SYMBOLS

CHAPTER 6

"Increasing speed," Paris said, as he cleared the shuttle bay and steered the Delta Flyer away from Voyager. The view was spectacular and on any other occasion, Tom would have taken the opportunity to marvel at the scenery: the planet's surface bathed in sunlight below, Voyager attached to the uppermost pylon that protruded from the black spider-like space station, and the brilliant yellow furnace of the sun emitting fiery fingers along its circumference.

"Scenes from the Delta Quadrant," Tom mused to himself, as he imagined scanning the panoramic scene onto a postcard for his father. This was what he liked to do best - flying into potential danger and unpredictable success, his piloting skills taken to their very limit and then stretched further again. Alone against the elements, he clenched his jaw tight and refocused on the projectile that was rapidly traveling toward the sun.

"Engaging power thrusters." As Paris relayed his every move to Voyager, he tossed another quick glance at the object that was moving further into the distance. He picked up the pace of the Delta Flyer until he had made up some ground and come within transport range.

"Computer, establish a transporter lock on..." Tom trailed off as the projectile suddenly surged ahead. The unit's speed had increased dramatically, as if to deliberately ward off his pursuit, and he thumped his fist down hard on the console in frustration.

***

Although Janeway couldn't see the pilot of the craft, she immediately recognized the distinct piloting style of Lieutenant Paris.

From the moment the Delta Flyer exited Voyager, Zeron's attention had been focused on it, at first intrigued by the pursuing craft and then a little more wary as it gained ground.

The Flyer was not far away from the disposal unit when Zeron barked at the console, "Initiate manual override." From that point on, he used voice commands to steer the unit and increase its speed to maximum. Only then did the disposal unit rapidly gain momentum and race ahead, leaving the distant shuttle to again take up the chase.

***

The projectile was out of transport range. The flames of the sun reached out to lick at its silver shell and immerse it. Voyager's bridge crew fell silent, unwilling to accept that the occupants had been condemned to certain death.

"Engaging maximum impulse," Paris relayed.

"Can you get a lock on them yet?" Chakotay asked, a hint of stress coming through in his voice.

"Just a bit closer. A bit closer," Paris said. He collected the beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Computer, establish a transporter lock on the life forms. Ready to beam aboard. Energize."

"Paris to Voyager. I've got them! There's one adult woman and one female child. They're badly injured. Tell the Doctor to stand-by. I'll transfer them to sickbay as soon as I..."

"Tom, get out of there!" Chakotay yelled from the bridge.

The Delta Flyer was almost on top of the disposal unit when it was devoured by the sun and exploded. Paris knew his proximity to the vessel was a little close and he lifted his hands from the console, just as the impact of the exploding craft sent a sheet of sparks flying into his face.

"Whoaaaa..." Paris' far-away yell was the only sound transmitted to the bridge, while the Delta Flyer did a rapid U-turn through the cascade of flames created by the burning, disintegrating remnants of the projectile.