Pitch

"It was a planetary survey mission. I didn't realize you were expecting a souvenir."

"Shut up and fly, Tom."

"That's what I'm attempting to do."

"Attempt harder – that mountain range is getting close in a hurry."

This is true and, to be honest, Tom isn't sure what to do about it.

.

…the day had started off so well. Off on a survey mission – alone with B'Elanna. Time by themselves, even if that time was to be spent investigating possible mineral deposits on the less than hospitable surfaces of a twin planetary system. Fiji it was not – but, as…interesting…as things had become between him and the chief engineer since their adventures on the Sakari home world, Tom hadn't been feeling particularly picky.

And their work had even taken an unexpectedly intriguing turn when B'Elanna had literally tripped over evidence of an alien civilization…

.

"Did you try that lever on the right?"

"Yes, I tried that one – and every other lever on the panel as well. As well as the pedals on the floor. No dice."

"baQa'…"

"You really need to teach me Klingon sometime. At least the interesting parts."

"Tom..."

"I know: shut up and fly."

.

the hatch that B'Elanna had stumbled upon had opened to reveal a subterranean silo housing a contraption that looked only about two steps further advanced than something out of a Jules Verne story. Tom and B'Elanna had both scrambled eagerly down into the bunker, B'Elanna heading for what looked like primitive computers lining the circular walls while Tom approached the…craft…in the silo's center.
"Tom? Come take a look at this."
Having discovered what appeared to be the vessel's access point, it had been with more than a little reluctance that Tom had torn himself away and moved to join B'Elanna. "Did you find something?"

.

.

"What's that thing to the side of you?"

"What?"

"By the back of your…chair? On the floor?"

A quick twist away from their impending mountainous doom allows Tom to locate the object of B'Elanna's interest – and a matching device on his opposite side.

"Uh, B'Elanna?"

"What?"

"I think we may have a problem."

.

.

"…it just started flashing a second ago."

Flashing red lights were rarely a good thing – no matter what alien technology they were embedded in. "Did you touch anything?"

B'Elanna had shaken her head. "I didn't even get a chance to do a tricorder scan. Maybe we triggered something when we came in?"

Tom had swept his wrist light across the dirt encrusted console to the left and right of the single, steadily pulsing light. "I'd bet this equipment hasn't been touched in at least a century. Where is it even drawing power from?"

Which was when the ground had begun to move beneath them…

.

.

"What do you mean they weren't bipedal?"

"That device is another pedal, identical to the two in front of me – and to the one on the other side behind me. And I'm betting the four of them together control the pitch."

"tojo'Qa'!"

"You really need to…"

"Shut up, Paris."

Which Tom did, though his mouth remained open in slack-jawed surprise as B'Elanna swung out of her seat and straddled his – and him.

.

.

"Well that can't be good."
B'Elanna had flicked on her tricorder. "There is a buildup of geothermal energy directly below us." Tom had watched her eyes widen. "A significant buildup." Frowning at her reading, she had looked toward the center of the silo. "Tom…"
Tom had followed her gaze to see that the exterior lights of the alien craft were now glowing brightly – and he could hear a steadily building whirling noise emanating from within the hull. "It must be powered by the geothermal energy." He had moved back to the vessel, running his hands over its hull, grinning, he was well aware, like a kid on Christmas morning.
Following him while still looking down at the tricorder, B'Elanna had nodded in agreement. "I think that's the idea, yes, but the system is malfunctioning."

"Malfunctioning how?"
"It's overloading, big time." Tom's grin had died as B'Elanna's frown deepened. "This whole structure is going to blow and take us with it."

.

.
Just fly the ship. Just fly the ship.
"OK, let's try this: I'm going to press both rear pedals while you hit both front pedals. Got it?" Tom nods, not entirely trusting his voice as B'Elanna shifts more tightly against him in order to reach both pedals. "Now!"
Tom stomps on both of his pedals as B'Elanna does the same – and the nose of the vessel responds by beginning to nudge up from its deadly descent.
Unfortunately, the craft isn't the only thing pulling up.

Shit.

.

.

"You're sure this is a good idea?"

Tom hadn't answered, instead shining his wrist light around the circular space into which they had just crawled – a space that he assumed to be the cockpit of the alien craft. The low ceiling left him almost doubled over; he had shuffled towards a squat, backless stool that was orientated towards a bank of controls and a viewport: the pilot's chair, he presumed.

"Can you even fly this thing?" B'Elanna had moved to a second 'chair', but her eyes were on the controls in front of Tom. Suddenly the craft had shuddered as the silo floor began to move more violently. Another distinct whirling sound and the vessel had begun to tilt back until the silo's open hatch came into sight through the viewport. Above Tom's head – very close above Tom's head – the vessel's ceiling had begun to glow an insistent shade of neon green.
"I think we're about to find out – hold on to something!"

Trusting a lifetime of piloting instincts, Tom had gripped a conveniently located bar tightly with one hand and then, with the other hand, pulled down hard on the largest of the control bank's levers…
.

.

"B'Elanna, I'm so sor…"

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and fly."

"Right. Shutting up and flying." Easier to say than do, but they do still need to figure out how to safely land their little souvenir. "Can you try easing up on both of your pedals just a touch? I want to see if I can get us leveled out."

"Sure." Tom can feel all too distinctly the subtle shift in her weight as she complies with his request – when did the uniform fabric become so thin anyway?
.

.

…the first minute of their ascent had seen them both intensely occupied with holding on for dear life to prevent being thrown off their stools and against cockpit's back wall by the g forces created by the rocketing craft. As the clouds in front of them began to give way to stars, Tom had finally been able to ease his grip and assess their situation.

"We seem to have some sort of life support, so that's good. We should be able to hang out in orbit until Voyager returns to the system."

B'Elanna, having pulled out a tricorder, had frowned. "Maybe…"

"'Maybe'? 'Maybe' why?"

"'Maybe' because of that."

Which was when the second planet of the binary planetary system had swung into view and their craft had again begun to pick up speed – this time downward, towards the second planet's surface…

.

"Now ease up altogether – and we're down."

Tom's eyes close in relief as the vessel settles lightly onto the second planet's surface. Lightly – but whether or not safely remains to be seen. Because he still has a certain half-Klingon chief engineer nestled snuggly on his lap.

Wait, still?

Tom opens his eyes in confusion to see that, yes, B'Elanna is still in fact astride him. Not only that, she is grinning – in relief and amusement… and maybe something else?

"Um, I think we made it." Tom offers, just in case she's waiting for the announcement to, well, disembark.

"I think we did, yes."

She's still not moving and that tone – Tom isn't sure what to do with that tone.

He tries again, "Well, that was more exciting that we were expecting."

B'Elanna chuckles – a low, throaty chuckle that does nothing to help Tom's physical predicament. "Exciting? Yes, at least for one of us, that's fairly apparent."
Tom can feel his pale skin turning a hot scarlet. "B'Elanna, I'm so sorry. If I had any…"
"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Then she's leaning in, her chest pressing against his and he can feel her breath against his lips…

:Voyager to Lieutenants Paris and Torres. Tom and B'Elanna, can you read us?:

In a single lithe movement B'Elanna is off his lap and busily examining…something… on the other wall of the cockpit.

Tom takes an extra moment to ensure that his voice will register at the correct octave before responding, "We're here – though not quite where you left us." Which, just maybe, Tom considers as he steals a glance over at his still very busy companion, is true in more ways than one.