Engineer's Creed (PG-13)
Star Trek, Voyager and all characters property of Viacom and Paramount.
I make no claims of my own. I just play with their toys (nicely).
This story is intended for all readers, although sexual situations are
mentioned. You have been warned! You may print or repost this story,
provided you include this disclaimer and give credit to the author.
Summary: How can B'Elanna balance her work responsibilities and her
relationship with Tom? The answer lies in learning another
interpretation of the key principles of the Starfleet engineer's creed.
Rating: PG-13
Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres cursed fervently, if silently, as she
banged her head against the ceiling of the cramped Jeffries Tube for
what had to be the hundredth time this shift. Even with the thicker
skullbones of her Klingon progenitors, her nerves protested the
repeated abuse. Behind her, Susan Nicoletti's gentle sigh indicated
that the other engineer waited patiently for B'Elanna to resume her
slow crawl through the tube. Checking her hold on the small tool kit,
B'Elanna began the slow move of hands and knees towards the next
replicator repair junction, with her colleague close behind.
Hard to believe that the beginning of the day had held such
promise. After working until 2300 solving an elusive problem in the
external force field generators, B'Elanna luxuriated in an
uninterrupted night's sleep, the first in days. No unexpected attacks,
engine failures or shuttle accidents had conspired to wake her early
from an exhausted slumber. Silently she'd stepped over a growing pile
of discarded uniforms, reaching into her closet for the last clean
Starfleet uniform she owned. She made another mental note to clean the
rest of her uniforms, certain that her replicator rations wouldn't
stretch far enough for an entire uniform if she failed to keep her
promise. Fortunately, the following day was a rest day for her
rotation-although how much rest the Chief Engineer took when her ship
traveled solo, thousands of light years from home, was something she'd
yet to determine. Straightening the broad shoulder straps of her gray
singlet, B'Elanna strode to the small, cluttered desk that held a pile
of padds, parts and other possessions. Her eyes narrowed as she spied
one padd, blinking patiently from the top of the pile. She didn't
remember seeing it there when she'd come in last night. B'Elanna
picked it up and began to read. The opening text indicated a private
message for her, which she thumbed into view.
"B'Elanna," it read, "I didn't want to disturb you, after coming
off beta shift, but I miss you. I'm beginning to wonder if you're just
a figment of my imagination. If it weren't for meeting up at command
briefings, I'd be convinced! Maybe if we can't make a date for lunch
or dinner, you could meet me for breakfast at 0600? Tom"
"Computer, time?" B'Elanna queried, although she was certain of
what she would hear.
The serenely feminine voice of Voyager's main computer replied,
"It is 0715 hours, ship's time."
"Damn! Why didn't Tom program a wake up call?" B'Elanna spat as
she dropped the padd with a clatter onto her desk. She closed her
eyes, smoothed her dark hair back from her prominent brow and
concentrated. "Computer, what is the location of Lieutenant Paris?"
"Lieutenant Paris is on the bridge," came the expected, if
unfortunate response.
B'Elanna sighed. Even Tom's legendary good humor had been
stretched to the limit with cancellations and missed meetings the past
two weeks. To be fair, not all of them had been her fault. His
piloting duties had led to at least one missed rendezvous. But it was
B'Elanna's never-ending duties as Chief Engineer that put the most
strain on their relationship, and led to the most disruptions of their
private life. Not that every one of those incidents hadn't been for a
good reason! But B'Elanna frowned in frustration at the thought of another night
wasted. There had to be some way to juggle her responsibilities as
chief engineer and still enjoy some vestige of a private life. That
is, she thought darkly, if Tom still wants to have a relationship with
me, after all this!
Stopping to pick up a dedicated padd loaded with the latest
engineering reports, B'Elanna gave her uniform a final tug into place
then smoothly exited her quarters. As she strode to the turbolift and
rode it to the command level, she quickly reviewed the data compiled
during the overnight shifts. Everything seemed to be running smoothly,
although Lieutenant Carey noted that the inexplicable anomalies in the
replicator power systems had reappeared, then disappeared again. B'Elanna
scowled angrily. Anomalies and fluctuations like this could be symptoms of
an underlying problem. With all the re-building and jury-rigging that
Voyager had survived since its arrival in the Delta Quadrant,
Engineering fought a constant, losing battle against breakdowns.
Something like this might not be life threatening. Yet. But the
eternal pessimist inside her feared that they might be the sign of
something more.
The turbolift doors wooshed open onto the bridge. Beside her,
Harry Kim looked up with a grin from Ops, while Tuvok's more restrained
nod paid the courtesy due from a Lieutenant Commander to a lieutenant.
Chakotay spared her a glance from where he stood at Tom Paris's
shoulder. The two men were evidently engaged in programming a new
series of evasive maneuvers. As B'Elanna watched, Tom put the ship
through a complex series of rolls and dives, ending with a spin that
threatened to wrench the stomach, even if inertial dampeners kept the
body from experiencing what the eyes took in on the main viewscreen.
As the ship resumed a steady forward glide, Commander Chakotay
complimented Tom on his success, clapping him on the shoulder.
"That's enough for this morning, but we'll run another series of
practice sessions this afternoon, okay, Tom?" As Tom uncoiled himself
from behind the conn panel, he nodded his assent. His eyes fell on
B'Elanna, still standing near the turbolift. Two fair eyebrows rose in
question. B'Elanna shrugged, a pink blush shading her cheeks.
"I guess I slept too well, this morning," she offered as Tom made
way at the conn for his replacement. Together they strode to the
meeting room for that morning's briefings. "Sorry, I didn't see your
note 'til after I woke up."
Tom waved dismissively. "Nah, I'm happy you finally got some
sleep. I just figured that you'd probably be up hours before your
shift to take care of some engineering problem anyway, in which case we
could meet before I reported back to the bridge myself."
"I would have loved to have breakfast with you, Tom," B'Elanna
assured him as she took her seat at the briefing table. Tuvok had
already preceded them; his attention clearly focused on a small stack
of datapadds in front of him. The others had yet to arrive for the
0730 meeting. "We've hardly seen each other for . . . ." She paused
while her memory struggled to provide the answer.
"Five days and seven hours," Tom supplied innocently.
B'Elanna sharply looked up and caught Tom's heated gaze. His
words brought to mind their last, heated night together. B'Elanna had
just come off of duty, late for a dinner date and hurrying to her
shower, when Tom had let himself into her quarters. Surprised at his
unannounced entrance, B'Elanna had only had enough time to clutch her
abandoned uniform to her chest as she whirled from the bathing chamber
to confront the intruder. Seated now at the briefing table, her mouth
curved reminiscently as she recalled Tom's wide-eyed look of shock as he
spotted her state of undress. They'd made passionate love in her
quarters. Afterwards, B'Elanna had smiled. Tom raised an eyebrow in
obvious inquiry.
"Just thinking-another cheap date for you, Tom Paris. No need to
go to all that fuss if we never make it out of my quarters."
"Oh lord, I forgot! I guess we've missed our reservation in
Holodeck 2 by now. Computer, release holodeck reservation, authorization
Paris Omicron Four."
"Reservation released." At the bland reply, Tom arched an
eyebrow and leered at B'Elanna. "Now, how are you going to pay me
back, Torres?"
"Pay you back?" B'Elanna retorted indignantly. "In your dreams!
It wasn't my fault we missed the reservation."
"Oh yes it was," Tom countered. "When I came into your quarters
and saw you like that I was trapped."
B'Elanna rolled her eyes and stood up. Stretching luxuriously,
she turned and began to walk bath to the bathing alcove. "I knew it
was a mistake to authorize the computer to give you free access to my
quarters," she threw over her shoulder. "I guess I was lucky. . . I
could have come back to find a microgravity generator reversing the
field in my bedroom or the entire suite filled with Gardavian grass
seeds."
"I'd never betray your trust like that, B'Elanna," Tom averred.
B'Elanna peeked around the corner. "I know you wouldn't, Tom,
because I'd kill you." Silence followed her matter-of-fact
pronouncement. "Be a love and while I'm showering, order us a meal, on
your replicator rations." B'Elanna smiled again at the muted
complaints she heard as she turned the shower on.
After her shower, she quickly finger combed her ebony hair into
place and donned a maroon robe that lay crumpled on the counter.
Securing the knot at her waist, she sniffed the air approvingly and
strode out to see what Tom had ordered up.
A candle provided simple and elegant illumination for the two
plates and glasses that lay waiting. Tom sat expectantly, dressed anew
in his deep blue tunic and pants. B'Elanna's eyes widened at the
pristine state of her quarters. Uniforms stowed, pillows plumped and
datapadds neatly stacked on the desk. "I knew you were good for
something, Tom," she joked as she joined him at the table.
"Hey, it was the least I could do, especially since I have some
bad news." Tom began to carve up his replicated salmon steak. After
savoring a few bites he explained further. "Chakotay has some new
evasive maneuvers he wants me to learn and then start teaching
protocols to the other qualified pilots. I've got to log in a lot of
practice time over the next few days in order to meet his schedule."
Tom grimaced ruefully. "So I'll be heading back to my quarters soon,
to try and grab a little sleep before the big man 'stops by' to pick me
up at 0500 hours tomorrow morning."
B'Elanna reached out a hand to caress his cheek. "Poor Tom.
Waking up is so hard to do!" She was unable to suppress a snort of
laughter.
He responded with indignation. "Hey, I thought I'd get a little
sympathy here."
"It all depends," B'Elanna replied enigmatically, digging her
fork into the leafy salad.
"Depends on what?" Tom questioned suspiciously.
"On how soon after dinner you have to head off," she explained.
Tom's grin briefly reappeared. "Not too soon, B'Ela, never you
mind."
**
Tuvok's significant cough brought B'Elanna abruptly back to
consciousness. A flush once again colored her cheeks as she looked up
to see the other officers were taking their seat at the briefing table.
She shot Tom a warning glance. He raised his eyebrows in exaggerated
innocence and turned to look at the Captain.
"So, what's the crisis du jour?" Tom enquired.
Captain Janeway locked eyes with Commander Chakotay and nodded
her head. Chakotay looked down at a padd in his hands and began to
speak. His soft voice carried clearly across the table. "Beta and
Gamma shifts report no major difficulties. Weapons testing indicates
all systems are at maximum, even the torpedo bays. We've got a new
series of evasive maneuvers that Lieutenant Paris and I have tested and
will now begin teaching to the other qualified pilots. The only
problems to report from last night were from engineering." Chakotay's
dark glance fell on B'Elanna.
Defensively, B'Elanna straightened her shoulders and took the
Commander's lead. "We had another of those replicator shut-downs last
night. Lieutenant Carey reported that power systems in the personal
replicators throughout the crew quarters experienced an unexplained
cascade failure at 0117 hours this morning, lasting for a maximum of
twenty-eight minutes. We're still investigating."
"Well, Lieutenant, I expect some answers. The replicator systems
main not be essential to life-support or propulsion, but they're damned
important to the crew's morale. And I want to make sure that there
isn't some fault lurking in the replicators that will boomerang on the
whole ship. Get on it!"
"Yes Captain," B'Elanna averred fervently. She keyed in a note
on her padd, speeding a note down to the duty officer in engineering.
-Staff meeting at 0800 hours- the padd obediently read, then flashed an
acknowledgement of her 'send' command.
B'Elanna raised her head to follow the ongoing discussion about
pilot training schedules, Neelix's plans for a morale-raising treasure
hunt and Seven's cool report of improvements in astrometric analysis.
The Captain dismissed them with a smile and a wave, and B'Elanna
quickly rose from the briefing table. She smiled at Tom, careful to
preserve proper decorum during duties hours, ever since the Captain's
dressing down of them during that awful period when those out-of-phase
aliens had tampered with their inhibitions. Tom, too, was careful to
be all that was proper in his quickly voiced goodbye.
B'Elanna strode to the turbolift. "Engineering," she directed as
the doors closed in front of her. During the smooth descent she noted
the padd carried a reply to her earlier directive. "Meeting set up.
Lt. Carey." She smiled. Joe had suspected the Captain would be
calling for some immediate action on the problem and hung around after
his duty shift was officially over.
Familiar faces looked up at B'Elanna's entrance a few minutes
later. Stepping forward to one of the diagnostic consoles, B'Elanna
called up the schematics of the replicator power systems. "Okay,
people, we've got a problem and we need a solution. There have been
two failures of these systems within the past several days. The
Captain and I aren't eager to see a third. Any ideas?"
Vorik furrowed his brow in deep concentration. Joe Carey cleared
his throat. B'Elanna indicated he should speak.
"We can rule out some possibilities. Cellular level scans reveal
no lingering Borg contamination. There are no multiphasic signatures
and materials analysis indicates that the relays aren't suffering any
microfaults."
B'Elanna nodded her thanks. "That's helpful, Lieutenant, but we
need some new ideas if we're going to avert any more breakdowns in the
system."
"Lieutenant, if I may?" The hesitant voice came from a long-
limbed Nurrelian, her indigo skintones rendering her nearly invisible
in engineering's dim lighting. B'Elanna squinted while her mind raced.
"Ah, Ensign Gerjian, you have something to add?" At B'Elanna's
acknowledgement, the flat-nosed alien took a deep breath.
"I just transferred over from ship's systems a few weeks ago, but
this problem reminds me of a situation we had in the hydrologic
recycler. You see, while most of Voyager's systems were redesigned to
accommodate the new gelpaks, low priority items such as the recycler
were hooked up with conversion circuits. For days no one could figure
out why we were having intermittent power failures until Sam Wildman
noticed that the couplings between Voyager's gelpak systems and the
recycler's control panel showed signs of microstress. Chief Davies
estimated that those circuits had about a tenth the operating integrity
of an integrated gelpak circuit. We rewired the recycler with some of
the new circuitry you incorporated in the holodeck upgrades and haven't
had a problem since." Finishing her long speech, the Nurrelian bowed
her head and sighed, obviously waiting for an explosive dismissal of
her suggestion.
But B'Elanna's eyes had brightened progressively as the idea had
taken root. Eagerly she began to call up schematics on the engineering
console. Eyeing them carefully, she crowed, "You might just be right,
Ensign Gerjian, and if you are you've saved us hours of headaches.
Specs indicate that all but the main replicator systems received the
same conversion couplings as in the recycler."
"Pardon me, Lieutenant, but then why didn't they fail at the same
time as the hydrologic unit?" Vorik's precise query demanded a
response.
"Easy, Ensign," B'Elanna returned. "The recycler operates almost
constantly, using a high level of power to process and purify our water
and other fluids. The replicators, especially in the crew quarters,
receive only limited use, thanks in no small part to our rationing
program."
"I never thought I'd say this, but thank heavens for replicator
rations." At Joe Carey's interjection, the engineering team broke into
chuckles.
"We're still not one hundred percent sure of this diagnosis,"
warned B'Elanna. "We're going to have to do some tests, then, if
everything checks out, I'll need teams to go one by one to each of the
power junctions throughout the habitat decks and rewire them according
to the new specs."
A universal groan arose from the engineers. This meant an entire
shift, or longer, spent in the cramped quarters of the Jeffries Tubes,
crawling from one junction to the next. B'Elanna nodded
sympathetically. "I understand, but this is the only way to get things
done. I'll also need a team here in engineering to coordinate shut-
downs and power-ups as well as fabricating more couplings." Her
fingers flew rapidly across the console's face. "Each replicator has
four couplings: intake, outflow and a backup pair. That makes. . . ."
"Seven hundred and eighty eight couplings to install," Vorik
supplied. "Including the replicators in all the laboratories and
public rooms, there are one hundred and ninety seven class two
replicators on this ship. At four couplings per unit that makes. . .
."
"We get the idea, Ensign," Joe Carey interrupted, rolling his
eyes at his superior.
"Better make sure that there are over eight hundred couplings
available to allow for breakage and loss," Susan Nicoletti suggested.
"Good idea, Lieutenant. Why don't you try out Ensign Gerjian's
approach on the replicator in my office? It should be the same set-up.
I'll put in a call to Chief Davies in ship's systems to get her input.
And Joe," she concluded on a ferocious note, "you should've been off
duty two hours ago. I appreciate your staying around, but I'm sending
you back to quarters. Get some rest! After all, we probably won't be
done with this project before you're back on duty tonight."
Reluctantly Joe smiled, fatigue evident in the shadowed circles
below his eyes. He turned to exit engineering as B'Elanna directed the
others to their regular duties. She half-turned for privacy and
fingered her combadge. "Torres to the Captain," she hailed.
Captain Janeway's distinctive voice responded through the
combadge's speaker. "Janeway here. Can I hope that you have some good
news for me, Lieutenant?"
"We think we have the replicator failures figured out, Captain.
It looks like it's a problem with the conversion technology between the
gelpak systems and the replicators themselves. I've got a team testing
our theory and if all works out we'll be ready to go within two hours."
Approval warmed the Captain's voice. "Good job, Lieutenant."
Honesty compelled B'Elanna to elaborate. "Well, I don't want to
take too much credit. The suggestion came from one of our new
transfers from ship systems, Ensign Gerjian. Seems that they had a
similar problem with the hydrologic recycler awhile back."
"Well, my thanks to the ensign, too, then. Janeway out."
B'Elanna squared her shoulders and set off to see what other
matters needed to be dealt with in her domain. She smiled with all the
rest as Susan Nicoletti gleefully reported the successful test of the
repair protocols on the small office replicator. Teams were delegated
to manufacture and quality test the hundreds of couplings repair teams
would require. As B'Elanna hastily wolfed down her a lunch brought
back from the mess hall, Nicoletti divided most of the staff into two-
person teams, to conduct repairs.
B'Elanna cautiously sipped on a creamy blue beverage as her
subordinate sketched out the details. "We've got teams out in the
Jeffries Tubes already, concentrating their energy on those replicators
accessible to more than one person. Those are the ones we figure have
had the most wear."
Nicoletti consulted the padd again. "Three engineers remain here
to complete manufacturing of the final three hundred couplings.
According to our estimates, we'll have all the couplings we need by the
end of this shift. Installation will be complete by midday tomorrow."
B'Elanna scowled darkly at that last. "Is there anyway we can
speed that up?"
"Well," the junior lieutenant replied doubtfully, "we could split
the teams up. But it's more efficient to have a second person
rerouting power and testing the repair."
"How about fielding more repair teams?" B'Elanna suggested.
"We don't have enough people left! I already took Chafin and
Marley off of the scheduled shuttle refit. I don't see who else we can
assign."
"How about you and me?" B'Elanna asked. Her fingers itched to be
working on something, anything, especially if it would speed the repair
schedule along.
"Well, I thought you'd want to stay here in main engineering and
supervise," Nicoletti explained. "I'd planned to take a turn myself
after I help with the remaining couplings. How about we go together,
then?"
Inwardly, B'Elanna sighed. Her subordinates seemed to believe
that the chief engineer's place was always in the engine room and were
reluctant to let her get her hands on any "real" work. She stifled the
angry bark that she might have released a year ago, demanding to get
out there immediately instead nodding acquiescence at the suggestion.
"But tell you what; as soon as I'm done with my lunch, I'll help with
the testing, okay? That way we should get out there sooner."
Shaking her head a little at the chief engineer's obviously
eagerness to get out into the cramped Jeffries tubes, Susan Nicoletti
exited the small office and went back to work.
B'Elanna swallowed another mouthful of the smoky drink.
Actually, it wasn't too bad, if you ignored the almost florescent color
of the beverage. She glanced at the chronometer on her workstation.
According to the time, Tom should be in the mess hall right now, having
his lunch. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of joining him there,
herself. -How would it look,- she asked herself, -if the chief
engineer is lounging around in the mess hall while the rest of her
staff is slogging through extra duties?- Doggedly, she set herself to
finish the meal and join her staff in the delicate task of crafting and
checking the power couplings.
By 1330 hours, they'd finished the fiddling task of microwiring.
Susan Nicoletti looked up from the toolkit she was assembling. "Still
sure that you want to go? I can always take Vorik."
B'Elanna rejected the suggestion emphatically. "No, I need to
take my turn, Lieutenant." She held up her own toolkit. "Ready to
go?" The pent-up energy of her day revealed itself in the long strides
she took from engineering to the turbolift. As they smoothly rode the
lift, Nicoletti consulted her datapadd. "The other crews have been
proceeding well. I've slotted us in to service the replicators in the
command crew quarters."
"We'll have to hurry, then," B'Elanna commented. "I want the
captain's replicator up and working before she comes back from her
shift!"
Once within the Jeffries tube, the two women worked in an easy
partnership. B'Elanna took the delicate task of removing the old
linkages and establishing new ones with the specialized couplings,
while Susan Nicoletti rerouted power and checked the results.
Nevertheless, the work took time, so much so that B'Elanna was startled
when her combadge abruptly interrupted her concentration with the
familiar voice of Tom Paris.
"Damn," was her first word as she banged the back of her head on
the lip of the access hatch she was using to service Lieutenant
Commander Tuvok's replicator.
"Hope I didn't call at a bad time," responded Tom in some
amusement.
B'Elanna stifled an automatic smart retort. "Not at all, Tom.
I'm just up to my elbows in a replicator unit."
"Hmm, now that's an interesting picture!"
"Why are you calling, Tom?" B'Elanna asked as she maneuvered the
next coupling into place.
"It's 2100 hours, B'Elanna. I was wondering when you were going
to call it quits and get something to eat."
"Probably not for awhile, Tom. There are still seventy
replicators that need servicing."
Incredulity edged Tom's voice, "Are you planning to do them all
yourself?"
"No," B'Elanna replied acerbically, "but I can't just leave this
job half-done. It wouldn't be in line with the engineer's creed."
"Geez," Tom exploded, "I could understand if it was the warp core
or life support, but you're telling me you're going to pull another
night of overtime to service replicators?"
"You won't find me neglecting my duties," B'Elanna responded
heatedly. With some difficulty, she kept herself from crushing the
delicate spanner she clenched in her hand.
"And you're saying I do?"
"No! But you don't understand, I can't leave this job half
done!"
"I understand that you'll neglect your own health if you think
that the bulkheads might benefit from a coat of polish," came Tom's
angry retort.
"No, you don't understand, Tom!"
"Maybe I do. See you when it's convenient, Lieutenant," came the
chill response. Then the com channel fell silent.
B'Elanna resisted the temptation to put her fist through the
Jeffries tube. The whispery sound of cloth against metal reminded her
that Nicoletti, next to her in the confined space of the access tube,
had heard everything. "Sorry about that," B'Elanna apologized tersely.
"I could finish this up, Lieutenant, if you want to call it
quits."
B'Elanna's rage erupted, "No!" She fought to control the angry
words so easily unleashed by her Klingon temper. "No, thank you,
Lieutenant," she finally managed. "We'll carry on until our section is
completed." Purposefully she installed the last component in the maze
of connections and panels, then carefully leaned back on her haunches
to survey the work.
Susan Nicoletti nodded in seeming agreement, then put down the
tricorder she'd been using to verify installation. "I'm sorry,
Lieutenant, but . . . permission to speak freely?"
B'Elanna bit back a sharp negation and carefully acceded to her
subordinate's request.
Nicoletti nervously drew in her breath and ventured, "Begging
your pardon, Lieutenant, but have you ever considered cutting yourself
a little slack?"
"What do you mean?" B'Elanna asked, still with an acid edge to
her voice.
"I mean, you take care of your engines and your engineers very
well. Like today, when you sent Joe off-duty after he'd overstayed his
shift to help. But you never take care of yourself the same way."
"Missing a little sleep and a few . . . social engagements hardly
constitutes any hardship on my part," B'Elanna retorted defensively.
Nicoletti, gaining confidence as she spoke, "I'm sorry, ma'am,
but when you push yourself too hard, it's not good for us, for the
ship, for anybody. For instance, do you really need to be out here
fixing replicators when your shift ended hours ago."
"So did yours, for that matter," B'Elanna noted triumphantly.
"But you'll make sure that I get comp time off within the week,
the same as every other engineer who pulls extra shifts. You never
take comp time off!"
B'Elanna tried another line of defense. "Look, I'm just
following the engineer's creed. A Starfleet engineer puts the needs of
the ship and crew first; that's the first article. If certain people
can't appreciate that, well that's too bad, isn't it?"
"Begging your pardon, Lieutenant, but it's a damned shame you
never made it through to the fourth year of the Academy."
"Why's that," B'Elanna questioned edgily.
"Because you'd learn then what a crock of shit that bloody creed
is; at least they way they teach it in first-year. With all the
simulations and viewings, you come out of first-year believing that
every Starfleet engineer is married to her engine room. Well, that's
not the case." Susan's hands gestured emphatically in the small spaces
of the Jeffries tube. "In fourth-year, serving engineers come in and
you work in service and repair depots with them. That's when you learn
the use and abuse of the creed."
Despite herself, B'Elanna was intrigued. "Go on."
"Well, for instance, I learned that even though the ship and the
crew come first, that doesn't mean that you, the engineer, come
nowhere. We all deserve a private life and humane treatment! It would
all be a lot easier if we were back in the Alpha Quadrant. There you
get leave time as well as maintenance crews to lend a hand at stations
and stardocks. Here we never get a real rest. But the ones who suffer
the most, if you ask me, are people like the Captain and you. You
never give yourselves permission to enjoy the same comforts you ensure
for the rest of us."
Flushed and embarrassed, Susan Nicoletti ended her speech and
nervously picked up the tricorder she'd let fall earlier. B'Elanna
crouched, unsure what response to make. The automatic angry response
she shunted aside. Barking at well-meaning busybodies certainly was
satisfying in the short term, but she was determined not to let her
impulses rule her, this time. Carefully, she composed a reply.
"What are you saying I should do, then?"
The other woman met B'Elanna's eyes in startlement. "Why, maybe
that you'd let the rest of the engineering staff get on with regular
assignments and not treat every problem that arises as if it's your own
personal emergency, I guess."
"But as chief engineer, any ship's problem is mine," B'Elanna
shot back.
"Yes," Nicoletti reluctantly conceded, "but does that have to
mean that you have to do everything? Look at today. Did you really
need to come out here and take a shift in the tubes yourself?"
"Hey, I'm not the kind of chief who sits back and lets everyone
else do the work!"
"Nobody thinks that! You're always in the thick of things, but
sometimes we wish that you'd let the rest of us do our jobs, too."
B'Elanna considered this. She still didn't feel entirely
comfortable with the criticism. "Nobody tells Captain Janeway she
works too much."
Susan Nicoletti laughed merrily. "Who could? Except Commander
Chakotay, that is, or maybe the doctor. I know that you've complained
yourself enough times about how the Captain can't step back when she
should and let us get on with something in engineering."
B'Elanna had to concede that point. "So, you're saying that I
should step back and let you other engineers get on with your work."
"Yes! And save yourself for the jobs where Voyager really needs
you. Nobody else can do half the things you can with the warp drive or
keeping shields online in the middle of an emergency! You can see the
way to solving most problems before the rest of us have a clue."
B'Elanna shrugged uncomfortably at the praise. When Susan
Nicoletti seemed poised to continue, she intervened: "Okay, okay. I
never knew the rest of you felt this way about me! And maybe I seem a
little overbearing to the rest of you, but I don't really know any
other way to be Chief Engineer."
"Well, for one thing," Susan offered slyly, "you and I both could
call it quits for today. Do you realize we've been working since 0800,
with only one meal since then?"
B'Elanna burst into laughter herself. "I guess I am a stern
mistress! Well, since it's-" she paused to consult the chronometer "-
2123 by my reckoning, maybe you're right."
"Great," enthused Susan Nicoletti, gathering up the tools and
unused couplings. "I'll just drop these back at main engineering and I
should still have time to visit the resort tonight."
"Just as long as you're back bright and early tomorrow," B'Elanna
warned. Inwardly, she was a little amazed at how easily she'd been
persuaded by the other woman. But even she had to acknowledge the
justice of the argument. As well, there was someone else who she
needed to talk to: Tom Paris.
As the two women made their slow way down the Jeffries tube
towards a main node, B'Elanna felt a rush of nervous energy. Would Tom
want to speak with her so soon after their argument? She resolved to
ensure that he did.
"Susan, this is where we part ways," B'Elanna announced at the
junction. She met the other woman's surprised gaze. "You take these
down to engineering and I'll head back to my quarters. Oh, and make
sure that nobody else is overstaying their shift?" Nicoletti smiled, a
bit surprised. Judging by her calculations, Lieutenant Torres'
quarters were a long and uncomfortable crawl away through Voyager's
access passages. Unlikely that the half-Klingon engineer was planning
to head there via the Jeffries tubes. But Lieutenant Paris' quarters
were very close by. . . . On that intriguing thought, Susan Nicoletti
quickly descended the ladder that would lead to the access hatch out to
the deck below.
Meanwhile, B'Elanna waited for the sound of Susan's passage to
soften, then mentally calculated. She turned to her right and counted
off the grids until she reached her goal. Reaching overhead and to her
side, she carefully detached a hatch covering, laying it down beside
her in the tube. Dim light flooded through from above, and B'Elanna
grabbed the hatch rim, lifting herself into a familiar room.
"Hey!" came an immediate surprised comment. Tom Paris strode
over to the small access hatch suddenly opened in the floor of his
sleeping quarters. Dressed in another of the blue outfits he favored,
he stood above B'Elanna's head and shoulders. "What in the hell are
you doing here?"
B'Elanna levered herself the rest of the way into Tom's room,
reaching down to snag the hatch cover and carefully work it into place.
Tom stood quietly while she delicately snapped it into position.
B'Elanna turned around, still on her knees and looked up at Tom
standing there, arms planted firmly on his hips, a small scowl
distorting the long line of his lips.
"Coming to see if you're still up for dinner?" she offered.
Tom cocked his head. "Don't you have some life-threatening
emergency in the secondary holo-buffers to fix right now?" A teasing
tone vied with disgruntlement in his voice.
B'Elanna forced a smile. She didn't relish Tom's slight
superiority, especially when she'd come to his quarters prepared to
concede, at least partly, that he'd been right. She slowly stood,
straightening her uniform with suddenly nervous hands. "No, actually.
I had an interesting conversation with Susan Nicoletti." B'Elanna
deliberately let the words dangle, sure that Tom couldn't resist.
"Oh," he challenged, arms crossing in front of his chest, "what
about? The joys of submolecular circuitry?"
"No, in fact, we talked about the engineer's creed."
Tom heaved a bored sigh. B'Elanna raised an eyebrow and closed
the space between them, tilting her head back to lock his cobalt blue
eyes with her own. "Really, Tom, engineering isn't always boring."
She reached a hand out to gently caress the line of his shoulder
through the soft fabric of the short-sleeved tunic.
Tom jerked back abruptly, obviously still unwilling to let go of
his anger. "I never said it was boring! Just obviously more
interesting than . . . other things."
B'Elanna felt his resistance ebbing and pressed a little closer.
A second hand joined the first at his shoulders, slender finger
caressing the golden hair at the nape of his neck. "Susan and I were
talking about other interpretations of the engineer's creed. In that
light, I've been awfully neglectful." Tom let his arms drop to his
side and B'Elanna pressed herself against him.
"For example, I've been terribly neglectful of the ship's crew;
at least one member of the ship's crew that is. Why, by my calculation
it's been over six days since I gave him any real attention."
Tom's lips curved upward and his arms linked loosely behind
B'Elanna's back. "Really?" he drawled. "And just what do you intend
to do to rectify this neglect?" He cocked his head to the side.
B'Elanna patently pondered Tom's question for a moment. "Well,"
she sighed, "I guess there's nothing to do except embark on a long
night of . . . maintenance."
"Maintenance?" Tom parroted playfully as he lowered his lips for
a kiss. "I could get to like this kind of engineer's creed."
B'Elanna anchored her hands around the back of Tom's head,
securing his lips for a deep and passionate kiss. The two carefully
worked their way over to the bed, Tom making contact with the back of
his leg and pulling B'Elanna over with him. B'Elanna arched an eyebrow
as she stretched with Tom. "Guess I'm getting my wish tonight!"
Tom looked at her dusky face, framed by the smooth fall of ebony
hair to either side. "What wish?" he asked.
"We're making it to the bed first time tonight," his lover
explained as she lowered her mouth to his.
Finis!
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