to admit that the girl was excellent at her job,
especially for someone so young.  In the Alpha Quadrant, a girl of 22,
Janice's age, would just be starting out on her first mission, as he had 
done. 
They certainly wouldn't be second in command of a starship.

Janice was a good commander.  It was as if she had been born with the sole
purpose of having this job on this ship.  Harry hadn't been aiming for command
at all when he had started out on Voyager.  He was perfectly happy as Chief of
Ops, though he admittedly wasn't too happy with being only an Ensign for so
many years.  Command had practically been thrust on him, what with the deaths
of the rest of the senior staff.  Captain Janeway had been killed when he was
28, the same year Michael was born.  Seven of Nine and Tuvok had been killed
four years later on an away mission together, and Neelix passed away the year
after that.  B'Elanna . . . B'Elanna had died when he was 26.  It had been 23
years, but it felt like days still.  Harry had taken command at the age of 
38. 
The memory was clear and vivid in his aging mind; they had been under attack
by a belligerant species known as the Lorka after refusing to trade technology
. . . 

"Tom, can you bring us around them?" Chakotay had asked, yelling over the roar
of ruptured conduits and phaser fire from the Lorka ship as he crossed the
Bridge to stand behind the pilot.

"I'm trying, Captain, but we only have thrusters and I need more," Tom
responded, tapping frantically at his panel.

"Bridge to engineering, we need more power!" Chakotay shouted.

"I'm giving you everything we've got," was the frazzled response from Carey. 
The Captain turned his head to the other side of the Bridge, about to call out
for Harry to reroute any extra power, when the conn exploded behind him,
tossing both Chakotay himself and Tom to the floor with a sickening crunch. 
At first glance, it was obvious that they were both dead.

"I'm transferring controls from the conn to tactical," Harry called out from
his station.  "Aoki, can you handle the thrusters?"  The crewman he had
gestured to replied the affirmative.  Harry tapped his commbadge. "Bridge to
engineering."

"Carey here."

"Can you aim a broad polarized trioxal beam at their Bridge?" he asked, his
mind cycling through all possible alternatives in milliseconds.

"A polarized trioxal beam?"

"It'll disable their shields.  Can you do it?"

"Yes, I think so."  There was a slight pause.  "Okay, we're ready."

"Initialize on my mark.  Three, two, one, mark!"  The beam shot out from
Voyager's bow and spread across the enemy ship's shields.

"Their shields are down, targeting phasers," came a triumphant shout from Aoki
at tactical.

"Better make that photon torpedoes," Harry suggested.  "Phasers won't be
enough.  Fire at will."  Two bright torpedoes arrowed out from Voyager and
went straight at the Lorka ship, which exploded in a flaming ball of debris. 
A cheer rose up on the Bridge, and Harry smiled.  "Stand down red alert."

"Enginering to Bridge," came Carey's voice again.

"Kim here."

"What happened up there?  Is the Captain . . . "

"Chakotay and Tom Paris are both dead."

"I guess that makes you the Captain," was the response after a short pause. 
Harry almost jumped in surprise.  He hadn't even thought of that.
"I . . . suppose it does.  Unless someone else wants to take command."  There
were heads shaken around the Bridge.

"You'll make a great captain.  Congratulations."  It was a grim way to receive
command of a ship, but it was necessary.  Harry hadn't ever wanted to command
a ship -- that was why he dedicated his time to engineering.  But he was
determined not to let these people down; he had to protect them -- for his
sake as much as theirs.

So Harry had assumed command, and Voyager had never seen a better Captain.  As
he thought about it, Harry realized that it was almost humorous to look over
the past decades he'd spent on Voyager.  It was just one person dying after
another, people replacing other people . . . at the fault of poor Captaining. 
Years ago this train of thought would have seemed tragic to him, but after 
losing
so many friends . . . death almost seemed unimportant.  Thinking of most of 
the people
who had died hardly even caused a ripples in his calm demeanor.
Countless many had died under Janeway's six years of command, and many more
had died in Chakotay's ten years.  Harry could only recall two deaths in the
eleven years he'd been in command.  One of those was from old age, and the
other from a malfunction that had resulted in the explosion of the tactical
console on the Bridge.

If only Janeway had realized that they couldn't run a ship with Starfleet
standards in a quadrant that had never heard of the Federation, and Chakotay
hadn't been so intent on following her even after her death, maybe half the
original crew would still be alive.  Maybe B'Elanna would still be alive. 
That was all that really mattered, wasn't it?  That B'Elanna was dead.  Part
of him had died with her that day, part of his life had ended.  Everything had
changed.  Sweet, innocent Harry Kim was gone, replaced by a cold, hard man. 
Through the years he'd gained experience, and the scars that came with it. 
He'd had his share of away missions gone awry, but he always had found a way
to get back to the ship alive, if not in complete health.

Sometimes he wished that he'd died on one of those away missions, so that he
could finally have peace.  Yet he knew that he had a responsibility to all the
people on the ship and their children, to the hope of having a future.  
Thinking back on his
inherent ability to get out of tough situations with a minimum of damage, he
couldn't help wishing that he had been with B'Elanna on the away mission where
she had been killed, instead of watching her leave accompanied by Tom Paris.
Tom had done nothing -- he had sat by and
watched them kill her, trying to save himself, not worrying about her.  Harry
had never been able to forgive him for that; Tom was supposed to be in love
with her!  He was supposed to care more about her than he did about himself! 
What kind of "love" was so incomplete?

***

Michael cycled through the crew files on his access panel.  It had taken him a
while to get past the files on the current crew and into the files of the
original crew -- Harry had locked most of the files up when he had taken
command.  He first came across the file on his own father, Tom Paris.  It had
been many years since his father's death, but Michael still felt a deep
sadness in his heart at the thought of him.  As he read the file, he
discovered things he had never known about his father.  He had been a
criminal?  He had falsified reports?  Yet he had turned his life around. 
Interesting.  He supposed he could make a big deal out of the new knowledge,
but his father was dead; what he had or had not done didn't make the slightest
bit of difference anymore.

He came across the file for the original Captain: Kathryn Janeway.  He had
never known Captain Janeway -- his birth was only days after her death.  She
looked like a nice enough woman.  Chakotay, he knew.  Nothing surprised him in
those files.  Eventually, he cycled to Harry Kim's file.  The picture that
came with the file shocked him -- it had been taken when Harry had first come
on Voyager.  Michael assumed Harry must have been his own age at the time --
the now graying hair was raven black in the picture, the fine white scars on
his face and hands nonexistant, the skin taut and smooth, glaringly 
beautiful. 
He was grinning in the picture, a rare sight.  This was not the same man that
Michael had known all his life, not the same Harry Kim who commanded Voyager
now.  Something must have happened over the years to change him.

The next picture in the database flooded him with memory.  It was the woman in
the picture he had seen so many years ago.  B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer. 
She was gorgeous.  Date of birth, date of death . . . nothing that told him
who she *was,* though.  He'd need to break into the personal logs for that.

***

<Chief Engineer's personal log>

Today was a typically boring day.  We had a systems diagnostic in engineering 
. .
. I didn't really have to do much, because Harry came in and helped a lot.  I
honestly don't know what I'd do without him . . .  Anyway, Tom and I went out
to the holodeck for dinner.  He took me to some French restaurant.  It was
rather dull, but I suppose if it makes him happy, it's good enough for me. 
You know, we don't seem to have much to do anymore.  We'll eat, then we'll sit
back, and we'll talk for about five minutes.  Then there won't be anything
more to say, and either one of us will leave, or he'll kiss me and we'll go on
from there.  I don't know why we even bother.

I shouldn't be saying things like that.  I do care about Tom, I love him . . .
I think I do, anyway.  We just . . . don't have the kind of relationship where
we talk a lot.  I don't really need the talking, though, I can do that with
Harry.  He always listens to me, always has something to say.  Like I said
before, I don't know what I'd do without him.  I worry about him sometimes
though.  He just seems so lonely . . . I wish he'd just give up on Seven of
Nine and find some girl who'd make him happy.  He's too good for her, really
he is.

<laugh>

I don't know why I'm bothering to put all this in my log.  Harry can take care
of himself.  Can't he?  Besides, I'm no counselor.  I take care of the
engines, I take care of myself.  Harry takes care of the computer, he can take
care of himself.  Tom . . . well, sometimes I think he doesn't want to take
care of himself.  I'm not about to come running at his bidding . . . Just
because I'm dating him doesn't mean he owns me.  I don't think he understands
that.  I talked to Harry about it; he understood.  He always understands. 
Sometimes I think I'm involved with the wrong guy -- but then, Harry and I are
completely different, and besides, he's . . . what?  I guess I always just
think of him as a close friend.

And he *is* a close friend -- the best.

<end log>

***