Colonization 101
author: Juli17
Spoiler: It is the EMH's turn to plan and carry out Voyager's yearly emergency simulation.
Prologue:
B'Elanna walked through Sickbay, deserted and silent except for the humming of standby systems. She strode into the doctor's office, where she found her husband's attention focused on the desk console. He was using a manual targeting device to move objects around on the screen, though she couldn't quite make out from her altered view exactly what those objects were. She watched his quick, jerky motions and the frown of intense concentration on his face for several moments before she spoke.
"Tom."
Tom jumped up from the doctor's chair. "B'Elanna..." He moved around the desk, looking at her with concern. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm feeling fine," she assured him. She patted the small swell of her belly. "We both are."
"Good." Tom looked relieved, then a little confused. "Is something else wrong?"
"Does something have to be wrong for me to stop by and see you?" B'Elanna asked. "I'm actually on a break right now."
"Really? So things are going well in Engineering?"
B'Elanna smiled at the hopeful look in his eyes. "There are still a few minor repairs to be finished, but Engineering is basically back to normal."
"Does this mean I'll get to see my wife tonight, instead of her falling into bed and passing out as soon as she gets home? Not that you don't look beautiful unconscious, mind you."
"That's flattering to know," B'Elanna said dryly. With all the repair work to be done on Voyager after the damage by the Borg drones and then the confrontation with the Trefla, lately she'd gone straight to bed two nights out of three. Half of the time Tom was already there trying to get some sleep himself after a double shift. She knew he worried about her working so much, among other things, but she hadn't had any choice. "It looks pretty quiet here."
"There've been no patients at all today. That's a first in over a month."
B'Elanna heard the relief in Tom's voice. He'd spent whatever time he could be spared from the bridge helping the doctor with the injuries after the Borg attacks, and then helping deliver a cure to the disconnected drones on the Trefla. If they never saw a Borg cube again it would be too soon, though she didn't count on them being so lucky. "So, where is the doctor, and what are you doing?" She reached past Tom as she spoke, and turned the screen so she could see it. She stared at the odd diagram of interconnected channels that had some sort of small semicircular icons moving through them, gobbling up little dots in their wake-a geometric representation of nanoprobes at work in the immune system, perhaps? "Is this some sort of research?"
"Uh, well..."
B'Elanna's eyebrows rose as a small banana appeared and began to move through one of the channels. She revised her assessment; it must represent the digestive system-
"Actually, it's a game."
B'Elanna turned and stared at Tom. "A...game?"
"It's one of the earliest computerized video games from the twentieth century. It's called PacMan. It's a fascinating piece of historical-"
"Of course it is," B'Elanna interjected. She was familiar enough with her husband's boundless fascination with the twentieth century to know when to cut him off. "So this is what you do when you're covering for the doctor-play computer games?"
"Hey!" Tom protested. "I already updated the last files the doctor left for me. These old two-dimensional video games were great for improving eye-hand coordination and keeping reflexes sharp, something critical to a pilot's performance."
"Ah, so this is strictly a training application."
Tom grinned. "Exactly. With no patients at the moment, I had to find something useful to do with my time." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Of course, if you *are* in need of a highly qualified medic, my expert services are available."
"Are they?" B'Elanna trailed a finger over his chest. "And just what sort of expert services does a 'highly qualified medic' provide?"
"That depends. Where does it hurt?"
B'Elanna laughed. "That's a pathetic line, Tom. Generally I'd get you for that, but I'm feeling a little too sweet- natured at the moment."
Tom's lips quirked. "Hmm. So I've noticed."
"Enjoy it because it won't last." The doctor had said the odd placidity she'd recently been feeling was a temporary effect-from her Klingon hormones no less-and would wear off by her sixth month.
"I know. I already miss scraping shields with you."
She smiled. "You do?" She slipped her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard, just to prove there would still be plenty of scraping shields ahead for them. Tom's arms tightened around her and she sighed as he nuzzled her neck.
"I miss you period, B'Elanna. Hell, these days we're lucky if we get to eat dinner together once a week, and it's been almost that long since we did anything but sleep in our bed."
"I know. But this probably isn't the right place to address that issue."
"The supply closet has a lock, remember? It worked out pretty well for us last time."
B'Elanna smirked. "As I recall you ended up with several bruises, and it took us nearly an hour to put back everything that fell off the shelves." It had also been during the third shift, when Tom had worked a lot of those shifts after his month in the brig. Right after, in fact, so that probably explained why she'd been so willing to forgo caution.
Tom grinned impudently. "I'm willing to take the chance."
B'Elanna shook her head. "I have to be back in Engineering in less than ten minutes." She groaned as Tom's fingers trailed over her spine in caressing strokes and drifted lower. He knew it drove her wild when he was gentle, but she steeled herself as his lips brushed hers. "Tonight I promise we'll make the time-"
"Ah, Lieutenant Paris. I see you're keeping yourself busy."
B'Elanna pulled away from Tom as the doctor strode into his office. She hadn't even heard him enter Sickbay.
"Back from the holodeck so soon, Doc?" Tom asked.
"Have I interrupted a patient consult? Or was that a new method of treatment?"
"I was performing a massage," Tom said, not missing a beat. "Pregnancy puts a lot of stress on the lower back."
"Indeed, it does. However, your hands were several centimeters below the lieutenant's lower back. Perhaps a remedial course in anatomy would be helpful. Lieutenant Torres, if you are experiencing back pain-"
"My back is fine!" B'Elanna said sharply.
"Excellent." The doctor shifted his attention to the PADD he was holding. "Then I can continue working on my plans for the annual emergency procedures drill. I'm sure you recall that it is my turn to organize it this year. I've just been refining my holoprogram."
B'Elanna had completely forgotten about the annual drill. With the events of the past few weeks, she suspected everyone else had too. "Your drill is a holodeck program?"
"I believe two years ago your drill took place on the holodeck."
"Well, I was hardly going to eject the *real* warp core and reinstall it," B'Elanna said. "It was a standard training simulation already on file."
"So, why do you need the holodeck, Doc?" Tom asked. "Releasing some sort of virulent holographic plague for us to contain?"
The doctor waved his hand dismissively. "We've contained enough real plagues already. I decided my drill should focus on something a little more challenging; a situation for which we've never adequately prepared ourselves. It will give the crew the opportunity to call on skills they haven't fully utilized on Voyager, and learn a few new ones that could be vital should we ever face this particular situation."
B'Elanna thought it sounded like something that was going to interfere with her work, but Tom said, obviously intrigued, "Sounds interesting."
"Since it's not convenient for us to land on a class M planet for several days, I've created one. In fact, it's ready and waiting."
Tom looked at B'Elanna and she shrugged. He took the bait. "Ready and waiting for what?"
"For habitation, of course." The doctor beamed. "I'm calling my version of the annual emergency procedures drill 'Colonization 101'."