February 2001

                Fire In The Sky 
                                by Janet Katz kajakat@hotmail.com
                                and Patti Keiper pattik1@hotmail.com
               
                An Emergency/Star Trek Voyager Crossover
 
                                

John Gage was in seventh heaven. He figured he had everything just 
about perfect in their campsite within the heart of the Sierra National 
Monument Park.  He and Roy were roughing it on the gang's collectively 
rented camping spot, Peg 51.

The rows of pines framing the mountains were a picture postcard vision. 
The lake a crystalline jewel, and the air, like crisp cold wine.

Now, even the wind was perfect, blowing his cooking fire's smoke away 
from their two tents, and already five huge speckled trout sizzled on the pan.

Gage chuckled.

It was a running joke between all of them on A shift how their shared vacation 
spot had even been located. John laughed, remembering the kindly sheriff 
he and Roy had met on a wild weekend of off duty rescues a few years ago.

Then, the sheriff promised the two L.A. paramedics a good fishing spot in return 
for their duty to Santa Rosa County, after they all spent the better part of those 
two vacation days saving a badly burned boat accident victim and then a rock 
climbing teen.

He took them to his place, Peg 51. And Roy and John fell in love with the Spot. 
Eventually, they dragged the rest of the gang and their families to camp there 
over subsequent summers until all of them were caught up inside the Spot's 
special magic, too. The Park officials got very used to writing down, 'Tag 51. 
Reserved, for Station 51' in their reservation logs.

But one weekend was always reserved for Roy and John exclusively.
The anniversary of Roy and John's fateful Santa Rosa fishing weekend, the day 
they had met the kindly Sheriff and shared bowls of cabin cafe chili with him in the 
Park's lodge.
They had created a new mutual tradition of fishing, hang gliding, hiking and relaxing 
for the occasion.

Gage took in a deep breath of the heady scent of the Ponderosa pines and sighed. 
He remembered back about twenty hours ago, as he flipped succulent fillets 
around on their sticks.

-------------------


Only that very morning, Roy wasn't keen to go up to the Spot even when John 
reminded him of their camping reservation. "Don't tell me you forgot about this 
weekend, Roy."

"No. I didn't forget. I just changed my mind that's all. It's October. The nights are 
going to be cold. We've had a really hellish week with fire calls and I'm too sore 
to hang glide decently. So,.. I..don't want to go this year...So , give the tag to Chet. 
It's his turn to get the site this week anyway. Besides, I'm...I'm busy this weekend." 
he lied.

"Come on, Roy.."  John said as they changed out of their uniforms for street 
clothes. "C shift's ended. And I know you aren't doing anything this weekend. 
Joanne and the kids are with Grandma in Utah." he guessed.

Roy looked at his partner in surprise, "How'd you find that out?"

John smiled, saying nothing, tapping his temple significantly.

DeSoto smiled, "Clairvoyant, huh? Oh, I see. More likely you drove by the 
house and saw the usual strewn bikes and basketballs out of the yard and the 
missing station wagon on your way to the coffee shop."

John's triumphant smile fell, "How'd you know that?" he said, buttoning up his plaid shirt.

It was Roy's turn to tap his forehead secretively. He waited a minute before 
letting Johnny off the hook, "I heard your jeep backfire as you kicked it into 
third gear while you drove by this morning.... Unmistakable sound, that. 
Woke the neighbor, too. Crazy old Mr. Fosche called me at five oh two, 
three seconds after I was jolted out of bed. He was thoroughly convinced 
that a flying saucer from Area 51 was crash landing down the block."

Johnny ignored the odd neighbor angle. "My jeep doesn't backfire.. I keep 
it perfectly tuned." Gage insisted.

"Tell that to the average Joe who hears you driving by and you might get a 
different story.." Roy grinned.  "Besides, you got that ticket from the officer 
pulling you over for disturbing the peace..."

It was John's turn to be surprised, "How'd you find out about that?"

"I looked outside my bedroom window and saw the red and blues go off 
behind your tail lights. Had a hell of a time convincing Mr. Fosche that you 
two weren't the UFO he thought he heard crash landing..."

Gage's face got redder and redder. "Yeah, well it was Reed and Malloy, and I 
got only a warning, see?" and he waved the pink warning ticket in his partner's face 
from his shirt pocket. "Nothing to worry about. We can still go up north. So 
why are you getting cold feet and suddenly changing your mind about going?"

"That's why. I didn't get any down time this week and yeah, I literally have 
cold feet. My shoes are still wet from yesterday's warehouse fire. Again, it's 
October, like I told ya.. I don't want to catch cold and...I want some solid 
sleep.." Roy said ticking off points on his fingers..

"I can drag up the hammock...it's totally comfortable.." Gage interjected..

"....in a warm bed..."

"I got an old Indian trick using heated stones from a fire to keep that 
hammock nice and toasty."

"....with solid food...."

"Since when have you known the Spot to skunk us trout wise? We'll eat like 
kings!!"

"... and nobody around to bug me." And he stared significantly at his talkative 
paramedic partner.

Johnny was quiet at that.. "I'll ...I'll give you the first day to..play the hermit. I 
can go off and do my shaman's thing early and you can sway in that hammock 
to your heart's content... Later, we can do our hang gliding thing, ok?"

"We?.. Do our hang gliding thing? I thought I was your official cliffside spotter. 
I haven't been in the air for ten years."

"Come on..  come fly."

"Nope."

It was Johnny's turn to narrow his eyes. "I guess that ol wedding band has 
made your left hand a little too heavy on the flight bar, eh?"

"Yep."

"Ok, All right. You don't have to fly. I can fly for the both of us. What about 
the rest of it? What do you say...?"

And Gage shot Roy his best, crooked smile.

-----------------------------------------------

And so it was, six hours later, they found themselves deep within the Spot.

Roy was still doing the "hammock'ville rock". And there was only five hours 
of daylight left to them. Barely enough time to do a little exploring overland, 
and hike back to camp.

So John shoved the frying pan off the fire, where sweet smelling trout and 
hickory popped and sizzled in their juices.. and sauntered over to where 
Roy snoozed under the pines within the canvas hammock.

"Sleeping beauty...." he teased.

And he waved the pan of mouth-watering trout under his buddy's nose.

But Roy only sawed wood from underneath his wool shirted arm.

::Nothing.:: he thought. ::Should have brought some smelling salts.::
Grinning, Gage decided to give him twenty minutes more of naptime. ::Just 
enough time for me to get these pinion nuts roasted to go with the cornbread.::

He retreated back to the fire, weaving around the brightly assembled hang 
glider of Johnny's in between their cold weather tents.

Johnny Gage sat down on the Spot's rock by the beach and sighed studying 
the perfect blue sky above him while he cooked.

Another twenty minutes went by and Johnny still didn't have the heart to wake his 
friend.  Not everyone had his endless amount of energy and Johnny couldn't 
fault him.  He knew how tired the whole crew was. Roy had Joanne, Chris 
and his daughter. ::Bound to tucker out a guy. Perfectly understandable.:: John
mused.

John took the cooked fish and wrapped them in aluminum foil and placed 
them in the cooler.  Hot fish, cold fish, it didn't matter; he and Roy were away 
for some well-earned time off.

Johnny took a deep breath filling his lungs with the crisp air. ::This is nice. But 
I need coffee.::  Johnny thought and went to the cooking gear and took out the 
coffee and the stovetop percolator.  It took several minutes for Johnny to get it 
going so he sat down near the fire and watched.

::I guess I won't be doing my contemplation today.  Maybe tomorrow I'll get a 
chance to do it.  And that spot on the glen is just perfect.::

The coffee was done so Johnny took his mug and reached for pot.  However, 
his aim was off and he knocked the hot kettle off the grate onto the ground.  
Unfortunately, he wasn't able to move his feet out of the way in time and the 
steaming beverage poured out onto his ankles and feet.

"SH*T!"  Johnny dropped his mug and instinctively reached for his legs.
"D*mn it.  OUCH!"  Johnny began to unlace his work boots.  After taking his 
socks off, Johnny saw the redness on his left ankle going down to his instep.  
His right foot wasn't burned.  When Johnny tried to right the kettle, he burned 
his right hand.  "Not again!!  What is wrong with me?!"

Roy heard the commotion coming from the campfire.  Rubbing his eyes and 
slowly awakening from his slumber Roy moved to get out of the hammock.  
Ungraceful as it was, Roy got up and went over to Johnny who continued 
to swear.

Roy looked down at his friend.  "What did you do now?"

Looking up with pure disgust on his face, Johnny pointed with his left hand 
and his left foot.  "This is what I did.  I burned my foot with hot coffee."  Roy 
bent down and looked at the wound.

Trying to hide a partially amused grin, Roy harrumphed. 
"Looks like first degree burns.  We should have some cream in the first aid 
kit and some aspirin."  Roy stretched his arms behind his back, trying to wake 
himself.

Roy slowly plodded over to their backpacks and took out the supplies.  
He dropped it next to Johnny.

"Any saline in there?"  Johnny asked.

"Nope."

"It hurts."

"I know it hurts and it's gonna hurt more.  You can put water on it and then 
the burn cream."  Roy took the salve out and handed it to Johnny.

"I KNOW THAT."  Johnny grabbed the lotion from Roy's hand.  "Sorry, Roy.  
It's just uncomfortable."

DeSoto sighed.
"Lemme get some cold water from the stream and make you a wetpack.  
The burned area isn't too big."

"Yeah, but it's on the heel too."

Roy stood up and stretched again.  He picked up his canteen and emptied 
the contents while he walked down to the stream.  The water was cold and 
the afternoon's chill was coming in.  After several minutes, Roy returned with 
the water.

"I can boil the water Johnny, let it cool and we can use it as a compress.  
Put the cream on and take two aspirin.  Say, maybe you want the hammock 
now."  Roy poured the water into a pan and placed it on the grate protecting 
the open campfire. "With this weather, Johnny, the water will cool in about 
an hour.  Lemme help you up.  Johnny stood up on one leg and with Roy's 
help, he hobbled over to the hammock and with Roy's help got in.  Roy put 
a clean cloth under Johnny's foot and noticed the red blotches on Johnny's 
right hand.

"What happened here?"

"I wanted the coffee and didn't realize the pot was still hot.  That's how
I burned myself. Roy, it's not my day.  Not at all.  How am I gonna do 
that hiking tomorrow?  I gotta get down to the valley."

"Why, Johnny?  Why is it so important for tomorrow?"

"Roy," Johnny shifted in the hammock as his foot was really hurting him, 
"it's something I do once a year.  It's my way of communicating with my 
people.  Let's just say it's an old Indian thing and leave it like that."

Roy shook his head in understanding, but he really didn't.  As plain as 
Johnny appeared to be, Roy realized that Johnny wasn't that simple but
was a very complex individual.  And he realized that his side of Johnny 
was only displayed to people he allowed to get close to him.

"Are ya comfortable, Junior?  Can I get you anything?"  Roy smiled.

Johnny relaxed a bit.  "Nah, I'll be okay.  Just not sure how long I'll be 
stuck off that foot.  We won't be able to go hang gliding tomorrow."  
Johnny saw a smile appear on Roy's face.  "I guess you're not too 
disappointed."

"Try to sleep Johnny and when you wake up, I'll apply the dressing to your 
foot."  Roy tapped Johnny's shoulder and walked away.

Again, shifting in the hammock, Johnny got comfortable and put his arm 
over his face.  Within several minutes, Johnny fell asleep, trying to keep 
the pain from his mind.

Now that Roy was awake, he was hungry.  Opening the cooler, Roy 
discovered the trout.  He took one out and debated waiting for Johnny.  
He did have trail mix that he could munch on, but there was something 
about the mountain air that made him hungry.  Roy decided to eat one 
trout and save the rest for when Johnny woke up.

Ten minutes after eating, Roy decided to take a walk around Peg 51.  
He knew his way around and had his favorite places, too.  About fifteen 
minutes away was a spot where Roy liked to sit.  Johnny liked the valleys 
but Roy liked the ledges that overlooked the magnificent vista.  From 
his vantage, Roy could see for miles at the crevices carved into the 
mountains.  The eagles and hawks soared above, using the thermals 
for lift.  And it was so quiet.  Absolute at times.  This was Roy's private 
place for contemplation and talking with his greater powers.  Although 
he gave Johnny a difficult time about taking this trip, he was glad he 
was here, with a wounded friend and all.  Peg 51 was his fountain of youth.

The sun started to set in the western sky so Roy decided to head back 
to the camp.  The water would be cool so he'd be able to apply cold
compresses to Johnny's foot and hand.  He knew that when Johnny 
woke up, the pain would return.  Too bad they only had aspirin with them.  
With Roy's help, he'd take Johnny down to the lake and they'd spend time 
fishing.  Maybe with the help of a walking stick and some thick socks, 
they'd do some light walking, but Roy knew, Johnny would have to stay 
off his foot for some time to allowing the swelling to go down and avoid 
infecting blisters that might be forthcoming.

Upon arriving at their campsite, Roy found Johnny still sleeping, which 
was a good sign.  Roy looked at their supplies and decided to cook 
some more food.  He poured the cold coffee out of the pot and removed 
the grounds, placing them in their trash bag.  No more coffee tonight, 
Roy thought.  They could both use the sleep.

It was around 7 PM and the sun was setting.  Roy decided to wake 
Johnny up so he could eat.  And it would give him the opportunity to 
check his burns and see if they really were just first degree.

"Johnny?"  Roy said softly, not wanting to startle him.

"It's okay, Roy, I heard ya walking over."

"How's the foot?"

"Hurts, burns, aches.  Need more aspirin."

"After or with dinner.  Don't take them on an empty stomach."

"Yes, Dad."

Roy smiled.  "Lemme take a look at it."  Johnny sat up in the hammock 
and Roy took out his flashlight.  The two men looked at Johnny's foot.  
The redness and swelling was there along with blisters.  Johnny's hand just 
was red.

"So second degree burns on the foot.  The water's cooled down, so I 
can wrap it.  We got some plastic wrap I can use around the cloth." 


"I feel so stupid, Roy." then his face twisted into a parody of humor.
"Maybe you're not the only one who's tired from overworking.."

"Now I know that's true. What else could explain yourself being so
clumsy like this?" he quipped. "I don't think scalding ankles with coffee is 
any part of a Native American ritual that I know about." Roy applied the cream 
and the cool liquid soaked cloths to Johnny's foot.  A smile appeared on 
Johnny's face as the cloth was soothing.  Next Roy wrapped the foot 
and heel to keep the cloth on to offer a bit of sterility.

"Oh, ha ha. What's for dinner, Dad?"

"Your trout and my potatoes.  No coffee tonight.  I think we can do without it."

Johnny smiled and shook his head in agreement. "We're gonna have
to. I decided to wear most of it."

After finishing their meal, Roy took the dirty dishes and pots down to the 
stream so he could clean them off.  Johnny was in charge of keeping 
the fire going.  Fifteen minutes later, Roy returned and placed the utensils 
back in their packs.

"Ready to turn in, Junior?"

"I guess so, after I put another cool wrap on.  This one's gotten warm."  So 
Johnny hobbled over to the cool sterile water and poured it on the cloth, 
after removing its plastic covering.  As soon as the liquid hit his skin, 
Johnny sighed from the comfort it brought.  He replaced the plastic over 
his foot.  Using a stick to support his balance, Johnny hobbled a bit to 
the clearing.  He wanted to look at the sky before turning in.  He needed 
to see the stars.

Finding a rock to sit on, Johnny looked up at the constellations.  
Occasionally, a shooting star would fall into the sky.  There was something 
about the heavens that brought a serenity to the multidimensional man.

One shooting star came in quite low and bright, and to Johnny's mind 
touched down not too far away from them.  But Johnny thought it was 
just his imagination, the dehydration, the aspirin, the mountain air and 
a whole host of excuses to explain what he saw.

Roy walked up to Johnny.  "Need my help?"  Roy's hand was extended.

"Yeah, sure."  Johnny stood up and the two men slowly walked back to 
their campsite.

A minute later, they were inside their tent and the fire dampened. "All this 
fussing's for the birds." Gage said, lowering himself onto his bedroll.  
He snatched a Gatorade to offset his thirst and drained the whole thing. 
He opened his mouth and let loose a liquidy burp that lasted a long time.

Roy didn't even chortle. He was too used to his partner's quirks. He 
sighed, already half asleep with his back to Johnny on his own bedroll. 
"Well, at least nothing's wrong with your digestive tract. Too bad we 
can't heal your foot as easily as you filled your stomach."

Johnny folded his hands over his cardigan sweater and tried to cross 
his ankles without thinking. A jolt through the wrap bit him. "Ow.." he 
frowned irritably at his burned foot. Then his face continued where his 
mind wanted to go and he smiled in pleasure. "Yeah... I am a good cook. 
I mean, those trout were..  they were perfect, Roy. I get dibs on the
big one still left in the cooler. I need it for tomorrow so I can honor my anc--"

SSSsnnnnnnnnoorrrrreeeee.

"Hey, Roy.." he whispered, still in his sleepy contentment.

"Hmmm?"

Johnny answered him, "I think the aspirin's kicking in."

"Ummhmmm...zzzzzz...."

Night came softly over them with crickets' song. They serenaded 
even the restless Johnny into slumber until dawn.

----------------------------------------------------------------
 
"Heyyyahh!!!!!!"  

 Splash!!!  

Johnny cannon balled into the autumn pool of Hemlock Creek with his hands 
wrapped tightly around his knees.

Roy, in an off-white cardigan and jeans, leaped backwards on the
rocks to avoid the plume of icy water that arrowed up into the sky.
Involuntarily, he shivered as he watched Johnny resurface and 
fountain some of the creek out of his mouth into the air. "I don't know how 
you can do that, Johnny. Makes my teeth ache just watching you."

Gage clambered out onto a flat rock next to Roy in a short wetsuit,
slicking his wet hair back on his head and rubbing his hands together 
for warmth. "Do what? Oh. You mean taking a cold swim like 
this? Heh. Used to it. We didn't have running hot water on the
reservation and a stream bath was the only way to go. Granted,
these speedos sure make it easier nowadays." he chuckled, snapping
the neoprene material over one shoulder from the suit. He
plopped down on his rear and dangled his left ankle into the rushing
water. "Ooo, that's better."

"That burn still bothering you?" Roy asked pointing.

"Not half as bad as it did last night. The blisters reabsorbed back in 
the second I dove in like I knew they would. Neat trick my grandmother 
showed me growing up. We didn't have trauma kits
and burn dressings back then and had to make due with what
we had around us."

"Whatever works." Roy smiled. He noted Johnny's teeth starting
to rattle. He rose and stretched, wandering back to the campfire.
He threw three logs onto it until it started roaring. "Let me guess.
A roaring bonfire's part of the cure, too."

Johnny shot him an amused, irritated look, "Now that is a follow-up
treatment I created after grandma's. She wasn't modern enough
to understand what hypothermia is.." he chuckled. "A few minutes
more and I think I'll be able to get a sock on over this today."  He 
shivered again, this time in relief as the heat from the fire steamed 
creek water off the wetsuit in fine rising columns. "Ooo, that feels 
good." He said of back and ankle.

Roy tossed Johnny his clothes and a warm sweater with a down vest 
on top of his pile. "Just be sure you put on all of those, too. If you're 
going to go on a shaman's hike, you're going to be the very picture 
of a modern camper. I'm sure your grandmother would agree with me."

"Says who?" Gage grumbled. But he took the pile of clothes, dragging 
them nearer anyway.

"And you're going to take another piece of modern technology with 
you, too. Our short range radio. They've a range of ten miles so I 
can keep tabs on you the whole time."

"Why? Don't think you can handle smoke signals?"

"Nope." Roy grinned, flipping cornbread on his grill off to a side in a 
stone oven Johnny had built earlier. "Breakfast's ready. And I have 
your king sized trout wrapped for your hike over there...." he said, 
pointing to a birch barked bundled package resting near Johnny's 
backpack. "I added a radio, rudimentary med kit, and rain gear to 
those knick knacks I found inside of it."

"Those aren't knick knacks, Roy! They're..sacred artifacts and 
talismans."

"An eagle feather?"

Johnny nodded vigorously.

"A sheep's skull?"

Again, came the eager nod. "Yes. And I have beargrease candles, too, 
inside that buckskin pouch."

"Oh, so that's what I've been smelling."

"Very funny. That's the white sage I picked from grandma's field for 
my hike today. I'm gonna offer it along with the trout to my ancestors."

Roy was thoughtful. "Is it true you know your whole family line 
completely by memory?"

"Yep. Down to the first Ancestor. Easy to remember them all. It's built 
into the First Chant Song. A name for every note. Anyone can sing, 
Roy. This is no different than a ..than a...rock tune. The song's just a 
long one, that's all." and he smiled. "without the electric guitars.. heh." 
he laughed.

Gage rose, departed into the tent to change, then came out taking 
the coffee and bread Roy handed him. He regarded his long time 
working partner thoughtfully. "In five years, that's the most you've 
ever been curious about my Ancestor Walk, Roy. I'm flattered."

"Yeah, well. I have to sort the truth from Chet's fiction when he plays 
those Indian jokes on you."

Johnny frowned, "Yeah, well Chester B wouldn't know a Native 
American if one jumped up and bit him on the nose, Roy.  Peace 
pipes and axes...huh.." he grunted sarcastically. "I'd love to drag 
him into the creek for one or two streambaths to educate him on a 
few things.. that's for sure."

"Don't hold your breath." Roy laughed. "It took us two years to 
convince him to come here even in July. And he still said the nights 
were too cold."

"Thin skinned Irishman."

"Hey.." Roy protested, "I'm Irish.." 

"Yeah? But you're more tolerant of "roughing it" in general, Roy. I 
taught you well."

Roy watched as John's teeth still chattered a bit as he bit down into 
the steaming cornloaf in his hands. He threw another log onto the fire. 
::Who taught who, junior.:: he thought privately. ::If our yearly weekend 
camping trips went the way you planned, we'd be sleeping on 
bearskins and fishing with our bare hands.::But he said out loud, 
"Living in the city has softened us both. But I'm gonna give you credit. 
Your Ancestor Walk's inspiring. My family traditions don't have anything 
even remotely similar to it. Just a few prayers said in church and a 
special dinner on the Irish Thanksgiving Day."

"It's a start." Gage laughed. He finished his cornbread, rising, after 
loosening his pants leg around his ankle burn. "I'm off. See you at 
three." and he shucked off his watch, tossing it to Roy.

Roy was surprised, "How are you going to tell the time, Johnny? To 
know when to head back here?"

Johnny grinned, tapping his temple. "Now that's a little Indian trick that 
I'm very good at." He raised his hands to his eyes and turned his face 
into the morning sunlight, closing his eyelids. "It's... eight twenty two 
and....seventeen seconds.."

Roy checked his own wristwatch and his mouth flopped open. "No 
way.. You looked at yours before you threw it over to me."

"Nope. I didn't. I forgot to wind it up when I got up earlier. Mine's 
saying it's five oh six am.."

Roy glanced down. It was true. Johnny's watch wasn't ticking yet. He 
started to whistle the twilight zone theme eerily.. 

"I'm good. I'm good, yes, I am..." John laughed at Roy's flopped 
open expression."What? Can't I be good at actually doing something?"

Roy added. "My lips are sealed."

 Johnny hefted up his hiking pack after poking around in it to see what 
equipment Roy added to it besides the handheld radio and medkit. 
"Sandals?" 

"Yep. That ankle's gonna get sore before you get two miles into the 
valley. You can always get back into socks when you hit level ground 
again."

Johnny grunted grudgingly approving. "Fair enough. I'll buzz ya 
when I get there...." he said, hefting the radio and speaking into it.

Roy's own tandem radio echoed Johnny's voice on the rock next to 
him. He grinned. "See ya this afternoon. I think I'm gonna sleep 
only half the morning and then read for the rest of the day." DeSoto 
said into it.

"You do that.." Gage grinned, holding up a hand and radio in farewell 
as he got farther away from the main campsite.

Johnny's back soon disappeared out of sight underneath the 
Ponderosa pines.

------------------------------------------------


Walking through the forest, Johnny found a piece of wood he could 
use as a walking stick.  He bent down to pick it up.  "This'll do fine."  

The path Johnny took to the clearing was steep in places, but he knew 
it by rote.  As soon as he approached the glen, Johnny's pulse 
quickened knowing what he was going to be doing.

Looking up into the sun, Johnny figured it was about 11:00am.  He'd 
have to have a snack before proceeding.  Johnny got his bearings 
and searched for his favorite spot in the valley.  It was a patch of 
trees on the rim of the clearing, and definitely out of place.  But 
that was the charm of it.

Johnny got to his spot and sat down.  He took a long deep swig 
of water from his canteen and wiped his sweaty brow with his arm.  
A deep breath of mountain air filled his lungs.  A sense of peace 
and self satisfaction came over him.  He was ready to begin his 
journey to talk with his people.

He took his sheep skull and eagle feather out of his leather pouch 
and placed them on the ground he cleared.  Johnny was reaching 
for the beargrease candle when he heard some rustling in the trees 
behind him.   It sounded too big to be a small animal.  Maybe it was 
a bear or a buck.  Johnny knew well enough that any animal would 
leave him be.

The candle was lit and his tokens were in the correct spot.  Johnny 
closed his eyes so he could clear his mind of thoughts.  He had 
to rid himself of intruding thoughts that would cloud his mission.  
Others used drugs to communicate with their forefathers.  Johnny 
never considered doing that and never had the need to.  This 
place was so quiet, he usually would only have to settle down just
a tad to do his 'thing'.

But today was different.  The rustling sound was getting louder and 
was distracting him. 

Johnny stood up, squinted and looked around where he thought the 
noise was coming from.  Expecting to see a bear, he was truly 
surprised when he saw two men coming out into the clearing.

Well, it was two men, but one was clearly in trouble.

Johnny bent down and blew out the candle and ran over to the
them.

"Hey, you guys need some help?"  Johnny asked.  He saw the taller 
dark haired man leaning on the blonde man for help.  The dark haired 
man was having a difficult time standing up.

The blonde man looked up and his expression changed from concern 
for his friend to relief that help was there.

"Am I glad to see you."  The blonde man stooped and allowed 
Johnny to take the bigger man from his grip. "I didn't think I'd ever 
get out of there. D@mn, he's going out on me again. Catch him."

The bigger man's weight fell onto Johnny and he gently placed him 
on the ground. "What happened here? He looks real beat up."  He 
watched consciousness flee from the man's eyes.

Johnny went to take the injured man's pulse and respiration.  
He noticed a bruise on the man's head and a splint on the man's arm.
The edge of a slight cut had sliced into what Johnny first thought was 
dirt over the bruising, ::Hey.That's a tattoo on his forehead. This man's 
a Native People.:: thought a small part of him as he bent to work.

The carotid he found was sluggish but regular despite the rapid and 
tense breathing. "Hey,.." he tested. "Can you hear me?" he said, 
making sure the man could breathe well enough by carefully tilting 
his head back. But he didn't respond to Gage and seemed mostly 
unconscious. A sternal rub failed to make him react. ::He's shocky, 
that's for sure..:: Johnny thought.

He squeezed a fingernail on the splinted arm, seeing swelling 
underneath the improvised splinting that showed a humerus break 
that had been secured in just the right way. The nail bed pinked up 
immediately. ::So, this friend here's had some first aid training. This 
is a perfect splint job.::  But it bothered Johnny that the younger man 
hadn't answered his first question yet. He looked up at him once again, 
chalking his slow reply to fatigue and worry for his friend.

"What happened?"  Johnny asked his question again.

 The tired young man looked like he was thinking very hard and he 
spoke, unconvincingly truthful. "My friend fell."

Gage didn't believe that answer for a second. ::Ok:: he thought
to himself. ::You're entitled to a little leeway. Just so long as
you two aren't escaping ex-cons or something. I can live with
not knowing how it happened.::

"What were you doing before?"  The blond man asked, pointing to 
Johnny's ministrations.

"I was taking your friend's pulse and respiration. Then I checked
to see how he's rating on the Glasgow consciousness scale. And 
seeing how well that splint was doing its job.  I'm a paramedic with 
Los Angeles County."

"A paramedic?"  The fair haired man asked.

Johnny wasn't surprised to hear that term questioned.  People still 
didn't know what a paramedic was even though the program was 
going on six years old.

"I'm a trained medic who works under the supervision of a doctor.  
My name's John Gage."  He extended his hand.

The blond looked at the hand and realized it was an old earth custom.  
He extended his and the two shook.  "My name is Tom Paris."

"We gotta get your friend to the hospital, although there isn't any nearby.  
The best we got here is the Ranger's station."  Johnny realized that he 
had the walkie talkie that Roy gave him.  "Lemme contact my partner 
so he can meet us near here. Then we can at least get back to our spot."

"Partner?"  Now Tom was confused.

Johnny smiled, "Yeah, Roy is my paramedic partner.  We're both 
stationed out in Carson, but are campin' up here for a few days."

"I'm not from this area," Tom said.

"Neither am I.  Carson is back down in L.A. County."

"Oh."  Tom didn't want to give anything away.  He knew they were on 
Earth in California, but after that, the computers on the Delta flyer were 
being very stubborn.  He had no idea what year let alone which century 
they were in.  However, his knowledge of Earth's history would 
certainly be put to the test here.

Johnny picked up the radio and talked into it.  

Tom was taken by the communicator Johnny was using.  ::A hand held 
short wave? wow..:: he thought. ::I've never seen one of those.:: He 
watched the man whose skin was almost as dark as Chakotay's. ::At 
least he and I won't have trouble blending in until I figure out how to 
get us out of this mess. I just wish the crash hadn't destroyed most
of the shuttle's medical equip--::

"Hey, Roy, it's John, come in."

Static.

"I hope he's not down by the stream.  It's a bit rugged there and 
reception may be poor."  Johnny smiled at Tom, trying to reassure 
him.  "Roy, it's John, over? I've encountered some hikers and 
I've got an injured man here."

Static.

::Either I'm in a dead zone or Roy's radio isn't on.:: John stood up 
to think.  Tom stood up next to him.  Johnny scratched his chin.  
"It's about a ten mile hike back up to our camp and the terrain is 
gonna be sheer hell.  Between the two of us, we can carry him.  
What's his name?"

"His name is Chakotay."

Johnny looked at Tom. "Hmm, that sounds Cheyenne or Lakohtan."
he wondered. Johnny then looked down at Chakotay and studied 
his features. "Or maybe even from a tribe from farther south."

Tom just let him speculate without telling him more.  ::Temporal Prime 
Directive, my @ss. How the hell am I going to keep it from being 
violated now? Chakotay needs immediate treatment.:: he worried 
to himself.

He looked up as the paramedic met his gaze. Paris's hand was still 
on Chakotay's stomach, monitoring his breathing rate. 

"Your friend is still really out of it but at least Roy and I can do 
something for him back at our camp.  Lemme get my stuff and 
we'll start hiking there."  

Johnny ran to gather his stuff, leaving Tom with Chakotay.

Tom bent down to his wounded first officer.  "Hang in there,  
Commander.  I have a feeling we'll be okay, for now."

Johnny ran back to the two and offered his canteen to Tom who 
took it.   After several long swallows, he capped the canteen 
and handed it back to Johnny.  "Thanks.  That tasted really 
good."  In Tom's mind it really tasted good. ::Real Earth water.::

Gage stowed the water back into his light pack and knelt by 
Chakotay's side. He didn't like the way he seemed even 
deeper into unconsciousness. ::I'll stop along the way and 
reassess him better in a warmer location. There must be 
more wrong with him than what I'm seeing right now.::

Johnny drew out his rain gear and covered the big man snugly 
into it, around head and torso to ward off chill.

Then he turned to Tom, who seemed oddly out of place 
somehow with his current situation. ::I know how he feels. 
I know how I would react if Roy ever got hurt in the middle 
of nowhere.:: he thought to himself.

Johnny asked, "How's his neck and back? Did he hurt 
himself in that way at all?"

Tom didn't even hesitate with his reply. "His C-Spine's fine. 
Didn't scan.. uh, --  find any involvement there."

Gage nodded appreciably. ::This guy knows his first aid for 
sure. I should ask him where he got his training from.:: "All 
right. I'll take him first."

Johnny bent down and picked up Chakotay and eased him over 
his shoulder into a fireman's carry.  "I can probably carry him 
like this for a bit to start, but once we get to the forest, I'll need 
your help to steady me."  Johnny started walking with Chakotay's 
full 230+ pounds on his back.  

Tom was amazed at what he saw. ::He's in shape for such a 
scrawny guy. Wonder who his trainer is.::  He picked up Johnny's 
leather sack and followed behind.


More than an hour after they first started walking, Johnny 
needed to rest.  He gently placed Chakotay down and took his 
pulse and respiration again. Although the wounded man was 
still unconscious, his vital signs were stronger. ::Hmm, must 
be the rain gear conserving his body heat. It's helping with his 
shock. But he's not out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.::

Tom knelt by Chakotay's head, seeing the blood started up 
again from the contusion on his forehead. He saw more of it 
had run down Johnny's clothes, staining his right leg down to 
the ankle, soaking it.  He took the dressing the paramedic 
handed him and starting using it on Chakotay's cut. "I'd give 
anything for a proto--  ah, stitch kit right now." he covered. 


"So you've medical training, too. Medic's level from what 
I've seen." Johnny smiled.

"Uh,  yeah, sort of. But that's not my primary job."

"What is it then?"

Tom pretended to fuss with Chakotay's splint job and didn't answer.

Johnny was getting annoyed at Tom's standoffishness.  
"Listen, do I have your word that I'm not aiding and abetting a 
pair of criminals here? You don't have to tell me a thing besides 
that. It's none of my business."

Tom's head shot up. "No. We're not criminals. I mean-- do 
we look like criminals to you?"

Johnny's eyes fell on the tattoo over Chakotay's eye. "To 
tell you the truth. Only Hell's Angels mark up their face like that."

It was Tom's turn to grin a bit. "I assure you. Neither Chakotay 
nor I own a pair of Harleys. And we're not fleeing the law. Quite 
the  opposite in fact. But I can't tell you more than this. It's a 
matter of security. You're gonna have to trust me on this one, 
Gage."  Tom suggested.  

Johnny looked hard at Tom and didn't feel threatened no 
matter how odd an emotion his own mind pretended to feel. 
He shrugged. "Ok. I will." Johnny took his boots off and his socks 
and saw how red his own foot was.  Some new blisters were forming 
on his heel but he didn't think anything dangerous was risked from 
the fluid Chakotay's cut had been dampening them. It could have 
been his own sweat that had done that.

Tom noticed Johnny's wound.  "What happened to your foot?  
It looks painful."

Johnny smirked.  "I kinda burned it making the coffee."

"Oh, you have no idea how long it's been since I've tasted
real coffee, John."

"Do I dare ask?" Gage questioned.

"Just as long as you think it's been." Tom grinned back. "That
still looks fresh for a burn."

"It'll be okay.  Unfortunately, these aren't the first burns I've ever 
had and they won't be the last." Gage snickered.

"Huh?"  Tom grunted as he became really confused.

"I'm a fireman, remember?"

"Oh yeah, you did say that."  Tom was searching his memory 
about firemen.  That profession didn't exist any longer past
being a group of cursory background skills taught to ship's crewmen 
because autotechnology took care of any fires that ever occurred 
on Voyager or other starships.

Together, the two caregivers set Chakotay down under the full 
sunlight of a solar heated rock to warm him. Johnny used the 
bright daylight to check the man's pupillary responses. "They're 
still even." he smiled at Tom. "Looks like we might not have to worry 
about any serious head injury complications for the future. 
Let me check him over again. I want to take a look at his belly. 
There's rigidity now that wasn't there when we started out of 
the valley."

"I'll help you." Tom said.

They re-examined Chakotay and found that he was guarding 
his upper left quadrant. The muscles there were tight even 
though he was still profoundly unconscious.

Johnny sighed uncomfortably. "He's bleeding into his 
abdomen. His spleen might even be effected. Feel that? It's
almost like it's getting soft on one side. Can't tell for sure. It's 
too early on for a deep but vague internal thing to really show up." 
He felt for both femoral pulses in Chakotay's upper legs. 
"They're even here, and that shows us that whatever it is, it's 
still a smallish injury. And his gum color's still fine. He's holding 
well so far with his vital signs. But I think that improvement's temporary."

Tom was completely out of his element at guessing an outcome.
He was so used to having instant transportation of any injured personnel
to the EMH's more than competent care within the first few seconds of
accident or attack. "Why do you think that?" he asked, scared.
 
"Whatever's wrong in his belly's gonna gain ground very soon. 
That continued guarding's proof of that."  Johnny reached for his radio.  
"Roy, it's John.  Can you hear me?"

Two seconds later, a response was heard.  ##Was beginning to 
wonder about you, Junior.  Everything okay?##

"I'm about half way back to camp.  Gonna need your help 
though.  I met two men at the glen and one of them is injured 
badly from a possible belly bleed. We're carrying him back.  
Can you meet us at the Bear Claw?"

##Sure.  I'll be there.## Johnny could hear Roy's expression 
change from relaxed to professional and he knew his 
partner would be there for him, and for them. ## Aren't you glad 
I packed a trauma and IV kit in the main tent. I'll be bringing them.##  

"You're such a packrat when it comes to camping trips, Roy. 
But I think your overage is actually gonna make a huge 
difference this time. See you on the west rim in fifteen or sooner. 
Gage out." And he set his radio down onto the pine needles. 
Johnny noticed Chakotay was starting to shiver.  He put 
his hand on his head.  "Seems like he's got a fever working.  
Was he sick with a bug before he fell at all?"

Tom remembered back.

The away mission he and Chakotay were on brought them to 
a prewarp class planet. But Voyager's urgent need for poly 
nucleic aminoacids for Neelix's food stores had won out. 
Captain Janeway sent them down in simple clothing to blend 
into the crowd.  They soon discovered there was nothing 
they could trade with the simple people on that planet, so 
dejectedly, they decided to head back.

While returning to Voyager, the two had encountered a lost 
Borg cube.

The two Voyager officers did their best to lead them 
away from Voyager's coordinates. Their broken wing act 
worked. But soon, the shuttle had been spotted and tow tagged. 
Paris swore. Drones were heartless. Tom wouldn't have held it 
past them to have put a toxic bioagent into the tractor that had held 
them pinned. It was only blind luck that caused the Delta 
Flier to break free long enough for Tom to duck into the 
meager moon ring cover they had stumbled upon. He vaguely 
remembered a sudden hull breach Chakotay had sealed around 
the green glow of the Borg tractor field just before he jolted 
the shuttle free into the field of dust and rocks. That energy 
had touched Chakotay's naked hand but hadn't  injured him. 
::Just made him mad.:: Paris recalled mentally. ::Too bad the doc 
isn't with us. And too bad I can't have my tricorder with me out in 
plain sight to check Chakotay for any Borg bugs openly. And I sure 
hope I hid the Delta Flyer well enough. These men seem like they're
right out of the Stone Age for communication and medical technology.::

Tom thought about it even more closely.  They had been so 
rushed as they were being chased by the Borg.  Their final escape 
proved to be serendipitous through an appearance of a small uncharted 
wormhole.  

They had taken their chances and went through it.  It was a rough ride 
and the Delta Flyer had sustained heavy damage.  Then they had lost control 
of their guidance systems and had entered a nearby planet's 
atmosphere.  It was only after they crashed, that Chakotay and Paris
realize with a shock that they were on Earth. Tom instantly knew that they  
weren't in the correct timeline.  He could tell that from his sensors.  
The pollution levels were way too high with hydrocarbons 
and there were no transmissions active at all on the channels that Star 
Fleet normally used.  And now, he knew about how far into the past they
had fallen from what he was learning from this paramedic man directly.

Tom's thoughts were jolted back into the present. "John, he didn't 
complain about feeling ill."

"Could be due to his fracture then. Where were you guys coming 
from?"  Johnny took the canteen and poured some on his 
handkerchief.  He moved it close to Chakotay's face and 
dripped some of the precious liquid onto his forehead to 
cool him a bit for comfort without undoing the warmth the rain 
gear had provided. Done with his task, Johnny looked up at 
Tom for a replying answer.

"Um, we were um," Tom paused trying to figure out what to say.  
He wished he had his earth history datapadd with him to confirm 
what he could say, but he saw Johnny's eyes staring at him and 
he knew he had to say something now, or Johnny would really 
become suspicious. "We were in a commune in the hills and 
things got a bit rough, so we decided to leave."  Tom said it 
with all sincerity that even he believed it.

"Oh, that explains it."  Johnny shook his head and stood up,
peeling out of his boots.

"Explains what? I just got started."  Tom was really curious.

"Those funny clothes you're wearing."  Johnny took the sandals 
out of his bag and tied his boots together to store them. 
He laughed, "You two look like a buddy of mine. Chet Kelly. 
He dresses nearly the same way. Wouldn't be surprised in the 
least if Kelly lived in a commune himself once." he said, slipping
his feet into the rugged sandals he tossed onto the ground.

The comments about the clothes made Tom self-conscious.  
He fingered his replicator woven tan sackcloth shirt and looked down.  
It didn't look too bad to him, but what did he know.

"Look, man. It's nothing personal. You don't have any other 
clothes with you?"  Johnny questioned.  "It's gonna get cold up 
here tonight."

"Had to leave all that behind." Paris evaded, trying to look irritated
at an imagined concocted crime.

Gage sighed. "I guess my stuff will fit you, Tom. You're about
my size. But we don't have anything for your friend Chakotay to wear.
We'll just have to wrap him up in our sleeping bags once we
get to camp til we get help."

"We won't be able to get help for him today?"  Tom asked.

Johnny frowned.  "Are you kidding?  I'm exhausted, you're 
exhausted.  It's still a good long hike yet to get to the Ranger station. 
And it's late now. The sun's going down. I'd say tomorrow we can 
head to that park base after we get Chakotay stabilized a little better
tonight. All of this moving around isn't helping him at all. He needs to
be kept still as soon as possible. As for moving him tomorrow,
we're going to have to do it in segments."  Having finished buckling 
on his sandals, Johnny stood up, bent down, and lifted Chakotay once 
more for the remaining carry distance to the summit of the valley.

The burdened men continued their climb.

Roy saw the three men as he walked fast up through the Bear Claw gorge 
pass. ##I see you.## he shouted into his radio to them.  Roy rushed down 
the slope and once more, they reassessed Chakotay's physical 
condition thoroughly.

Johnny gratefully snatched the first aid kit pack from Roy and set
it near him while his partner rechecked the man's vitals with gear.

It was heaven itself to have a BP cuff at last. Roy used it and 
frowned. "82 over 44. Shocky. Johnny,.." he said, feeling Chakotay's 
abdomen once more. "...where did you find guarding before?"

Gage looked up from the pen light he was shining into Chakotay's
eyes. "Upper left quadrant. Why?"

Roy sighed, "He's tight in all quadrants now. Going to need a mast 
suit. And before morning."

"We don't have one.." Johnny said.

Tom looked at the two men, "What's a mast suit?"

His innocent question cut through the paramedics' discussion and 
they jolted, realizing Paris didn't know how serious things were going 
to get. They told him. "Its a short term for medical anti shock trousers, 
made up of chambers which, when inflated around a patient, slows 
internal bleeding and redirects blood flow to criticals areas such as
the heart, lungs and head." Roy explained. DeSoto reluctantly told 
him more. "Your friend's going to sour on us due to something 
more wrong happening inside his abdomen that we won't be able
to treat further because we simply don't have all of our equipment."

::Sounds familiar.::Tom thought unhappily. "Well, what can you do 
for him now?"

Roy spoke up, "For starters, I have an I.V. kit here. We can give him 
fluids. And then when we get to our camp, we'll have some O2 to 
keep him going until we can get him to that Ranger Tower."

"Don't you have a ground vehicle handy?" Tom asked, frustrated. Then
he quickly covered. "Er, I mean an all terrain truck or pickup parked 
somewhere?" Tom asked.

"No, we were dropped by our crewmates off the freeway and we
hiked in." Roy replied.

"How far was that?"

"About nine miles, through pretty rugged territory. It would
be too much for him." Gage replied, tossing a head at their limp 
patient. "Here." he said, passing off an oral airway at Tom to use.

Paris only angled it a few times in his hand as he figured out what it
was and how to use it. "Yes, that'll help him breathe better." he 
agreed.

Tom winced when the two firemen actually put a primitive needle in
Chakotay's hand attached to "plastic" tubing and ran the start
of a very crude looking bag of water and minerals into his circulatory 
system. But he smiled when Chakotay's pulse and breathing rate 
rallied back up again to low normal.

Johnny dug around the I.V. kit bag. "There's only one epinephrine
syringe in here, Roy."

"Can't use it anyway without a doctor's approval. We're in enough
hot water as it is starting that I.V. on him without calling first."    

Tom said, "Don't worry about it. You're saving his life. I'll vouch for ya.."  
::Epinephrine, huh.:: he thought. ::I wonder if that stuff's anything like 
cordrazine.:: he thought worriedly. ::Oh, man, they think Chakotay's 
going to cardiovascularly crash?:: Tom didn't want to think about 
what could happen.

It was too frightening.

Soon Johnny helped transfer Chakotay's weight onto Roy's shoulders.  
The four men continued their journey back to the main campsite.  They 
completed the rest of the trip in silence with Tom following , holding up the 
flowing I.V. bag.

==================================

It was already October dusk by the time the small group made it back 
to Tag 51.

Roy and Tom hastened to get Chakotay inside a warm sleeping bag 
while Johnny got out a portable O2 canister from Roy's larger field pack 
in the main tent.  He set its mask over Chakotay's face and put 
it only at the lowest flow rate he needed. "This has got to last the night
until he recovers more circulation into his lungs." Gage said to Tom, about
Chakotay's shock. He retreated immediately for more firewood.

Roy watched Paris nod in agreement then watched him start to 
gather Chakotay up by the shoulders. "What are you doing?" he 
asked. "It's gonna be dry enough here by the tent." 

Tom stopped lifting and said. "He's cold. I'm moving him closer to 
the campfire."

"Not with this oxygen here you're not. This is highly flammable." 
Roy insisted.

"Oh." Paris said, "You're right. I...sort of forgot about that."

Johnny had returned with an armful of logs and understood at once, 
what had happened at a glance. "I can fix both of your problems. 
Hang on..." he said smiling.

He returned with a few hot rocks on a beach towel from the fire's 
edge. "Line the bag with these.. He'll be warm with these nestled 
against him and the O2 won't be risked so near the fire..."

Roy and Tom both said, "Thanks."

All three got to planting hot boulders into place inside the sleeping 
bag and around the injured man. Slowly, Chakotay stopped his involuntary 
shivering.

Paris said, once Chakotay was comfortably bundled and heated. 
"I do appreciate what you're doing for Chakotay and me. I... just 
feel a little out of my element here."

Johnny grinned. "So do we."

"Think nothing of it." DeSoto reassured him with a slight grin that
didn't hide his medical worrying.

Roy and Tom and Johnny were deep into discussing a rescue plan 
to get Chakotay along the fastest route back to civilization when a cough 
from the bedroll attracted their attention. All three men scrambled 
over to him in the darkness, shining a flashlight onto his face.

Johnny eased the oxygen mask off long enough to make sure things 
were fine with the commander's breathing after he pulled out
the short airway. He hadn't vomited.

He was shocked to see dark eyes blinking up at his own in confusion. 
"Easy there, Mr. Chakotay. I've got a friend of yours right here. You've 
had a fall but we're taking real good care of you so don't try to move 
around just yet. You've internal injuries." Gage shared softly, holding
him still with a gentle hand on his chest.

"T--Tom?" Chakotay's panting got out.

"Right here, Comman-  uh,  coming....." Paris said, leaning in on 
the first officer. "I found these two firemen who have emergency 
medical training as paramedics. We're in their campsite and 
we're working on a way to get you to some help right now."

"Can't-t. go into town, Tom.. Can't.." he said, tossing his head as 
he fought awake. "Not our place." 

"Of course we can. We'll be real polite and accomodating, okay?
We have to forget being a pair of hermits for a while. So what?" Paris 
said in a backstory, "Lie still."

Chakotay wasn't listening. He was still lost in the truth. 
".. can't break the Pr--" he gasped, muzzy. 

Paris pretended a cough, cutting him off.
"Shhh," Tom said, replacing the hissing mask over Chakotay's face. "We 
have to.  These two men and I agree that your condition is only 
going to worsen without intervention and I myself can't help you 
alone with our bandaids and rolling tape." he said significantly to him. 

His meaning got through to Chakotay at last and he nodded slowly. 
He lifted his hand to touch Tom's shoulder in understanding when 
he noticed the clear I.V. fluid line running into it.

His look of surprise made Roy say, "It's only normal saline. 
Keeping your blood pressure up. If you've noticed, your belly 
pain's the reason why we started one on you. We think you may 
be bleeding out inside into your abdomen.  Tomorrow morning 
at daybreak, two of us are going to hike for help from the nearest
ranger station. Either Johnny or I will stay here with you until 
rescue workers come to fly you out of here."

"Fly? Oh, ..fly.." said Chakotay, thinking carefully, orienting himself 
to time a possible period. Tom Paris pantomimed a crafty set of 
fingers framed into Roman numerals behind the paramedics' back at
Chakotay addressing his guess at a year.

"I'll stay, Roy." Johnny said, "I'm worn out from carrying him. What did 
they feed ya at that commune, Chakotay? I think you've crippled 
me for life, man." he joked, popping his stiff shoulders.

Tom stiffened up at his superior's unhappy reaction to that little lying
story previously dished out. Paris pretended to fuss with the Commander's 
O2 flow valve on the primitive gas tank. "Yeah, this is good. At a two."
he read avoiding the measurement term he couldn't guess at, with
mm/L symbols on the dial. "Better?" he asked.

Chakotay just grunted and swallowed around his dry mouth.

Desoto reached up and set the mask on Chakotay's chest so the 
flow still reached him as he offered Chakotay a mug of warmish tea 
and sugar. "Thirsty at all? Just sip it or you might get nauseated. 
No, don't move, let your friend help you with that straw there."   

Johnny looked at Roy.  "We have a straw?"

Roy shrugged his shoulders.  "I got kids."
 
"Thanks for the tea."
The Voyager first officer got in about two mouthfuls before the 
effort exhausted him. He closed his eyes. "Oh, I've had better 
days. This isn't one of them."

"So I've heard." Johnny said, studying Chakotay's face. 
"Say, is your head bothering you?" he asked, feeling around
Chakotay's forehead and neck for problems.

Chakotay looked at him. "Not at all. I just feel a little shaky and 
I have some discomfort in my shoulders. Funny, I don't 
remember getting hurt there." 

"Both of them? At the very top on both sides of your shoulders?"
Gage asked quickly.

Chakotay nodded.

Roy and Johnny exchanged glances. ::Spleen then.:: "It's pain that's 
being referred from farther down. So far, the I.V.'s keeping your BP 
elevated but we think the hemorrhaging you're having will get worse 
before it gets better. We've done all we can until we get in contact 
with a doctor." John said.

Tom slowly nodded an affirmation to Chakotay subtlely, telling him
the same story was true about the Delta Flyer's state of disrepair 
and disability.

"What kind of chances do I have for surviving until help arrives." 
Chakotay asked realistically.

Roy answered instantly. "We'll do everything we can for you to keep 
you going.  Exploratory surgery will be the telling factor determining
that in the long run." he said truthfully.

"I see." Chakotay said, then he met the paramedic's eyes evenly. 
"May I have a few words with Tom? Alone?"

"Of course." Johnny said.

John and Roy retreated to the edge of the ring of firelight, ten yards 
away to prepare a quick dinner for those who could eat 
and to pack up the things they would need for the journey in the 
morning.

Tom looked down the moment the two Earth men were out of 
earshot. "Commander. I did what I had to do. I couldn't treat you 
myself with just a tricorder. That beam smashed both med kits."

"Listen, Tom. I know you did what you thought was best. But the 
Prime Directive is clear. No contact when out of time. At all. I'm 
willing to be sacrificed to preserve the timeline." 

"Sir."

"Mr. Paris. That's an order.."

Tom's mouth worked a bit. "I'm sure the captain wouldn't agree with 
you. We didn't ask for those Borg to come and try to assimilate us.
 We were making a simple trading run, Chakotay. I'm sure that Voyager's 
somewhere out there, right now, trying to find us despite of the 
danger that Cube might represent. We have a chance to get back, 
sir. I left a trail for her the Borg will never think to follow."

"You did what?" Chakotay said angrily. "How could you put Voyager 
in danger like that. The second we were discovered by that Cube, 
our mission instantly became one to keep Voyager from being 
discovered, even at the expense of our own lives. You know 
Kathryn's got a stubborn streak a light year long. She's going to 
try to use that trail to find us and that activity'll bring the Borg right 
down on top of Voyager and afterwards, to this Earth here, of the 
past."

"Hear me out Chakotay. Yes, I had the Mustang in a back cargo hold 
on the Flyer. I just... leaked a can of old fashioned gasoline out 
into space through the trash dump as we were being tractored in. 
I even suspect that some of it even got sucked into that wormhole 
with us before it ran out. Now you tell me whether or not the Borg are 
smart enough to even track a technological substance that is so 
primitively organic. To the Borg, mere gasoline is irrelevant. And everyone 
knows Borg drones make rotten grease monkeys. They'll never know."

That shut Chakotay up. ::Do I dare hope?:: he thought to himself.

Tom pressed his advantage. "You don't deserve to be facing this 
choice of whether or not you live or die, Commander. So far, 
you're the only one willing to throw your life away just for the sake 
of following proper protocol. We can still pull this off. I can get 
you to a hospital, then swing back to the Flyer and get a tricorder 
and my notes to keep from making any further transgressions 
into their timeline. The second you're cured, I'll break you out of 
bed, we get back here, make repairs, and then we're home free."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed, "Are you sure that wormhole's not going
anywhere?"

"Positive. It's trailing Halley's comet like it always does every 
seventy years to Earth, making its tail grow. It's at 74,000 kph, 
and holding, coming this way. We could catch it on one impulse 
engine if we have to."

"Only one?" Chakotay asked.

Tom firmly placed the O2 mask over his commander's face again. 
"Only one."

Sighing, Chakotay nodded slowly, "Do it." and gave himself up 
to the sleep pulling him under.

An instinct made Johnny rise and walk back over to Tom and 
Chakotay. "Hey, he's out again.. Why didn't you call us back over?" 
he said irritably. He felt the big man's neck for a carotid.

"He's fine, John. Only sleeping. Best thing for him right now. Best 
thing for us, too. Roy, you and I should hit the hay. Or, one staying up 
and spelling in turns to keep watch on him?" he suggested.

Johnny nodded and handed Tom a freeze dried meal, so he'd 
have something to eat.  Tom looked at it strangely.  Johnny saw 
his apprehension.  "It's filled with carbs, protein.  It's what the 
astronauts take with them.  I bet you haven't eaten in awhile."

Tom nodded and took the bar from Johnny.  He tore it open, sniffed 
it and took a bite. ::My first meal back on Earth is what they gave 
astronauts.::   "Umm, tasty."

 
Johnny smiled.  "I know it's not the best, but it's nutritious and easy 
to carry."  Tom looked at him while he ate his meal.  "And Tom, 
call me Johnny.  John is too formal."

"Okay, Johnny." Paris grinned.

Johnny finished checking Chakotay and realized that Tom was 
right. The man WAS only sleeping. The oxygen had made him 
relax, too, a bit, for the muscles in his abdomen were not so 
knotted anymore. ::Maybe the hemorrhaging's easing off.:: he 
speculated. But then that idea got replaced with the voice of 
experience. ::Internal bleeds from the URQ always need surgery, 
Johnny Gage. For a spleen IS a blood resevoir. How can you 
stop a leak from a lake that big? It can only get bigger.. This is
 just a reprieve.:: his mind told him.

He frowned remembering his own splenectomy after his hit and 
run accident. He had almost died from his internal injury then. 
That didn't end up happening but Gage had lost his spleen and
a little of his stamina as a result of his brush with death.

Tom spoke up, "Anything you need me to do while you take the 
first vigil over him?"

"I'll be fine. Bring a fresh load of hot stones in an hour and I'm 
good." he finally answered the man.

"All right. Call me if anything changes. I'll be right over there by 
Roy. We're sleeping outside so we'll hear you." Tom said.

"Go. We've a busy day ahead of us tomorrow an' I know you're 
bushed." Gage chided, heading off Tom's protest, then he 
started taking a set of vitals on Chakotay.  ::Still the same. He's 
holding. But there's only so much you can do with hot stones 
and a little water.:: he realized.

John hunkered down next to the pile of steaming stones for 
warmth, with a grip on the pulse beating in Chakotay's wrist to 
monitor him.  

He started to lightly doze, but the doze was that of all firemen, 
always alert to his surroundings.

=========================

Roy watched Tom approach him and tossed him a tied up 
sleeping bag. "How is he?"

"Sleeping. His vitals are the same. It seems that I.V. thingamabob
actually works."

Roy looked oddly at Tom. "It's the cutting edge of paramedical
medicine. It should work. Although I'd feel better with a MAST 
suit handy."

"And I'd feel better with the EMH in hand."

"What's an EMH?" Desoto asked.

"Oh, I meant, EMS. Yeah, the Emergency Medical Services."

"Wouldn't we all?" Roy chuckled. "There's no point in living in 
California if we didn't have them available. That's why I joined the 
department. Try to get some rest. Dawn'll come before you know it."

"You, too." Tom said. He stretched out uneasily, dreading what 
could come and haunted by what had already arrived. 

Roy's voice next to him made him jump. "My partner's very 
good at what he does.  Your friend isn't going to die in the 
night.  Johnny won't let that happen."

"I hope you're right."

"I know I'm right. I taught Johnny everything he knows."

"Thanks, Mr. DeSoto."

"No problem.  Call me Roy."

"Okay, Roy." Comforted, Tom dropped off into fitful sleep. 
He never even felt Roy come over to cover him with a blanket 
to ward off the cold.  

============================

  
It was a long cold night for Johnny.  He looked at his watch 
and realized that neither Tom or Roy should take the next shift, 
with the long walk to come, as he was feeling okay. Knowing that 
he'd be staying behind with Chakotay meant he'd be able to rest
well later. So Johnny decided to let the two sleep on.

The fire was still glowing and its warmth felt good, even from 
a distance.  Johnny got up and checked Chakotay's vital 
signs and his overall condition yet again.  He was still the same, 
on the low side of normal, which was a good sign to Johnny. His 
shock was still taking a very slow advancement for his type
of injury.

Johnny was about to pull his hand away, when it was gripped 
by Chakotay's sweating one.

"Everything is okay, Chakotay.  Just try to rest."  Johnny made to
break the grip, but he was held firm.  He gave up trying to ease 
the stricken man in the grip of his new pain, Johnny started talking 
with him. "What tribe are you from?" 

Chakotay opened his eyes in confusion and looked at John.  
He noticed Johnny's features and realized Johnny was a Native 
American. But then his better reasoning kicked in. Afraid of the Prime 
Directive, Chakotay didn't respond.

"I'm Sioux � Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe in South Dakota."
Johnny offered to him.

Chakotay heard the information, but it didn't register to John that 
he knew what that meant. The man just shook his head, released 
his grip on Johnny's palm and closed his eyes.

Roy approached the two and knelt down next to Johnny.  "How's 
he doing?"

"No changes."

"You were supposed to wake me."

"I wasn't THAT tired so I figured I stay on."

"You're gonna have your hands busy when you're alone again
with him, in about an hour.  You need your rest, too."

"Yes, Dad." Gage teased, finally agreeing.

The two men stood up.  Johnny walked over to the sleeping bags 
and gingerly got into the one Roy just vacated.  At least Roy's body 
heat was still there.  Johnny put his left arm over his face and was 
asleep in seconds.

Roy, relieved that Johnny was settled, moved some heated rocks close 
to himself.  He leaned back against the spot that Johnny had used and 
he let his mind wander.  He thought about their two new companions
and what possible reasons could exist about what they might be escaping.
::Commune refugees? Doesn't make sense. Despite of that story from the
both of them, their actions are speaking louder than their words.
It's clear they're holding back information about themselves. Not 
divulging any history at all. I wonder why?::

But then his concern over his patient made him fuss over the splint and 
O2 and I.V. line and suddenly, his unsubstantiated doubts were low priority.
::If I'm going to risk treating this man, I better be right in my decision to 
assume his care outside my sphere of influence like this with the I.V.::
he mentally decided.

Time passed slowly.

Morning hues of marmalades and lemon sunlight brightened the eastern 
sky.  Tom Paris woke up with a start, but quickly remembered where he 
was.  Sleeping near him was Johnny.  On the other side of the campsite, 
Roy was sitting near Chakotay.  Roy was asleep sitting up.  His hand was 
on Chakotay's arm, where he could still feel the movement of the 
commander's breathing underneath it.  Tom looked at Roy and then 
looked at Johnny. ::From what I've read about firemen from the past, these 
guys are real heroes.  Boy am I lucky that they found us.:: he thought.

Tom got out from the sleeping bag and went to the provisions.  He saw 
the coffee pot that Johnny had mentioned the day before.  He went down to 
the stream, carrying the canteens and stared at the water.  Emotions
welled up inside of him.  He was on earth, his actual home. Even if it wasn't 
his real time, it was still feeling painfully like home.  ::I can't think about it.  
We can't stay here.:: Bending down, Tom cupped his hands and slurped up 
some cold water from a canteen. It chilled him but tasted sweet.  He 
filled up the other canteens from the nearby trout stream and headed 
back to the campsite.

Tom found the coffee grounds in a sack and he really had to remember 
how to prepare the fresh coffee. ::Wow, this is the real stuff, not from a 
food dispenser or one of Neelix's paltry coffee like concoctions, but real 
fresh java. Oh, Kathryn.:: he thought. ::If only you were here. You'd be in 
heaven.:: he smiled about Captain Janeway.

Doing the best he could, Tom put the coffee grounds into the top and the
 water in the bottom and put the percolator on the grate covering the fire.   
He continued rummaging through the food supplies.  The least he could 
do was make breakfast for his new friends. 

Johnny heard Tom moving about the camp and got up.  Stretching to 
get the kinks out, he walked over to Roy.  He bent down and looked at 
Chakotay and the oxygen mask to make sure it was still in place and flowing.  
Roy woke up hearing Johnny inflate the BP cuff.

"I thought you were going to wake Tom."  Johnny asked as the cuff 
hissed out for a reading.

"He woke himself. Probably worrying a bit." DeSoto shrugged. Looking 
at their patient, Roy asked, "How is Mr. Chakotay?"

"Holding his own.  I'll watch him while you get yourselves ready for the 
hike." Johnny sat down in Roy's place and Roy got up.  He walked over 
to the fire and picked up a canteen and took a long swallow.
"Smells good, what are you making, Tom?"

"I found your pancake mix so I experimented.  I found fresh 
berries that you had picked and stored over there so I added them 
to the batter."

Roy bent down and picked up two mugs and poured out a cup of coffee.  
Finding the sugar he put in three teaspoons.  "Want some coffee, too?"  
Roy took a sip.

Tom flipped some pancakes and nodded his head yes. "I can't refuse."
he grinned.
 
Roy poured a cup for him and placed it down.  He then moved the coffee 
pot away from his partner, fearing a repeat of Johnny's accident. He 
teased him a bit by making a show of dragging it away from his booted feet
without saying anything.

"I learned my lesson, Roy. Would you cut it out?" Gage griped.

"How's Chakotay doing, Mr. DeSoto?" Paris asked.

"He's holding his own.  Amazing, considering the belly bleed. I bet he 
comes from strong stock.  After breakfast, we should get moving.  
It will take four hours to get to that park base.  And even then the rangers'll 
have to muster a group with stokes and their gear for about fifteen more
minutes before we can start back here. Afterwards, it'll take even more 
time until we can cut out a safe clearing for a helicopter."

Tom frowned. 

"You're not afraid of flying are you?"  Roy smiled.

Tom laughed.  "Me? Of flying? No fear whatsoever. It's just that-- 
Oh, never mind." he said when his amusement failed him at the memory
of Delta Flyer's current condition.

Tom sat with Chakotay while Roy and John ate breakfast nearer to
the fire.  Tom was worried.  He was worried for his friend's well being, 
but the longer they were away from their shuttle, the more difficult it 
would be to get back onboard ship once Voyager detected them.

Roy was packing up his backpack and provisions that he'd carry with him.  
Tom was also rolling up a map they had shown him which showed the 
route to the Ranger base and he expertly tested the hand held radio
with the familiarity of solid Captain Proton holodeck experience. 

Roy watched Johnny take a couple of aspirins.
"You okay?"

Gage looked up from the face he was making as he washed down
the acrid stuff with left over coffee from his mug. 
"Yeah, I'm fine.  Just a bit achy.  Carrying him all that way made me sore.  
The aspirin will help." Then he realized that Roy was mother henning 
him again. He turned sarcastic while Roy grinned, "Listen, just forget 
about my dumb aches. You be sure to use that radio when you're 
gone. We've got that nice range of ten miles. And they should still work 
the distance between us even when you both get there to the tower."  
He shivered as he bound his down vest tighter around himself.

Roy looked at his friend but Johnny turned away.  Roy wasn't sure if 
Johnny was telling the complete truth about his energy level. He 
decided to let Johnny manage his own reserves and let things go 
without further prying. ::My main worry is for Chakotay.::
"Let's go Tom."

Tom nodded, but before leaving, he walked over to Chakotay. He 
knelt by the Commander but didn't disturb him beyond speaking.  
"Chakotay, I'm leaving now with Roy.  John, I mean Johnny, will be 
staying behind.  He'll take good care of you, so don't worry.  
Leave it to me and them to find us that medical help like we talked 
about last night."

The Commander didn't indicate that he knew Tom was above him. 
But Tom knew even in his deep sleep, he had been heard.

With that, Tom and Roy left.

---------------------------------
 
They made good time. Tom hefted his pack a little more
firmly around his shoulders about an hour later. He
broke their concentrated silence while they navigated
the narrow trail leading to the ranger's tower that they could
see far across the valley.

The distance Paris figured they had still yet to go prompted
a question from him to his paramedic guide. "Seems to me 
that you two should have had a vehicle or other form of transportation 
a little closer to camp than this. I saw your flight glider in the grove 
before we left."

Roy smiled, turning back, moving a pine bow out of his
companion's way, "Flight glider? Oh, you mean Johnny's
hang glider. Heh. That's a hobby of his he's managed
to hang onto years after I gave it up. He says it helps build
character making him "one with the eagles" soaring up 
there. Some years he actually finds them flying in the valley."

Tom nodded back. "Nice.."

Roy went on, "To answer your question, we hiked in instead of driving 
for a similar reason. Johnny likes feeling like he's shedding 
the city in the process of getting to camp. Takes a full nine miles to
do that he says." 

Paris sighed, "Right now. I wish I could just snap my fingers and
undo everything that happened to us in the last day or two."

Roy laughed, "Don't think that'd ever be possible." And he forged
on ahead along the trail.

Tom muttered under his breath, "Oh, you'd be surprised if I told
you it was..." he said softly, thinking of the Q.

DeSoto didn't hear him as he took up his binoculars and
spied ahead, in line of sight with the tower. "We should be
close enough." And he retuned his handy radio to the universal
distress frequency to contact any rangers who might be
there. "Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Roy DeSoto on 
emergency band 21. Come in ranger station.."

Static met his ears.

Tom's forehead furrowed, "What's the range on that thing again?"

"Ten miles."

Tom eyeballed the shimmering tower he saw through the fog
on the ridge across the valley. "We're way closer than 
that to it. Any radio over there should be picking us up.."

Roy pointed to another section of the ridge. "This is 
Cretaceous Strata below us. Bound to be some magnetic
interference from the rocks around here in isolated pockets.
We just may be over one. Come on.." And he gestured for 
Tom to follow him. "We'll try again in the meadow. It's just ahead."

--------------------------------

Johnny cleaned up camp keeping an ear out for Chakotay.
He didn't stray far from the wounded man's side as he
worked.

He eyeballed the fire. ::I think I'll keep that going all day.
He's gonna get chilled even more than he already is
with that belly bleed.::
When he was through, he knelt by the big man's side 
and looked at his pupils again using the sun light for
his stimuli. Chakotay did not awaken.

Concerned, Johnny felt the strength of his breathing
with a hand and gently shook his shoulder. "Hey. 
How are you doing?"

Chakotay startled awake. "Look out! We're gonna cra--"
he shouted, jolting awake. He cut off his sentence when
he saw Johnny's face above his own.

Gage straightened his face growing serious. "Just what
do you mean by that? And don't tell me you were having
a dream. Is that what you two were really up to when we
found you?  Flying un-permitted into National Park airspace's 
illegal."

Chakotay froze as his memory returned in snatches, of
exactly where he was. He could tell by his benefactor's
body english that anything but the truth wasn't going
to wash. He told the truth. Boldly. "You're right. We
crashed while..... sightseeing."

Johnny threw his head to the side, "Aowww man.. Did
your friend check to make sure fuel didn't spill out?
Last thing we need is a forest fire starting."

Chakotay smiled, "Don't have to worry about that 
with our flyer, our "fuel"'s not your standard variety
combustible."

Gage sighed, "Don't tell me, you two are thrill 
seekers, experimental pilots and fellow adventurers
all rolled into one."

"You could say that. Part of the job."

Gage's grin dropped away, "Then why the cover story?"

"Wouldn't you lie too if you crashed down into forbidden territory?
Picture the consequences. Revoked pilot's licenses,
criminal trespass charges, worse...." Chakotay said.

Johnny said, "Yeah, well. My responsibility to you is strictly
medical. I don't want to get involved in a court scene over
this any more than I have to. Once we get you to the hospital.
You don't know me."

"I can live with that." Chakotay admitted, inwardly pleased
that his rescuer wanted little contact with the Flyer's 
crash site. He shifted his neck on the bundle of clothes
his head rested on and winced at a sharp stab which
took his breath away.

Johnny instantly caught his head. "Easy. Staying still
has been masking your injuries. You're still bleeding
internally." he reported, turning on the O2 again when
Chakotay's lips turned blue while his skin paled. "This
will help a bit."

Chakotay sighed, "Thanks.." He rested for a few moments,
catching his breath. "So.. how does it feel to be a Native
American working in the big city?"

Johnny grinned, setting himself down on the seat of his
pants after he put another blanket over Chakotay.
"Feels great. My family says it's just another kind of
reservation there... A high tech one..that pays a LOT 
better."

"Know what you mean.." Chakotay said. "My people feel
the same about my career choice."

"Oh? And what's that?" 

"I fly and I'm a Commander. Tom and I have served together."

Johnny grew thoughtful. "So that's why Paris is so respectful
of you. I thought I heard him call you that last night. Bet
he's not a commander. That's really great. I myself.. "
and he grinned lopsidedly, "...have never been drafted, know
what I mean?  Never had the time being in the department
and all.. and it's still not likely that my kind of people are widely
accepted in the military these days."

"Same here." Chakotay admitted. "My father was dead set 
against my leaving."

"You like your boss?" John said.

"Pardon?"

Johnny reiterated, "Do you like who you work for?"

"Oh, sure. Kathryn's been an inspiration to me. We've
been through a lot of scrapes together. Although,
a lot of times, we don't see eye to eye."

"Know what you mean." Johnny chuckled, "Sometimes, Cap
can be a real pain in the a--"

He broke off when his radio popped into life. Gage
snapped it up. "Roy? That was fast."

Roy's voice came over clearly, ##Hate to burst your
bubble but we're still across the valley from
the ranger tower. There's too much electrostatic
interference here for my radio to transmit to them
to see if anyone's about this morning yet.##

Chakotay crooked a finger to the radio asking to
see it by motioning. "Let me speak to Tom."

Johnny handed it over.

"Tom." Chakotay said, "Remember your "flight pin"?
The one we all wear on our uniform...?"

Paris took the hint without being obvious to Roy.
##Yeah, I got it here.##

"Good. Glad you didn't lose it. Kathryn would be
very upset with us if we showed up for work to fly
without them later on.."

Tom thought, ::Chakotay's been forced to say a little
of our true origin.. But how much?:: he wondered.

He listened as the commander spoke on. "Listen,
lieutenant."

Tom took the hint, ##Yes, sir!## falling into character.

"....the metal casing on the pin may help as an
antennae so you can extend the range of your
frequency..got that?" Chakotay said, throwing
implied hints to Tom.

##Yes, sir! Commander, sir.## he said, playing it up
well for Roy's benefit. Tom understood right away
how much Chakotay had told John about themselves.
##Trying to use the pin, sir. Paris out.##

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

And he pulled out his Voyager's combadge and pressed
it in a subtle way Roy didn't notice. Its booster worked.
It began augmenting the battery operated radio into a more 
powerful signal. He took the pin and taped it to the
radio antennae in a show like he was improvising.
"Try it now, Roy." He gave the radio back to him.

Roy mumbled, "Chakotay's your boss in the army?"

Tom nodded. "He's a tough one, too."

"Sounds like it." the fair haired man chuckled.
Roy lifted the radio to his lips and said, 
"Ranger Tower this is Roy DeSoto on emergency
band 21. Mayday."

There came a reply instantly...
 
##DeSoto at Tag 51 this is Sierra at Ranger Tower, we 
copy your transmission. What is your emergency?##

Roy toggled the talk button. "Sierra, we have an injured--"

"Don't say pilot, please." Tom whispered urgently at Roy.
"Maybe I'll be allowed to show you why..." he said, biting his lip.
::Now you've hammered the last nail on the coffin. Chakotay's 
gonna love you for this.:: screamed his inner conscience.
"It's a matter of national security." Tom began again, grabbing
one of Roy's shoulders firmly, keeping his gaze steadily. Paris 
held up a mock up of a federal agent's license and metal badge 
from the Delta Flyer's disguised, replicated pack that he had 
carried since the beginning.

"Wh--?" DeSoto gaped, shocked.
Roy eyed Paris and the I.D. with a jolt, and then continued as
requested. "...man at our campsite. He has multiple trauma and 
a fractured humerus. We've started an emergency I.V. and he's 
on oxygen. We're requesting an immediate flight with an available 
rescue copter."

##DeSoto, what is your treatment capability? We note your
paramedic status on paperwork.## replied the ranger in the 
park tower.

"Limited. I'm with one of the victim's.......coworkers." he added
hesitating.

##10-4, we're sending in a Sierra team.  We'll rendevous to your 
location first to pick up both of you. We have your radio coordinates
locked on transceiver scope.## 

"Roger that. Tell the hospital that a surgeon will definitely 
be needed asap."

##Affirm, Tag 51. Hang tight. Our E.T.A. is six minutes.##

Roy sighed as he lowered his radio. "Well that saves a few
miles for the both of us, going there and coming back." he said,
eyeing up the distant ranger tower on top of the ridge. He pulled
off and handed the taped combadge back to Tom.
"They know exactly where we are now." he replied. "Thanks for 
that mini repeater's usage. Though I can say I've never ever
seen one that tiny before."

"It's one of a few, new experimental toys we've just got issued." 
Paris fibbed, pinning the combadge back onto its usual place 
on his shirt. "That's why we were flying over the park, to test 
one of them out away from the city in a rural area." he lied again 
levelly, trying to dismiss the subject. "I'm glad Chakotay, at the very 
least, is going to have a fighting chance here now."

"You've realized how bad he is?" DeSoto asked in surprise.

"Intimately. Sometimes I work mandatory duty in sickbay back 
home. You pick up a few things." Tom grinned tightly.

DeSoto sat down on a storm cracked stump to rest.
"Tell me one thing. Do I have your word that your downed aircraft
out there in the woods isn't about to start a forest fire? I'm asking 
that as part of my job. I'm guessing that you two have already got 
the army or something coming in to muscle it out of any potential 
public eye, sight unseen. It'll be my neck if a forest fire risk exists
and it's found out that I didn't report it."

Tom sucked in a careful breath through his nose cautiously.
"She won't be starting any fires, Roy. This I know. I helped build her." he 
said with exasperation and a little cockiness. "There are triple redundancies 
designed into every operating system that way. They don't break."

DeSoto became short tempered.
"Then why didn't you radio out to your bosses about the accident the 
moment it happened?! Chakotay was clearly in no kind of condition to 
delay getting any help."

Paris was struck speechless, trying to think fast on how to answer.

Roy's eyes flashed at him for his silence.
"I know all military jets have rock solid transponders
that go off automatically upon any crash landing. I served in Nam. 
Something about the two of you isn't ringing absolute truth here. No matter
how hard I try to put my finger on it." DeSoto snapped angrily. He was tired, 
sore, and mad that he was involved in yet another emergency situation
during his rare, hard won weekend time off.

Paris didn't flinch. "Mr. DeSoto, I can't tell you more. I'm under strict
orders. Just be satisfied that Chakotay and I are going to be in really
big trouble once we get back home. Kathryn won't stand for anything
more than the barest minimum action necessary to fix an on the ground 
situation like ours. You..... wouldn't want to meet her eye to eye when 
facing the music, believe me.." he said, paling visibly at the memory 
of such moments in the past on Voyager.

Roy's ire fizzled. "That bad, eh?"

"Worse." Tom nodded, empathetic. "Captain Janeway dresses down
like pure hydrochloric acid. Trust me."

"She sounds a lot like Dr. Brackett when a patient's treatment goes awry
with a new medic or intern."

"Dr. Brackett?"

"Kel's his name. He's my medical boss." Roy finally grinned. "Taught me 
and Johnny everything we know about emergency medicine. Tough as 
nails. Stubborn. And he's absolutely right about any argument we might 
have, all the time."

"Sounds painfully familiar." Tom commiserated, taking a sip from his canteen 
after toasting to the memory.

Roy scoffed in amusement. "He's not that bad." But then his expression fell into
a very uncomfortable frown. "Only when you're on the.... receiving end 
of it." He cleared his throat dryly. "Makes you feel like you're five years old 
again in a heartbeat." he thought with barely veiled remembered horror.

"Ouch." Tom passed him the canteen in sympathy. "Here, looks like you
need this more than I."

"Thanks." Roy said, and began to gulp of it, deeply. 

----------------------------------------------------- 

Johnny Gage looked up from the light doze he had been taking while
sitting Indian style by the fire a few minutes later.

Chakotay had begun to pant again, rapidly.

Gage crawled quickly over to the sleeping bag with the full medkit.

"Chakotay? Tell me what the problem is. What's the matter? What's 
wrong?" he said, feeling the quality of the pulse in the commander's 
neck. It was thready, barely felt. "I'm right here."

"Can't.. breathe... .. There's pain." Chakotay choked out.

Gage swept eyes up and down his body, looking for more blood effects.
"Where? In your belly? Just try to relax. Keep taking breaths off of
the oxygen, it'll help you a whole lot." he said cranking up the liter flow
to its topmost aperature.

An odd, silvery shimmer swept across Chakotay's brow briefly. Then his
back arched in a sudden convulsion. He grunted tightly, unconsciously,
ignoring Johnny's quiet encouragements to calm down. A pale area
on his chin and neck quickly turned red, and swollen and he started
to cough weakily.

::Anaphylaxis?! Looks like an allergic reaction or something.::
Gage reached into Roy's med kit and pulled out their ambu bag. 
"Chakotay, does your throat feel like it's tightening? Closing off?"

But the commander's gasps weakened even more before he could reply.
His eyes rolled up into his head dully as another silvery shimmer
glinted in the sunlight on his face. On Chakotay's hand, a spidery 
Borg implant suddenly erupted through the skin and clamped down 
tightly onto it, like a stapled disk on cloth.

Johnny didn't see the strange sign. He just acted as a good paramedic,
baring his patient's chest and tilting back his head to clear an airway
in a listening check. Chakotay's bubbling wheezes and cyanosis were
growing stronger so Gage began to firmly bag squeeze pure oxygen into 
Chakotay's lungs as the distressed man fell into a sudden limp 
unconsciousness. 

Thinking fast, Johnny reached for the vial of epinephrine that Roy had laid
out on a rock near a packaged syringe and needle. He ripped it open, drew 
up an emergency dose and injected it into Chakotay's I.V. port as he dialed 
it up wide open. ::Okay, on borrowed time now. These shot's'll only turn away 
the allergy for twenty minutes per injection.:: he thought, returning to his 
resuscitative support of Chakotay's poor breathing efforts. ::What's he 
allergic to here? Man, I really wish I had a full medical history on this guy.::
 
-------------------------------------------------- 

Back on the ridge, Roy's radio went off. ##Roy! Tom! Tell 'em to step it up
a little! Chakotay's going south and I don't know why!## Gage said over his 
channel.

"We'll be there yesterday!" Paris said into it as he watched Roy guide
in the helicopter to their landing area with hand gestures. "What's going on?"

##Some kind of reaction. He's not breathing so hot. Started just a minute 
ago. And it's not due to the internal bleeding. His pressure's still the same. 
Palpable at the brachial.## Gage reported, still bagging oxygen into Chakotay's 
lungs fully whenever he couldn't inhale some in on his own. ## I've given him 
a first dose of epi. But I've only got one more left! His skin's really losing 
its perfusion color.##

::What the h*ll?!:: Paris quailed. Then he realized all at once. ::Oh, sh*t! That Borg
tractor that snagged us just before we entered the Halley's Comet wormhole! 
It must have been some kind of new way for them to infect people remotely.::
Tom said the only thing he could. "We're doing good if he's still got a pulse.
Be there soon. Do what you can." Paris finally saw his hand signal from the 
red helmeted ranger pilot to climb on board with Roy. "We're taking off now!" 

##Let me talk to Roy!## Gage demanded urgently.

Tom passed off the radio to DeSoto as he got buckled in. "Complications."
he told him.

"Johnny, go." Roy said, acknowledging as he watched Tom Paris buckle in. 

The rescue chopper took off.

##Allergic reaction! One of the worst I've ever seen. He's breathing somewhat
without obstruction so I haven't intubated yet. Tell them to have epi standing by
even before that defibrillator, Roy.##

"I hear ya loud and clear." he said and then he toggled the headset he was 
wearing to communicate with the pilots and other ranger medic to relay the news.
"Adult epi, sudden onset acute anaphylaxis." he ordered the flight medic, as the 
paramedic in charge.

"Roger. I'll get it set up." said the man.

"Johnny, we'll be there in just minutes." Roy told Gage as they roared over
the pine trees towards Tag 51.

##I can already hear ya!##

---------------------------------------------------- 

Tom Paris stepped to the forest floor, pulling off his helmet quickly.
He ran to Roy. "I'm going on ahead while you guys unload the litter!"

"Here!" said the medic, passing off the capped, prepared syringe to Tom.

"Got it!" Tom told him. Then he started running for the campsite down
the mountain. Once he was out of sight in the trees, he hit his combadge. 
"Paris to Delta Flyer, come in!"

The shuttle's computer voice came to life. ##Working.##

"Emergency beam out! One to the transporter pad." he shouted, holding
still as the Flyer's transient energy took hold.

Tom Paris materialized inside of the dark smoky interior of the Flyer.
"Lights!" he shouted, rushing for a special console set into the wall
above the destroyed medical biobed. He flipped down a hatch and
pulled out a spare empty hypospray into his hand as he activated a med
tricorder by flipping it open. He knelt onto the floor and started scanning
the crash filthy carpetting. "Come on, there's got to be some of them
still here."  The tricorder dutifully beeped at a spot on the floor just
behind the co-pilot's seat. Taking a probe, Tom began magnetically 
picking up unseen microscopic objects and dumping them into a waiting
petris dish he had snatched from out of a shattered lab kit. 

Power flickered briefly. "Girl, don't fail on me yet." Tom said to the sleek
but battered little ship. He leaped for the medical hatch again and pulled 
out a small trapezoidal chip, held it up into the air about shoulder height 
and pressed it. "I still need you. Computer, activate the EMH!"

"Please state the nature of the medical--" said a familiar hologram
as it sprang to life and filled out underneath the portable holo emitter
that Tom was holding. It was the emergency medical hologram, a 
balding dark eyed male in a blue and black tunic'd medical suit.

"Doc! No time to talk. Chakotay's being assimilated by Borg nanoprobes
outside a few miles away. We're on Earth of the past by a few hundred
years. I need two things. I need you to reprogram some of these into a 
cure for him and I need another batch made into disassemblers to take apart
this whole shuttle right down to the molecular level!" He passed off his
collection dish of Seven's shed Borg skin nannites over to the EMH. 
"Think you can handle that?"

"What am I? An hallucination?" the projection snapped as he began
work with a subatomic protoplaser beam Paris gave him from the alcove.

"Close. You're a replica Chakotay and I have been experimenting with
and'll be only online for another minute or so. Then the Delta Flyer's emergency
batteries will fail and very soon after that, you'll die off for good."

"Wonderful. Nice to know I'll live such a long, happy life." the EMH said sarcastically
as he played first a blue beam over half the dish, then a yellow one over the other
side. He finished work and shut off his sophisticated tool with a snap. He shoved
the dish back into Tom's shaking hand. "Do me a favor, Flyboy. Save my portable 
holoemitter and reconstitute me onto the next ship the two of you build when you 
finally get back to the right century. I like being activated like this more than you 
can ever possibly know. The first time here wasn't exactly a charm."

"Done." Paris told him, meeting his eye. "Which ones are the fix?" he said, holding 
up his empty hypospray toggled into the absorb setting.

"Think blue." the EMH said, hurt. "Like my holoshirt." he said pulling on his collar.
"Yellow is always anti-biohazard. My G*d, Mr. Paris. Have you forgotten your sickbay
medic's training already?"

"Not by a long shot. Thanks, doc." he said, sucking up Seven's blue glowing 
reprogrammed Borg cure nannites into his hypospray while the EMH held up
the dish in mock impatience. "From both Chakotay and me." Paris sighed expansively,
and very eager in his stress. "Now, how to I use Seven's disassemblers here?"

The EMH didn't even blink, but a hint of emotion played across his unreal features.
"Are you sure you want to end all hope of you getting back into orbit and back home 
to Voyager? Once the Flyer's destroyed, the away team won't be able to figure out 
where on this primitive mudball you are easily."

"We'll take our chances, doc. Prime Directive, remember?" 

"What about the Hippocratic Oath? First due no harm? I can't imagine Earth of
this time enjoying having you around." the doc sniffed.

"Funny, doc. Now, how do I melt the d*mned ship?"

The EMH snatched the dish with the remaining yellow glowing nannites from
Tom's hand and tossed its contents over his shoulder dryly. The sparkles landed
on the back of the smashed pilot seats and still smoking flight console. Where
they fell, matter started disappearing into nonexistence. Tom began to see
just scorched forest floor appearing into the hungrily eating nannite decay holes
as they grew larger. "Both types of nannites will self destruct the same way as
the Delta Flyer soon as they've served their purpose. No muss, no fuss. Your
crash crater will be mistaken for a lightning strike's work."

Tom grinned. "Thanks." and he started heading for the door after grabbing up
a few other handy devices into his away team pack.

"Wait! Remember your promise to me?!" said the doc, looking nervous 
as the decay started making the shuttle's power sputter.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Tom said, plucking off the doc's holoemitter from the EMH's
shoulder area in mid air. The holodoctor disappeared from view.

Paris pocketed the doc's program and called out aloud. "Paris to Delta Flyer.
One to beam out to my previous coordinates. Mark!"

##C-Complying.## the shuttle stuttered as she began to rapidly unconstitute 
into organic dust from stem to stern.

::Ah, that's a sad sight. My poor girl. All that work.:: Tom mourned. ::I sure hope
Captain Janeway'll be far happier about this than I am. Temporal Prime Directive 
my---::

Paris dematerialized.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tom reappeared out of the transporter beam at a run. He got to the rescue
team's side just as they finished strapping in the last stokes strap around
Chakotay's long board.

"Where did you go?" Roy asked him, holding up Chakotay's I.V. as the
park rangers lifted up the basket stretcher in a careful carry to move
to the helicopter. They allowed time as they walked for Gage to continue 
breathing for Chakotay using the oxygen BVM. Roy held the I.V. bag in his
teeth as he accepted the epinephrine syringe Tom gave him and prepared
to use it.

Paris looked properly abashed.
"I... got turned around. I thought I was closer to the creek than I actually
was when I turned right." Tom said.  He watched as all the rescuers intently 
watched Roy injecting the medication. Then, when they weren't looking, 
using sleight of hand, Tom injected a dose from the shuttle's hypospray of blue 
nannites into Chakotay's side out of sight underneath the shock sheet. ::Too 
bad the doc didn't have time to whip up a batch of red surgical repair nannites 
for me. But, beggars can't be choosers.:: Paris wished. ::We didn't have time 
enough.::

The second the nannites had finished being pressed through Chakotay's
clothes into his circulatory system, the commander started to cough vigorously
with new life around the ventilations.

"That did it." Johnny smiled. "The new epi's working!" he said,
switching out the ambu bag to a plain oxygen mask as they moved swiftly 
towards the rescue chopper. "He's breathing normally again."

"Whew! That was close!" Tom covered, his relief actually not feigned.
"Thanks, Johnny. We owe you one."

"Anytime." smiled the Native American paramedic.

Still being crafty, Tom monitored the nannites progress in their cure with
a medical tricorder poking out a zippered pouch from his backpack that he 
held neatly in front of him as if he was nervous. He located the only Borg 
eruption that had made it to the surface.

Tom watched as the sole Borg implant fell off of the back of Chakotay's hand as
the pale silvery skin healed and turned flesh toned again. He pocketed the 
spidery thing discreetly out of view. With his fingers, he felt the blue nannites
disintegrate the device to powder inside of his pocket. 

Sighing in relief, he hung his head in weariness and followed all of his rescuers
to the helicopter. ::I wonder what's going to happen to us now?::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 High in the sky, the Sierra team's rescue helicopter raced over the 
mountains and onwards, until the craft was arrowing fast over the 
richly urban gridded Los Angeles County suburbs. 

Johnny Gage finished relaying his latest transmission to Rampart Hospital.
"..His most acute histamine reaction symptoms were successfully counteracted 
following the second dose of epinephrine I.V. Whatever has caused them initially 
seems to have vanished. Respirations, no longer assisted, are twenty and regular. 
Skin color's now re-perfused and normal. Pulse is rapid but strong at 110. Tell the 
surgeons we've utilized MAST trousers to stave off a slow increasing decompensation 
due to suspected internal injuries. We're holding his pressure above 90.
Consciousness is in and out, reactive only to pain."

##10-4, 51.## said Dixie McCall.## Have information available on landing about next 
of kin so we can look up his past medical history. We especially need a blood type 
for transfusion support.##

Sitting next to Roy, Tom Paris didn't look away from Chakotay's still face as he 
spoke automatically. "He's Class M Biped-- I mean Type AB with Rh + factors."

"How do you know that?" Roy asked raising his eyebrows. "I thought Chakotay was
just a casual navy friend of yours."

Tom took in a deep breath and thought hard. "Says on his... dog tags." he covered 
neatly. "We swapped ours once as a joke to see if we could fool our doctor's sca-- uh,.. 
examination when we were first stationed together on ship. You see, Chakotay was my 
new commander at the time and that was one way to break some ice by sharing a 
similar sense of humor.." he said limply, shrugging a shoulder.

DeSoto lifted his HT. "Rampart, type is AB + according to a navy witness."

##We'll attempt to locate that blood type ASAP. Continue running in his Ringer's 
wide open and support any further breathing problems as they arise. We'll be standing 
by on the helipad.## said Dixie.

"I'm AB +." said Johnny, surprised. "If they can't find a fresh supply by the time we 
land, I'm volunteering."

"Thanks, Johnny." Paris said, and he meant it.

Roy eyed up Paris as he scribbled hasty notes onto a run sheet the rangers had given 
him. "Any relatives?"

Tom shook his head. "No chance of that. I'm afraid we're all alone in that department."

"Career men?" DeSoto guessed.

"It's why we joined." Tom nodded dryly, meek.

"I sympathize." Johnny piped up. "I'm not too rich in the family department eith-- Ouch.." 
said Gage absently, scratching his lower leg.

DeSoto glanced at him. "What? Muscles getting sore? You've had a busy day, Junior." 
he teased, not surprised at Johnny's grousing.

"No, my water scald's itching." Johnny told him.

"Relax. It's probably healing already, knowing you." Roy chuckled.

"After one day?" Johnny said, annoyed at Roy's amusement at his expense.

Tom's face went instantly alert. ::Uh oh.:: "Did you get it dirty, Johnny? You know, 
blood contaminated at all? Chakotay stayed bleeding quite a bit from his head wound 
for a while after you started carrying him."

Gage analyzed lightly, dismissing the question. "I don't remember feeling anything 
drip on it. And even if I did get soiled that far down through my clothes, the morning 
dew from the trail washed it off again while we were doing all of that fast hiking. My feet 
and lower legs are absolutely soaked to the skin. I'm still wet, see? So no, I'm not worried 
about catching anything contagious. You guys have had all your shots, being in the Navy 
like you are."

"You're right. Chakotay's been fully immunized." ::Now, at any rate. But it's not his 
Borgification changes that I'm worried about.:: he confirmed mentally, touching his medical 
tricorder inside of his backpack ::It's yours.:: he thought at Johnny, seeing an urgent 
biocontamination amber light beginning to flash. 

Tom dug out a few bottles of shuttle water he had stored and began piling three of them 
onto his lap.

When the two paramedics weren't looking, Tom reached into his pocket, drew out, and 
re-pressed his concealed hypospray against Chakotay's arm under the shock sheet, 
taking a quick blood sample. ::I hope there's some intact nannites still cleaning up in 
Chakotay's bloodstream. Gage needs them now. Real soon here.::  He didn't dare scan 
Johnny again to check for the progress of his new Borg infection directly. He chose subtlety. 
He toggled filter-mode on the hypo and pressed out a pill sized dose Seven's nanoprobes 
into his palm from Chakotay's blood sample. They were still flickering blue sparkles 
deep inside the tiny shimmering sphere rolling around on his hand.  ::Good.:: thought 
Tom. ::This bunch is still actively working..::

Near him, Gage suddenly wiped away a sweat bead from a faintly mottling, black and white 
paling forehead. "Say, Roy. Think I can shanghai a bed off one of the residents once we get
there? I'm bushed."

"Act wounded and it's a done deal." Roy told him, amused. "Only price you're gonna have 
to pay is a quick examination by one of the doctors."

"G*d, I hope I don't get Morton." His tone of exasperation filled volumes. 

Tom snorted. "Sounds like our doc. Tactless is he?"

"Totally. And he's a bit on the gruff side with hands on." Gage grunted, still scratching 
his tingly leg.

"Fun." said Paris, sarcastically.

"Just the opposite." DeSoto mused, taking another palpated BP on Chakotay.

"I'd rather suffer a little than risk seeing that guy in a heartbeat." Johnny shared.

"Your call." Roy smiled. "Our patient's holding steady. 94 Systolic." he reported.

"Good deal." Johnny grinned, turning happier at once. "How's his abdomen doing?"

"Wanna check it?" Roy asked. 

Johnny turned to the task.

Tom cracked open one of the water bottles and dropped the nannite ball that he 
had retrieved into the water where it briefly fizzed a bright glowing blue as the tiny 
machines suddenly dispersed into the liquid as part of their Borg curing program. "Hey, 
Gage. Drink up." Paris said, smacking the side of Johnny's knee with the bottle after he 
shook it up. "Time to celebrate a perfect rescue." he grinned.

"Roy, he's real rigid all quadrants."Johnny turned around and accepted it. "Thanks, Tom. 
I am kind of thirsty all of the sudden." And he downed the whole offered bottle in seconds.

Tom Paris just cleared his throat and made sure none of the other rescuers in the 
chopper noticed anything unusual by smiling at them reassuringly. Tom watched as the 
last of the faintly blue lit water disappeared between Gage's lips. Seconds later, the 
slender man's natural ruddy red color returned with a vengeance, the Borg pallor fading 
away into nothingness. ::Whew.That was another really close call.:: "Went down good, 
eh?" he asked Johnny smugly.

"Tasted great. Where'd you get this stuff?" Johnny asked. "I feel better. I'm not tired 
anymore. Is it caffeinated?"

Paris shook his head.
"From a place called Neelix's, back at home. It's guaranteed one hundred percent pure."
he smiled, not feigning the truth. 

Gage smacked his lips as the last of the blue glowing Borg infection cure nannites sank 
microscopically under Gage's skin like electrified confectioner's sugar.  

Tom tipped his head, studying Johnny's face. "How do you feel?"

"Fine now. Guess I was a little dehydrated or something."

"You figure." Roy snorted, not looking up from the reassessment he was performing
on Chakotay's responses.

"Maybe I should drink water more often and less coffee." Gage decided.

Only then did Paris heave a very small sigh of relief when he realized that nobody else had
noticed anything amiss. Tom waved a weak hand. "Ours was really good for you. That 
I can promise."

"Huh. Plain I.V. formula, the original." Gage joked. 
Johnny turned his head. "Hey, Roy. Have one of Tom's bottles. Best water I've ever 
had. Not a hint of warm plastic stench or even the faintest ground minerals going down."

"Okay." DeSoto said, looking up from Chakotay's EKG monitor. He was suddenly
aware of being parched. "Tom, do you mind? We'll buy you new bottles later to replace 
your supplies." he said, holding up the one his partner had offered him.

"Deal! Do you know how long it's been since I've had real home brewed California water?" 
Paris quipped eagerly.

Both paramedics made you're-kidding faces at him in mutual displays of mildly disguised 
disgust.

"Uh, well, I guess it's an acquired.. craving. You see, we've.... both've been shipped out 
away from home for quite a while now." he said lamely, waving around the third Voyager 
gray, translucent water bottle. "Just got back for some R and R."

"I suppose so. Especially if you're just on a short leave from a long tour of duty." Johnny 
grimaced. "You gonna drink that?" he said, holding out a hand, eyeing Tom's carelessly 
fidget-spinning water bottle eagerly.

Tom gave it to him with a nod. He smiled again as he saw his almost Borg-ill paramedic 
patient completely heal, swiftly, before his appraising medic's eye. "She's all yours."
::Bet that's the first unpolluted water you've ever tasted in your whole entire life.:: he
thought. Just to be on the safe side, he snuck a peek at his tricorder. All lights were
green. On everybody this time. ::Mission accomplished.:: Paris sighed. Then he closed 
his eyes to doze quietly against the bulkhead.

Roy noticed. "We're five minutes out. Won't be long now." he told Tom.

Paris nodded in reflex at the news. ::Could have been instantaneous using
the shuttle's transporter.:: he countered mentally in misery. But he still smiled at his 
benefactors wearily in response. ::I just hope Chakotay pulls through okay. Then we 
can both worry about how we're going to survive here on pre-warp Earth. Later.::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
  
Dixie McCall and Dr. Brackett with a pair of orderlies were
waiting by the edge of the red and white crossed landing 
grid in the east parking lot of Rampart. They crouched
onto toes and knee holding the mattressless wheeled
gurney steady against the powerful blade wash as
Sierra's chopper touched down.

Roy DeSoto got on his handheld. "L.A. we're at Rampart for
patient transfer." he reported.

##10-4, 51. At 17:46.## replied Sam Lanier the
dispatcher. 

Johnny looked at Roy. "They're calling us by our station name."
he noticed.

"Yeah, why not? That's where we're from. Does it matter that
we're officially off duty? It's the same paperwork." DeSoto answered,
steadying the head of Chakotay's stokes as the Sierra team opened
the bay doors of the helicopter.

Tom Paris was the first to grab Chakotay's two I.V. solution bags
as they all got out.

The hospital four ran out onto the flight concrete as far out as they
could for safety's sake under the hot running blades of the helicopter
in front of the pilot. Sierra's two, with Roy and Johnny, ran with the
stokes, keeping low until they reached the hospital staff and their rolling 
bed.

"How's he doing?" Kel shouted over the roar of the stationary chopper
as he peeled back Chakotay's eyelids for a pupil check. 

"Better! Though he's still in and out. All his chest edema's gone." Roy
answered.

"Good deal." Brackett said as they all hurried for the hospital 
emergency doors. "Dix, as soon as we get there I want you
to draw bloods and have the lab run a creatine 
kinase and isoenzyme levels series, a CBC with differential, 
a PT, a PTT, an antinuclear antibody assay, and an erythrocyte 
sedimentation rate."

"Sure thing, Kel. I have a venipuncture tray already set up in
Treatment 2." she answered, pushing back her shoulder length,
wind whipped hair out of her eyes. "Surgery Four's standing by with
an abdominal team."

"We'll take the M.A.S.T. trousers off and stabilize him first before
he goes anywhere." Brackett told her.

Once Roy, Johnny, Kel and the orderlies rushed through the swinging
door of the treatment room, Dixie automatically took the I.V.s from Paris's
following hands and set a light palm on his chest to stop him from
entering.

Johnny spoke up. "Uh, he's kin er,.. the next best thing, Dix."

"Okay. He's in. Sir, I need some information.  Your name is what?" she said, 
swiftly hanging the nearly empty solution bags over a suspension pole's hook. 

Paris held up hands indicating himself in a questioning gesture at Roy
and Johnny. 

"It's for his medical chart, Tom. That's all. And some initially 
basic facts to go on it for consent purposes." Roy told him. 

"You don't need that. Treat him. He's out cold. He gets help automatically
by law I thought." Paris growled in stress.

Johnny looked up at Kel and Dixie from where he was transferring Chakotay's
oxygen. "They're deep navy, guys." he shared.

"Oh." Dixie sighed in understanding. McCall levelled at Tom, half serious. " Just
take it easy, Tiger. We're not going anywhere that's away from your friend. Doesn't matter 
where you two came from or what exactly it is that you do out there when you're not 
getting all smashed up into little bits.  An injured man needing surgery is all we see. 
Comprende? We don't wag tongues. Everything can be strictly confidential if need be."

"It has to be that way." Tom said.

"Fair enough." Dixie said quietly. "Shall we start from the beginning?"

"Uh, sure. Sorry, ma'am. I-I've been through a lot in the last day or so." Tom blinked.
"I'm not normally so wound up and he's not normally so wounded." he joked.

Dixie cracked a smile. "No need to apologize. What's your name?"

 "It's Tom Paris. Lt. Tom Eugene Paris. And I speak for him."

"Who's him?"

"Commander Chakotay."

"Is that his first name or last name?" McCall asked, knowing the services'
penchant for nicknames usually ran rampant in their comeraderie.

"It's his only name." Tom clarified. "You see, he's Native American."

"I gathered that." she said, pointing to Chakotay's sweaty Chaymoosee
face tattoo with her pencil.

"Oh. Sorry." Paris reacted nervously. "We're just used to people not
knowing who we are all the time on the job. It's an automatic reflex."

Roy looked up from the BP he was taking. "It's up. 120 over 70. Deflate the
legs first?" he asked Brackett.

"Yes, slowly. But only one leg at a time." Kel clarified, eyeing up Tom a
little analytically before he concentrated whole heartedly on his patient.
"Mr. Paris. Does Chakotay have any allergies that we need to know about?
I'm taking you on your word that AB positive is actually on your friend's
totally absent dog tags to save some time."

Tom winced. "It is." his mouth opened up self consciously. "Would you believe 
we left them at home?"

Dixie and Kel merely looked at him.

"Okay. Okay. Right. To the meat of it." Tom said. "I- I wouldn't know if he has any 
medication allergies if that's what you're driving at. But I know for a fact that he can 
eat any food he comes across no matter what port we find ourselves in. No matter
how alie-- foreign a place. Is that good enough?"

"It's a start." Kel grumbled. "Mr. Paris. I'm going to tell you like it is. Chakotay's
not out of the woods yet. His condition could be very serious. We won't know how
serious until we actually open up that distended belly and take a look around."

"Do what you have to do, doc." Paris moused. "I'm all for it. And so's he whether
he says so or not." Tom glared at his commander's dazed eyes that were open
but unfocused above the oxygen mask.

Kel turned to another nurse in the room. "Let's stave off more volume depletion, 
right now. Off the I.V. line, set up a piggy back half aperature blood transfusion. 
We'll find a donor."

"I'm the donor." Gage piped up, volunteering. 

Kel nodded. "Then I want you to begin a NS drip with 
dobutamine at 0.5-1 mcg/kg/min IV and titrate until you hear better 
compliance in his pericardium by auscultation. That med will 
definitely get his heart, stroke volume and cardiac output increasing 
out of shock reactions without dilating the blood vessels in the rest of 
his body where any internal bleeding we don't know about yet, might 
take hold."

Sharon, now an R.N., nodded. "Yes, Dr. Brackett. Right away."

Tom tried to smile around his obvious, silent worry. "You 
have a medication that acts like a chemical mast suit? I didn't 
know you guys had stuff like that in your drug arsenal.."

"It's a brand new therapy, Mr. Paris. Dr. Early, a colleague, 
okayed the preliminary human trials himself two months ago. I'm just glad 
the whole experiment worked out fast enough to help your friend here." 
Kel said calmly even as his hands worked fast to assess his patient.
He sighed under his breath as he ran hands down the areas of Chakotay's
body that Roy was exposing while he deflated the M.A.S.T. suit.
"Hmmm."

"What?" Tom spoke up eagerly.

"Chakotay doesn't seem to have any scarring anywhere. You know
normal wear and tear. I'd expect some on a service man." Brackett
said.

"He lives a charmed life." Tom said with conviction not looking away
from Dr. Brackett's eyes. "He's got a lucky rabbit's foot." ::And a very
good holographic EMH on Voyager.:: he thought, unbidden.

"Uh, doc, That's not so oddball as you might think." Gage defended.
"Mike Stoker doesn't have any either, and he's a nine year career 
fire fighter." he smiled crookedly.

"Lie down." Kel said without looking up at Gage as he indicated an
empty gurney next to Chakotay's. "Somebody's gonna tap your arm."

Johnny hurriedly volunteered, offering a flat arm out onto the sheets.

"I can do that. Uh, I'm a medic." Paris volunteered.

"Tom, you're in my hospital and you're going to do what I say." Kel said
evenly, still not looking away from the close palpation he was
doing on Chakotay's abdomen. "My nurses have that job. Nobody else.
You're out of your jurisdiction."

Tom swallowed. "That much is true."

"I used to be in the military." Kel grinned. "Now go get something to eat.
We'll let you know what happens just as soon as we can."

"Yes, sir." Paris finally agreed.

"I'll.......take him to the cafeteria. It's his first time here." Roy offered. 
"Need anything else, doc?"

"We're good." and then Kel began barking out more orders to his staff
clustered around Chakotay, everything from x-rays to a respiratory therapist
to knock him out for an early intubation to save prep time, and other things.

The doors closed between Tom, Roy and Chakotay and Paris suddenly felt the
separation acutely.

DeSoto smiled, setting a hand on Tom's dusty shoulder. "I have a feeling that
he's going to be okay. Brackett wasn't snapping at all like he usually does
when he has some outcome doubts about a patient."

"He sounded pretty mad to me."

"That's only because you weren't very straight with him." Roy said.

"I....have to be... that way." Tom said, looking down at suddenly worried, fidgetting 
hands.

"I know. I know. Naval secrets and all that." DeSoto said. "Come on, let me
buy you a cup of coffee and then we'll just go from there if you're feeling a little
hungry. I know I am. It's almost dinner time."

"It is?" Tom asked. Still disoriented by the glow of Earth's sun in his eyes through
the waiting room windows. "I guess I'm still not used to this time zone yet."

"Takes me a few days, too, when I travel. Come on, let's go. We can talk more
on the way about other things to get your mind off Chakotay's situation. He's gonna
be okay, really. Trust the instincts of an eight year paramedic." Roy comforted.

"Eight years? No kidding. And I've been drafted as a medic for nearly seven now.
What a coincidence. But I still feel like I lost time with him." he said, meaning how 
long it took them to get Chakotay to a doctor.

"Not exactly the golden hour. But he had your skills readily available."

"And the two of you." Tom finally smiled. "I really really appreciate that. Even if
Chakotay's gonna be mad as hell when he wakes up."

"Why is he gonna be mad?"

Tom sighed. "Because I went against orders."

Roy's eyes took up something like suspicion.

"No. No, not like that. Nothing national security. It's more like standing orders.
Divulging information."

"Oh, I understand. I know how that goes. I served in Nam a while back."
DeSoto shared.

"Nam?" 

"Vietnam. You know, Indonesia?" Roy prompted.

Tom just shook his head minutely, still clueless.

"Well, you are kinda young. Not like the navy really knew what the army was doing
a few years ago."

"You got that right." Tom muttered under his breath.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, Dr. Early was knuckle deep in Chakotay's vital organs. 
"Looks like it's a liver. And not bad at all." he announced to the surgical team 
ringing him. He looked up and flashed an okay sign at the observers in
the overhead dome. Then, quickly, he had a nurse suction out the
injured man's abdominal cavity. "About an inch of sutures, a patch
of this small lacerated vein here, and we're just about through." he 
grinned around his blue cloth mask. "Let's track along the colon
though, just to make sure he didn't perforate any bowel during
the accident. I think we're gonna get lucky that way too, I'm not smelling 
anything."

Sprawled across the viewing glass, Tom Paris dropped his head 
down onto his arms in relief. "I hope that gesture means what I want
it to mean." he said, still feeling horrified that cat gut thread was
currently being used inside of his friend, but hiding it.

Roy DeSoto smiled, thumping a hand held wrapped sandwich against
the back of Paris's waist. "It does. Come on and eat. I know you can."
he tempted. "Paramedics like us don't get queasy at the sight of gore.
Or am I mistaken?" he said, noticing a subtle change in Tom's face.

Paris quickly sat and grabbed the food. "You're not. I ....just...
expected lasers or something in the repair job."

DeSoto raised a couple of eyebrows. "You mean cautery? It wasn't
necessary. See? Chakotay isn't hemorrhaging out any more past their 
clamp job. I guess that MAST suit worked out in causing that torn outer 
vein to clot up a little for them."

"Cautery.. Oh, you mean as in burning and searing.." Tom said incredulously, 
suddenly not guarding his disgust over the whole process.

Roy just hung eyes at him, neutrally.
"Well, sure. That's much faster than suturing for the big jobs I've come to
know." DeSoto shared matter of factly while he dined on his own chicken
salad and wheat.

::Wanna bet...:: Tom thought behind the eyes. But out loud, he said.
"I haven't had the pleasure of learning that." 

Then his combadge beeped.

Roy startled. "What was that? The intercom?"

Paris shot to his feet. "Uh,.. I don't know.. I'll be right back though. I...
gotta a real sudden urge to use the head."

"Straight back out the way we came just past the elevator.." Roy
volunteered, suddenly concerned about the state of Tom's stomach.

Tom Paris barely let the swinging door close behind him when
he tapped the channel open on his chest. "Paris here." he said
quietly while he studied the long mirror's reflection of the bottoms
of all the toilet stalls along the row, looking for pairs of feet. 

##Lieutenant?## came a very familiar but frequency-broken,
male voice.

"Who is this?" Tom asked. "Voyager?"

##Not...exactly.## came the reply. ##Turn around.##

Tom Paris suddenly whirled from his inspection of the restroom,
searching in shock.

##No.. up here. In the security camera's lens..## the disembodied
voice suggested.

Paris did so, and noticed a face projecting from inside the unit onto
its focusing lens. "Barclay?! H--?"

Reginald Barclay of the Pathfinder Project of the future answered
back. ##Shhht. Not so loud. Somebody might hear you and call
for a couple of orderlies to haul you off to the psychiatric ward.## 

Paris snorted. "Why should I worry? You've experienced far more
time in a shrink's clutches than I."

It was Barclay's turn to stutter. ##How--?## he startled, thinking of his
barely cured holoaddiction problem. ##Never mind.##

Tom Paris got mad. "Yes, how! How the h*ll are you managing to even
reach me here in the past?" he said, tapping the camera's glass,
insistently impatient. "I thought there wasn't enough power in the whole
universe to push a communications squirt through warp space more than
a hundred light years let alone across a differentiating time continuum."

##You aren't really in your.. I mean my... true past. ##

"I'm not?" Tom gaped.

##No.. eh, It's really difficult to explain.##

Tom quailed and dropped his arms from his fiddling with the security camera
on its housing nestled between the ceiling and wall. "No..." he breathed out
in horror. "Not Q."

##Ah, happily no.## Reg said firmly, his transmitted fake camera eyes narrowing.
##But shush on that or we just might tempt the guy.## 

"Gotcha." Tom said firmly, setting hands on hips, still staring up into the camera.
"No omnipotence in action. Though I wish there was a healthy dose of some of that
going on right about now." he said, upending a small garbage can upside down
so he could step up and get a little closer to the image inside the camera's
lens.

It was Barclay's turn to quail. ##Not Chakotay... He's still dying..?##

"No, he's not." Paris snapped in irritation."A pair of human docs decided to open
him up and run a pair of fingers through his guts, looking for holes.  Then they did a 
lot of sewing with a needle and dead animal thread afterwards. He's gonna be fine." 
Paris said matter of factly, shielding his eyes from the bathroom lights glare so
he could see Barclay a little better.

##They...did...what?## It was the projected image's time to turn a little green.

"Reg..." he warned. "If you faint on me, I'm gonna--"

The image's face suddenly shook itself, like a dog shedding water. ##I'm okay,
I'm fine. Just grossed out. That's worse than spiders!## he squeaked.

"Reg!"

##Right. Paris, we haven't got much time. Now listen to me. The team can only
keep this artificial pinhole blackhole and our Argus Array emergency patch open for 
another forty seven seconds. We've already burned out the generator on an entire
moon getting out this far, er.. back then, er.. oh, you know what I mean!## he
said finally.

Tom shut up.

##Our problem is not just you two anymore. It involves more of your crewmen.##

"Huh?" Paris gaped.

##Voyager was destroyed in our mutual true timeline while distracting those two 
Borg Cubes from following your escape away from them in the shuttle.##

"What?!"

##It can be fixed. I have it on very good authority from someone really high up.## he
stuttered. ##So don't panic. Just listen. An escape pod containing two bridge crew
got to Earth, I mean, your Earth. They're searching for you now. I've given them
your coordinates. Uh, where are you going to be in five hours? I've got to update
them next. You've moved.##

"Uh,.. wow, uh...Station 51!" Tom improvised desperately, thinking fast. "In California. 
Uh,.. near a place called Rampart Hospital.... in .....Carson." he decided quickly. "Yeah, 
Carson. Says that right here on the hot air hand dryer's licensing sticker." he said looking
down. 

##Okay, I'll tell em. Just watch for another visitor from the hospital. He's coming to see you
in less than ten minutes!## Barclay began to shout as their tenuous connection began to fail. 

"Who survived the bridge crew?!" Tom shouted.

##We don't know. Just bear with us, we're working on this whole insane problem, top priori---##

The face on the camera suddenly sputtered and went out like a TV screen with
its power suddenly shorted out. The camera gave off a huge spark, making Paris
throw up his hands protectively over his face, and a puff of smoke. Its tiny overstressed little 
red power indicator light, burned out.

"Oh, man.. not now! Just when you wanted reach out and touch someone.." Paris grumbled,
slapping the camera alongside of its housing angrily.

Right then, the door opened. It was the orderly who had brought Chakotay
down to surgery from the Emergency Room. 

Tom Paris let go of the camera, jumped down from the upended garbage can, and
straightened his shirt out with all the dignity he could muster. "I hate the fact they
got one of these things inside the john." he huffed, nodding at the man as he
left the bathroom.

"I hear ya. Right with you man. Thanks for trashing the d*mn*d thing for me. I 
couldn't do it or they'd find out who did it." the big man grinned, offering a congratulatory 
hand.

Tom shook it and left, heading back to the observation deck.

When he got there, Roy wordlessly handed him back his half eaten sandwich, wrapped
in a napkin. "Feeling better?" he guessed incorrectly about the reason why Tom had fled
the surgical observatory.

"Much better." Paris said, with relish, accepting the food again and diving right into it 
hungrily.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

In surgery, Dr. Early turned away from his sutured patient and peeled off
his bloody gloves. "Sharon, do we have ortho coming down here to take
a look at this arm?" he said, pointed a touch guarded pinky at Chakotay's
humerus splint. 

"Yes. Xray's next. Circulation in that hand and all fingers are still normal,
doctor. We've been monitoring the patient's extremity pulse during this
whole procedure."

"I'll want a full skull series, a follow up abdominal flat plate, and laterals
for this fracture." Early requested, letting another nurse peel off his 
slightly bloodied gown. He turned a head towards the anesthesiologist.
"How's he doing, Brian?"

"Pressure's good, Joe. Bounded right back up to normal as soon as
you sealed off that hepatic vein tear. Pulse's 80. Respirations aren't
back yet though, he's still real sleepy from the juice." the masked man 
reported, still bagging Chakotay by hand through his taped ET tube 
around the respirator machine that hadn't triggered a release yet with an
inspiratory effort.

"Keep him under until ortho resets that break. If he's kept deep, his
muscles won't resist any of the resetting, being still relaxed." 

"My thoughts exactly. The less pain meds today, the better." 

Joe eyed up Dixie and Dr. Brackett, casually lingering in the hallway
outside of surgery, he pantomimed the phone with fingers spread
to his ear and mouth in a gesture right before he picked up the
white phone on the wall. 

Hurrying, Dr. Brackett, picked up the phone outside the scrubs only
area. "Joe?"

"Things looked real good, Kel. Just a small rupture on the liver that
didn't involve any of the ducts and another to a secondary vein."
Early told him.

"Good deal. What about the arm?"

"The same. Circulation's still unimpaired. The ortho's team is on the way 
in to re-evaluate and then fix it. My thinking is that the break is just
a simple humerus fracture without gross misalignment. I found no
pooling effects around the arm pit at all."

"And the head injury?"

"He's handling the anesthesia well. Pressure's steady. Oh, and Kel,
I took the liberty of ordering you a few films." Joe told him.

"No problem. You were in there." Kel replied. "What else did you
find?"

"Would you believe the internal organs of a twenty year old? That man's
in fantastic shape."

"The wonders of the military world never cease." Brackett chuckled.

"Come again?" Joe muttered, closing a finger to an ear to drown out
the sound of the crane and chains repositioning Chakotay's splinted 
shoulder to make him ready for the Xray machine.

"Never mind. When you get back out here. I'll personally buy you
a cup of coffee to celebrate." Brackett said. 

Early grinned. "Sounds terrific." and he hung up the phone.

Kel turned to Dixie. "Looks like he's heading for the floors in 
about half an hour."

"Outta sight. I'm sure Mr. Paris'll be ecstatic with the news." McCall
smiled. "Where is he by the way?"

"I don't know. He was here a minute ago with Roy."

"Hmmm." Dixie demurred, turning away to go back to work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, Joe Early entered the night quiet nurse's
lounge to meet Roy at a table full of unused coffee cups near a 
fresh burner warmed pot. The doctor was in a clean set of
surgical scrubs in case the ortho team needed him to assist.

DeSoto looked tired and his face was lined, but he was content. 
"How'd it go for Chakotay?"

"Textbook repair." Joe replied. "He'll have a full recovery I suspect.
The arm's nothing and that head laceration was just that."

Roy sucked in a breath and sighed. "That's a relief. It was touch
and go for a while there on the ground."

"Yeah, Kel told me about that. I wonder what he got himself 
into to have reacted so violently." Early wondered.

"Guess we'll never know." DeSoto blinked, slowly sipping his coffee.

"Where's his friend? Kel said he came in with one who made himself
known all over the treatment room. And the woods, in order to 
find you two." he meant of Johnny and Roy.

"Tom Paris?" Roy asked. "Oh, he went for a walk. Said he couldn't
stand waiting any longer." he grinned. "But I did manage to feed him."

"I could page him with the results." Early hinted. 

"Yeah, that'd be a very good idea, doc. Tom wasn't happy observing.
He left in a hurry right in the middle of it at one point."

"Queasiness?" Dr. Early wondered.

"That'd be my first guess judging how fast he bolted out of there." Roy 
replied, matter of factly.

"Okay, let's take some of the pressure off." and he got up from his chair
for the black wall phone. "Man's done a bang up job, keeping his
friend alive until we got to him. It's the least I can do."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage rubbed the spot on his arm where the nurse
had drawn three units of blood. Restless, and full of energy,
he tore off the bandaid and was shocked to not find a bruise there 
from the needle."Huh.. must have been one hell of a vein stick and
wrap job. I don't even feel tired." he muttered out loud. "It's like
I wasn't even stuck and drained in the first place." he grinned.
::Just glad I could help out the guy.:: he thought, of Chakotay as
he sipped orange juice in the waiting room.

Bored, and hungry, Johnny decided he'd wander the halls until
he found either Roy or Tom Paris. He set off for Dixie's desk
in order to call the station to fill them in on the events of their
last day of vacation. ::Cap's gonna shake his head when that
surprise rescue report comes in from L.A.:: he realized.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tom Paris, unerringly found his way back to the observation
room. Chakotay, was now bloodless on the outside and getting
a cast put on his arm and shoulder. ::Looks like that break's
as easy as I thought it was if it had to be there.:: Tom thought.

But he still got a chill seeing Chakotay's tubed mouth, taped shut
eyes and anesthetic pale lips. "Weird that they have to half kill
someone just to operate on them painlessly." he muttered out loud,
mad that Chakotay wasn't breathing without the aid of a hand bag
or respirator machine.

Then one of the ortho team looked up straight at him, meeting
him right in the eye.

A shock travelled right up Tom's back and up his spine. He
knew those bushy white eyebrows. ::Tell me I'm hallucinating.
This is craziness. I'm seeing people from back home.:: Then
he remembered Barclay's future warning about a visitor
and went running to the floor below to get closer to the 
familiar stranger he had seen.

The tiny blue scrub garbed and surgery masked man quietly maneuvered 
around the working doctors and nurses surrounding Chakotay
and left the operating room, butt backwards in a sterile hand guard.

Soon, he stood calmly outside the hallway doors near a water fountain
and patiently waited for Tom Paris to find him as he peeled off his
mask and took a drink.

Tom skidded, breathless, around the corner, his knapsack in tow.

"About time you got here." grumbled the smaller white haired blue
surgery capped old man to Paris as he straightened up.

"Boothby?!"

"Yes. In the flesh. Now calm down before you attract too much attention
Lt. Paris. You're making a downright spectacle of yourself." Boothby chided
his assigned charge as he led him over to the surgical assignment board
to figure out where Chakotay was going to go following his repair work.

Tom Paris stopped gaping, and started studying the board along with Boothby
to play along, but he was only starting to soak it all in. "How'd y-- 
Were you in there the whole time Chakotay was being operated on?"

"Of course I was, son. How do you expect me to act when a pair of Federation
crewmembers end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't hard
finding you two, seeing that I was never not here in the first place to begin with."
said the gravelly voiced, Starfleet Academy flower gardener. "I can be unnoticed
when I want to be."

Tom slumped against the wall, making a doubletake face as if Boothby suddenly
sprouted a third eyeball right in the middle of his forehead. "Come again?"

"Oh, don't be so daft, crewman. You know I'm not human. I'm El Aurien, just
like Captain Picard's Guinan on the U.S.S. Starship Enterprise D."

Tom just stared. But then his analytical, nit picking side came to the foreground.
"I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure to meet either of them yet."

"Huh, your loss. Too bad."
Boothby's eyes just twinkled and he cast a look back towards the surgery doors.
"I'm just glad your commander's going to pull through. He's got some serious time
to spend with a very unique gal we both know and love in a silver suit and
that, will make all the difference in the world in the end for everybody in YOUR world." 
he winked.

It was Tom's turn to chuckle."Oh, come on. Chakotay's not interested in Seven
of Nine. They barely even report in to each other even on Janeway's orders." he
scoffed in jest.

"As you say." Boothby smiled, a knowing smile. "I know what might happen with
non-command cadets and crewman, just as well as I do those soon to be on the 
command track."

Tom's grin wilted and he got mad."Chakotay'd be the first to tell you he's nobody special.
He's just trying to do the right thing."

"Nail on the head, son. That's what I really like about you." Boothby laughed with his teeth.
"You're just like your father."

The light bulb flashed behind Tom's eyes and his face enlightened with realization.
"Whom you watched and picked as a special just like you did Janeway, through
the flower beds.." Tom guessed.

"Yep. Though you aren't one of my precious roses I'm sorry to say."

Tom sighed and dropped his head in sudden weariness. "So what now? We're trapped
here with no way out until we meet the others Barclay told me about."

"Ah, Project Pathfinder's really starting to get her legs now. Warms an old alien's heart right up." 
Boothby said. "Tom Paris, I may be long enough lived to be at two places in history, but I'm
also a Listener. I suggest we go up on the roof and do some Listening. Things aren't
as they seem to be in the local neighborhood." Boothby said.

"Huh?"

"Follow me up there, and I'll show you exactly what I mean." the short fit old man gestured.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tom Paris's eyes widened at the blue glowing suburban streetlit panorama, surrounding
Rampart Hospital. The moon was out, and it was almost full in the twentieth century pollution
hazy sky. He sneezed at the smog he could smell. "Okay, that's not so nice a view."
he remarked, wiping his nose on a sleeve.

Boothby just ignored Tom's sarcasm and pointed up. "Look at the sky, what do
you see?"

"Very familiar and sorely loved constellations I haven't seen since Voyager was
lost, are you happy now?" Paris said angrily, not obeying.

"Pay attention, son. This is vital. What exactly.. is that?" he asked, stabbing a finger due
north and east, at a level nearest the horizon.

Tom's navigator instincts immediately spotted the anomaly. "No," he breathed out loud
in shock. "That's not.. Oh, no. Boothby, tell me that it isn't."

"It is. That's Halley's comet. Same one that gave you that wormhole so you could escape
the Borg."

"But it's way too early. In history, Halley's comet wasn't due back in until the middle eighties
early spring sometime, for this part of the U.S. It is 1976, right?"

"By all official reckoning in my mind, it is."

Tom set his hands on his hips. "Okay, what's going on here."

"A time pocket. Just the size of this main city metropolis. Maybe a little bigger into
the mountains surrounding the woods near where the two of you crashed. I checked."

"Aren't they aware of anything unusual? That comet's really hard to miss."
Tom said exasperated.

"Nope. Not at all. They are indigenous here and so they are effected. But I'm afraid it's
much worse than just a little starlight mis-refraction from the heavens, Tom. The laws
of physics inside this bubble of space time have changed."

"I don't like the sound of that, Boothby." Paris asked, a little fearfully. "Tell me what
I don't want to hear."

"Well, for starters, natural fire isn't so natural anymore in some places where it gets
unintentionally ignited. That's the first thing I've noticed." Boothby said. "Lightning's
fine, so's the BBQ and the gas stove cooking fire. But my guess is that any electrical fire will 
be pure plasma. Green and all consuming. Once it starts, it'll keep on spreading 
and I sincerely believe there's nothing inside this time pocket of ours that'll be able to 
put it out again." Boothby said ominously.

"Oh, sh*t. That's great. Are we responsible for these changes?" Tom asked about
Chakotay and his shuttle accident.

"For once, no." Boothby told him. "The Borg were unintentionally responsible.
Somehow, when Voyager destroyed those two Borg Cubes their annihilation backlash 
was augmented and sent through the wormhole behind Halley's Comet with you
and that is what warped the space time fabric a little off the normal flat in this
local area. I'm hoping the effects are temporary and will wear off naturally over
time returning the city and its surroundings back into our, er.. your normal timestream
of the past."

"Barclay said I wasn't on my Earth of the past."

"For all practical sense and purposes, you aren't. Everyone's living in a side echo of
the real 1976. Some natural laws are distorted here, just like the soundwaves 
of an echo."

"The stars' untrue reflections, Halley's future tail echo that nobody thinks unusual. And electricity... 
Oh, Boothby. What would happen if the hospital were to try using anything directly electrical to 
treat someone?"

"How so?"

"They have devices for cardioversion that uses watt power. I saw one in the rescue 
helicopter. They thought they were going to have to use one on Chakotay when we
first took off from that forest. What did they call the thing? A defibrillator. That's it."

"Hmm, I don't really know, Mr. Paris. That's one thing I haven't had a chance to observe
yet in action for its potential effects."

Tom went silent with horror.::I'm not even going to go there:: he thought, thinking of 
the consequences if the bad dice should roll.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Okay readers, yes, this is a little weird, but it's Star Trek so hey, I'm following the flow.
Nothing's preplanned here. It's all improv and pure seat of the pants. It'll work out like the rest
of the stories on the site. I'm trusting my brain to pretzel things believably and successfully
together eventually. And non Star Trek fans, yes, scripts are sometimes bizarre like this on those
TV shows.)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"First things first, we rendevous with the away team coming to get you." Boothby 
told him, dragging him towards the stair access that ran off the roof. "Where will
that be?"

"Station 51. That's what I told Barclay's hologram."

"Good enough. And good placement. If one of those plasma fires gets started somehow,
you'll be the first one of our company to know."

"Wait a minute, Boothby. If somebody were to die in one of those plasma fires inside of this
time pocket--..." he began.

"..then they're gone from real time/space, too. Nothing is more destructive than that 
kind of raw energy. It transcends time." the wise alien surmised.

"...the heart of a star." Paris said.

"Or a comet.." Boothby remarked. "Come on, maybe they've transferred Chakotay to
recovery by now. I don't want to leave him alone for long with these primitives."

"Oh, they're not so bad. Just human without all the bells and whistles of home."
Paris smiled as best as he could.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto was on the phone with Hank Stanley. "Yeah, Cap. It was
a pretty straight forward wilderness rescue. Shouldn't be any inquiries
coming at all. The man's doing fine. Isn't it great that we can practice
off duty now?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear at Cap's enthusiastic sarcasm 
about more paperwork. ##Isn't it great that we don't get paid for
doing it? Not!## Then Cap sighed. ##Okay, all right. I'm over it. When
are you and Gage coming to pick up the rover? One of the Sierra guys
drove it into the yard fifteen minutes ago for ya, from camp, all packed up.##

"They broke down our camp for us? That was nice. We owe them."

##No, you owe them. The fire department doesn't do good will supply trade on
off duty incidents. How's your victim doing by the way? I just heard the transcript.##

"Recovering. Surgery went very slick from what I could gather. His friend was 
really happy about that. Say listen, Cap. Would it be possible to
put him up for the rest of the night in the camper out back? He lost everything
while lugging his friend to help."

##Well, I don't know.## Hank sighed.

"He won't be in the station and it's just until daylight, when he can call his
superiors for a ride home."

##Do you trust him?##

"About as much as I can trust anybody I've only known for two days. He's navy 
or military at the very least." DeSoto admitted.

##Okay, I'll vouch for that. But he's gone by lunchtime. The fire station is county 
property and I'm stretching the rules a bit here.## Cap told Roy.

"Thanks, Cap. He's really tired. We'll take care of him for ya."

## You sure bet you are. The station's not the resident community shelter. Any
food he eats. You buy.##

Roy hung up the phone, pleased with himself.

Dixie started smiling. "What?"

"That was easier than getting a stray dog to stay at the station." Roy told her.

"Don't tell me.You and Gage are going to look after Mr. Military Worrywart."

"At the very least. Maybe Tom could stay at Gage's once we wear out Cap's
welcome at the station. It's just until their bosses can come and get them
officially. They're not from around here."

"What sweet guys, you two." Dixie cooed.

"Takes one to know one." Roy countered.

"I'm not a guy." McCall joked.

"No, but you are all sugar when it comes to caring for people."

"Thanks. But the trait's mutual I'll have you know."

Right then, Johnny Gage came whistling down the hall. "There you 
are, Roy. Been looking all over for you. What's up?"

"The camper's up. For Tom Paris. Cap okayed an overnight."
DeSoto told him.

"But we have to go back and get our stuff." Johnny frowned.

"No we don't. The Sierra guys brought everything back for us.
Cap says the packed Rover's sitting in the yard already."

"What decent guys." Gage grinned. "Guess we owe em."

"That's what I think." Roy said.

"Okay, bunch of tickets for the game next month. Sound good?"
Johnny asked.

"Yep."

Dixie's phone rang. "Rampart Emergency, Nurse Dixie McCall."
She nodded. "I'll tell them." And then she hung up the phone.

"That was Dr. Early. Chakotay's awake and being transferred to
ICU for the night for monitoring. He's doing well, only an NG tube 
in."

"No kidding? He must work out." Johnny.

"There wasn't much to repair." Dixie shrugged. 

Right then, Tom Paris came around the corner, looking more
frazzled then what the Rampart friends already knew was
customary. They didn't seem to notice the man pacing next to 
him wearing surgical blue.

"I'll be in touch by payphone." Boothby told Paris.

"Thanks. For helping us out."

"It's my job, young man. Now go take care of the Prime Directive like
a good little Starfleet Federation boy." said the white haired not quite 
a man, heading for an elevator.

Dixie spoke up. "Chakotay's awake and being settled in his room, Tom."

"Yeah, I know." Paris said distractedly, eyeing up all the security cameras
as if looking for something as he joined them and accepted a cup of coffee
from the blond haired nurse. "Thanks." he said, leaning on the desk.

Dixie frowned. "How'd you know? We were just told." she said, indicating
the phone.

"I recognized some of Chakotay's ortho team already out and about on
your ER floor here. They're chitchatting and it's not about business so I 
figured they were done with Chakotay already." Paris said smoothly.

McCall relaxed. "You guessed right."

"Want to go see Chakotay? Visiting hours aren't quite over yet." Roy
suggested to Paris.

"Best thing I've heard all evening." he said seriously.

"Okay, I'm coming too." Gage said.

"Room 347." Dixie offered after looking at a chart Dr. Brackett had
left behind for her to update.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Chakotay?" Tom Paris said, slowly peeking into the door of
his commander's patient room.

Roy and Johnny hadn't yet joined him for the visit, claiming
they had to check on some paperwork to resupply their
off duty first aid kit before they forgot.

Drowsy breathing met Tom's ears. But two glitters right
where eyes should be on a soft pillow suddenly appeared
in the beam of light from the hallway.

Walking softly, relieved to see consciousness, Tom pulled on
the string over Chakotay's bed to activate its night light.

"Hmmph.." Chakotay protested with a moan.

"Sorry. Want me to turn this light back off again?" Paris asked him.

"It's... okay. I just have some nasty side effects I'm dealing with
from the anesthetic and other things their doctors gave me." Then he 
burped. Loud and long."Oh, that feels so much better."

Tom chuckled. "Don't tell me they got air in your stomach ventilating
you."

"A little. But I remember the gal in Recovery who did it was very cute." 
Chakotay joked. Then he laughed, which immediately turned into 
a groan of pain at his incision site. He moved both hands over the
dressing carefully, splinting it with his fingers and lower arms.

"Ooo. Here." Tom offered, grabbing a pillow from a nearby bedstand
and offering it to Chakotay. "Hug this and press down if you're going to
laugh at our predicament. You're gonna need to even more when 
you hear the rest of it. You'll never guess who's here. Come on, take 
a stab at it."

"Don't make me guess. I'm a sick man." Chakotay smiled, knowing
that at least some of it would be good news.

"You're not sick. You're hurt. Big difference." Tom scoffed. "Anyways.
It's Boothby."

"Boothby? He's here with us? In the past?"

"Turns out he's very long lived, Chakotay, a regular Rumplestiltskin type.
With a few frills. And I wouldn't put the Nexus as a surfboard idea past 
him. He's a Listener."

"Like Guinan?" Chakotay sat up gingerly, very interested.

"Don't tell me you've heard of her. Why am I the only active duty crewman
in Starfleet who hasn't?"

"You only frequent French pool halls, not bars, Tom, that's why. Guinan's
strictly a starship barkeep."

"Sorry I hate synthehol." Tom snorted. "I prefer realism in my drink."

"But pure fantasy on the holodeck eh?" the commander grinned. Then
Chakotay closed his eyes, his mouth working unpleasantly. He 
motioned for the puke basin with fast groping fingers.

Tom flailed around the ample nursing supplies around Chakotay's bed until
he found one. "Here.. Easy..." he said holding one up to Chakotay's mouth
while he supported his head. "Don't think you got anything left to come up 
anymore. Ride it out. These are probably just dry heaves."

That fact turned out to be true and the nausea soon subsided a minute later.

"Oh.." Chakotay gasped as he laid back down again. "You don't happen to
have that hypospray still handy, do you?"

"It's near empty." Tom told him. Then he blinked. "Wait a minute, how did you 
know I got you with a Borg cure on the sly?"

"I didn't. You just told me." Chakotay said tightly. 

The temperature in the room fell ten degrees.

Tom blushed red to his very toes. 

"What exactly happened out there while I was unconscious?" Chakotay ordered.
"Leave anything out and I'll make you eat my bedpan, lieutenant." he growled, 
hefting up a silver, brightly polished, chrome steel one.

Tom was cowed for a second, but then his eyes bugged out as he let loose a fit
of laughter at the archiac thing brandished between them like a frying pan.
Paris threw on a very bad Cogney accent. "Can I offer ye the royal chamber pot,
milord? Had the maid rose wash it thrice just for yer lordship's pleasure."

Chakotay dropped the pan on his tablestand with a hurried clunk as he braced 
himself against a sudden fit of eruptive giggles with Tom's hastily offered pillow. 
"I'm gonna kill you.." he chuckled. "Owww! Just gimme another cure shot or 
something. I know those numb up the guts real good, firsthand." he laughed 
breathlessly, lost in drug and pain induced humor.

"No way." Tom said, pulling away his knapsack protectively. "Those d*mned 
nanoprobes might fix your alien sutures by eliminating them completely. 
Then where would we be? Back to square one with you bleeding out again 
like a stuck pig."

"Pilot turned medic. Think you know everything there is to know about sickbay, 
huh?" Chakotay grinned, but finally agreeing to abstain from home's remedy.

"More than you, that's for sure. You are a little high, aren't you? Rage
to helpless mirth button active in seconds?" Paris analyzed, cheeky.

"Tom.." Chakotay barked, impatient. Then he laughed again, mad/amused.

"Okay, in a nutshell, commander." Tom said seriously. "Ready?"

"Yes." Chakotay said, hugging careful arms around his abdominal pillow.

As an added measure, Tom pressed a hand over Chakotay's stomach
through the pillow, too, before he spoke. "I melted the ship, Gage almost
became a Borg, Halley's Comet is an early show by at least ten years,
everything Einstein taught is proving to be absolutely wrong here, 
and two of the bridge crew are gonna drop in to see us any hour 
now because a holographic simulation of Pathfinder's Lt. Barclay, 
told me so. How do you like them apples?" he asked, biting his lip.

"Uh.. The melting the ship part's all right. And the bit about two from Voyager
arriving." Chakotay said foggily. "But as for the rest? Let's see. I hate it?
Yeah, I really think I hate it." he demurred, sleepily.

"Thought you might say that. Well, at least I came clean with ya." he said,
waving there you go fingers in Chakotay's direction. "With the whole truth
as.. as... far as I know it." he said, releasing his hand from the pillow. 

"Good boy." Chakotay peeped, his eyes mere cracks. Then he began
to snore around his nasogastric tube.

Smiling, Tom checked the flow of his I.V. and watched the EKG monitor
a while.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage entered the room softly, about ten 
minutes later. 

"How's he doing?" Johnny said in a whisper, his fingers automatically 
finding the radial pulse on one of Chakotay's wrists subconsciously.

Tom noticed, and nodded. "Napping for the most part."

Roy read the chart at the foot of Chakotay's bed. "Smooth wakeup
so far." he remarked at the vital signs written there. 

"Yeah. He was awake a few minutes ago."

"It says here that upper arm's gonna be fine. It was just a simple 
break calling for only a standard cast job. No pins." DeSoto read a 
little further.
 
Tom sighed. "Got the book." he said, gripping a copy of Chakotay's
records. "I filled him in on how he got here. But, I didn't tell him that I 
haven't figured out where I'm going to stay the next few days until he 
heals enough for discharge. I can't see Dixie letting me camp out here 
at Rampart indefinitely." he said, glancing about the hospital room.

"Johnny and I fixed your little housing problem. At least, for the night." 
Roy said.

"Oh?" Tom was surprised and appreciative.

"We'll bring you back to our fire station to sack out in our public event 
camper. It's got a shower, a washer/dryer, its own stove, and even a 
color TV set."

"Thanks. You guys didn't have to do that." Tom whispered as Chakotay 
shifted over onto his unstitched side, in a drug induced sleep.

"Already done." Gage grinned and stage whispered right back. "We'll 
spot you some dinner supplies. You can work that off by hanging some 
hose tomorrow morning if we don't get any runs."

"Huh?" Paris said, looking up from Chakotay's sleeping face.

Roy just smiled and tapped the EKG monitor to a nonaudible mode.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the middle of the night, Chakotay startled awake at the sight of
a face hanging over his bed. Then he smiled with recognition.
"Oh, it's the Recovery Room girl." he teased.

"Nice to finally hear a voice to go along with these clear breathing 
lungs, Chakotay." said Sharon Walters, smiling as she hung a 
stethoscope back around her neck. "How's your tummy doing? 
Think you need more morphine medicine?" she crooned.

"Don't tell me, you work in pediatrics." Chakotay grinned at her
expansively, sitting up and nodding congenially.

"Just started, how'd you guess?" Sharon asked, genuinely surprised.

"Your.... smock! You still have a dinosaur sticker on your pocket."
he lied. "My liver's okay, ma'am. Now that it's in one piece." he 
admitted. "About the shot? Nah. I think I'm fine. I had some nausea 
earlier, but that's gone." he told her.

"That was from all the blood you swallowed from a cut tongue
we found once we intubated you." she explained.

"I cut my tongue?" Chakotay said, probing a finger around his mouth
experimentally.

Sharon pulled his hand away. "Don't touch, you'll infect it." she
said. "It's on the left side if you're curious." Then Nurse Walters busied 
herself pouring some hydrogen peroxide mint rinse into a metal basin. 
"Speaking of which, it's time for a little oral hygiene so you'll be presentable 
for guests. Can't have anesthesia breath wafting about the room. 
That'd be rude." she emphasized, passionately amicable.

Chakotay chuckled, making sure he hugged his pillow. "You're too late,
they've already come and gone. Can't odor horrify my three. They're all
paramedics. Tom went off with Roy and Johnny I suspect, to get some sleep."

"He did. But please. For me. That tongue gouge really needs some antiseptic." 
Miss Walters dangled, pouring her concoction into a glass for Chakotay to 
use as a mouth rinse. She passed him the glass and an emesis basin to 
use. Then she checked the suction pressure on the NG tube keeping 
Chakotay's stomach free of acid buildup.

"Oh, that's the real reason? Okay, I promise." the commander chuckled.
  
"Oh, yes. I almost forgot. Mr. Paris told me to tell you sweet dreams, Mr. 
Chakotay. And he told me I had to do this." She bent down and kissed him
lightly on the cheek.

Chakotay immediately blushed.
"Gee. That's so like him. He's such a kidder." the commander smiled, 
embarrassed, touching his flaming face. ::I'm gonna kill him!:: his
brain declared.

"Really? He seems so nice."

::That's an act.:: Chakotay thought quickly, unbidden. "He can be
when he wants to." he said out loud. ::Rarely.::

Sharon sighed, marking down the contents volume on the 
collection cylinder before she took it away to clean out. "Oh.
I guess I don't know him well enough yet to decide for myself.
We have a date tomorrow."

"No-you-don't. ..Uh, ah, I mean, you do?" Chakotay asked,
hiding his shock and anger at the depth level with which 
Tom was mingling with the locals.

"Oh, nothing really serious, sir. Just a chat over coffee.
'About the weather and this and that.' he said."

"I see."  ::That's better.:: "I.....hope you two enjoy yourselves."
Chakotay felt his face sag with weariness when he remembered
Tom's earlier confession.  "Tell me, Miss......" he fished.

"...Walters, Sharon Walters." she replied from where she was
working in the bathroom.

"Miss Walters. Has everything been... all right in the city? I mean
nothing happening beyond the usual?" he hinted, staring at the 
glass full of swirling mouthwash that he was holding in his free hand.

"Same busy night as always in the ER I'm happy to say. Is that unusual?"
she said, returning with a new suction cylinder to place inside of its holder 
on the wall. 

"No. no. no. Just....wondering." Chakotay grinned. He was glad there weren't 
any bizarre occurrences going on.  ::Yet.:: his conscience prickled annoyingly.

"Oh. Okay. Want the TV on? I'm sure if something weird happens, the 
news'll catch it first." she suggested.

"That'd be fine, Sharon. Thanks." ::Great idea! I forgot about television.::
Chakotay thought happily.

"No problem." she said, finishing up a set of vital signs on him. Once they
were taken, she made her way over to the door after flicking a channel on.
"That one okay?" she asked, passing him the wired in remote.

"Good as any I guess. It's...uh, five." Chakotay shrugged, quickly reading off 
the number chosen on the manual dial to cover himself neatly. He winced 
when the motion pulled on his newly set broken arm. 

"You sure you don't want another injection?" she asked again. "Dr. Brackett 
okayed more if your discomfort's still too much."

"I want to be clear headed for now, because it looks like I've actually got a new 
newspaper to read?" he said, just discovering one that had a posted note on it from 
Boothby. 'Page Three B' it said. It immediately grabbed his attention.

"Yeah. Funny that. It wasn't there two hours ago."
Sharon blinked her mascara thick, smiling doe eyes at him.
"Just buzz the nurses station if you need anything. After we start you on
oral clears next hour, we'll be emptying your catheter bag." she said cheerfully.

Then she left.

"Catheter bag?" Chakotay frowned. A sudden horrible realization made him
lift up his blankets to take a look underneath. "OOoo.." he grimaced at what
he saw. Both the stitches and.. "More personal plumbing." he said, quickly 
lowering them again. "At least I can't feel that." he remarked with relief.

Chakotay took in a deep breath. "Okay, looking at the news from Boothby." 
he sighed, rubbing his face around the NG tube to get his mind off the
two areas effected below his waist level.

Wetting his tube sore throat lightly with a sip of water, Chakotay pulled 
himself together mentally and took care of promised business with the tooth 
sponge and the mouthwash. Then he picked up a mysterious envelope 
Boothby had left next to the sticky posted-note tagged newspaper that Sharon
couldn't and didn't notice, and opened it.

         'Chakotay. Don't worry about being Frankenstein caught in that web of tubes. 
         You won't be for long. I'll tweak a few things that will enable your away 
         team to reinitialize your emergency medical hologram.'

Chakotay's eyebrows went up. ::Tom's got the EMH's autonomous mobile 
emitter on him? Terrific.:: he thought, celebrating with happy fingers drumming 
on his bedside table. ::That'll cut my healing time to mere seconds.:: he beamed
in his mind.

Giggling, he smoothed out the crinkle rustled letter and began to read again. His new
smile, so quickly won, died.

       'Things are bad, Commander. Real bad. This whole region around Los Angeles is
        highly prone to raw plasma pocket extrusions, ignited by uncontrolled electricity. 
        I've spotted no telltale ruptures anywhere as yet, but you and I both know that it's 
        only a matter of time before one or more of these exo-energy fires starts. 
        Nothing I've discovered in this time echo of ours so far, will be able to put one out.
        Humans from this era simply have no means to erect a deflector shield powerful 
        enough to snuff one out inside a perfect vacuum.'

Chakotay grumbled. "What do you mean deflector shields? They haven't even
come up with warp technology yet, Boothby." he said to himself. "  'If they can
build shields..', isn't even part of the equation!" he said, exasperated.

       'The most dire situation shared and aside, I found an additional bit of disturbing 
        information. See the newsie.  P.S. Dispose of this letter in water. It will dissolve.
        And don't worry. It's not poisonous. You can drink it afterwards.
                
                                  Ever the dirtless digger, Boothby.'

Chakotay hrrumphed at the signoff and did the deed, watching as the letter
fizzled away to nothing in a bedside pitcher of....::Aldeberan Nebula flowers?!:: he
startled. Squinting, he saw the holonote on them which read. "Get well soon.
Love, Project Pathfinder."  As soon as he tried to touch one of them, the hologram of
blooms died away into oblivion, becoming the yellow mums from Tom that they really 
were.  ::Huh.:: he chuckled, finally smiling again. ::Now that was clever.:: he thought,
seeing a sudden odd light burn out inside the visual only camera lens keeping tabs 
on him in his own ICU bed. ::But, getting stuck in a hospital four hundred years into 
the past is still just as bad as being stuck in sickbay on Voyager.:: he decided.

Restless, but encouraged, Chakotay contented himself with surfing through the 
TV channels. He got hooked on a show called Lost In Space in about thirty seconds.

He completely forgot about the newspaper he was clutching in his hands.
When it fell, lax, out of his fingers onto his lap, page 3B was exposed.

On it in bold headlines, was an old man of about seventy or so, yelling
and raining spittle, at his target, a reporter, in front of an antique fire museum.  

If Chakotay had actually looked at this hastily Boothby pen circled
face, he would have seen that the crazed old senior was actually.... Roy DeSoto. 

A crooked ink arrow also ran up to part of the date in the corner of the newspaper. 

The year, was still 1976. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the station, it was midnight. The gang was awake. Although no one
would actively admit it, their sleep had been disturbed because Roy
and Johnny hadn't been there for A shift's start. There had been only 
the two from 99's as firefighter substitutes instead. Now, they were 
subconsciously rebonding.

Together again around the kitchen table, platters were passed around.
And boy, were they hungry. 

Mike Stoker stuffed another bologna sandwich into his mouth.
"Man, this is good." he remarked.

"Yeah, better than cafeteria food." Gage guffawed.

"Missed your cooking rotation did ya?" Chet egged on Johnny. "Let me
tell you, Gage. Hotdogs just didn't do Monday night dinner justice. We
were all looking forward to that new meatfloaf recipe you promised to
make."

This time, even Roy became exasperated. He cut off Johnny, before
the skinny paramedic could open his food chipmunk cheeked mouth
to complain. "Kelly. Now, knock it off. We had an emergency up there.
A wounded guy and his buddy who really needed us."

"The curse of the Squad 51 vacation time strikes again." Chet snorted. 

Hank held up a hand. His other one contained a fingerful of cold french 
fries. "Hey." he warned Chet, not chewing. "They did the decent thing 
afterwards and made sure the guy's friend was okay, by letting him 
watch the surgery, then letting him crash at our place." Cap reasoned, 
hooking a thumb at the back lot where the dark camper was barely 
visible through the blue street lit filled window.

"That was only after you got used to the idea of a sleepover." Gage
grumbled.

"I finally did it, didn't I?" Cap rounded on Gage.

Marco held up his hands, stained with taco sauce. "Fellas, fellas, truce."
he pantomimed a timeout. "We're only cranky because we're starving."

"We're always starving." Kelly chuckled, finishing off his second sandwich.
"If you doubt that, just look at the frig."

"I replaced what we gave Tom Paris tonight." Johnny defended.

Kelly tipped his head marginally. "True. I'll give you that. But this
is gas station lunch meat, not deli."

"They were closed." Gage glared.

Mike Stoker decided to end the war by changing the subject. "Say, Roy.
How'd Joanne and the kids take the news that Daddy was a hero again?"

"Same as always. They took it for granted by not praising me to death."
Roy smiled.

"Too bad." Kelly said. 

Gage smacked Chet's arm.

Boot woofed from his spot under the table.

"Oh, sorry, Boot. Here ya go." Johnny said in a whisper around the 
mayonnaise jar, sneaking the shaggy dog a slice of bolonga.

Cap sniffed, cleared his throat at everybody, and did the same action, 
openly. "Can't be too bad for him like the vet says. He goes on rescues 
with us all the time." he reasoned, letting the others off the hook.

"We sure could've used Boot to find that ranger station yesterday." DeSoto
said. 

"Why? Were you lost?" Mike asked.

"No, Tom and his friend were, most likely. Johnny and I think they were a little
disoriented after the crash." Roy explained.

"They sure were acting weird." Johnny guffawed.

"Weird?" Chet asked.

"Yeah. All secret and suspicious, holding back you know, like military guys 
sometimes do when they're active duty." Gage said.

"And you let this guy into our yard?" Chet wanted to know.

"Well, yeah. They passed a background check when they joined up, didn't they?" 
Gage told him. "Paris didn't have any place to stay. No money?" he gloated. 
"Roy and I even bought the flowers Tom wanted to give his friend Chakotay
to make him feel better faster. I gave him my blood." he finished, ticking off
that accomplishment on a finger in irritation.

Kelly inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I'll admit, that was decent of ya."

"That's what Dixie told us, with a wink." Gage told Chet, still glaring at him.

"All right already, Uncle.." Kelly bellied up.

A few minutes were filled with the sounds of eating. Soon they were all
genuinely happy again.

Roy chuckled. "He really does sound like us."

"Huh?" Johnny grunted.

"What we do when either of us is laid up in the hospital." DeSoto said,
passing a hand back and forth between himself and his paramedic
partner. "Fussing over the laid up one."

"Oh, yeah. Tom does." Gage admitted, still engrossed in building a monster
stack sandwich. "But he's so nervous. Kinda makes me doubt that he's
on a legit military mission like he told us."

Chet immediately stole it when he was done. Rather than create a stink,
Gage let him have it and he started building a new one, this time safely 
out of arm's reach.

Roy commented. "Yeah, I got the same feeling, Johnny. But the vibes I get,
about those two, aren't bad ones regardless."

"I wish we'd never met them." Gage told him honestly. "Something about
Chakotay is just a little bit too familiar to me."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside the camper, the exterior pay phone hanging on the side of
station 51, rang.

Tom Paris scrambled out of the sheet he found himself wrapped up
in, and promptly fell the distance from the loft over the driver's seat,
to the floor.
 
Cursing in Klingon, he kicked off the sheets and stumbled outside
to grab the receiver as fast as he could before the firefighters on
the other side of the bunkroom window would hear. Tom sighed
in relief when he saw the glow of lights in the kitchen and the sounds
of active eating. He had lucked out.

"Tom here." he said cautiously into the phone.

##Paris, it's me. Got a mission for ya. Grab today's newspaper pronto!##
Boothby ordered him.

"Just where do you expect me to scrounge up one at this hour of the night?
The garbage can?"

##Actually, yes. Hop to.##

Tom's mouth actually flopped open, first in shock, then in disgust.
"Okay, hang on." and he let go, hanging the phone down on its steel coil 
cord carefully.  Grumbling and shivering in the California cold, Tom snuck 
a little farther down the wall to a row of garbage bins next to the hose tower. 
The first one, was medical waste.

"Eeeooww." he grunted, not searching that one.

Woof! came a muffled bark. 

Tom froze. But then he realized the fire station dog was actually begging,
still safely in the kitchen, along with the rest of the firemen.

Moving on down the line, Paris finally found the paper bin and a week's worth
of newsies, neatly piled. He grabbed out the whole stack.

"Okay, what am I looking for?" Tom whispered at Boothby when he
got back with his armful.

##Today's paper. The Carson Sentinel. June 12th, 1976. I want you to
take a look at page 3B.## 

Paris ruffled through the sections one by one, reading off the dates
quickly by bright, blue street light. "No.. nope.. no...." he ticked off.
Suddenly he was at the bottom with no dice. "Boothby. It's not here."

##What?##

"That paper.. It's not here." Tom told him again. 

##Oh, wonderful. You need to see what I see, Lieutenant. I can't
just tell you, you'll never believe me.## Boothby said.

"Wait a minute, Okay, uh.. I know why it isn't here. They're firefighters,
right? Always taking calls and going on runs.." he thought out.
"What's the one thing you wanna do when you aren't doing what you're
paid to do?" he asked hypothetically.

##Escape from it all.## Boothby replied. ##Intense occupations always
elicit that response no matter the species.## the alien said.

"Right. That paper must be inside the station still. And in use."

##You have to get it.##

"How? I'm not allowed inside. They explained that to me very clearly. 
Something about county regulations and no overnight guests."

##Think Paris, this is critically important.## Boothby groused.

"Okay, okay. I'm thinking. Uhhh." Then he remembered. "I've got a dog
whistle!"

##Huh?##

"In this housing unit I've been put up in. Something called a camper. 
Looks like they've used it to quiet down strays. There's dog hair 
everywhere. Showed up on my tricorder scan earlier. I can get the one 
that's inside now, to go fetch!" Tom said.

##Oh, lieutenant. Hope that works. I can't get over there just now with
a new newspaper. I'm currently tied up in a fragile communication 
with Project Pathfinder through my office security camera.##

"Tell Barclay to get his *ss in gear to get that away team here!"

##Watch the mouth, mister. I won't tolerate other species profanity.##
Boothby told him.

"Sorry. Just a little worked up here. They gave me something called
Mountain Dew a few hours ago." Paris said.

##Get to work.## Boothby ordered.  ##I'll be in touch.## *Click.*

"Right." Tom said, almost saluting for real. He hung up the phone
and practically levitated up the strange camper's steps for the
tiny frig in the kitchenette area.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
 
Boothby turned back to the hospital's camera in his borrowed
doctor's office. "Okay, Barclay. I've done my part. What did you
find in the human records?"

The hologram fidgeted as it paced back in forth inside
of the camera lens. ##Our situation just became a little more urgent 
I'm afraid. One of the humans trapped in that time echo along with
Tom Paris and Chakotay is also a down the line direct descendant
of one of our people.##

"What?! Which one?" asked the wizened caretaker alien.

##We don't know that yet. All we know is that when that person 
became trapped inside the echo along with our people, something 
will happen there that he or she doesn't survive, and our real timeline 
changes in 1976. All the temporal fluctuations we've been reading 
through the Halley's Comet wormhole, originate from right then.##

"What was the event that was the first real changed point according to
your scientists at the Project?" asked Boothby.

##Voyager being destroyed. This followed by the obvious corollary that
Voyager will never ever get a chance to keep trying to get back home 
to Earth.## Reginald replied with certainty.

"Oo, sticky."
Boothby moved closer to the hologram he could see in his camera 
lens. "Okay, direct descendant. A clue. Should be easy to figure out
which one. There's only five point seven million people needing
to be scanned by tricorder in this city of theirs." he said sarcastically.

##Piece of cake for a starship shuttle.## Reg reasoned.

"Reg, I told you that Tom Paris destroyed their shuttle! To preserve
the Prime Directive. He had to keep twentieth century humans
from discovering or using twenty fourth century technology."

##Oh, that is a bit of a problem.##

But Boothby was no longer listening.
"Unless....., we can modify the arriving away team's escape pod's 
computer to compensate." Boothby said, tapping a wrinkled chin.

##Oh, n-not without the help of an interactive interface medium of some
kind. Such as what we're doing right now using satellites and
security cameras.## Barclay said timidly. ##An active scan will be really hard 
to hide from the humans from the past. They can detect that kind of hacker
activity in 1976.##

"Not going that route." said Boothby dismissively. "We already
have an interface medium available. A portable EMH."

##What? Where did Lt. Paris and Chakotay get that? Did they take
Voyager's when they realized the Borg were bearing down?##

"No. They already had one of their own. A second one that Harry Kim
duplicated as an experimental plan to submit to Starfleet as an idea 
to add to future shuttle designs. He wanted to make a difference and
a better existence choice option for the EMH-1 line."

##And what a difference that is, Boothby! Ohhh!## Reg celebrated.
##I actually think we can finally save this situation at last. That holodoc, 
if we can get him to work, will help us save our critical descendant
from a premature death, thus saving our own timeline and preventing
the destruction of Voyager and the loss of the away team.##

"You're forgetting about the Borg who were chasing them. Even
if we save both Voyager and the shuttle, they'll still be coming." 
Boothby said.

##We've got that covered. We.... sort of negotiated with the 8472 to help
us out.##

"You did what?! What's to keep those Fluidic space monsters from
using this whole situation to finally conquer us? They've tried it once already
don't you know. Remember that duplicate Starfleet Academy training ground 
they built that Voyager found?"

##Janeway's truce is still keeping them our allies.## Barclay insisted. 
##They're gonna engage the two cubes the moment they sense our original
peaceful timeline's been restored. And by saving Voyager, they'll close the Halley's 
Wormhole that actually opened secondarily as a result of the Borg ships 
destruction by Voyager's modulated phasers. And this whole time echo you've
been living lately and that we've been probing for the last four days, will never 
have existed in the first place! Isn't that wonderful?##

"May the deitys have mercy on our souls." Boothby moaned.

##Doubting Thomas. It's called politics. It's all a part of honoring the 
conditions of the Delta Quadrant truce.## said Barclay reassuringly.

"I don't do politics. I only do flowers and cadet pruning, remember?"
Boothby grumbled.

But Barclay was oblivious. ##The away team gets to Tom and Chakotay. 
They all fix and activate the EMH, and then we find that trapped descendant 
and prevent his/her death. Easy! I can so see it happening.##

Boothby rolled his eyes at Barclay's hologram. "You're so young. Two words.
Murphy's Law."

##What's that?## Reg asked.

"Look it up." Boothby snapped and closed their connection.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tom heard a knock on his camper door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Your captain." came a strong gravelly female voice.

"Kathryn!" Paris celebrated.

"And Tuvok." she replied, letting herself in. Captain Janeway was dressed in
an all white business blazer, white pants with a solid colored blouse. 

Tuvok, Voyager's security chief, had bound his Vulcan ears with a black
do rag and was wearing a ripped biker's outfit of faded mint with
a maroon muscle shirt. The effect was striking.

"Nice." Tom commented. "Remind me never to run into you in a 
dark alley, Tuvok."

"Why would you want to do that?" Tuvok commented.

"Oh, never mind. It's a figure of speech. I only meant that your disguise 
is very effective." Paris said. "You look like a street wise gang member."

"Thank you. I tried to find a modicum that this society will either choose
to ignore or accept at a distance. How is Commander Chakotay? We 
haven't been able to scan his vital signs. It appears that his combadge 
is no longer with him." Tuvok said.

"I have it here. Protect advanced technology, remember?" Paris said, handing 
it to Janeway. "Chakotay's fine. They managed to save his life with 
stone knives and bearskins. He's resting somewhat comfortably at 
the local hospital."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that. Let's go visit him next. So do 
you have it?" Janeway asked, moving from window to window of the camper, 
making sure that no one was about.

"Have what?" Tom asked. Then he remembered. "Oh, the newspaper. No,
I don't."

Janeway and Tuvok sighed, putting away their actively scanning tricorders.

"I'm sorry, Captain. That d*mned dog took my bologna bribe and then he 
ran off with my dog whistle and didn't come back. I didn't want to monkey
around further and attract the firefighters' attention. Somehow, I don't
think it'd be seen as appropriate if an overnight guest starts playing
with the fire station's dog in the middle of the night."

Janeway shrugged. "We'll think of something else."

But Tom was already on another track.
"Wait a minute. How about Chakotay? If Boothby wanted me to see that
newspaper, wouldn't he have tried the same thing with the commander?
He's very keen on sharing information I've recently learned." Paris said.

"It's worth a shot. But first, let's have a little rundown on what tech
you do still have that's left over from the shuttle." Janeway ordered.

Tom started emptying his pockets and his knapsack. He cringed just
a little when he finally laid out the doctor's small autonomous emitter.

Tuvok picked it up and raised an ironic eyebrow. "Stealing classified 
sickbay equipment without authorization is a punishable offense, 
lieutenant."

Tom became indignant. "I didn't. The captain here--"

Janeway held up a travel dirty hand. "I authorized it. Harry Kim had
completed his experimental duplication and the shuttle's mission was
its first test run. I wanted to see the new EMH in action."

Tuvok's emotionless expression didn't change on his dark features. 
"It is unfortunate the shuttle is disintegrated. It will be difficult 
modulating our escape pod's small computer to hold all of
the doctor's program."

Tom finished laying out all the things he had managed to save
from the shuttle's med kit. And his tricorder. Reluctantly, he
handed over the hypospray full of Seven's Borg cure 
nanoprobes over to Tuvok. "Oh, and I had to use some 
of these. Both on Chakotay and one of the locals."

Janeway looked up in alarm. "Are you absolutely sure no one
else was infected?"

Tuvok quickly scanned Tom. "He's clear." Then he aimed it in
the general direction of the fire station and scanned that, too.
"So are they."

"Yes, Captain, I-- Yes, I got it all. I even dissolved the one Borg
implant that fell off of Chakotay's hand when I injected him."

"Good." said Janeway. "Last thing we need is another Borg
Cube learning about this time echo and wormhole following 
Halley's Comet, through a newly reborn drone."

Paris sat down wearily onto one of the long camper couches
next to the moonlit window and short curtains. "You know, it's
funny."

"What is?" Janeway said, sitting next to him. She could see 
utter exhaustion in Tom's eyes.

"Halley's comet is on the same journey we are, captain. Seventy years
out, and seventy years back." he said, flying a hand up in the
air like an airplane in two directions. "Only difference is,
that d*mned comet gets to Earth all right, every time." he sighed.

"I'll get us home, Tom. It might take most of the rest of our lives.
But I'll get us there, I promise." Kathyrn whispered.

"Or die trying." Paris said realistically, laying his head across
one of his arms resting on the tabletop. "Ah,.. I give up." he
said. "Kathryn." Tom asked. "Do we have a home left to return
to?" he asked, missing Voyager.

"Not yet. Let's go bring it back, shall we?" she invited, reaching
for his hand to offer some comfort. 

Tom took it, fighting tears. He turned his head away from her.

Janeway dragged over the medkit and groped around until she
found the medical tricorder. With it, she scanned Tom and got
a baseline health status. "You've been burning your candle at
both ends. No wonder you're sagging. Dopamine levels from 
lack of sleep are sky high..."

"That was Boothby's little surprise phone call a few hours ago.
Gave me a start." Paris groaned.

"Your blood sugar levels are over the top...."

"That's something called soda pop. A whole case." Paris
shared with her. "And they were good, too."

"You're not a diabetic." Janeway chided, but then softened.
"I'm suggesting cordrazine. Just a drop. To keep you going
a little longer. Do you as a medic concur with these readings?"
she asked.

Frowning ruefully, Tom took the med tricorder from her hand
and read it. "Yep. I'm a mess. Fed but frazzled."

Janeway grinned and watched while he dialed up a dose.
Then she took the new hypospray he had prepared and
injected his neck. "This should counteract that sugar and
caffeine rush, and breakup all that lactic acid buildup you
have in your muscles."

"Why fight it? I had Rampart Hospital's coffee, too. And 
it was wonderful." Paris. 

Janeway licked her lips. "Oh, stop. You know I won't be 
able to resist that."

"The captain has restrained herself. She has not yet indulged
in real coffee." Tuvok said, with a sparkle in his eye.

"I didn't want to torture myself." she explained. "Just the
thought of solving this whole dilemma and then returning
back home to where there is none--" she broke off,
swallowing dryly.

Paris offered her the cordrazine. "Here. Maybe you should
have some of this instead." he joked with a smile.

Janeway slapped it aside.

Tuvok, meanwhile, had out a tool kit and he started work
on the EMH's autonomous emitter that he had diode tied to 
a tricorder and Chakotay's combadge. "Our escape pod
is hidden in the L.A. river bed, not far from the hospital you
mentioned, inside of a storm conduit."

"Think it'll be safe there?" Tom asked.

"Yes. I took the precaution of setting up a set of portable
tachyon stabilizers. No one inside of this time echo will be
able to see or detect the pod. There's a protective 
camouflage in place." Tuvok reported.

"When are we leaving to go see Chakotay?" Paris asked.

"Right now." Janeway said. "Ready, Tuvok?"

"Yes, I can finish up at the hospital." he replied, scooping
up Tom's battered backpack to hold all of their things. "I 
took the added benefit of building a satellite tap into
my tricorder so we can remotely fly the escape pod. I've 
also added a temporal stabilizer into this combadge 
that will protect a wearer physically from alternate time 
people if they should try to interact or restrain the user 
in any way. It will act as a buffer so we don't accidently 
leave this echo for the real 1976 time stream outside. I am
also 86.67 % certain that using the doctor's emitter, we will be 
able to project Barclay's hologram from Project Pathfinder 
to appear to us, too, along with the doctor, face to face."

"Good work. What time is it?" Janeway asked as they all stepped
outside and snuck down the side drive of Station 51 silently,
to catch a bus at one of Wilmington's corners.

"Four a.m., by local reckoning." Tuvok answered.

"Good. Then we have two hours to get done with what
we're doing." Paris replied. "Johnny Gage told me that
the station has an automatic wakeup call that begins at
six a.m. After that, it's breakfast time. And I'm sure they're
going to come out to the camper then to see how I've slept."

"We'll have you back in time to meet them." Janeway
promised.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Janeway, Boothby, Tuvok and Tom all got into Chakotay's room
without problems. Boothby's natural don't see me knack had spread
wide to encompass them enough to get there undetected by 
anyone.

They stood out of range of the monitoring patient camera's view
while Tuvok rigged a false image computer chip to attach to it
to fool the nurses.

"Too bad we can't simulate this.." Chakotay said, of the EKG monitor
he was wired to that was showing his current cardiac rhythm.

"I can arrange it, commander, if you wish." Tuvok offered.

"Please do." Then Chakotay looked at Kathryn. "I'd get up to 
greet you properly, captain. But I'm kind of tied down here." he 
said of the three tubes going into or out of his body.

"I don't expect you to." she said, placing a warm hand on
his pain sweaty forehead."Couldn't they dampened the pain down
a little?"

"I refused to let them. I wanted to be clear headed for your arrival.
I knew it would be sometime tonight." Chakotay said.

Boothby moved over to the bed. "I hate this era for medicine. They
can see into the body, but not do anything about it once they get 
there to fix anything. They feel the ultimate solution is to cut everything 
open!" he said with disgust.

"Don't remind me." Chakotay grimaced.

"I am almost ready to bring the doctor online, commander. Another
two minutes, fourteen seconds.." Tuvok promised.

"Can't come fast enough. I feel like hamburger." Chakotay groaned.

"Your cardiac telemetry will no longer reflect and report your stress." Tuvok
told him. "I performed a bypass." he shrugged.

"Is that a joke?" Tom asked, surprised.

Tuvok just raised an eyebrow and turned back to work.

Janeway chuckled, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. She
picked up the paper they had all been seeking. It had fallen in
between the corner of the bed and the railing next to Chakotay's
good arm. "Chakotay. Have you seen this?" she asked.

"Better read it if you haven't." Boothby warned. "It's important."

"Oh, I forgot. Page three B." Chakotay remembered.

Together, captain and commander read the caption and
looked at the circled photo. Chakotay paled. "That's one of
the firefighter paramedics who saved me. That's Roy DeSoto."

"See?" said Boothby, at him. "And the date. It's still now."

"But he's old. He wasn't that way a few hours ago." Tom and
Chakotay both said almost together.

Tuvok offered a hypothesis. "Perhaps he is not old, in this current
time echo." he said with emphasis.

"Then where is this?" Janeway asked, pointing to the photograph.
"It's happening at the same time."

"That is what we have to determine." Tuvok replied.

-------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Tuvok lifted his head when the modified device he had 
started building in the camper, came to life. "Captain?
I believe I have done it. Project Pathfinder can now
project Mr. Barclay's image through this unit, life sized."

Tom Paris took precautions and tightly shut the door
leading to Chakotay's room. He leaned against it to
lightly prevent Rampart nurses from entering unexpectedly.

"Do it." Kathryn replied, only looking up briefly from
Chakotay's stress damp face. "Then get the doctor
online, fast as you can. Chakotay's in a lot of pain."

Tuvok nodded. He placed the projector he had built
onto Chakotay's over-the-bed patient table and flicked a
switch.

An electronic hum filled the air and a man sized void
appeared in a sparkle of light, then filled out to become
a balding man with a youthful face, clothed head to
toe in a gray and black functional Starfleet uniform
with saffron colored shoulders. "Ah,.. finally." it said.
Then Reginald Barclay walked forward, hands spread
in beseechment. "Captain Janeway,.. it's so
good to see you again face to face...er.. well almost."
he admitted with a nervous fidget. "as usual." he 
dipped his head with respect.

"Niceties to the wayside, Reg. We have a problem."
Janeway replied and then she handed the paper to the 
hologram briskly.

"Oh, that's unexpected.." Barclay goggled, frowning
at the image of the white haired Roy DeSoto.
"Isn't this man---?"

"Yes." gasped Chakotay from the bed. "That's a
rescuer who helped save me in the woods, one of two 
paramedics who are partners who work at a fire station 
not far from here. But he may not be the one we already 
know."

"We just saw the young one a few hours ago." Tom
Paris clarified dryly, annoyed at Barclay's normal fidgetty,
anxiety caused physical and vocal mannerisms.

"Oh, my. We didn't detect this." Reg said.

"No, I did. For you." Boothby shared evenly. "I knew
the Nexus dumped me here on Earth of this time period
for a reason."

Barclay stammered. "So you're not the real Boothby?"
he asked weakily.

"I am. But I'm his reflection. Just like Guinan."

"And how James T. Kirk used to be." Reg whispered to himself.

"Lieutenant?" Janeway prompted, interested.

"Nothing." Barclay replied, a little louder, with a start.
"Look, this is a bit of a twist up, but...we can still help."
Barclay's hologram said, glancing over his shoulder as
if he had just been spoken to. "Admiral Komachy just
told me that all the scientists are probing Halley's
wormhole into your time pocket with a tighter focus.
They'll find something odd if it's truly out there." he promised.

Kathryn looked thoughtful. "Maybe it's not that hard."

"Captain?" Tuvok inquired, raising an eyebrow with curiosity
glancing up from the work he was performing on the doctor's 
holoemitter.

"We've clues aplenty." she replied. "In the background."
Janeway looked down more closely at the photograph.
"This is a fire museum.." she said, seeing antique horse drawn
vehicles with hoses in the background behind the aged Roy. 
"That's got to be a place that isn't very common for L.A. 
in 1976."

Boothby began to smile like a cat.

"It's not." Tuvok replied. "And according to our escape pod's
computer.." he said consulting his tricorder. "..there is only 
one. The County of Los Angeles Fire Museum."

"Where exactly is it? Is it far?" Janeway asked.

"Only a few kilometers from here. It is located inside an isolated
warehouse district at 9834 Flora Vista St. in Bellflower." Tuvok
said, reading the data he had called up again.

Janeway smirked. 
"Shot in the dark. But I think that's the first most likely place to 
go to start scanning for a temporal anomaly large enough to
shift a man into aging. For we know that's where this Roy was
yesterday or last week, at least, when the photo was taken."

Tom held out a hand, "Can't we do it from the air? I thought 
Chakotay rigged the escape pod to be able to be flown by 
remote control." Paris remembered.

Janeway just gave him one of those looks. "In this day and age?
It'll be spotted, photographed, filmed and reported to the far
corners of the earth in about two seconds. I wouldn't be surprised
if Project Bluebook got their hands into it, too, up to the shoulder." 

"Ah, our ancestor organization.." Reg sighed in reverance.

Tom scowled at him from his door guarding place.

"Sorry." Barclay said self consciously.

Janeway ignored the exchange.
"No, we'll fly her only as a last resort or when we're finally 
ready to break orbit for the wormhole."

"When all this is over." Boothby agreed.

"If it can be all over and not looping." said Reg, unhelpfully.

This time, even Chakotay glared at him.

Tuvok commented without words. "Mr. Barclay, please keep an
eye on your module for us." he said, tossing the fragile satellite
booster up into the air so the hologram had to fumble with
it for a few horrifying seconds before he gripped it securely
in both unreal hands.

Reg took the hint and moused down into silence.

Boothby was staring at the small portable emitter lying on the table. 
"Mr. Tuvok?"

"It is ready."

The wizened alien scooped it up eagerly and said the cue.
"Computer, active the emergency medical hologram." he
said, holding up the silver ovoid into mid air about chest level.

A new hologram filled the air and this time, the likeness appeared
strong and stable as it filled out into functionality. "Please state
the nature of the medical emergency." said the holodoc pleasantly
as the emitter stuck itself onto the side of his fake arm when he
had fully materialized. 

Then he soon spotted Chakotay, lying on the bed. The EMH wasted
no time in procuring Tom's backpack that had the tools of his trade
inside, the extensive medkit and medical tricorder. "So, you weren't
exaggerating." he said to Tom Paris.

"Would I do that?" Paris said, exasperated.

Boothby, Tuvok, and Janeway chuckled. Chakotay didn't. 

"From what I can see, the commander is wounded very badly despite 
of a hospital repair job."

"Ease up doctor." said the Native American commander. "Paris was a proper 
medic first for me as best he could."

The EMH harrumphed in his unreal throat. "We'll see about that.
History and previous treatment?" he asked of everyone in the room
while he scanned Chakotay from head to toe using the red flashing
sensor probe he had pulled out of the medtricorder's holder.

Paris was thorough. "Colloid therapy, oxygen, emergency surgery,
antibiotics, manual bone reset,.."

The EMH quickly withdrew Chakotay's no longer needed I.V. 
catheter and healed the area swiftly with a dermal regenerator. 
He smiled at the bag of glistening fluid. "Crude, but ingenious. At 
least they got that part right."

"... pain medication.." Tom continued on his report. 

The EMH's eyes rolled in doubt at that one. 

"He's right. I was the one who refused more when it was offered." Chakotay 
defended as an explanation as to why his vital signs were so stressed. 

"Chakotay, I'll have you know being macho for the sake of the away 
team, is backfiring wonderfully." the holodoc said. "I think I'll fix that next." 
Then he swiftly injected Chakotay with the twenty fourth century's version 
of pain relief. The commander immediately sagged into a relieved stupor.

Tom pressed his lips into a firm line. "Uh, doc, I'm not done yet.." he said 
to the EMH. "One of the echo earthers was Borg infected, too. A young 
male paramedic."

The EMH's expression changed to one of compassionate alarm.
"He'll have to be treated immediately. I can't say being liquified
internally by computerized filaments is the most enjoyable affliction
one can suffer."

"..but I cured him with some of Seven's nanoprobes." Paris
finished. 

"Well why didn't you say so?" the EMH groused mildly as he
drew up another high tech tool and began to heal the sutures
in Chakotay's liver right through his patient gown.

Tom just sighed. "Nobody can speak as fast as you can think."
he said defensively. "Chakotay even got some blood from
him." he said, to vindicate the truth of a completely solved
Borg problem.

"He did? Well, there's no sign of that." said the holodoc, tapping his
medical tricorder. "Maybe the people who think they can call themselves 
doctors and nurses around here decided that rushing him into surgery
and cutting him open instead was the better solution." he
said dryly.

"Here. Here." grumbled Boothby, in a like mind. "I've seen that
kind of alien mentality in action countless times at Rampart."

Paris looked confused. "Wow, really?... Huh. I could of sworn 
they were gonna do that. Dr. Brackett seemed pretty keen on
the idea of running in several transfusions right awa-"

Tuvok suddenly called out a warning. "Doctor! Avoid that
machine!"

The EMH immediately leaped away from Chakotay's
juryrigged EKG monitor that his rear had almost bumped. 

A curl of smoke arose from the device. 

Janeway immediately ran over to it. "Oh, G*d no. Did it ignite?"

Tuvok quickly scanned it. "No. There is no sign of a plasma fire.
Even on the microscopic level."

The EMH looked shellshocked. "What was that all about?"

Janeway tensed. "A nasty side effect of this time echo we're 
all inside."

Boothby completed her thought. "Accidental electrical
discharges start permanent exothermic reactions, doctor."

The EMH was matter of fact about the danger narrowly avoided.
"Mmmm, first time for everything. Captain? Do you really want me 
online? With my tactile sensor fields," he said, wiggling the
fingers of his holographic hands, "...I'm the ultimate as a walking 
tinderbox." he said, deftly removing the NG tube from Chakotay's 
nose painlessly. "Ah." he said with satisfaction when it was done, 
tossing it over his shoulder like a wet discarded noodle.

Janeway grinned in spite of herself at his antics, but held up a 
disagreeing hand. "Right now we need you, doctor, an unavoidable 
risk I'm willing to take for Chakotay's sake. And possibly later on 
for city wide scans. There's an ancestor of one of the away team 
here in our time echo that we want you to locate using your stored 
medical records." Kathryn replied. "If anything were to happen to that
individual, our timeline would be irrevocably altered and then
we'll never get back home."

"Yeah, and Species 8472'd probably grind the Federation
underfoot just for spite for breaking the agreed Truce."
Tom told him.

"I recall reading reports on their whole fiasco. They are more advanced 
than we are aren't they?" sighed the EMH. "About using me as your 
hound? Should be easy enough, everyone on the crew's genetically 
mapped as soon as they join Starfleet." the holodoc replied smugly 
as he finished up using a bone regenerator on Chakotay's recently 
reset upper arm. He had expertly cut away the cast with a finely
tuned portable laser. "How's that, Chakotay?" he asked bending 
over his rapidly becoming happy patient.

"Itchy. Feels warm."

"Normal." nodded the holodoc. 

"Can I move my arm now?"

"Certainly. Your humerus is back in one piece."

"Thanks, doc. I feel like a new man." the commander smiled, and 
he started to sit up.

"Not so fast." said the EMH, pushing him back down onto 
his pillows. "We've still got that bladder drain to remove, 
remember?"

The grin on Chakotay's face wiped away as the EMH 
suddenly drew the privacy curtain all the way around the bed.

"Put this back on and breathe deep.." the holodoc smiled sweetly,
aiming a flowing oxygen mask at Chakotay's face as
soon as they were visually partitioned away from the others. 
"I promise you it won't hurt a bit."

Chakotay screamed anyway.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several minutes later, Janeway and the others met Boothby
in the hallway. They were waiting for Chakotay to change into
the 1970s clothes they had beamed over from the hidden escape
pod. Kathryn spoke. "Boothby. I don't know if this is such a good
idea breaking Chakotay out of Rampart like this. Too many people
know about him."

"That's where I come in." said Boothby, smugly rocking back and
forth on his heels. "You're forgetting my natural amnesia aura my
presence has on these echo people. All I have to do is erase all
the physical evidence, such as Chakotay's chart, and we're in 
business." he smiled.

Tom Paris had other thoughts. "Somehow I don't see anyone 
sneaking a chart past that saucy nurse at that desk in the ER. Aura
or no aura."

"You mean Dixie McCall?" Boothby asked.

Tom nodded empathetically.

"Hmm. You may be right. But I'll think of something." he said, placing
a discreet sticker on the number plate of the door which signified in
hospital speak that the room within had had a death and was being 
cleaned. 

Chakotay quietly stepped out of the room, he was wearing a blazer
and his bangs had been combed down from his usual Starfleet buzz
cut, to hide his forehead tattoo. "I'm set." he said, tossing the doctor's
holo emitter up and down into his hand as he shouldered Tom's 
backback. "I've got the doctor back offline for safety. There are
too many pieces of archaic equipment around here to risk an EM 
field touch like the one we narrowly avoided."

"Good thinking." said Janeway, taking the emitter and pocketting it.
Then she turned to Boothby. "You know where we'll be?"

"Embedded into my permanent recall." Boothby promised. "I'll clean
up all signs of Chakotay's visit and then scoot out to the museum or
whereever you'll be then, later. I can sniff out you originals anywhere."
he said, tapping his wrinkled, acne scarred nose.

Beside him, the holographic Reg Barclay, shivered. He had changed
his appearance to look less futuristic and more like the away team. 
Barclay was wearing the appearance of blue jeans, a tie dyed shirt, 
with a red hippy bandana. "Let's hurry. It's almost dawn."

Tom studied his watch, "Geez, I should get back. Uh, I'll take
a cab and meet you there, Captain. I've got to head off the Station
51 gang or they'll get suspicious if they discover my absence."

"Here." said Janeway, handing him the day's newspaper and
some local currency.  "If they've already noticed you've been gone. 
Use this to tell them--"

"..that I just went out to buy a newspaper." Paris chuckled. 
"Thanks, Captain. Keep me posted." he said, tapping his
combadge tucked underneath a shirt collar so it chittered open.
"I'll be listening." he promised. Then he dashed off down the hall.

Tuvok nodded at Boothby as the caretaker alien left them for 
Medical Records to start working his subtle forget ability. "I've 
been studying the avenues around this community. I'm the best one 
to drive us there as I have reviewed the rules and regulations
of the road in great detail. I propose we go see the parking lot 
of the hospital. Specifically, the outpatient critical lot."

"Why there?" Janeway asked her second officer.

"Those owners will have been admitted for their ailments and will not 
miss their vehicle." Tuvok explained.

Reg stuttered. "But that's theft."

"We'll return it." Chakotay grinned. 

They left Rampart eagerly, choosing a beat up old van that didn't
even have fresh dew on it, a recent emergency admit. It still had
bloody towels in the passenger's seat that its owner had used
to stem a bad injury of some kind while he/she drove for help.

::And microsurgery.:: Janeway grinned, kicking them off the seat and
onto the floor. ::That should be an especially long hospital visit.:: 
she grinned. ::Works for me.::

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Janeway had been right that Tom's absence had been noticed.

Johnny Gage was leaning on the flag pole of the station when Tom Paris's
taxi cab pulled up. "So there you are. You almost missed breakfast."

Tom waved the paper enthusiastically into the air as his excuse.

Gage grinned at him. "You didn't have to call a cab. The nearest
gas station is only a block and a half down." he said, brushing a bit
of cut grass off of his duty uniform shoes.

Tom tipped the cab driver and waved him off. "I....didn't want to walk.
I'm still sore from yesterday's hike and the day before yesterday's
crash."

Johnny frowned with concern. "Want me and Roy to take a look at
you? It'd be no big deal for us to take you into Rampart for a quick checkup
using the squad if there's something that's still bugging you."

"I'm sure I'm fine. Nothing that a long hot shower won't fix." Paris said.

"Suit yourself. And you don't have to use the weak one in the camper.
Cap caved in finally when he lost an arm wrestle with Stoker."

"I don't get it." Tom said, shaking his head.

"We won the right to invite you in to have some food and real
hospitality."

"Would you thank Mr. Stoker for me?" Tom asked.

"You can thank him yourself, come on." Johnny said, making 
his way to Cap's office entrance to let them both in. "But first
I've gotta introduce you to Boot."

"Who's Boot?" Tom asked, pretending innocence.

"Our station dog. He can be a bit of a pest but he's all loyal once
he gets to know ya." Gage explained.

::Well I don't know about that.:: Tom chuckled mentally, 
remembering how fast Boot had fathomed and scrapped his 
paper ploy a few hours earlier. "I'm good with dogs. Usually." 
he joked.

"Aw, Boot's harmless. In fact, he's the best rescue dog Station 51
has ever had. The only hard thing is that he never sticks around
long enough afterwards for anyone to really reward him for his 
efforts. Believe me, he's a stray with wanderlust."

"I can totally sympathize." Paris said, empathetically.

---------------------------------------------------------
 
Janeway, Tuvok, Chakotay, and the holographic Reg Barclay 
packed into the van which turned out to be a hippy's hideaway;
a custom, complete with hemp curtains, poms poms, and neon 
colored flower stickers stuck all over the ceiling. Carefully, 
Tuvok drove towards their destination in Bellflower, ignoring
the silver peace symbol chain and charm dangling musically 
from the rear view mirror.

The holo Reg, feeling nervous about holding his own very delicately 
made portable satellite booster, rode in his seat with his eyes tightly 
shut. "Are we there yet?" he asked, grimacing with discomfort.

Janeway turned back from the front passenger seat. She had hung
a jacket covered arm discreetly out the window while she tricorder 
scanned the landscape they were passing, searching for temporal 
anomalies. "I'm afraid this is a 1970's combustible motor drive, Mr. 
Barclay, not a shuttle. It's bound to be a little bumpy." she grinned. 
"Besides which, why are you acting queasy? You're a hologram."

"Captain, I'm not car sick. I- I'm... anxious about losing me." he said, 
holding up the device that was projecting him between two tightly 
clenched sets of fingers. "...er... I mean, this projection of me and the 
connection we have with you inside of the time echo. It took most of 
a day to establish our link to Tom Paris the first time. We had to hack
the hospital's security camera network for that. And they're very, very
fragile things." he fidgetted nervously. 

Tuvok lifted an eyebrow. "Mr. Barclay, I assure you my repairs are of 
more solid construction than twentieth century Earth's."

"Well, I...didn't mean t--" Reg stuttered, immediately embarrassed.

"You doubt a Vulcan?" Chakotay mocked Barclay, teasing.

Barclay winced, but then remembered that Tuvok's feelings
couldn't easily be hurt. He came up with another explanation for
his high flying worries. "I'm just trying to say that the admiral's 
still very keen on being kept up to date with this entire...."

"...extremely dicey.." Chakotay chimed in. 

Barclay nodded eagerly in agreement. "....situation...." he said.

Janeway and the others heard muffled yelling as the indistinct voice of
the admiral came over Reg Barclay's audio pickups as he shared  
unhappy thoughts and other rapid fire orders with the scientists at 
Project Pathfinder.

Reg shrank at an unseen tirade. "...as soon as it happens." he clarified.
 
"I'm flattered." Janeway said dryly, not amused. "But making sure you
stay online isn't one of my priorities. And Komachy knows that." she said, 
pegging Reg with a firm stare as she raised her voice so that she
had been heard by her real unseen target, the man in charge with the 
cluster pins. Then she turned her eyes back onto the road ahead of 
them. Another bump in the pavement made her jump and grab the 
dashboard in front of her with her free hand. "I am reading something 
odd in the direction we're heading. A... void of sorts, something the 
tricorder can't quite make sense of." she reported, double checking 
her safety belt unnecessarily.

"How big?" Chakotay asked, eating heartily of the dried rations they had
supplied to him, in between slugs of bottled water. The bad axles of the
van didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.

"About building sized." Janeway said, studying her tricorder. "Sixteen
kilometers ahead of us. To the north and west."

"That is our current trajectory. Any visual spectrums?" Tuvok asked, 
spinning the fake fur steering wheel of the van nimbly as he drove
and turned where he needed them to go. 

"Hmmm.." Janeway considered as she played with buttons and 
different scans. "Just a minute. I'll see if I can glean out anything
more." she told him.

Soon, they were on a freeway, filled with other cars and trucks that 
were moving along at top speed. Janeway relaxed as the van started
moving at atmospheric shuttle velocity. ::Well, well, well. At least 
there are no traffic jams today.:: she thought happily, watching the 
vehicles flow around them as they freely broke California speeding laws.

Reg thrust an unreal but much more updated Earth holotricorder of his 
own swiftly around Janeway's seat and shoulder a second later, aiming
it at the windshield. "No. It's totally masked." he stated. "But it has
a physical surface boundary."

Kathryn made an amused face over Reg's eager to help antics. "Thanks 
for the report, Lieutenant. Keep us posted." she said, putting away her older
ship's tricorder. "Well, at least we know something tangible's out there. 
Maybe we'll be able to breach it."

----------------------------------------------------------------

At Station 51, Tom Paris leaned back in his wooden chair and stretched.
"Wow, do you know how long it's been since I've stuffed myself on
homemade pancakes?"

Stoker smirked. "No. How long?"

"Almost seven years." Tom told him soberly. He was still relishing licking
off the syrup from his fingers.

"Oooo." Cap sympathy winced. "Active duty takes a lion's share of sacrifices,
that's for sure."

"Us more than most." Paris said, quietly, morose. But then he shook himself.
"Uh, Captain." he addressed Hank. "What should I do if you guys get called
out to handle an emergency? Should I stay? Or go?"

Hank thought about it. "Got that covered. I cleared you with Headquarters to
be an unofficial official observer. Used your military history for the paperwork
that Gage provided."

Tom glanced back at Johnny, who waved a guilty hand. "I.....figured you wouldn't
mind. It'll be hours yet before Chakotay's awake enough for a visit from ya." he
explained lamely.

Paris grinned. "I appreciate it. I love fire supression unit-- I mean... fire stations.
Where do I ride?" he guessed, eyeing up the gas combustible vehicles just
in view, from the kitchen, where they parked in the apparatus bay.

Roy replied. "In the squad with us. We'll grab ya a helmet to wear and an 
Observer's name tag that'll keep the police off you at all our scenes. We just
ask that you keep back, keep safe and don't interfere."

"Oh, believe me.  Non-interference is tops on the lists of both my boss and me."
Tom gushed, holding up reassuring hands.

DeSoto smiled. "Want to call Rampart and see how Chakotay's doing?"

"You bet."

"Use my office, Tom." Hank suggested. "Requires no dime."

"Thank you, sir." Paris saluted. He left for the bay.

The gang chuckled.

"Man, he's a weird one." Kelly remarked.

"What makes you say that?" Marco asked.

"He talks funny, acts funny, and eats like there's no tomorrow." Chet
checked off on his fingers.

"What do you expect? He's from the military." Cap shrugged.

"Yeah, active duty." Gage agreed. "Sometimes I think they brainwash
soldiers into acting like that when they're back visiting civilians."

"Gage, you've never served like the rest of us. You were too young.
How would you know?"  Chet wondered.

Johnny knew he was on the spot. "Well, I... it makes sense. Can't let
that combat edge dull down, it'd be bad for business." he smiled crookedly,
self conscious.

"You're right." Cap defended. "We were taught to stay guarded. Took me
years to settle down after I finished my tour."

"There, see?" Gage said, looking at Chet.

"I'm not arguing with ya today. I'm too full." Kelly said and he got up to go 
do the dishes.

Boot woofed.

"Who says I'm arguing?!" Gage insisted, getting up in arms. "You're the one
who started finger pointing."

The rest of the gang just sighed and let Johnny rant.

Roy DeSoto smiled, until he felt a twinge in his chest. "Ouch." he said.

Gage immediately broke off. "What? What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's one of those." replied Roy, taking in a deep testing breath. "I just felt
a twinge. It's nothing."

"What do you mean nothing. Two weeks ago, you almost died on a wire,
Roy. If it wasn't for Karen Overstreet, you'd be pushing up daisies right
now." Johnny said with exasperation, focusing on Roy's face intently.

"Don't remind me." DeSoto said seriously. "I hate thinking about it."

Gage ignored him. "So are you having cardiac symptoms or aren't you?"
he said, grabbing Roy's wrist for a pulse check.

Roy just sighed and let him check. "Dr. Brackett said I'd feel spasms every 
now and then while my heart finishes healing. It did receive a hefty 
shock at that house fire."

"Twice." Chet chimed in.

DeSoto chuckled. "Yeah, first from that electrical wire and then from
the Datascope paddles after I rolled off the roof."

Johnny let go of Roy's wrist.

"So how am I?" DeSoto asked in amusement.

"It's normal." Gage groused.

"You're still sore somebody else got to me first that day, aren't you?"
Roy asked, teasing.

"No, I... I had my hands full with that victim. I couldn't just leave her. I knew
Karen and Marco had ya under control with that CPR."

"But it still rankles." Roy said, narrowing his eyes with a grin.

"Well, yeah, you're my partner. Ain't ya? And- and- and what firefighter wouldn't
feel overly protective in a situation like that." Gage said. "You were dying right
in front of my eyes."

Cap smirked and just winked at Kelly as the argument played out.

Roy missed the exchange completely. He just looked at Gage calmly.
"Johnny, thanks for worrying. But I'm A okay. You can check my pulse all you like." 
Roy said, refolding his newspaper neatly. "These are just angina bouts. Temporary.
And not dangerous at all or I'd never have been returned back to active duty."

Gage eyed him up critically. "Okay. But tell me when each one comes. I
wanna know if you're having arrythmias or BP changes during them."

"Deal. I promise I'll cooperate with followup on-the-scene vitals checks."

Johnny still wasn't comforted.

Roy threw up his hands. "Oh, for Pete's sake. If you're so concerned, how
about you driving the squad for the rest of the month?" he said, holding up the 
squad's keys. "That's how long Brackett said these things would come and go."

Gage immediately broke out of his fake frown. "Deal." he said, snatching them 
up. "Remember you offered!" He kissed the keys in celebration.

Chet crowed. "Oh, that was beautiful, Johnny boy. A real gem! Glad we
collaborated on that. I win the bet."

"Worth every dollar." Gage said, pocketting the keys.

It was Roy's turn to frown. "You guys set me up?"

"Yep." they both said.

The rest of the gang laughed, including Boot.

Roy decided in the end, to just laugh along.

-----------------------------------------------

##EEEeeOHHhhOOOooooo.## came Station 51's call tones. The gang
immediately bolted from their breakfast seats for the trucks.

They hurried even faster when the tones continued, into a second
and then third alarm, calling out three other stations.

##EEE OOO*spap* EEE OH*spap*, EE UH*spap*##

Tom Paris, who hadn't even touched the phone, pretended that
he was, by picking it up and holding it to his ear as he heard
the gang rush by. Johnny came to get him from Cap's office. 

"Come on, come on! Let's go. That's us. And it's a big one."
Gage said, getting excited.

"How can you tell?" Paris asked, following Johnny back to 
the squad at a run. 

"The number of tones. These are long, so somebody already
knows what we're heading into." Johnny shouted over the din.

Finally, the tones died away and Sam Lanier the dispatcher,
came over the intercom. ##Station 51, Truck 127, Battalion 9,
Stations 24, 99. Structure fire at the museum.  9834 Flora Vista St.
9834 Flora Vista St. Cross street, Bellflower Blvd. Timeout: 7:47.##

Hank shouted out in a wail. "Oh, no."

"What?" Chet shouted back. "Did we forget something?" he
asked, thinking of hanging hose or refilling air bottles.

"No. We're fine with our equipment. Don't you guys know where 
that is?! That address we got is the Los Angeles County Fire 
Museum." Cap quailed, quickly throwing on his turnout jacket 
and helmet.

"OOoo, all those old fire trucks?" Roy sympathized.

Gage had a sad face. "Afraid so." he said, buckling in.

"There goes our history, up in smoke." Chet bemoaned.

Marco was more optimistic. "Not if we're fast about it."

Stoker just took action. "Hang on everybody. I'm putting
the pedal to the metal."

"Do it." Cap ordered, swiftly. He already had his walkie talkie
glued to his ear, connected with the chief, who was also 
speeding to the scene. "That building's in a risky spot."

Inside the squad, Tom shrank under his fire helmet. ::Not good. 
Oh, not good. I wonder what's happening. My crewmates are there!.:: 
the Voyager pilot worried. He didn't even feel Johnny clipping the 
observer's I.D. to his shirt pocket.

Tom Paris didn't have long to wait. Soon, Station 51 was across
town and flying down San Gabriel Freeway 605, heading
quickly towards the row of palm trees which delineated Flora Vista 
St. from the rest of the warehouse district surrounding it. 

They were the closest assigned; easily on the way to being the first 
station to get there.

Cap got on his HT. "Anybody seeing any smoke?"

##Squad 51, negative.## replied Gage from Squad 51. 

Firefighters from the other companies on the way in didn't see 
anything yet either, reporting in the negative over the airwaves, in
reply, from their different, still travelling vantage points.

Stoker flipped up his driver's visor. "Just the smog line, Cap." he
said, tipping his helmet rim up as he rushed Engine 51 off of the 
freeway ramp.

"Okay, when we get there, we'll scout around in the trucks first. 
Nobody gets off until I say!" Hank ordered firmly.

##Squad 51, 10-4.## replied Gage. 

Hank finished his line of reasoning. "That block is a little too crowded 
alley or road space wise for our trucks. I want the widest safety 
margin possible right from the get-go, even if we have to set up 
in the park a block away, and hoof it in. There's active chemical 
store warehouses surrounding three sides of that museum! Last 
thing I want is an explosion cascade happening, with us right in 
the middle of it."

Battalion Nine's voice rang out over the fire channel. ##I concur,
Engine 51. Staging will be in Flora Vista Park. Parallel flank 
the main drag into the picnic area, then start tapping hydrants
wearing full turnout, including airbottles.##

"Engine 51, Battalion 9. 10-4." Cap replied. "Will you assume I.C. 
from me on arrival?"

##That's the plan. I need you with your crew.##

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Janeway and the others pulled up into the small parking lot of
the CLAFMA museum at its front. The birds were singing, and
the air was still quiet with morning stillness. Traffic could be heard 
on the freeway, but it was just a slowly growing hum of noise 
in the distance. 

Chakotay sneezed again in the daylight. "Ah, is that smog?"
he asked, covering his nose in distaste.

"Probably." Janeway said deadpan, taking out her tricorder once
more from her pocket to join the holo Barclay in scanning
the building. "I've heard it was usually heavier in the mornings."

"Smells like smoke." Reg commented, sniffing the air.

Nobody paid any attention to that remark.

Chakotay reported a finding on his own scan. "There's nobody
about. Not for blocks."

"I'm putting the EMH online then." Kathryn replied. "We could
use another pair of eyes." She tapped her combadge that was
linked to the hidden escape pod's hiding place. "Computer, activate
the EMH." she said, fingering the holoemitter she had placed into
her open hand. It jumped into mid air and stuck itself there.

The balding blue and black uniformed, brown eyed holodoc reappeared
at once. "Please state the nature of the-- Oh, we're here." he broke off,
seeing the shimmering void effect which shrouded the fire museum. "What
do you want me to scan for?" he asked, tapping the side of his forehead.

Janeway decided to be vague. "An old man. In there, if you can." she pointed
to the temporal boundary that was making the building in front of them shimmer.
"Our tricorders can't penetrate the event horizon."

The EMH just harrumphed in his throat. "First things first, captain. If you'll excuse
me." he said. Then he turned to the commander. "Chakotay, how are you doing?"

"Fine." Chakotay replied. "I ate. I had some more water. I'm good to go. Your
instant surgery worked."

"I am equipped with the memories and experiences of several hundred of the finest
doctors in the history of Starfleet. I sure hope it worked." grumbled the holodoc.
 "I have to check on my handiwork because the body can still react to changes 
adversely, despite being recently healed." he said, pulling out a medical tricorder 
to sweep Chakotay from head to toe. Then he put it away when no trouble was 
found. "Now, I can play your bloodhound, captain, with a clear conscience."

Janeway grinned ruefully. "Tally ho." she said, sweeping her hand at the museum's
nearest margin wavering wall.

Barclay was still scanning the area with his unreal modern holotricorder he had
the computers at Project Pathfinder whip up. "There's nothing out of the ordinary
going on around us temporal wise." he remarked.

"Plasma fire?" Chakotay asked out of the blue.

"No. Nothing." Reg replied.

"I agree." said Tuvok, scanning for time distortions as well.

The holodoc broke off from his squinting, by eye examination of the museum 
mirage in front of them. "Why am I looking for an old man?" he asked the group 
at large.

Tom Paris just rolled his eyes. "You were too busy working on Chakotay here
to pay much attention to our conversation at the hospital. You see, on Page
Three B of a newspaper, we found the image of a man we already know from
this time echo, a paramedic by the name of Roy DeSoto."

"He's one who helped save me." Chakotay clarified.

"And the old man?" the EMH asked.

"He's also Roy DeSoto." Kathryn shared. "Forty years older."

"And that's the kicker." said Chakotay.

The EMH blinked.
"I see. Now you want me to play space monkey and go traipsing off into 
that time field to look for a living, breathing, human anomaly."

Janeway held up a pair of hands in placation. "Doctor, you know we
wouldn't ask you to risk your program if our lives didn't depend on it.
Now there's a very small chance this version of Roy DeSoto is one
of the away team's ancestors."

"A very remote possibility." the EMH huffed.

"But it has to be checked regardless." Janeway said, no nonsense.
"Would you rather one of us step through there first? I don't think aging 
forty years in a few seconds would be a very pretty sight, Doctor."

Another voice spoke up from behind the van. It was Boothby.
"Captain, you're forgetting. You are all originals. This place,.."
he said expansively to their surroundings, "..and that place." he
pointed to the wavy illusion of the museum. "are just an echo 
and an isolated new ripple outside of your real original timeline."
said the wrinkled Nexus ribbon traveler gone gardener/cadet
tracker. He was wearing a straw sunhat and white overalls.
He stooped to smell one of a decorative pink flowered bush 
which lined the parking lot's curbs. He gave a bloom to Janeway
and bowed at her in re-welcome.

"Wait a minute. How'd you get here so fast." Chakotay asked
him. "We didn't scan anybody in the area."

"Were you scanning for El Aurien?" Boothby challenged.

"Oops." said Barclay, widening his surveillance sweeps to
include the whole Starfleet database of aliens. "Widened to
include Borg." he whispered to Janeway.

Kathryn nodded in acknowledgement. "So we'll be perfectly
safe going in there, Boothby?"

"Sure, why not? You're safe out here, aren't you?" he countered
wisely, with a grin. 

The EMH ignored their banter. "Let's just get this over with. 
If this senior aged Roy DeSoto turns out negative in the genetic 
similarity scans, I still have a whole city metropolis to search for 
your lost ancestor." he snapped.

"I just want to know how he figures into all of this." Janeway said, 
pointing at the museum.

"Are you sure he's really in there?" the EMH asked.

Tuvok replied. "There is a good chance that he is. The older Roy was 
photographed standing in front of historical fire fighting artifacts from this 
city."

"I...think ...I am 'seeing' one individual inside that building." reported 
the EMH.

"How can he do that?" Reg asked, totally surprised.

"He's wearing twenty ninth century technology." Janeway told
Barclay smugly, tapping her own shoulder in the place where
the portable holoemitter sat on the holodoc's arm. "Comes in
handy."

"Phasers out." Chakotay ordered. "We're entering."

"Careful with those toys and any E.M. fields.." Boothby warned, like
a scolding school teacher.

The last of the away team and the two holograms disappeared under 
the wavering effect of the temporal anomaly, when the first fire sirens 
began to grow in the distance. Station 51 and the others, were coming.

Unseen above the time cloaked museum, a spinning roof chimney had been
spewing out ordinary furnace fire smoke, but some embers and sparks had set 
the roofing tar on fire. The newly growing flames were orange. Escaping 
smoke rose out of the temporal pocket and into the time echo sky of 1976.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"HELLO?!... " HELLo... HEllo.. Hello..hello...o...? Janeway called out.
The sound of her voice echoed through the dim, almost non lighting of
the interior of the museum. 

The away team was surrounded by ghosts of the past. Silhouettes of
ancient fire engines and horse drawn apparatuses surrounded them
in neat rows, circled by plastic chains and labelled signs.

"Is anybody here?" Chakotay shouted, too.

There was no answer.

"Whereever he is." said the EMH. "He's alive."

Reg Barclay pointed. "I think I'm seeing more light over there.
Yeah, somebody's turned on a light switch."

The away team advanced cautiously, holding their phasers before
them in a careful guard.

They reached the circle of bright light. The source of illumination was
from ceiling spotlights and they were aimed at a pair of very special
fire apparatuses, the Ward La France and 1970's Dodge, Engine
51 and Squad 51. They were parked neatly next to a fake set
of a fire station's wall made of brick. A red dome light set above
a green chalkboard full of hasty notes and scribbles, was glowing.

Janeway pointed to the two trucks. "Anybody know what these
two are?" she asked, noticing the modern city name of Los Angeles
County emblazened across their doors. "Station 51?" she read.

"I do." said a voice from the darkness. It was gravelly with age,
and very tired. It was the old Roy DeSoto, wearing a dusty cardigan
sweater and gray trousers. "I think I used to drive that one. But the
paint's the wrong color." he said, pointing to the red squad. Then 
he staggered, suddenly weak, grabbing at his chest.

The away team put away their phasers and rushed forward.
"Roy?!" Janeway asked. "Easy.." she said. "You're hurt."

Chakotay and Tuvok caught DeSoto, and set him down on the running
board of Squad 51. 

The EMH already had out his medical tricorder, scanning the head
drooped figure. "He's been injured." he reported.

"Where?" asked Janeway. 

"It's his heart." the holodoc replied.

Tuvok spoke. "Captain, I advise caution. We are sharing information."
he said vaguely, glancing down at their tricorders significantly.

Boothby spoke up, curious about the squad. He opened one
door of it and pulled out an orange biophone. It was a prop. "I don't
think it matters in this case, Captain. He's not really real." he said
mysteriously. "Just splintered." 

"Care to elaborate?" Janeway said, still holding the ailing Roy's wrist
at a pulse point. 

"How else would you explain him?" Boothby said. "If out there is
just an echo of 1976. What's in here?" he asked.

"I don't know." Janeway replied. "Do you?"

"Not yet." the caretaker answered. "But I intend to find out." Then
he was captivated by Squad 51 again. "I've seen a lot of these trucks
at Rampart. Yeah, this is one of the fire department's rescue squads."
he said with increasing familiarity. "Oh yeah, this's my favorite station. Number 51.
I've seen Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto before, talking it up with that foxy Nurse 
Dixie McCall."

In their arms, the old Roy began to laugh. "She's hot, and I'm a married man."
Then he began to cry. "Oh, Joanne." he mourned.

"Who's that? Your wife?" Kathryn guessed.

"Yes." sobbed DeSoto. "I haven't seen her for so long."

Janeway looked up significantly. "How long has it been, Roy? Can you tell us?"

Boothby set down the biophone in his hand, and opened it by flipping back
its dusty orange and silver chrome lid. He plugged in the antennae and then he 
picked up the black phone. The line was dead. He held up the receiver meaningfully,
pointing to some dry rust and metal corrosion.

Tuvok nodded in understanding and began to look around. 

DeSoto started gasping, which prompted the EMH to inject him with cordrazine
to help his breathing. "Breathe normally." the holodoc told him.

"I need..oxygen.." gasped Roy.

"Not any more, you don't. That medication will help you compensate." the 
EMH promised.

Janeway felt protective. "Just try to relax. You're in good hands."

Roy smiled and finally opened his eyes and lifted his head from where he
was slumped against the driver's door of the squad. "Johnny always says that."
he said sadly. "I really miss Gage. Can you tell me where he is? I've-- I've been 
looking for him for ages."

"Easy, we're trying to help you." Kathryn said, squeezing one of his dry hands.

The holodoc finished his scans and closed his tricorder. "It's not a heart attack.
It's damage from electricity."

"What? How old is the injury?" Kathryn asked.

"Two weeks at the most." the EMH said. "But it's been untreated."

"Do what you can." Janeway said.

The holodoc nodded, then knelt and opened another medikit.

Boothby walked around the fake set of Station 51 that backdropped
the Squad 51 and Engine 51. He paused in front of the green chalk board
and began reading the notes that Roy DeSoto had written. It was
a crude calendar, marking off days and months and then years of
confinement. He was still counting a tally when Tuvok emerged from
the museum's curator office with a modern paper calendar. He held
it up for everyone. The year on it, said 2010.

"Oh my G*d." said Janeway. She turned back to Roy DeSoto, who
was resting and starting to freak out at the sight of the unfamiliar
tools and gadgets the doctor was using on him. "He's been in here
for thirty four years."

"For him, it only feels like it." Boothby decided.

The EMH agreed. "His outer body shows that kind of aging. But my scans 
show his internal clock's only been metabolizing for two weeks. His cardiac
insult has only been here for a short while, too. For the same period of
time."

"What's going on?!" Roy startled, trying to summon up the energy to 
stand and panic. "Who are all you people?"

"You can tell him. He's a different kind of echo." Boothby shared.

Chakotay crouched by Roy and helped hold him steady. He and Reg
got Roy to his feet carefully. Then they backed away, offering
him some personal space, showing empty hands.

"We're travelers." Janeway began. "From a faraway place on
a ship. We are trapped here, just like you. But we want to help."
she explained simply.

Chakotay, too, put on a reassuring smile. "I was hurt, but Johnny
Gage helped get me to Rampart."

DeSoto seemed to relax as he stared at Chakotay's familiar looking 
features. "You look so much like Johnny. What's your name?"

"Chakotay. Nice to meet you." he said, offering the old man his
hand.

In confusion, Roy shook it automatically, and then he began to
really study the faces of everyone surrounding him. "You seem like
good people. Are you here to help me get out of here?"

"Yes." Janeway promised."Will you let us try?"

Roy nodded, reluctantly, but he stopped trembling with weakness
and fear. He took on a more confident semblance of his younger
self. "I.. I.. can't leave. I've tried to go out the door, but somehow,
I always end up back here." he said in bewilderment, indicating the
swathe of light framing the two fire trucks and the fake set of Station 51.
"I've.. been sleeping in the office on the couch. The frig never seems like
it runs out of food. The trash never piles up. See?" he said, smiling,
offering Janeway a glass of wine from inside and one for himself.

Janeway smiled back and toasted him with it to try and win his confidence.

Barclay marveled. "Temporal recursion." 

"Yes." said Boothby. Everyone looked over at him where he was
tending a bar full of wine and sipping a glass. It had suddenly
sprouted into life next to Squad 51 along the wall. "Handy effect. If
you know how to put your mind to it."

The old Roy blinked at the alien with total incomprehension."I've.. I've even
tried to reach someone indirectly. By lighting the furnace out of season,
flashing the lights at night. But nobody ever sees it. And the phone doesn't work. 
I even tried calling the station, but all I get is the day/time temperature
recording." he said angrily.

Boothby raised a guilty hand. "Ah, that was me. I had to keep your time
bubble from polluting the echo or real 1976 timeline until I figured out
what to do with you."

"I've been here so long." Roy said, tears filling his eyes. "Feels like forever.
And I know I don't like what I see in the mirror." he snapped, pointing at
his own face.

"I'm sorry." Boothby apologized. "Now we can try to help you. I've found my 
friends."

DeSoto went on with his horrid recollection, shaking a confused head.
"I can't tell if these are signs of an early stroke or... memory problems."
he said, pulling the dusty biophone into his lap, trying to make it work again.
"One of the two." he reasoned like a good paramedic.

"Neither." said the EMH kindly. 

Tuvok replied with more. "This is something called time dilation. You
would call it an hallucination."

"But you're real." Roy insisted to Janeway, reaching out to feel the
carotid pulse in her neck.

"Yes. We are." Janeway said. "And we'll help you get back to your crewmates
and your wife. Just let the doctor treat you some more. I know his medical
gear is strange seeming to you. But it's okay. He won't hurt you."

DeSoto's focus wavered again. "I want a BP cuff." he said, taking his hand
off Janeway's throat.

Janeway left him in Barclay and the holodoc's care. They led him back to 
Squad 51 where he had seemed the calmest and sat him down onto the driver's
seat. The white haired DeSoto clung to the door as if his life depended on it.

Kathryn rose to her feet and addressed Tuvok, Chakotay and Boothby.
"So much for non-interference." she grumbled. 

Tuvok raised an eyebrow.
"This is a special case. Like Boothby said. He is not real. Mr. DeSoto could learn
absolutely everything about us, our lives, our history, in here. But if he tried to leave,
all of that would be wiped out."

"He'd return 34 years into the past.." Chakotay said.

"Is it that simple?" Janeway thought hard. "Roy said he couldn't leave, couldn't
walk out of the museum on his own."

"We must find a way." Tuvok said. "Logic suggests if a trapped entity leaves a time
bubble, then that microuniverse has no reason to go on existing. It is Roy himself who's 
powering this museum recursion."

"But when did this bubble begin to happen?" Kathryn agonized. "There has to be a 
starting point."

Boothby demurred. "Captain. If I may. What's the only thing that can go wrong outside?"

"A plasma fire." she answered swiftly.

"Yes. One started by an electrical discharge. Maybe an event like that's the trigger."

"Roy was hurt by an electrical discharge." Janeway remembered. "The doc just said so."

"So let's go ask him how he got hurt to learn more about that." Boothby told her.

Janeway went back to Squad 51. Roy was leaning on the steering wheel, arms folded,
with his head resting on his hands in a sleeping driver's pose. 

"Just keep taking deep breaths." the doctor encouraged. "I'm healing your myocardial
tissues." he said brightly, sweeping a deep probe through Roy's back right through the
sweater he was wearing.

Janeway tapped the EMH on the shoulder and he backed off to give her room.
"Roy?" she said, crouching at his side. "Do you remember how you got injured? It's 
very important that we find this out together."

Oblivious, Barclay sat on the front bumper, continuing his guarded scans of the bubble's 
boundaries.

"Wait just a g*d d*mn*d minute here." Roy snapped. "I keep hearing from you people
that I'm not real. Just what the h*ll is that supposed to mean? I feel like I'm still
me!"

"You are. In 2010." Boothby told him flat out. "Which is what time it is in here."

Roy's whole demeanor changed into one of shock. "No." he said in adamant refusal.
"It's 1976. I.. I know it is. I still have red white and blue paint under my fingernails from
the kids and I painting the sandbox in bicentennial colors. See?" he said, holding up
aged, shaking hands. The bright little flakes were there, cracked and broken.

Janeway gently took Roy's palms into her own. "I believe you. Outside, it still is 
your 1976."

Roy was only partially placated. "I was working a shift with the guys. We were
working a house fire. A bad one. Johnny and I were sent in to rescue a victim."

"You were? What happened?" Kathryn encouraged.

Roy thought back. "I..." he broke off, shocked. "I felt a jolt. It burned me. Right 
through my jacket."

"Electricity?" Janeway asked.

"I ...I don't know. I... everything just went black and then when I woke up I found
myself here." DeSoto explained. "Where's here?" he asked.

"The Los Angeles County Fire Museum." Janeway said ironically.

"That old place?! But this is the squad. And that's the engine!" DeSoto insisted.

"Yes." Tuvok said. The Vulcan tried to explain again."We are all in your future." 

Roy's mouth framed a circle oh of stunning thought. "Am I dead?"

Janeway suddenly had an idea. "Tuvok. The defibrillator. If that was used
on Roy two weeks ago, when Chakotay and Tom's shuttle entered the Halley's
wormhole, could that have created this time bubble and the echo version of 
time that brought all of us here, to be trapped?"

"It is possible." the Vulcan replied evenly. "It is also possible that others wounded
by electricity near the defibrillator machine, have also splintered off into the future."

Kathryn turned to DeSoto in horror. "Roy, have any others on your crew been 
injured by electricity? Ever?" she asked softly.

"Yes, uh.. Marco at a gas station. Cap at a car wreck. I had to scope him to check 
for a decent rhythm using the paddles." Roy thought back, shaking his head in
partial incomprehension.

"But did they black out like you did?" Janeway insisted.

"No. They didn't. They were both conscious and Johnny and I treated them." he
told her. "They were fine afterwards in a couple of days."

Boothby glanced up significantly. "Maybe sudden death's the only trigger."

"What?" Janeway startled.

"Cardiac arrest." the EMH followed easily. "That would explain the injuries I 
found in Mr. DeSoto's heart. He also had some bruises consistent with CPR."

Roy felt his chest. "I died?"

"No, both of you lived." Boothby answered. "But you were splintered off from your younger
self when you were shocked back to life the same time our accident happened. Voyager was 
destroyed. Then you were sent to 2010 by the wormhole when the Borg was destroyed 
inside of it as a secondary effect."

DeSoto rose swiftly and ran to the side of the squad. He opened the doors of the gear 
compartments one by one until he had searched them all. "It's not here." he said,
whirling back to the away team. "The datascope. It didn't follow me forward."

The EMH got mad. "Even if it had been here, I'm not about to go killing anyone still
alive with a defibrillation."

The old Roy wrinkled his freckle withered lips. "Then how else am I going to get
back home? I can't keep going on living like this. I'll go mad. I'm all alone!"

Tuvok had a theory. "Captain, the augmented combadge Chakotay's wearing.
It is possible it might work in reverse. An echoed person might be able to 
touch another echo. I designed it to be immune from temporal paradox."

Chakotay pulled it off and looked at the combadge pin in his hand. It began to
flash an amber light when he tapped it accidently.

"That one's a big one, Tuvok." Boothby argued. "Never shake hands
with yourself in the same time and place or it's mutual annihilation!" 

"The end of everything..." Janeway whispered in horror.

Suddenly, Roy DeSoto unfroze from his place next to the EMH. He snatched 
the gold and silver combadge device from Chakotay and dove into the squad.
He slammed the door shut and then locked both of them from the inside with two 
hand slaps. Then he looked away from them with determination and turned 
the ignition key deliberately.

"No, don't!" Janeway shouted. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Yes, I do." shouted Roy. Then he gunned the accelerator.

Reg Barclay was struck mid-waist. The hologram disappeared in a shudder
of sparkles as his projecting device was destroyed by Squad 51 as it hit it.

Then the old crazy Roy DeSoto, in an equally old but fully restored Squad 51, started 
speeding towards the shimmering wall of the museum and its confining time bubble 
boundary. Automatic reflexes had caused the old paramedic to turn on the squad's 
red lights without thinking and flashes bounced around the rest of the dark museum 
eerily.

The Voyager away team snatched out their phasers and began running after him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Tuvok easily paced beside Chakotay, Janeway and the EMH as they
ran. "Captain, I don't believe we need to hurry. With that temporal buffer,
Mr. DeSoto still has thirty four years of time to cycle through before he
reaches the other side of the time boundary. It has to pace him."

"Then let's meet him out there, before he re-emerges. We'll phaser the tires
off that squad only if we have to." Janeway said to her crew mates, keep 
her phaser carefully muzzle up while she ran full tilt ahead. "It'll take
time to set up our shots and make sure we won't be seen."

"Why are we stopping him?" the holodoc asked. "Isn't he protected now
with Tuvok's device?" he shouted as he matched his crewmate's speed.

Janeway shook her head in supreme doubt.
"Not really, doctor. In his frame of mind, do you really think Roy will
remember to hang onto that once he sees that he's actually free again?"

Chakotay just got mad. "Doctor, you know what will happen if he were to 
meet himself face to face without it! The captain said it inside."
he yelled, pushing his feet even harder to speed up.

The EMH made a face as he ran even faster. "I missed that."

"You'll cease to be." Boothby clarified again. "And so will everything
and everybody in existence." he panted, running hard after Voyager's 
captain. "No life. No hope. There'll be absolutely nothing, in its place." 
he wheezed.

Janeway, Tuvok and Chakotay leaped over a plastic chain barrier
they found in their way, but the EMH just phased right through it.
"No wonder I was versed with medicine instead of quantum mechanics."
the holodoc grumbled. "It's too depressing a subject."

Up ahead, they heard a crash as DeSoto finally hit the outer boundary.
But instead of breaking, the wall bent like a soap bubble and held
the front end of Squad 51 like thick molasses. Its velocity slowed to
a crawl as it oozed its way bit by bit through the event horizon. Whereever
its physicality touched the margin between years, a burst of all colors 
shot out vividly and blindingly in brightness. It was followed by a blossom
of orange physical fire and black smoke which caught in the real time 
combustible materials nearby, on the plaster board walls, in the ancient 
oil patches staining the concrete floor and the wooden pillars holding up
the roof.

"She's burning!" Janeway warned about the physical building around them.

One by one, the away team leaped through the wavering wall of 
the museum's time bubble. They no longer needed to use a door. For its 
maker was fleeing, and everything temporal was made permeable to any 
mind wanting an out.

Just before Chakotay and the EMH jumped for the outside, a static spark 
of contact tore raggedly from the polished chrome bumper of Squad 51's rear
end as it ran over a display shelf flanking a turn of the century fire pumper. 

The natural electricity did the unthinkable. Flames of orange fire at that point
began transmuting into green plasma. It soon grew terrifying, expanding rapidly 
everywhere along the boundary, ceiling to wall to floor, beginning to billow inwards, 
on its way to entirely filling the interior space of the museum.

"AhHH!" Chakotay screamed as he leaped through orange. He got through.

But deadly green plasma rushed in like a fast filling sink covering a drain and neatly 
blocked the doctor's only escape route. The holodoc leaped to free himself, but his 
program, locked inside the holoemitter, did not make it to the outside.
It bounced off the new lurid green, writhing wall of raw plasma, and landed on
the concrete floor, its casing singed and smoking a dirty black.

Janeway, Tuvok and Chakotay were thrown to the asphalt outside the building
with force as they each diverolled to expend their forward mometum. It knocked the
wind out of Chakotay. Janeway grabbed his arm. "Where's the doctor?" she
coughed, struggling to her feet. The commander shook his head, fighting 
for breath.

Tuvok made a graceful recovery, his tricorder already out into his hand. He aimed
it at the shimmering area surrounding the museum. "He's still inside."
Then his face grew even more dead pan than normal. "And he is offline."

"D*mn!" Janeway said, watching the lightning fast progress of orange flames 
as they fully engulfed their side of the building. 

"Where is he exactly?" Chakotay asked.

"The holoemitter is lying 8.4 meters away from the nearest outer wall."
Tuvok replied.

"We can't go back in to get it from here. The fire's too big." 
she said, aiming her phaser at the ominous bulge beginning to distort the 
side of the time boundary where Roy was driving Squad 51 back into the 
past towards them.

"No we cannot. Did you see that eruption of plasma, Commander?" the 
Vulcan asked Chakotay.

"Yes. It's started off the squad. I think I saw a rear tire hit something." 
Chakotay said, flipping over onto his stomach behind a parked car to
get a bead on their target.

"What?! A chain reaction started?" Janeway panicked, her eyes going 
wide. She almost dropped her phaser. 

"There is no cause for alarm. That time bubble boundary will act as a net.
It will cause the plasma fire to burn inwards onto itself until it extinguishes." 
Boothby said. "Just the opposite of what one can do out here."

"We still can't let DeSoto get out. Not while he has a two ton truck under 
his control! It's too chancy!" Janeway said, keeping aim with her phaser.
"Fire full spectrum on my order. Now!"

Tuvok, Chakotay and Janeway all shot beams of pure energy at the
kaleidoscoping distortion fast taking the shape of Squad 51 as it
continued straining through the time membrane.

"Keep on it! Concentrate!" Janeway screamed over the din.

"I think it's working!" Chakotay shouted back as the protrusion
started receding.

Then they heard the sounds; fire sirens, many of them, growing louder, 
in the distance. 

"Oh, no no no. Not now.. Break off! Break off!" Kathryn yelled in counter. 
"Get yourselves across the street. Hide your phasers. Act like witnesses!" 
she said to the others.

Chakotay met her by the opposite curb just as she pulled out a tricorder 
to monitor DeSoto's progress through the time bubble. "Captain." he said.
"Let Tuvok and I go back. We can rescue the doctor's holoemitter."

"No." Kathryn spat out instantly, angry at the suggestion.

Chakotay ignored her sharp retort.
"What chances do you think we'll have in the Delta Quadrant, trying to
travel home, without a doctor?" he asked, just as swift.

Tuvok was remorseless. "The odds would be against us. Overwhelmingly
so. Early deaths would come most definitely from lack of adequate medical
preventions and treatments. It would not be long before Voyager's crew
complement would be too few to fly her."

Janeway pursed her lips, and threw her head to the side, not wanting
to listen. "What makes you think you can still get inside? That green 
plasma fire might be waiting for you underneath the real fire!"

"Think of the others we left behind. You're their captain!" he snapped.

Remembered nightmares reared up ugly inside of Kathryn's head, unbidden.
"Okay. Fine." she blinked, stiff and rigid. She held out a finger. "You better 
make it back out here. Alive." she hissed at both of them, in a scathing 
furious voice.

Chakotay grabbed her arm in a firm squeeze of promise and grinned back,
and it was just as sharp as Janeway's glass edged grimace.

Then he and Tuvok were gone into the bank of fast growing smoke.

Beside her, Boothby's eyes became strangely malleable. They reflected 
Kathryn perfectly in their blue depths. They seemed to urge Kathryn
to say something else. 

"Aren't they in enough danger already, Boothby?" she said to him.

"Perhaps a little too much." the caretaker whispered into her ear.
"Think outside the bubble, Kathryn. There's more that you can do. 
Isn't there?" he challenged. "I know you're good at this."

She started to shake her head, but was unable to look away. Then the
unbidden icy idea came to call. ::...no...:: said a little voice inside of her. 
::But you have to. You've got no choice!:: a second one reasoned. 
Oddly, the second mental voice sounded a lot like her sister, Phoebe. 
Feeling nauseated, Captain Janeway slapped her combadge, weakly. 
"Janeway to Escape Pod One."

##Working.## replied the monitoring computer.

"Rendevous to my coordinates. Full stealth mode: Atmospheric. Make
sure you're not detected. Not by any thing. Nor anyone!"

##Assignment?## the module asked her.

".....Emergency temporal plasma fire containment." the words tumbled out,
sour and rank. "N-No countermand."

##Orders accepted and locked. E.T.A. Fifty six seconds. Sublight.##

"Acknowledged." Janeway trembled, growing very pale.

"Atta girl..." Boothby encouraged. "Now you're cookin.." he grinned,
holding her arms in a comforting, sideways hug, overexaggerating by far,
the role of a human disaster witness.

The look Janeway gave the caretaker, was of the purest rage.
She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Chakotay and Tuvok. I'm buying 
you more time. Watch for the pod!  She'll soon be inside with you!" she 
warned.

Then she started crying full force with sudden sorrow and loss. Tears 
flooded out unbidden, hot and jagged.

Boothby simply held her in a deep hug and started stroking her hair softly.
 "Shhh, I'm proud of you, Little Bird. It's all right. It's okay. You had to do it."

She had just signed all their death warrants.

Yes. They'd probably regain the EMH's portable housing. But
there'd be no returning back to orbit to return themselves home 
through Halley's wormhole anytime soon. The escape pod's final orders 
were to use its deflector shields to snuff out the plasma fire, at the cost 
of itself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Engine 51 was already in full deployment mode when Squad 51 
pulled up at the curb next to the park.

Tom Paris immediately abandoned Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage
as they geared up into jackets and bottles when he spied Janeway 
standing on the street nearby with Boothby. 

He tried to act nonchalant around all of the rushing firefighters 
surrounding and flowing around them as they hustled to move 
coiled hose and equipment to where they most needed to go.
"Captain.. wh--?"

"I chose the doctor over the pod, Mr. Paris." Janeway said quietly,
her eyes already starting to dry. "They went in to get him."

Tom's mouth flopped open and he set his hands on his hips
in denial and just stood there, frozen. A full minute later, he
managed to choke something out. "You mean we're gonna be 
stuck here? Forever?" he asked, holding loose fingers over his 
lips, in shock.

Janeway looked at the ground, seeing ants there. She nodded without
saying anything, then she moved her foot to keep from harming them.
"And Voyager and our whole crew's gonna stay dead." she said
evenly, blank eyed. Then her face broke up into sudden silent grief, 
dripping new tears.

Paris took in several deep unsuccessful breaths. And then he 
said something, a little bit later. "You know what? I think I can 
eventually... be... okay with that. Yeah." he said in a small voice.

"How can you even think that?" Kathryn asked, folding her arms over
her chest self consciously as she wiped her eyes and nose dry with
a few knuckles.

"They have vintage cars here." he shrugged, in a lame attempt to protect
her feelings. "B'Elanna would have liked to have seen me tool around in 
them." And then he smiled.

In spite of herself, Janeway cracked a tiny, tear glittering grin. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Near them, a furry head poked up from the back of the hose bed
on Engine 51. It was Boot. He had hitched a ride. Whining, he
caught wind of something and jumped down fast.

He began to race towards the burning museum.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Janeway felt the pod's vibration, even though she couldn't see it
through the plume of smoke rising above the burning fire museum.
::It's here. Now that plasma fire will never get out.:: she thought.
::That subliminal buzz is its deflector shields holding in all the energy.::
"We're safe." she told Tom. "The pod got through."

Paris sighed with relief. "Good. I didn't want this town to BBQ.
I'm beginning to really like it here."

Janeway looked at her tricorder. "He's almost through. Another
few seconds."

Time fractured as fire and force erupted.

In an instant, Old Roy got his wish for freedom.  Restored Squad 51 
fully disintegrated on contact with the outside, flowing back into the future, 
where it belonged.

In doing so, it left the ancient DeSoto fully airborne, inside of a ball
of orange normal fire in the heart of an explosion and escaping debris. 

Old Roy's body impacted the ground like a lead weight and fractured 
his face into unrecognizable features as he bounced once.

When he landed, Hank Stanley had already noticed. "One eject! DeSoto,
over there! Marco get him all the gear! Chet, Gage, get inside and
make a fast sweep on a lifeline with a charged hose to see if anybody 
else is in there. This may not be the only arsonist." he said, pointing to 
their new victim.

Janeway whirled about, frightened. ::DeSoto?:: She had heard the orders. 
Then she spotted the telltale glimmer of combadge gold pinned 
on old Roy's charred shirt. ::He's wearing it. Oh, thank G*d.:: 
she sighed. ::He can be touched safely by his counterpart.::

"That's him, isn't it?" Tom asked, watching the younger Roy scramble
with Lopez over to the still figure's side.

"Yes." Janeway replied, sadly. "All he wanted to do was to go home."

"He's still alive!" the younger Roy said, after carefully rolling the older
face mangled man over to check for breathing and a carotid pulse. 
"Unconscious, facial injuries, burns. I'll need a long board, Cap!"

Roy shrugged off the odd sensation he got when he first touched the 
man's skin, but then his full paramedic training kicked in. He inserted an 
oral airway and asked Marco to start ventilating full breaths right away
using an ambu bag. "Keep him still. We'll worry about securing c-spine 
once Johnny gets back out here.." DeSoto said. "I need a firefighter with 
some suction!" he called to the scene aloud. Another company man 
rushed in with a unit off Truck 127. It was already turned on.
"Marco, use a jaw thrust. He didn't break that."

"Sure thing, Roy." Lopez replied, beginning to work with oxygen
around the suction flange wand that was getting rid of all 
the loose blood and bone they were finding in the man's mouth.

Station 51's blond paramedic bared his patient's chest.  And 
exposed massive burns over most of the skin. "Cap! Looks 
like bad thermal burns. Tell them to be real careful in there!"

Hank nodded, and then called for an ambulance.

Roy DeSoto did not even recognize the wedding ring on the man's left
hand because it had melted almost entirely away in the fire it had
been exposed to.

"Is he going to make it?" Marco asked, barely able to get air
into old Roy's lungs. One of his fingers were detecting a very 
rapid and weak pulse.

"I don't know." Roy replied. "He's in a really bad way. I'll set
up the EKG monitor."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the museum, the green plasma fire was beyond an inferno.

Chakotay and Tuvok stood in the margin of clear air the escape
pod's deflector shields were providing them. The computer was
still fighting aggressively to keep the plasma fire off of the Voyager
crewman it recognized as moving beneath it.  

"Think it'll hold?" Chakotay asked Tuvok.

"I cannot determine an outcome with any great degree of certainty."
the Vulcan said.

"I'll take that as a positive." said the Commander. "Come on. 
The emitter's only thirteen meters in that direction." he reported,
studying his tricorder.

Tuvok stopped him. "I can hold my breath against super heated
air, for much longer." he suggested. "You cannot make it that
far unassisted."

"Okay. I'll hang back while y---"

A muffled voice rang out. "Is anybody in here? Fire Deparment!"
It was Johnny Gage.

Whirling, Chakotay saw the dark haired paramedic and Chet Kelly
wearing air bottles, slowly making their way deeper into the building
on search. "Tuvok. He can't see me! He knows me!" 

"Nor can they be allowed to see the plasma fire." the Vulcan agreed.
"I shall deal with it." he shared, then he waved at the pod to hide itself
a little higher in the layer of smoke at the ceiling.

Chet Kelly shouted through his faceplate. "Hey, Johnny. Do you
really think the museum was targetted by a couple of torches like
Cap thinks?"

Gage paused in his rescuer-to-victim shouts. "Good a theory as any.
The museum was still closed and dispatch told us that no one was 
even scheduled to work here today at all."

Kelly suddenly stared straight ahead. "Hey, did you see that?"

"What?" replied the airbottled Gage. 

"I thought I saw something green over th---" Kelly broke off and 
suddenly slumped over when a vice like clamp gripped the junction
of his neck and shoulder, right through his fire jacket.

"Chet?" Gage asked, turning around. "Are you okay?!" he panicked,
seeing Kelly lying on the smoky concrete, not moving. "Answer m--"

Another grip came from out of the dark smoke. And Johnny, too, 
became a victim of the Vulcan neck pinch.

Then a nimble hand set off their P.A.S.S. devices.  Instantly, two sets 
of audible alarms began to fill the air.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tuvok crawled back over to Chakotay's side. "You are safe, Commander.
I rendered them unconscious."

"Did they see you?"

"No."

"We'd better move them back outside. This plasma fire's spreading fast.
I don't think those other firemen will be able to rescue them in time."
Chakotay said.

Soon, Chakotay and Tuvok had shoulder carried Gage and Kelly 
to a safe place outside, hidden under the fire smoke. 

"How long will they be out?" Chakotay said, repositioning Johnny
so he could still breathe without problems from the air bottle still 
strapped to his back.

"Only for another minute or so." 

"Okay, let's go back." Chakotay said urgently.

"Wait a moment, Commander." said Tuvok. Then he spread his fingers
over the unconscious Chet's face briefly in a quick mind meld around
the straps of his face plate.

"What are you doing?"

"Removing a memory of the plasma fire and inserting a suggestion that
will save this time echo until we resolve it." Tuvok replied.

A firefighter's shout, from very near, came through the thick smoke.
"Station 127 to Battalion Nine! I think I hear belt alarms. Over here 
east side somewhere!" they heard being yelled into a hand held radio
through a faceplate.

##Standard search pattern. I want a team of two on hose and air
on each side of the building until you find them!## ordered Battalion Nine
over the radio.

Chakotay startled. "We need to hide, Tuvok. Our time to try and rescue
the doctor has just run out. There are too many firefighters."
 
"I have finished." he said, letting go of Kelly where he lay sprawled next
to Johnny. "The captain is not going to be happy that we failed to 
save the doctor."

"The Prime Directive sucks. Okay, I said it."
Chakotay just gave him a look and wiped soot off of his hands. "Let's get 
out of here."  The two Voyager crewman hugged the burning building under 
the concealing smoke and found a way to return to the street by the park.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the museum, the escape pod sensed that it was now totally alone with
the fire, so it completely deployed its deflector shields around the green 
plasma fire, containing all of it, and itself, inside of a globe of white sparkling 
energy. 

Then it began an autodestruct sequence, one that would destroy the small
ship down to the subatomic level, but would also snuff out the green plasma,
leaving the real orange fire burning museum around it, still standing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly started moaning even as Johnny Gage awoke beside him.
Johnny was faster to consciousness. The first thing he did was check
his air supply. Then he hollered. "Chet?! What happened to us?" he
asked crawling over to Kelly to help him sit up. "We're outside!"
he said. As he moved, the P.A.S.S. alarm's howler, ceased. So
did Kelly's.
 
"I..I dunno. An explosion maybe?" Chet mumbled.

"How's your air doing?" Johnny asked, sweeping his gloves over
Chet's air bottle's connectors and hoses. "You still getting it?"

"Uh,,"

"Chet!"

"It's fine. It's fine. Just a little dizzy." he said as Gage hauled him to his 
feet and started to lead him away. 

"We're gonna get ourselves checked asap. I don't know why we blacked 
out. Could be some bad fumes we don't know about or--." Johnny
said as they started a stumbling walk away from the museum.

Chet paused a few feet later.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute, Johnny, I gotta do this." And he stopped in 
his tracks. He lifted his HT to his mouth. "HT 51 to Engine 51. Emergency!"

##Go ahead, HT 51.## came Cap's fast reply.

"Tell the power company to shut off the electricity city wide. There's some
real hot sh*t in there that's getting through our air masks. Johnny and I
just woke up from a blackout. We're on the east side, under the smoke."

There was a brief pause, then. ##10-4, HT 51 relaying your message to
Battalion Nine. I'll call in Hazmat...... Evacuate! All crews! Evacuate the area!
Hang in there, pal. Sending in a rescue team to get you two out to some care.##

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roy DeSoto looked up as Johnny Gage shed all his gear right next
to him. "Johnny? I heard. How are you doing?" he asked, working
swiftly over Old Roy to assess his other injuries.

"I'm weird. If I was smoke konked, why don't I have a headache?"
Gage asked. "Chet doesn't have one either."

"Don't question it, the fire g*ds were merciful." DeSoto joked.

"How's he doing?" Gage asked, watching the two other medics with
Roy, running in I.V.s and performing other critical care on Old Roy.

"Probably a compressed brain stem. His EKG's sliding downward
and his pressure's decompensating."

"Is he gonna code? An F?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah. That's why we're not moving him out." DeSoto said sadly.
"But... we're going to try everything anyway when it happens." he 
shrugged.

"Anybody find out who he is yet?" Kelly asked, shedding his air
bottle with a clunk to await his turn for a vitals check. He was
sympathetic, trying to make out the crushed cheek bones that
made the man's features distorted and unrecognizable.

"Nope. He doesn't have any I.D. on him." Roy replied. "All we
know is that he came out of that fire, like a bat out of H*ll."

"He was alone." Gage replied. "Chet and I didn't find anybody
else in there." Then he crouched by Old Roy, and softly 
took his hand. "Want me to help out?"

"Yeah." DeSoto nodded. "Let's give him that one chance to
live, all right?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tom Paris was standing by Janeway and the full away team when he felt
a wet nudge against one of his legs. He looked down, and so did
the others on the away team. "Oh, Boot? What are you doing here, boy?
Don't your crewmates know you snuck in a ride yet?" he joked,
crouching down and rubbing the dog's head affectionately.

"Who's this sweet thing?" Janeway said, petting Boot vigorously as 
only a dog lover could.

"That dog who wouldn't help." Tom replied ruefully.

But then, Boot opened his mouth and out dropped the doctor's
holoemitter onto the sidewalk. Paris scooped it up. "Well I'll be.
Thanks, Boot. It looks like you came through after all."

"Good boy." Chakotay crooned. Patting the dog's side loudly
with affectionate smacks. 

Tuvok just raised an eyebrow.

Paris took Boot by the face and went nose to nose with him.
"See you around the cosmos sometime, kid. Now get back
to your crewmates." he said, holding the doctor's holoemitter tightly,
gratefully. "They probably need you."

Boot whined and licked Tom's face once. Then he trotted
off to go sit by Captain Stanley across the street, who welcomed
him with a pat or two of surprise.

Then Paris looked at Janeway. "At least we'll have opera to listen
to every night." he said, hefting up the doctor's program significantly. 

Janeway smiled and the tiny group from Voyager huddled a little
closer together in bonding as they called their friend, the EMH,
back into existence.

"Please state the nature of---"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BEEEPPPPPPP! went Old Roy's EKG monitor.

"V-fib!" Gage called out, double checking the man's
carotid and not feeling one. He started instant CPR
while his partner and the other paramedics geared up
to work what they knew was a final cardiac arrest.

Across the street, Janeway tensed. "They're going to use it."
she said, of the defibrillator, to Boothby. "We have to stop it.
They'll start another plasma fire!"

Boothby grabbed her arm. "There are too many watching. You
cannot change the action about to take place. They'll know
something's not right. Trust me."

Janeway turned to take in Boothby's eyes fully. She almost
understood something crucial, but then, it was gone.

"Clear!" shouted Gage as he placed the gelled paddles 
over Old Roy's blackened chest. He thumbed the triggers.

A burst of green plasma exploded out from the defibrillator paddles
and enveloped Gage, Young Roy and Old Roy, concealing them completely 
in its searing energies in an instant, like a giant burning green body bag. 

Time slowed, congealed, then stopped for everybody in the time
echo. 

All except for the Voyager crew. 

Chakotay began to walk forward, drawn by a force he didn't fight.
He left his captain's side and then knelt by the burning plasma fire.
He reached out a hand, and then, he was pulled inside of it.

"No! What's he doing? He'll be destroyed." Janeway shouted

"It's his destiny.." Boothby told her, holding her arms to keep
her from running after her first officer.

Around them, time began to flow again. And when it did, the fire
at the museum, was gone. Only the telltale faint marks of a minor
roof fire remained with a single curl of white smoke.

The EMH lifted a medical tricorder and started scanning the green
globe. "They don't see it. None of them. They can't see the plasma
fire."

"I knew they wouldn't." said Boothby.
"Don't worry. They'll get out okay." Boothby told Janeway, Tuvok
and Tom with confidence.

"I'm still reading only one individual inside the plasma fire." the holodoc 
reported urgently.

"Chakotay!" Janeway shouted, finally unable to resist
yelling.

It got the attention of Captain Stanley. "Ma'am? Did you
say something?" he asked from across the street, startled.

"Don't do anything. He's self correcting!" Boothby said in
her ear, his voice filled with surprised self discovery.

"What?" sputtered Kathryn.

Janeway looked around desperately, trying to believe.

"They are together. Chakotay, Johnny Gage, and both Roys, 
I feel it in my bones, Kathryn." the caretaker said again, kindly, 
touching her arm softly. "Don't react."

Kathryn waved off Hank. "Nothing Captain. Just a little excited."
she lied. "I've... never seen anything like this before."

Captain Stanley nodded in understanding and turned back to his 
work of directing the scene for fire cleanup. For him, time had
altered.

"I don't understand." said the EMH, about the whole conversation.

Boothby grinned.
"Doctor, earlier you said it yourself. There were no signs of Johnny 
Gage's blood transfusions in Chakotay. That's because they were already 
one and the same in blood. Johnny is destined to be a part of Chakotay in 
our time through the genes. They are already merged."

"His ancestor!" Janeway celebrated.

"Yep. And this is now Johnny Gage's home timeline. The real 1976." Boothby 
told her, pointing to the intently focusing paramedic. "Everything will want to right 
itself around him." he promised. "I've seen this kind of effect before, 
around a man named James T. Kirk."

Janeway just gave Boothby a look about her most favorite historical 
hero.

"Well it's true. I was there." the caretaker shrugged. "And Old Roy
apart from New Roy is a mistake that'll iron out. Mark my words. I've found 
that the universe will always rebalance itself eventually."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the green fire of limbo, Chakotay sat cross legged 
in front of his prayer bundle with a hand resting lightly on his 
meditation inducer. "Achoyeemoya... I am far from the land of my 
forefathers.. I am far from the bones of my people.. give us, two 
souls, the courage to face this joining so we may know how
to feel our best friend, once again in our hearts."

Johnny Gage, in a trance, sitting opposite to Chakotay, began
to shout. "Roy? Come back to me... I want you to start breathing
again. I want you to live!" he screamed. "But I can't reach you!"

The green plasma exploded, filling their world with lurid fire.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was two weeks ago, in 1976, real time.

"See that?" Boothby said, as Gage knelt by the younger, still unconscious
Roy that the female paramedic trainee, Karen Overstreet, had just saved
at the house fire with the defibrillator paddles. 

"He's breathing on his own." said Karen to Johnny Gage.

The heartbeat on the monitor starting beating a little stronger
when Johnny touched his partner's chest softly while he listened to it with
a stethoscope. Gage sighed in relief at the sound of warm breath and
hung his head to hide his emotions.

"Yes." replied Kathryn.

Boothby smiled and swept out a significant hand for Janeway and her
crewmates who were watching the rescue, too. "Gage's the anchor here. 
Like the old Roy was inside the museum. I see that clearly now. I don't 
know how I've never noticed him before. He's a special.." he grinned.

"He is me." Chakotay told Boothby. "Maybe that had something to 
do with it."

"I don't usually work backwards, Commander. They like me to work forwards
most of the time." the caretaker scowled. "Oh, and another thing. This."
and he snapped his fingers.

Gently, unseen by the Station 51 crew or the witnesses to the house fire,
the escape pod touched softly down on the lawn near Station 51's fire
trucks.

"Boothby. I thought the pod had to be destroyed. You let me go on
thinking that?" Janeway gasped, shocked and angry.

"That was your final test, Kathryn. To see if you would sacrifice 
yourself and your crew, to save Earth." Boothby said, with no emotion.

"You have no right to--"

"I have every right. I'm under orders, same as you." Boothby smiled.
"Do you really think I stop testing my cadets after they've attained the
rank I see that's good for them, captain?" he added.

Janeway began to smile, hugely. "Then we were never really in
any danger. This whole time."

"Nope." said Boothby, stooping by a bush. He handed Janeway another
peach colored rose.

Janeway smacked him with her flower. Hard. Right across the shoulder.

"Voyager's fine, Kathryn. They're waiting for you on the other side
of Halley's wormhole." said the caretaker.

"But--" she started to ask about shortening their long journey.

But Boothby just shook his head. "Go home to your ship. You'll get your
most fervent wish, Kathryn. You just have to work at it a little more."

Then he turned and gave them all a tiny little bow, tipping his straw hat
forward to get the sun out of his eyes. "Until we meet again,... Admiral." 
Boothby joked. "No one died here. It was all just... an echo..o....o.....o."

The last impression the Voyager crew had of Boothby, was the sight of
the immense Nexus ribbon, descending rapidly, to sweep him away
from 1976 Earth.  

"Come on, people." Janeway said, when it was gone. Her eyes teared up
as she watched Roy DeSoto finally open his own eyes for the first time since 
his accident, to see his beloved crewmates circled worriedly around him. 
"Let's go home."

A minute later, the escape pod was rising into the afternoon sky under
stealth mode, heading for the burning comet that was a fire in the sky.

Almost out of sight, around the corner of Engine 51, someone was watching
their departure. 

In the wind they left behind, Boot whined, a soft farewell.
 
FIN  

Fire In The Sky

Janet Katz and Patti Keiper 2010.