Title: Phoenix Rising: Fall 4/5
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

Michael shook his head, confused.  He'd been reading B'Elanna's logs randomly,
and had come to the conclusion that no matter how much he read, he still
wouldn't get it.  Her first log indicated that she was a tempermental young
woman who's feeling for Harry were much the same as Janice's, and who didn't
particularly like Michael's father.  However, the later logs had her involved
with Tom.  And the even later logs, the ones right before her death, showed
that the relationship was failing.  The thing that had shocked Michael the
most was the revelation in B'Elanna's last log that Tom had proposed to her --
an effort to save the relationship through marriage.  Hundreds of years, and
people still hadn't learned that marriage is definitely *not* the way to
rescue a relationship.  Worse -- she had accepted his offer.  And yet she'd
died the very next day on an away mission with her fiance.  Still, only a year
later, he was married (quite happily) to Jenny Delaney.  The year after that,
Michael himself had been born.

There had to be *somebody* who knew what was going on . . . someone from the
original crew who was close to Harry; well, as close as he'd let anyone get,
anyway.  Now, who would--  A lightbulb switched on in Michael's head: he'd go
talk to Aunt Megan.

***

Harry had read all the logs.  When she had died, he had first been too
distressed to do anything, but soon he realized that he could find the answers
to all his questions about B'Elanna's feelings by reading her logs.  He knew
now that if he hadn't been so damn timid when they had first been stuck out in
the Delta Quadrant, he could have been with her, could have made her happy,
could have been happy himself.  Possibly could have saved her life.

But what was the use in thinking about the past?  It was gone, done, over with
-- the present was far more important, and the future required a fair amount
of attention as well.  Yet, without studying the mistakes of the past, how
could he get a grip on the future?  Harry doubted that he'd be in a situation
like that again, doubted that he'd ever fall in love again, doubted that he'd
ever feel more for a woman than a passing physical attraction.  This
manifested itself in the form of Megan Delaney; she was attractive, yes, she
was willing to love him, yes, but he didn't want that.  Didn't want to let
himself love her.  Didn't want to open himself up, let her see his feelings,
make himself vulnerable.  That's what he'd become if her let her in, let
himself love -- vulnerable.  Vulcans had the right idea in suppressing their
emotions, he thought with a grim smile.

Sighing, he turned his attention to his work as he had done so often in the
past.  Kezval . . . a possible trading partner?  It was an M-class planet,
populated, technologically their equivalent.  Stations in orbit docked supply
freighters . . . Voyager would be in communication range in 24 hours; then
he'd have the dull job of once more arranging trades, of acting diplomatic,
pretending he was glad to be there, pretending he loved dealing with them. 
Captain Janeway *truly* had enjoyed making trade agreements -- he supposed
that that had been her weak spot.  She was much to optimistic, and always
believed the aliens at their first words.  Harry had learned to weigh each
word, to examine the tone of voice in which it was spoken, to watch the eyes
for signs of treachery.  Through his efforts, he had avoided many battles,
avoided the loss of many lives.  There had been a few unfortunate times early
in his captaincy where he had made mistakes, and as a result had needed to
fight his way out of captivity, resulting in the scars on his back, chest,
face, and hands that he had refused to let the Doctor heal.  He kept them as a
reminder of his mistakes, so that he would not repeat them; and it seemed to
be working rather well.

Kezval would most likely be a common trading outpost, no danger involved.  A
quick in-and-out sort of thing.  Like Megan.

***

"Come in, sit down," Megan said, smiling, as she motioned Michael to the seat
across from her.  She always enjoyed visits from her nephew -- he was a very
nice boy, and reminded her of the way Harry had been when first coming to the
ship.  "Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks, I'm fine.  I wanted to ask you a few questions," he replied,
settling himself in the chair.

"About what?"  She smiled maternally and tossed a curly lock of grey-brown 
hair over
her shoulder.

"About what it was like on Voyager, back before I was born."

"Way back then?" she laughed.  "What in the world made you think about that?"

"I don't know," he sighed.  "I guess I just never really thought about it
before.  I was remembering a picture I found in our closet one time, of a
woman I didn't know; I went looking through the old crew files and found out
who she was.  So I asked the Captain about her, because her logs mentioned him
quite a bit, but he wouldn't tell me anything about her, and he got angry . .
. I know you're . . . close . . . to him, so I thought maybe you could shed
some light on the situation."

"I can maybe tell you about the past, Michael, but I can't tell you about the
Captain.  Anything you want to know about him you'll just have to ask him
yourself."  That had been one of the conditions of the relationship, hadn't
it?  She wasn't allowed to talk about it, or about what she learned while in
Harry's quarters.  But if Michael wanted to know about the past, she could
tell him, couldn't she?  It couldn't do any harm.  "What did you want to
know?"

"I wanted to know about B'Elanna Torres.  Who she was, what sort of person she
was, who she was friends with, how she died . . . " he trailed off, watching
Megan's unsurprised reaction.

"I knew someday someone would ask about her.  He couldn't hide everything
behind codes and passwords," she mumbled, half to herself.  "Especially not
with people like you around.

"B'Elanna was an engineering genius.  Everyone respected her ability, though
her engineering staff was rather timid around her -- she had a horrible
temper."  Megan smiled briefly at the memory.

"When Voyager first came to the Delta Quadrant, she and Harry were abducted
from their ships -- B'Elanna was Maquis -- and held by a people called the
Ocampa, who were immune to the disease given to them by the Caretaker.  You
know about the Caretaker, don't you?"  Michael nodded.  Every child had heard
the story of how Voyager came to the Delta Quadrant at some point.  "Right. 
Well, Harry and B'Elanna met in an Ocampan hospital, and tried to escape -- we
met them halfway.  They were always good friends after that.  Harry and your
father were friends already -- they had met while we were docked on DS9. 
Through Harry, I suppose, Tom and B'Elanna became friends."

"Then what?"

"Then, Lieutenant Torres and your father became . . . more than friends.  And
then she died."

"How did she die?"  Michael was intruiged -- he could only begin to imagine
how it must have been for Harry to have his two closest friends involved with
each other . . . That would be like having Janice and Naomi involved, he
thought absently.  Interesting.

"Well, nobody really knew the details, except for Tom, of course.  The two of
them went on an away mission, and were captured, and then somewhere in there
she died.  Does that answer your questions?"

"Mostly, but . . . what was she like?  As a person?"

"B'Elanna was very strong-willed, very powerful.  She was always in control of
everything, always *needed* to be in control.  When she first came on the
ship, she was wild, tempermental, aggressive, antisocial -- Harry's complete
opposite.  Nobody could ever figure out how they got to be such good friends. 
But she changed -- started to become more . . . placid.  Tom liked that, I
think.  I don't know.  I can't remember everything so well anymore," she
sighed.  "I'm getting old."

"Oh, Aunt Megan, stop that.  You know it's not true," Michael encouraged good-
naturedly, drawing a smile from her.

"So," Megan began after a short pause, "how are things with Janice?"

"How are what things?" he responded defensively.

"You mean you still haven't told her how you felt about her?  Honestly,
Michael, sometimes you're just as bad as Harry."  *As Harry?*  He needed some
time to think about all this.

"I'd better be going.  Thanks for your help," Michael commented cordially as
he took his leave of her.

He walked down the hall and turned the corner, then fell to the floor.  There
was a good reason he had fallen -- he had run into Janice, literally.  "Watch
where you're going, hotshot!" she called harshly.  Then, realizing who it was
that was tangled up on the floor with her, "Oh, sorry, Michael.  Didn't know
it was you."

"Umm," he responded, trying to disengage himself from her and get off the
floor.  "My fault.  I wasn't looking where I was going."  Finally, he gathered
himself together and stood, offering her a hand to help her up.  She took his
hand, but only because she knew he would be hurt if she didn't.  "So, where
were you going?"

"To the holodeck.  I wanted to try out this calisthenics program I found in
the database.  Fighting is always more fun with a real partner -- you want to
come?"

"Sure," Michael responded, smiling.  "I could use a workout."

"Getting flabby, Lieutenant?" she teased as they began walking to the
holodeck.  "I bet I could take you in under five minutes."

"Oh, really?" he laughed.  "Well, we'll just have to see about that.  What do
you want to bet?"

"I win, and you have to be my slave for a week."

"Aren't I already your slave?"

"Oh, hush."

"Fine then.  If I win, you have to make me dinner Friday night."

"I don't cook, hotshot."

"Then you'll just have to beat me, won't you?"  Janice couldn't help but grin
at him -- sometimes he was just infuriatingly cute.


***

"Kim to senior staff.  Report to the Bridge -- I'm going down to Kezval for
trade negotiations."

Michael paused, listening to the message, and felt Janice still as well
beneath him.  When the Captain was done, he felt her wriggle around.

"Get off me, you big oaf.  You heard the Captain."  Michael rolled to the
side, wiping sweat off his brow and getting to his feet.  "Computer, what's
the time on that count?"

"Four minutes, fifty seconds."

"I win," Michael smiled as they left the holodeck.

"What? You do not!"

"Oh, please, Janice, I had you pinned!  There's no way you could have come
back in ten seconds."

"Anything's possible.  Rematch tomorrow."

"Fine then.  You're just putting off destiny.  If I could take you today, I
can take you tomorrow."

"Think whatever you'd like, but when you're waiting on me day and night next
week, you'll know you shouldn't have bet with me in the first place."

"I'm smelling home cooking, *Commander.*"

***

Having given his instructions to the crew, Harry beamed down to the palace of
Kezval, where he was greeted by an armed escort.  They led him through a
beautifully tiled hall to a smaller meeting room, where the ruler of the
planet sat at a table.

"Greetings, Captain Kim," he smiled, metioning Harry to a chair with one
scaled arm.  The Kezvali were decidedly reptilian, more so than the
Cardassians.  "I hope you had a pleasant journey here; you and your ship will
make an excellent addition to my little collection . . . "  He made a swift
guesture, and suddenly all the guards had their weapons pointed at him.  Harry
shook his head -- he'd misjudged them.  Well, Janice could take care of the
ship, and it wouldn't take long to get out of here, would it?  He'd done it
many times before . . . In fact, he could just contact Voyager and have them-

"Bridge to Kim -- we're under attack, Captain!" came Janice's strained voice
through the commbadge.  The guards looked surprised; he took advantage of
their confusion to barrel through those closest to him and start running.

"Janice, can you beam me up?" Harry asked breathlessly as he raced through
the hall with the guards close at his heels and firing at him.  Lucky for
Harry, the guards had bad aim -- they hadn't yet hit him.

"Transporters are nonfunctional -- they've hit our primary weapons systems, we
only have phasers and they're not at full strength.  Shields are down to 15%! 
They're using some sort of weapon that we've never seen before -- I can't-" 
Her voice was cut off suddenly by a loud burt of static.

"Janice!  Kim to Voyager!"  He'd gotten out of the building and was headed for
the forest: maybe he could lose them in the trees.

"We --- lost --- can't -- communication," came the garbled voice through the
communicator.  It looked like Harry'd have to get out of this himself, and
pray that Voyager would be safe.

***