Starbase 174, New Technologies Design Lab

"Commander Torres, please report to my office."

B'Elanna could feel the eyes of her engineering team on her as she carefully set down the micro-resonator she was holding. She tapped her com badge. "I'm on my way."

"Do you think he's mad about the Andorian freighter?" one of her crew, Ensign Harding, whispered nervously.

"Of course not," B'Elanna responded, trying to mask her annoyance.

"Maybe if you explain to him that we – "

"Ensign," she interrupted, "finish your work and keep the speculation to a minimum, okay?" Harding nodded, and B'Elanna walked out of the lab toward the turbolift. She paused by the com panel in the corridor. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris," she instructed quietly.

"Lieutenant Paris is in his quarters."

"Thank you." B'Elanna stepped inside the turbolift. As soon as the door closed, she tapped her com badge again. "Torres to Paris."

"Go ahead."

"I've been summoned again."

"Oh no," came the reply. "The Andorian freighter?"

"I don't know. He didn't say."

"Just keep your cool and remember your last evaluation," Tom advised.

B'Elanna leaned her head against the wall of the turbolift. "Let's see. What was it he said? 'Extremely capable but with managerial weaknesses'?"

"He did not say you were a weak manager," Tom corrected. "He said –"

"Gotta go. Torres out," she interrupted as the turbolift door opened onto the station's main operations center. B'Elanna nodded to two officers working at a nearby console as she passed them on her way to the commander's office.

When he called her in, B'Elanna took three small steps across the threshold. It wasn't that Commander Beoro was particularly frightening or that they didn't get along. It was just the fourth time she'd been called to his office in two weeks, and she knew him well enough to know that if he had good news, he would have come to the design lab to tell her in person.

"You wanted to see me, Commander?"

"Sit down, Torres. I just received an interesting message from Captain Klees of the Enterprise. It seems his chief engineer just got promoted to first officer of the Kansas City, and Klees' engineering team is going to be a little light until a new department head can be named."

Beoro paused then, and B'Elanna assumed he was waiting for a response. "Well, I suppose we could spare five or six people from the maintenance and repair crews," she offered.

"No one from the design team?"

"With all due respect, Commander, designing and testing new systems is completely different than managing the day-to-day problems of a ship."

"I see." Beoro steepled his fingers. "Torres, Captain Klees doesn't want anyone from your maintenance team."

"Well, he's not getting anyone from the design team," B'Elanna insisted more forcefully. "I don't care if he is the captain of the flagship."

"He doesn't want your design team," Beoro explained. "He wants you. Well, he's considering you."

"Me? For what?"

"Chief engineer."

B'Elanna burst into laughter but caught herself when she saw how serious the commander was.

"He's going to want to talk to you," he continued. "And he needs a formal recommendation from me. Anything in particular you'd like me to say?"

"Uh…"

Dokkara 6

Chakotay shielded his eyes with his hands as he surveyed the excavation site. Four of his students were mapping out the search grid while the rest waited to be assigned a partner and a section to dig through. They were gathered at the perimeter of the site, watching him, waiting for instruction.

"All right," he reminded them as he approached, "remember that these are sacred ruins, and without meaning to, you could easily violate them." He held up a small metal tool. "Use this to dig through the dirt." He held up his hand next. "And use this to claim any artifacts you find. Nothing else, got it?"

"Professor," one of the young men said with a slight whine, "wouldn't this go much faster if we just scanned the area? We could still use our hands to retrieve any artifacts."

"Scanning would be a violation of the Dokkaran religious doctrine," Chakotay reminded him with some annoyance. "We covered this in the lecture last week."

"Why are hands and shovels any better?" a female student standing next to him challenged. "We're still violating the site."

"Because the Dokkarans believe technology interferes with transcendence. But if the hand comes upon something, it's because it's meant to be. If we're meant to find any artifacts, it has to be with hands." He sighed and threw his hands on hips. "Look, everybody, if you don't like the rules, you can wait in the shuttle until the rest of us are finished. Understood?" The students nodded slightly but didn't look overly enthusiastic.

Chakotay himself wasn't enthusiastic about this particular project. He was reasonably certain they'd go home empty-handed, which wasn't as much a problem to him as was the fact that the excavation offered little chance of actually increasing anything they knew about ancient Dokkaran culture. In truth, he knew, his students were right. They could have flown over the moon, run a few sensor scans, and been on their way home in less than an hour. As it was, they'd spent two hours laying out the search grid and were likely to spend another three or four searching their individual sections. He probably wouldn't get home until quite late.

Well, nothing more interesting happening at home anyway.

One of the students responsible for the search grid, a sophomore with spiky brown hair whom he thought was named Shelnya, came toward them and nodded at him.

"All right, people, here are your assignments," he began. He rattled off a list of names and squares on the grid and noticed that Shelnya was still loitering. "Who's your partner?"

"I don't have one. There are seventeen of us," she reminded him.

"In that case, you can come with me to search that hill over there." He pointed off in the distance. "See that rock formation? That should indicate burial grounds."

As they headed away from the excavation site, Sheldon leaned closer to him and said quietly, "Once we get over the hill, are you going to take out that Starfleet tricorder you're carrying?"

"How did you know I have a tricorder?" he asked, taken aback.

She grinned. "I have my methods." There was a slight pause before she continued, "Professor, do you really believe in all this 'no technology' mumbo-jumbo?"

Chakotay couldn't help smiling slightly at her directness. One thing he'd learned over the past three years was that university students might have been legal adults, but they seldom acted like it. "I think it's important to respect the traditions and beliefs of whatever culture we're learning about. If we didn't, we wouldn't really be studying them. We'd just be studying what we wanted them to be, based on our own beliefs."

"That makes sense," she said. "I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

Her sincerity made him decide to throw her a bone. "But honestly? I think this time the rules might be going a little too far."

"So why have us jump through all these hoops?"

Chakotay winked. "I have a reputation to protect."

Starbase 174, Torres-Paris Family Quarters

"Miral, come here for a second," Tom called. His daughter tottered into her bedroom. "Hey," he said, stooping to her level, "look at all these toys on the floor. How did they get there?"

Miral shrugged and put on an innocent face.

Tom knew he was supposed to be stern, but he also knew he was a sucker. He smiled and took her hand in his. "Mommy's going to be home soon, and she's not going to be happy to see this mess."

"What should we do?" Miral whispered.

"You know how tired you are when you get home from school?" Miral nodded. "That's how Mommy feels when she comes home from being on duty."

"She's too tired to pick up toys!"

"That's right, munchkin. So we should pick them up and surprise her. Then she'll be really happy." To demonstrate his point, Tom picked up a building block emblazoned with a letter of the Klingon alphabet and handed it to Miral. She ran across the room and dropped it into her toy box.

B'Elanna came home a few hours later to immaculate quarters. She found Tom and Miral reading a book together on Miral's bed. "It looks pretty good in here," she called from the doorway.

"Mommy!" Miral slid off the bed and ran to her mother, who scooped her up and kissed her heartily on the cheek before resting her on her hip.

"Hey," Tom said, greeting her with a kiss of his own. "How was the meeting with Beoro?"

"Well, I have some interesting news," B'Elanna reported mysteriously. "I'll tell you all about it over dinner. I'm starving. Are you two hungry?"

"I'm hungry!" Miral said.

They went into the common area, and Tom settled Miral into a chair at the table while B'Elanna replicated dinner. As she set the dishes on the table, Tom waited patiently for a play-by-play of the meeting.

"So?" he prompted finally.

"So he asked me if I'd consider a career move." She paused for effect, taking a long sip of water. "To chief engineer." Another pause. "Of the Enterprise."

Tom choked a little on his tomato soup. "The Enterprise? Are you kidding me?"

B'Elanna's eyes narrowed involuntarily. "You don't have to be so surprised."

"Oh, I didn't mean it that way," he assured her quickly. "It's just that…"

"That I used to be on the Federation's most wanted list?"

"Something like that," he answered carefully.

"Well, I was as stunned as you are," she admitted. "But Beoro said that when the charges against the Maquis were and when we were reinstated, Starfleet was being sincere. We shouldn't expect any different treatment."

"Wow."

"Apparently, there are three other candidates, one of whom is currently the second in command there, so I'm sure I won't get it," she added hastily. "It's probably not even worth talking about."

"Still, B'Elanna, even being considered is big…" Tom was watching her face carefully, and he could sense she didn't want any premature congratulations. But he was proud of her, and he needed her to know it.

Earth, San Francisco, Starfleet Headquarters, Office of Admiral Kathryn Janeway

"Jenny Delaney got a position on Deep Space Two," Janeway said over a sip of coffee. "She just sent me a message last week. Magnus Rollins is there, you know."

"Are they still together?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his own coffee. "I never would have guessed they'd last that long."

"I expect we'll be hearing news about a wedding any day now," Janeway predicted. "Oh, and Pablo Baytart got a promotion."

Harry nodded. "Ayala told me."

"How is he doing?"

Harry shook his head slightly. "He's still having trouble finding a position, but his ex-wife is letting him see his sons a lot more, so that makes him happy."

"I wish he'd stayed in Starfleet," Janeway said truthfully. "I could have helped him resettle better if he had. My name doesn't carry much weight in the civilian world." She held up a hand before Harry could protest. "I know, I know. Moving on was the right decision for him – for a lot of them – but it's my fault they were all lost in space for seven years, and I wish there was more I could do now to help them out."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate just hearing that," Harry said quietly. He took another drink of coffee.

"Have you heard from Tom and B'Elanna lately?"

Harry shook his head. "Sure, we talk every day, but there's nothing new in their lives. Miral's learning to read Klingon."

"That's great," Janeway said with a genuine smile. "I guess they're hard at work on Starbase 174 as always?" She looked at him carefully, wondering if he knew anything about B'Elanna's possible promotion and her reaction to it.

"I guess so."

She surmised that B'Elanna hadn't said to him anything yet. She probably decided not to say anything in case she doesn't get it. But how did she convince Tom to keep quiet? "Harry," she said, changing subjects, "do you want to be my date to a reception at the Bolian embassy on Friday?"

"Your date?"

"Ordinarily I'd ask the Doctor, but he's passionately involved with some dancer, and Reg is on assignment off-world. We're both married to Starfleet, right? Who better to be my date?"

Her voice was so light and casual that Harry felt terrible declining. He also felt terrible to be leaving her alone in the "married to the job" department. "I'm sorry, Admiral, I actually have plans all weekend."

"Oh?"

Harry felt himself blushing slightly. "Libby, my girlfr – uh, the woman I've been seeing – we're going to spend the weekend in Fiji."

"When did you start seeing someone?" Janeway asked with genuine curiosity.

"It's been a little over a month," Harry calculated. He set his mug of coffee down on the table. "Libby is actually the girl I was dating when Voyager got lost. We talked a little after we returned, but then we ran into each other on the street about a month ago, and…"

"And you've been seeing each other ever since," she finished. "You've reconnected with a long-lost love, hmm?"

Harry felt a little embarrassed. "You could say that." She patted his knee affectionately, and Harry met her eyes. "Can I tell you a secret, Admiral?" She nodded. "It's getting serious."

Starbase 174, Torres-Paris Family Quarters

If they were both off-duty at 2000, which they usually were, Tom and B'Elanna had a ritual of putting Miral to bed together. B'Elanna helped her change into her pajamas and then brushed her hair. Tom tucked her in and awaited her nightly request for a story.

"Which one tonight, munchkin?"

"Captain Proton."

B'Elanna shook her head as Tom began to narrate scenes from his old Captain Proton holonovel – appropriately edited for a child. She'd heard the corny stories a hundred times. She'd even been coerced into participating a few times. It wasn't her thing. But Miral loved Captain Proton, and B'Elanna couldn't resist indulging her, especially when Miral was taking after Tom.

She realized she hadn't been paying attention. They were waiting for her to do the sound effects.

"Boom!" B'Elanna shouted. "Boom, boom!" She ticked Miral, who squealed.

"And then Captain Proton crashed into Chaotica's laboratory."

"Crash!"

"And he said…"

"'Captain Proton, spaceman extra-lair, 'courge of inner-gatatic evil, at your service,'" Miral recited.

"And he untied Buster Kincaid from the death ray and used his atomizer to stop Chaotica. He saved Earth from destruction."

Miral cheered.

"Captain Proton arrived back on Earth, and he was thanked by the President."

"Thank you," B'Elanna said in a mock deep voice, shaking Tom's hand.

"The end," Miral said, her eyes starting to close.

"The end," B'Elanna echoed.

"Good night, munchkin." Tom kissed his daughter's forehead ridges. B'Elanna followed suit, and they quietly left her room.

In their own bedroom the subject of the possible promotion came up again as they got ready for bed.

"I mean, what is it with Starfleet?" Tom griped. "We were lost for seven years. They can't give us a little time to adjust before they start flinging us all over the galaxy again?"

"Tom, we've been back for three years, and we've had the same assignment together that entire time. We got pretty lucky."

Tom climbed under the covers. "We also had a newborn and Captain Janeway pulling for us."

B'Elanna climbed in next to him. "Well, it's not worth worrying about, anyway. I can't imagine they'll give it to me. I'm lucky I was allowed to stay in Starfleet in the first place."

"You got to stay because you had proven yourself, and you're up for this position because you are one of the top engineers in the Fleet," he said seriously.

B'Elanna snorted slightly. "And someone who didn't finish the Academy and could have easily been convicted of treason."

"B'Elanna, since we've been back, you've become the most by-the-book officer I've ever seen! How many times have you thrown my reports back at me because I didn't follow protocol?"

B'Elanna thought for a minute before answering, "Four times."

"The real question is whether or not you want the Enterprise assignment."

"Of course I want it," she answered before she realized what she had said. "I love working here, with you, improving ship systems – it makes me feel really important. But running my own ship, not just planning it out on a padd and turning it over to someone else…." Her voice trailed off. "The Enterprise doesn't need a good engineer, Tom. It's the flagship. It needs a figurehead."

"Don't you think it's up to Starfleet to decide what the Enterprise needs?"

B'Elanna lay back against her pillow with a soft sigh. She could tell Tom was excited for her, and she suspected he wanted to have a real discussion about what a change of assignment would mean for their family. It was a discussion she knew they'd have to have one day – they couldn't keep the same posts forever – but she wasn't quite ready to have that conversation yet.

Tom heard the sigh and knew not to push. He knew she wanted the post. He wasn't exaggerating when he'd said she had become a model officer in the past two years. Something about maternity or matrimony, maybe, or the relative safety of not flying into hostile aliens every day – whatever it was, B'Elanna had changed a lot in the ten years he'd known her. And as for her "managerial weaknesses," well, he hadn't been present at her review, but Tom knew B'Elanna's leadership ability and Beoro's command style. He suspected the commander had suggested that she delegate more, and as the guy waiting for her at the dinner table, Tom had to agree. But that wouldn't preclude her from getting a promotion.

B'Elanna liked their joint posting – so did he – but he sometimes wondered if she missed making repairs on the fly, rather than plotting them out in technical manuals. She liked being in charge, and for B'Elanna that didn't mean command; it meant engineering, where she thought she had real power over the ship.

Tom started rubbing her shoulders, and she sat up to accommodate him. "We should figure out our plan. We're bound to have different assignments some day. What if you get the Enterprise and I'm still here?"

"You could always request a transfer," B'Elanna suggested, letting her head roll to the side as her muscles relaxed around his hands. "Or resign your commission."

Tom stopped rubbing. "And become Mr. B'Elanna Torres?"

She turned toward him sharply. "This isn't about your ego, Tom. I outrank you now, and I'm more likely to have an assignment on a family ship."

"I am making a career for myself now, too, you know," he replied with a little more hostility than he had intended. "I have a job here that I love, that lets me spend time with my daughter. And it's meaningful work."

"I know that," she retorted. "I work with you."

"Then you know that I'm just as important on this base as you are." Tom wasn't sure why he was getting angry. Most likely, it wasn't because of B'Elanna's attitude – she was just being a pragmatist – but because he was starting to feel a little jealous of her success.

"I never said you weren't important," she told him pointedly.

"You said you were more likely to have an important assignment. Meaning I am not important."

"Is this about your past?" she snapped. "Are you still self-conscious about all of that? Give me a break!"

"You're the one who's not even willing to consider that you'd get the position because you quit the Academy – which was over ten years ago!"

"All right, fine," B'Elanna snapped. "I am thinking about it. I'm excited at the possibility. Is that what you want me to admit?"

"I knew it."

"So now what?"

Tom sighed. "So now we have to figure out what this means for us."

"I'm not saying I want to move to Qo'noS and leave you behind, Tom," she said with fatigue. "We can all stay together on the Enterprise."

"So you've gone from assuming you won't get it to assuming you will?"

"Okay, that's it," B'Elanna declared, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Tom caught himself before he said something he'd regret. "I just want you to be honest with me." He put a hand on the empty space next to him, still warm from her. "Come back."

B'Elanna put her hands on her hips and stared at him angrily.

"B'Elanna…" Tom raised his eyebrows and hoped she'd be seduced.

She rolled her eyes but climbed back into bed beside him. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to flaunt my rank."

"You worked hard for that rank," he said gently.

"I'm not trying to insult you, Tom. All I meant was that because I outrank you, I'll probably have a command position sooner than you. I like it here, too, but we both know we won't be posted here forever. This might be a really good offer. The next time a new position comes along, it might not be someplace where you, Miral, and I can be together."

"You're probably right," he agreed.

"I would never take the position if you didn't want me to. You know that, right?"

"Look, B'Elanna, you know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished." Tom cupped the side of her face, and she nodded. As if to prove his point, he kissed her several times gently while he reiterated. "I am. I am so proud of you. But I really like my job here."

"I know you do," she admitted. "I wouldn't ask you to give it up."

"But you know you and Miral are my world."

"I do."

"If I never flew a ship again, I'd be okay if I had you two."

"I know," B'Elanna said, kissing him very lightly on the lips.

"But I really love flying."

"I know."