Author's note: You could consider this a sort of bookend to my pre-series story Looking for Space (but you don't need to have read that story to enjoy or understand this one.). Rated T for language, and some vague discussions of violence. All the thanks go to Sareki02 and Photogirl1890 for their invaluable input while I was writing this thing. All the standard disclaimers about me not owning anything apply.
"Lieutenant Torres!" Lieutenant Commander Zahne barked. "My office! Now!"
B'Elanna Torres rolled her eyes. There were many things she liked about her job working in the Propulsion department at Starfleet's Utopia Planitia station, but her new boss was not one of them. B'Elanna was twice the engineer Zahne pretended to be, but the powers that be felt the man's inexhaustible knowledge of Starfleet regulations made up for the fact that he barely knew a plasma conduit from a phase inducer - and so he was B'Elanna's immediate superior. According to the brass, Zahne also possessed "people skills," but B'Elanna suspected that was code for "has well-placed connections." At any rate, it was clear these alleged skills didn't extend to half-Klingons - at least not half-Klingons that were smarter than he was. With a deep sigh, B'Elanna rose from her station and walked to his office.
"We've talked about this, Torres," Zahne started before B'Elanna even got all the way through the door. "You can't just make changes in a design like this without clearing them with me."
"The original design was flawed!" she said incredulously. "The impulse drive would have burned out if it was set at the previous parameters. I have to check with you before making an obviously needed correction now?"
"Yes, Lieutenant," Zahne snapped back. "Until I'm convinced you know when it's appropriate to consult with your superiors, I want all changes cleared by me. I've tried being nice about this, but that doesn't seem to be working for you."
B'Elanna bit back the retort that begged to be spat out. Nice? Is that what Zahne called the simpering, condescending tone he had used when he had first taken over the department six weeks ago? B'Elanna could think of a few other adjectives that were a lot more accurate.
"And I think calling the original design 'flawed' is overstating things a bit, don't you?" Zahne continued. Of course you think that, B'Elanna seethed in silence - the stocky, pallid man had clearly missed the problem when he did the initial review of the schematics. B'Elanna tuned out the rest of Zahne's droning nonsensical explanation for why he had been justified in rubber stamping an impulse drive that would have wiped out most of the ship if it were ever engaged. She had to use every ounce of focus she had to keep her mouth shut and her expression calm. Tuvok would be proud of her, really - she was using one of the visualization techniques he had shown her back on Voyager. Sure, she was visualizing ripping her superior officer's heart out through his chest, but whatever works, right?
"I hope you'll think about what I said, Ms. Torres." And back to condescending. Sorry, nice.
"Of course, Commander," B'Elanna said, carefully modulating her tone to be as bland as possible as she left the office, desperately missing its former occupant.
Her previous CO, Arhan Karga, would never have made an error like Zahne's. The Turkish man was not only a brilliant warp theorist, but he had an intuitive mind for engine design that B'Elanna envied. She'd learned more than she thought possible from the old man - and not only about engineering. The entire department had been devoted to him; and he even managed to get the best out of engineers B'Elanna would have given up as hopeless, with little more than an occasional mild expression of disappointment.
A few weeks into her new position, she and Tom had been having dinner, and she spent nearly twenty minutes extolling Arhan's praises. Not surprisingly, Tom had teased her about it.
"Do I need to be worried?" he said, grinning at her.
"Don't be an ass, Tom. He's nearly eighty," she said in exasperation.
Her husband only kissed her lightly on the head as he cleared their dishes away. "Looks like somebody herself found a mentor."
She had rolled her eyes at him, but had been secretly pleased. Because Tom had been right - Arhan had taken her under his wing in a way that she hadn't experienced before. Chakotay and Janeway had been mentors in their own right, to be sure, but they weren't engineers. And Arhan wasn't just a good teacher and CO - he looked out for her, too. That became even more clear three months ago, when he called her into his office to tell her his health was declining and he was finally ready to retire.
"I recommended that you take my place. Promote you to Lieutenant Commander, run the department, the whole thing. You're the best person for the job," he had said seriously.
"Thank you, sir." B'Elanna had been gratified by his trust, but also a bit confused. He was usually a genial, smiling man, and his somber tone didn't match the happy news he was giving her. She wondered if his health issues were more serious than he let on.
"They said no," he said, meeting her eyes with a steady gaze. "They said you didn't have enough leadership experience. I told them how ridiculous that was - you ran an entire engineering department on a stranded ship for seven years, for goodness' sake. But the answer was still no."
"Oh," was all B'Elanna managed as she sank into the chair in front of Arhan's desk.
"I'm sorry, B'Elanna," he said gently, reaching out to take her hand.
"Is this about the Maquis?" she said quietly, pulling it out of reach. She knew there were still plenty of people in Starfleet that disagreed with the decision that allowed most of the former rebels to retain their commissions once Voyager was back in the Alpha Quadrant. "Or do you think it's about something else?" B'Elanna could think of a whole host of possibilities. Her temper. Her Klingon heritage. Her ties to the Paris family - maybe someone thought she was benefitting from favoritism? (That would be a first.) There were many of the former Voyager crew that weren't popular with Starfleet - Seven, Chakotay. Hell, even Janeway had her detractors amongst the brass. Perhaps it was B'Elanna's continuing friendship with one of them?
"I don't know, honestly," he said. "I do know that you are one of the brightest engineers I've ever worked with. And the hardest working one, too." He reached for her hand again, and this time she let him take it. "There are a lot of institutions that would be more than happy to have you."
She stared at him. "Are you saying I should resign my commission? Is it that bad?"
"I'm saying that if Starfleet doesn't value your skills and talent they way it should - and I'm not saying for certain that they don't - you'd be right to consider other options," Arhan replied. "And you'll have my letter of support to help you."
But Utopia Planitia's facilities were state of the art. She wouldn't have access to the same level of technology at MIT or Kyoto, and she knew her personality wouldn't exactly be compatible with the culture at the Vulcan Science Academy. It would also mean uprooting her family - Miral loved her pre-school, and she felt like Tom had made enough sacrifices for her career as it was. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to prioritize her job over his own again, as he had when they'd all come to Mars.
So she'd had Arhan over for a goodbye dinner on his last day, promised to visit him and his grandkids on Earth, and kept her concerns about what he told her to herself. However, despite her husband's frequently glib demeanor, Tom could be startlingly perceptive - especially when it came to his wife. He knew that she wasn't happy after Arhan left, but she'd managed to deflect him so far. He had enough to worry about recently with his own duties for her to burden him with something else.
But this time B'Elanna knew her patience was at an end. She was tired of Zahne's close minded and condescending attitude. She was tired of having her every decision questioned by someone who couldn't even understand them. And she was tired of Starfleet. She was realizing with each passing day that the experiences she had under Janeway and Arhan were the exceptions - not the rule. The bureaucracy, the politics, the endless esoteric regulations - she was done with all of it. Clearly her decision to leave the Academy almost thirteen years ago had been the right one; now she was ready to walk away again - this time for good.
She returned to her station feeling like a weight had been lifted. All she needed to do now was tell Tom. Maybe it would be good for him, too. The 'Fleet had been sending him off planet more and more, and she suspected there was something about his new posting that wasn't sitting well. It wouldn't be easy for any of them, but they'd figure it out. Being together was the important thing, after all, no matter where they were.
Once back at her desk, she noted her console blinking indicating a waiting message. She hoped it was her husband telling her he was coming home early - she and Miral both missed him when he had to go off world, and now that she'd made the decision, she didn't feel like waiting until tomorrow to tell him how miserable she was and that it was time for her to move on.
When she pulled up the message, though, she saw that it wasn't from Tom, but his father. And as soon as Owen's face appeared on the screen, B'Elanna knew something was wrong.
"B'Elanna, contact me as soon as you get this. Something's happened to Tom."
