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Ice
Part 1 of 1
Synopsis:  "Displaced" from B'Elanna's point-of-view.

Ice

    I didn't realize where I was pointing the Klingon sword until he leaned back, holding his hands defensively in the air.  Though I was tempted to use the weapon on His Arrogance, I forced myself to lower the blade from his neck.

    "Look, I have tried this program, and now I am finished."

    Tom shook his head and stepped closer to me.  "If you don't like the program, that's fine, but why do you always have to get so hostile?"

    "I AM NOT HOSTILE!!"

    I'd been called many things before--temperamental, being the nicest of them--but never hostile.  The very word evoked images of cold things...

    Like ice.

    I hate ice.

    The dislike of cold things came with the forehead and the temper.  Mark it up as another reason to dislike every Klingon genetic code sequence in my body.  Not like I really need another reason, anyway...

    I suppose Tom Paris really owed that Nyrian his life, because the guy's sudden appearance saved his life.  If not for his timing, I might have ripped out the pig's heart... if I could have found one.

    The Nyrian was shivering, and I smiled inwardly.  This guy hated the cold!  Humans, though, have such thick skin, it takes a lot to make them cold.

    And thick skulls.  Paris was the Lord of the Thick-Skulled Humans.  After all, the martial arts program was his dumb idea, not mine.  And I am not HOSTILE!

*      *      *

    Harry sighed heavily as he heard me approach.  "There's nothing to indicate that any other ships have been in this area for weeks.  And the nearest inhabited world is over ten light-years away."

    I only half-listened to him.   Inside, I was trying to figure out what would make Tom think I was hostile!  Was it because I rarely had anything nice to say to him?  He should be used to that by now!

    "Whoever or whatever it is had to leave some kind of energy trace," I said absentmindedly.

    "Internal sensors aren't showing anything unusual in the corridor where the Nyrian appeared or Kes' last known location."

    I tried to dismiss my earlier, ah, discussion, and concentrate on the problem at hand.  "Then let's concentrate on the time.  Run a level one analysis on all sensor readings--internal and external--taken at the exact moment it happened."

    Harry looked at me curiously, then walked to the sensor panel.  "I'll get started.  It may take a while."

    I hadn't done such a good job of dismissing the whole "hostility" thing.  "You don't think I'm hostile, do you?" I asked Kim.

    "I, uh, wouldn't describe you that way, no."  He shook his head slowly, not looking up from the panel.

    I resisted a triumphant smile and seized the moment.  "I know, but I have a temper.  But that doesn't mean I'm always 'hostile.'  Does it?"

    "No, of course not--"

    "I'm forthright, I speak my mind, and it's very different from being 'hostile'--"

    Harry still concentrated on the panel before him.  "Very different--"

    "--And if someone described me that way, they'd be way of the mark, wouldn't they?"

    My friend finally turned to look at me.  "Way off."  But he had the same look on his face that Tom had had on his earlier, with one noticeable difference...  Harry didn't have a bat'leth at his throat.

    "Then why do you look like you're afraid for your life?"

    He was saved from answering that by the insistent beeping of the sensor panel.  Immediately, all his attention returned to the Nyrian problem.

    I wish I could dismiss things so easily.  "What is this?"

    He shook his head slightly.   "Looks like a surge of polaron particles."

    Oh!  Now that was interesting!  "Localize the source.  I'll try to increase the sensor resolution."  I walked back over to the calibration console and began k eying commands.  "You have anything yet?"

    Silence greeted my ears.  "Harry?" I asked again.  There was no one behind his console.  I knew, then, that his fate had been the same as Kes'.

    I returned to the sensor station with a heavy heart--see, not hostile--and tapped my commbadge.  "Torres to Bridge.  Ensign Kim just disappeared."

    "And we have another visitor," I heard Janeway say.

    Well, if there was one thing Tom and I could agree on, it was that no one messes with Harry Kim and gets away with it.

*      *      *

    Captain Janeway, Chakotay, and I were discussing the sensor readings.  From the way I saw it, we could be dealing with a baby wormhole that attached itself to Voyager somehow.  The question was, how do we get it off?

    As Janeway called for Neelix to bring a Nyrian scientist who might know a thing or two about wormholes, she vanished.  Into thin air.  Just like Harry.

    Poor Neelix commed Engineering saying he'd lost contact with the captain.  I repeated her instructions.

    Not long afterward, a Nyrian, in fact the one Tom and I had first seen, entered Engineering, followed by Ensign Buleena.  We set to work at the engineering console, reviewing the sensor data on the "wormhole."  I was suddenly convinced this was not a wormhole.

    "It has everything we'd expect to find in a wormhole," the Nyrian, whose name I didn't even bother to remember, said.

    "It's what we're not finding that I'm interested in," I answered, fighting back the urge to grin triumphantly.  "There aren't any quantum fluctuations."

    "Not unusual," he said quickly.

    "Not just unusual, that's impossible."  I really didn't trust this guy now.  The absence of quantum fluctuations wasn't supposed to be unusual?  Yeah, and I'm a blue-skinned Bolian.

    And I was right to not trust him.  As soon as I turned my back, he attacked Ensign Buleena, and pulled a phaser on me!

    "Your people have been doing this all along!"  He turned and tapped a few controls on the console nearest him.  "What are you doing?"

    "Moving you to the front of the line," he answered, in a, well, uh, hostile manner.

    Then I found myself surrounded by all the missing crew, standing in sunlight.

    Several minutes later, the last of our crew, including Chakotay, were transported. A Nyrian woman stepped forward and encouraged us to enjoy our stay.

    Fat chance of that.  I'd rather be trapped in a freezer with Tom Paris.

    Ugh.  Perish the thought, Torres, perish the thought.

*      *      *

    The creature from the next habitat over showed us how to find the rift he'd come through to reach our artificial habitat.  Janeway assigned me to re-align the optical sensors of the Doctor, who Chakotay had so thoughtfully remembered to download into the mobile emitter.

    "What do you see now?"

    The Doctor gaped around in awe.  "Fascinating!  Everything is glowing with its own energy.  Even the plants are emitting a faint thermal signature.  It's really quite lovely!"

    I snorted, not because of his comment, but because I could see Paris approaching.  "Aside from the aesthetic consideration, how's your optical resolution?"

    Paris stopped somewhere behind my right shoulder and leaned in.  "The Captain sent me down to get an update," he said cautiously, as if expecting me to snap his head off.

    I stood, not allowing him the satisfaction of thinking me hostile.  "Well, we're just about ready.   I've reconfigured the Doctor's optical sensors and, as soon as they're aligned, he should be able to detect the microwave signature of the portal."

    "Then I can begin my new career as a tricorder," the Doctor interjected.

    I turned back to fiddle some more with the mobile emitter. "About the other day... " I began.  "I might have been a bit... oversensitive... about the Klingon program."

    "Oh. Don't worry about," Paris answered immediately.  I glanced quickly at him, catching the Doctor doing the same.

    I returned to the mobile emitter and made a few last adjustments.  "That should just about do it.  I think we can start scanning now."

    "Good!" Tom said.  "I'll tell the Captain."

    He and the Doctor turned to walk away.  He got about two meters before he turned around.  "Um, B'Elanna..."  I turned to face him.  "About the program... I didn't mean to push you."

    Ah, here it was!  The long-awaited apology.  It was about time.  "I know you didn't.  And I didn't mean to, um, lash out at you like that."

    The Doctor stepped forward.   "A typical defensive reaction, using an aggressive outburst as a shield against a perceived emotional threat."

    I stared at the floor.  Apparently the argument wasn't over yet.

    "That says it, all right," Tom said, right on cue.

    I brushed past him.  "Oh.   That's funny, coming from you."

    "And what's that supposed to mean?"

    I made an arc back toward him.   He knew very well what I meant!  Paris loved shoving everyone away.   In fact, he was the Emperor of Defensive back in the Maquis.  He went out of his way to make everyone mad at him, effectively keeping us away from him.

    "Well, you just pretend that nothing bothers you, and then you turn everything into a big joke."

    "That's a valid observation," the Doctor said, gazing up into the air.  "Defensive mechanisms come in many forms."

    "That is ridiculous!  I am an easy going person--"

    I laughed.  Easy going?   More like a... well, a pig.  And certainly the most irritating person I'd ever met.

    "--Who is just trying to be friendly to someone who is obviously terrified of having a friend!"

    The Doctor jumped in again, beginning to enjoy our little spat.  I wasn't enjoying it.  "Fear of intimacy is a common indication of low self-esteem.  Perhaps if you stopped to analyze the root cause, you might--"

    I'd finally had enough.  I reached out and turned off his vocal subroutines with a few quick commands.   Then I whirled back to face Tom, leaning in close.  "If you find it so difficult to be my friend, then why keep trying?" I snapped irritably.

    "That's a good question."  He straightened up.  "I think I'll stop wasting my time."  Then he was gone.

    I stared off at him, a retort on my lips.  Fine!  If he was going to just give up like that, I didn't want him around me.  Satisfied with my decision, I turned back to see what the Doctor thought of Paris' little display.

    The Doctor glared at me, holding out the arm with the mobile emitter.  I rolled my eyes, seriously debating whether or not to turn his voice back on.

    He might start accusing me of being hostile.

    I am NOT HOSTILE!

*      *      *

    Using the Doctor's newly programmed eyes--the best use for him so far, I thought--we walked around the compound, looking for another portal.  After about half an hour, the Doctor sighed.  "Lieutenant, I haven't seen any sign of a portal.  Frankly, I'm getting tired of this."

    "Holograms don't get tired."   I gave him a little shove as I turned his head back to face the wall near us.  "Keep looking."

    We walked by Paris and Tuvok, who were holding what looked like very crudely constructed phasers.  I gave Tom a little smirk...

    ...And nearly ran into the Doctor's back.  "What now?"

    "There's a portal," he said, smiling.  "Right in front of me."

    "Captain!" I called over my shoulder, to where Janeway and the alien Jarlath were talking.  "We found something."

    We waited patiently for Janeway and Jarlath to approach.  Unfortunately, that gave Paris and Tuvok time to arrive, as well.

    "It's directly in front of me," the Doctor said.

    Janeway gestured.  "Here?"

    "Yes, right there."

    At Janeway's nod, Jarlath picked up his little device and turned it on.  Suddenly, the foliage and the wall behind it seemed to buckle inward.

    The Doctor looked suddenly very smug.  "If my scanning services are no longer required, I'll return to my medical duties."  He turned and walked away.

    Janeway stepped forward a little further, and suddenly we could see a door.  She tapped a button and it opened. Tuvok and Paris, carrying the phasers, followed her in, and I was right behind.  Jarlath reluctantly followed.

    "We can cover more ground if we split up," Janeway said.  She gestured to the corridor to my right.  "Tuvok and I will take this direction.  You three go that way.  We'll meet back here in twenty minutes."  Tom nodded and started off down the corridor the Captain had pointed to.  I marched after him, and heard Jarlath behind me.

    I wanted to do something nasty to Janeway.  She stuck me with Paris!  The arrogant pig!  I'd much rather have gone with Tuvok.  Tuvok, at least, wouldn't try to flirt with me every step of the way.

    Or call me hostile.

    After several minutes of taking right hand turns, each leading to an area darker and warmer than the last, Jarlath spoke up timidly.  "I don't think we're supposed to be in here."

    I turned and glared at him. I wanted to say, "That's exactly why we're in here!" Instead, I settled for the glare and followed Tom around yet another corner.

    "B'Elanna!"  I turned toward Tom, who was standing by what looked like a door.  "Over here."  I walked over, followed by Jarlath, and watched Tom hesitate over the control panel before finally choosing the blue button at the bottom.

    It worked.  The door slid open, revealing a dense jungle.  Fog swirled around, obscuring the details of the trees and plants.  In my periphery, I spotted another door.  I walked over to it and opened the door.

    This one revealed a red-skied world, reminiscent of Qo'noS or Mars.  A large lake or ocean stood at the base of a cliff of dwellings.  I turned to Tom, who had come to stand behind me.  "Self-contained biospheres.  Every one of them different."

    "I wonder how many there are?" he asked.

    I shrugged, closing the door and turning toward my companions.  "We know of four. What's to say there aren't forty?  Or four hundred?"

    Jarlath closed his mouth, then opened it again.  "How many people do you suppose live here?"

    "That probably depends on how many biospheres there are," Tom answered.  "If one hundred fifty live in our biosphere, and there are about one hundred biospheres, we could be talking about thousands, maybe as many as a million people."

    "And the Nyrian woman said that they'd taken over space stations and entire colonies this way," I added.  "Your people and ours, are the least of the victims."

    Suddenly, a warbling alarm went off, and red lights started to flash.  "What was that?  What did we do?" Jarlath asked nervously.

    "It wasn't me," I said.  "The Nyrians might have detected us.  Or the Captain and Tuvok."

    Tom set off down the corridor, and I followed, not sure where he was going.  "Let's go back," Jarlath whined, trailing along.

    "No!" Tom shouted.  "We gotta find the Captain and Tuvok.  They might need our help."  I didn't know whether he was brave, loyal, or just incredibly stupid.  Or if I was equally stupid for following him.

    "We have to help ourselves!" Jarlath wailed.  "This is our chance to get back to our own environment!"

    His complaining had gone too far.  "If you want to go, then go.  We're not leaving them behind."   He must have listened to me, because he stopped following.

    We had only gone another five meters down a new corridor when we heard voices.  The others were muffled, but we heard Jarlath clearly.  He was obviously smart enough to give us fair warning.  With renewed vigor, Tom and I raced away down the corridor.

    The Nyrians were close behind.   Whenever one popped into view, Tom would take a pot-shot at him.  He bought us some time as they fell back.

    We ducked into an alcove to catch our breaths.  When a Nyrian turned the corner, Tom fired at him with the phaser, the beam weak-looking.  Tom dove across the hall to my hiding place, nearly getting hit with the Nyrian fire.

    "Something's wrong with the phaser!"

    I'd dreaded this.  "Power cell's probably running out.  These aren't exactly Starfleet-issue."

    Tom nodded.  "We've got to get out of these tunnels.  There must be somewhere to hide in one of these habitats."

    Again, he charged down a hall, and I was forced to follow.  He stopped suddenly at an intersection.

    I turned to the left, remembering several intersections like this one.  I saw a door around a curve.  "Tom!"  I took off running, forcing him to follow me for a change.   It was about time he saw nothing but the back of my head.  "I think I found one!"

    I slammed to a halt in front of the door.  "Here it is," I said, opening the door.

    Kahless, God, the Tooth Fairy, somebody must have been listening to my prayers.  A wash of cold air assaulted me from this new habitat.  Unconsciously, I wrapped my arms around myself and stared out at ice.  Lots of ice.

    I hate ice, but the Nyrians hated it more, so I was willing to tolerate the cold, if it meant getting them away from us.  "Remember how we had to warm up the ship for the Nyrians?"

    Tom looked around, his eyes reflecting the cold blue of the biosphere.  "This is the last place they'll want to follow us."

    I stood there for a moment, trying to convince myself the ice wasn't so bad.  That I didn't hate the ice as much as I thought I did.

    "Stop!" a voice called.

    With a quick glance backward, Tom and I charged into the frozen landscape.

*      *      *

    I was cold.  I was so cold.  All my thoughts kept returning to hot chocolate, my grandmother's banana pancakes, and sonic showers.  I would have given a fortune in latinum just for a warm blanket.

    "Maybe coming in here wasn't such a good idea."

    "Let's hope its worse for them than it is for us," Tom answered, sounding far too cheerful for my present mood.

    I collapsed against an ice formation.  Tom started to kneel beside me, and a phaser shot whizzed over his head.  He dipped his head and turned the corner cautiously, aiming his phaser.  I grabbed his arm.

    "Careful!  That phaser's just about dead!"

    Tom nodded, took aim, and fired just above the Nyrian.  A shower of snow and rocks cascaded down, sending the alien diving for cover.  Tom and I stood and ran, not really caring where we were going.  Just so long as we got away from the Nyrians.

    Fifteen minutes later, after blindly stumbling through ice formations, I managed to gasp, "They can't last much longer.  We've got to just keep one step ahead of them."

    "We don't want to get too far away from the portal.  Maybe we should find a place to hide."

    As I nearly crashed into another wall, I nodded, turning around.  Tom touched my arm, and gestured for me to follow him.  Rubbing my hands I stumbled along as best as I could, too cold to care whether he had the lead or not.

    We got into a tunnel of sorts and sat down.  I could feel the cold seeping through my pants.  "Let me see the phaser," I mumbled, my lips and tongue feeling too heavy.  Without question, Tom handed the weapon over.  But I'd only touched a couple of buttons when I dropped the phaser.  Fortunately, Tom caught it.  "My hands are completely numb!" I gasped.

    "Here," Tom said gently, taking my hands in his own and rubbing them.  "I would have thought all that hot Klingon blood would have kept you warm."  He began to breathe on my fingers, warming my cold hands slowly and not-too unpleasantly.

    Don't even think about it, Torres, I chided myself.  This was The Pig.  "Shows how much you know about Klingons.  We have much less tolerance for cold than humans do."

    "Really?" he asked.  "I thought that was Cardassians."

    Despite my numbness, I managed to laugh a little.  "No, they just complain about it more."

    Tom stopped rubbing my hands.   "Better?"  I nodded, again taking up the phaser.

    This time, I was able to keep a hold of it.  "I think that'll amplify the power cell," I said, crossing circuits.  "Just enough for one more shot."

    A sudden gasp caught our attention.  Tom rose to stand in front of me (and who says there's no chivalry left?) as a Nyrian rounded the corner, phaser aimed.

    Suddenly, he collapsed to the ground, dead of exposure to extreme cold.  Tom turned to look at me, then shouted, "B'Elanna!"

    I whirled, aiming the phaser and firing, killing the second Nyrian before he could bring his weapon to bear.

    "Let's go!" Tom yelled, helping me up.

    Again, we ran.  This time, however, my legs were beginning to grow numb.  I tried to keep up, but stumbled and fell against the wall.  "I'm so tired," I mumbled, feeling my eyelids growing heavy.  The ice no longer seemed so hateful, so, well, cold.   I wanted to lie down and just drift off to sleep.

    "Keep moving!" Tom said, grabbing me by my shoulders.

    "No, just let me rest."  I felt my knees give way.

    Tom picked me up again.  "On your feet, Torres, that's an order!"

    I laughed.  "You can't order me.  We're the same rank."

    "I'm a Bridge officer, and I have seniority."

    "Oh, yeah, by about two days!" I retorted, feeling myself grow warm with the adrenaline of the fight.  My knees gave out again, even as I sought to lose myself in the embrace of the cold.

    "C'mon, you've been wanting to take a swing at me all week... now's your chance."  He shot me such an infuriating grin, I was tempted to hit him.

    "I know what you're trying to do..." I began, taking a step back.  My numbed legs didn't appreciate the gesture.

    Tom pulled me up by arms.  "Am I going to have to carry you?" he asked.

    "You wouldn't dare!" I growled, hot with anger.

    I suddenly realized his intent... he was making me angry to keep me warm!  I stared into his eyes, the same color as the ice formations.  He stared back: firm, unyielding, and yet somehow welcoming.

    Like ice.

    Suddenly, I loved ice.

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