AN: I want to thank everyone who took the time and effort to read, favourite or review. I know a few of you want the background between Tom and B'Elanna. It starts with this chapter and is revealed one crumb at a time. I hope you enjoy.
Stardate 48308.8
Part Four: A Little History.
"Our food dispensers are right this way," the Ocampa medic, known as Jal, indicated as the strangers emerged from the hospital building.
It seemed Jal had been appointed as their personal guide. Instead of sharing a meal, Jal took Tom and B'Elanna on a tour, explaining the layout and culture of the Ocampa city. As Tom could have predicted, B'Elanna didn't let the man get more than a few steps ahead of her. Listening to every word, she stored the information, trying to make sense of her new environment and analyse it for any weaknesses she could exploit later. Tom, lagging behind, watched the interaction between B'Elanna and Jal with interest. The new arrivals gathered quite an audience. His sense of survival no less finely honed, Tom picked up on facets of the conversation, and feelings from the crowd that B'Elanna missed.
"We're underground," Tom stated, looking up into the unmoving sky beyond the transparent roof. It had taken time to understand the vista was only an image.
"Our society is subterranean," Jal agreed, leading them to a balcony that displayed long pools of water forming plaza's within an enormous cave system. "We've lived in this cavern for over five hundred generations."
"But before that," B'Elanna jumped on the topic, "you lived on the surface?"
The group of Ocampa surrounding them appeared eager to hear Jal explain their long and complexed history with the Caretaker. It seemed the god like deity sent imprecise images that the elders interpreted, placing their own meaning on the pictures. The same Devine being also provided the power and water to allow the Ocampa to survive in this unnatural environment.
"I'm curious," Tom tried to keep the sarcasm from his tone. "How do you explain the Caretaker's reason for sending us here?"
"We believe he must have separated you from your own species for their protection," Jal said. This statement elicited a look of some significance between Tom and B'Elanna. "From time to time, he asks us to care for people. It's the least we can do."
"There have been others?" B'Elanna eagerly asked, "Like us?"
"Not exactly," the man hesitated, looking between the pair and the crowd. Moving them into a more isolated area, he finally continued his thoughts. "Often it is only an individual. On occasion, when two or three are sent, they are always of the same species, and similar in looks to the Ocampa. All suffered with disease and their condition was very serious. We don't know exactly how to treat the plague, for we Ocampa are immune to its ravage. I'm afraid the others did not recover."
"Neither B'Elanna nor I are sick," Tom injected into the conversation, holding his curiosity at bay. One look at Torres, and he knew she felt as physically fit as he did.
"True," Jal turned contemplative. "I do not know why the Caretaker has sent you. But then, the Caretaker has never sent us two from different species at the same time, nor a mated pair."
"How do you know," B'Elanna almost choked, "we're married?"
"Married?" Questioned their guide, "is that what your people call a mated pair?"
"B'Elanna," Tom sighed, remembering the moment as if it was printed on his mind with indelible ink, "and I met six years ago."
"More like you ran into me, Flyboy," she retorted, folding her arms defensively across her chest, "in your newly promoted Lieutenants uniform, spilling the contents of my box, and everything I owned, all over the floor."
"Hey," Tom cried, allowing his expression to become teasing. It had always gotten under B'Elanna's skin in the past, and disguised his own emotional insecurities. "I helped you pick up all that stuff, move the rest of your gear and took you out for a meal afterwards to say sorry."
"Some nocturnal entertainment, you mean," B'Elanna snorted, raising her chin to glare up at the insufferable man. "Just so you didn't have to go and visit the Admiral."
Letting out a harsh laugh, Tom reminded the irate woman, "some nocturnal entertainment. We lasted until I shipped out a month later." Truth be told, he had four weeks furlough between assignments and lacked an excuse not to visit his family. B'Elanna provided that excuse, in the beginning. Then, no matter how good they'd been together, or how much Tom begged, she'd refused to consider following a career officer from one Starfleet base to another. "You weren't complaining then, B'Elanna."
"Like I had anyone to complain to," she returned. He'd been her only confident and companion after exiting the academy. Showering her with understanding and attention, B'Elanna revelled in it, as only an egocentric nineteen year old could. Unable to return home, friendless and with nothing but her engineering skills to support her, she almost broken down and agreed to follow him.
"My wife," Tom announced the word clearly and carefully to the confused man watching them, "decided to quit Starfleet and join the Maquis. Not that we were married then."
"I'm not the only one who decided to quit Starfleet, Flyboy," B'Elanna responded angrily.
"True," Tom rolled his eyes. He hated remembering that time in his life. Then, B'Elanna knew how to get under his skin as well as he could get under her's. "Let's just say that our lives held a lot of similarities back then."
Snorting once again, B'Elanna shook her head at his audacity. More like insurmountable differences, she thought. A secret smile stole across her face. Well that's not entirely true. You proved to be the only human male able to keep up with my nocturnal activities. That's why I stayed for the entire month, I thought I'd finally found someone to trust, who wouldn't let me down and who understood my anger at everything and everyone. But like everyone else you left. That though didn't sit well. B'Elanna knew Tom had wanted her to go with him. The truth is I left you before you could hurt me! Then you came back into my life a few years later, a little less cocky but more damaged. Suddenly I was the one to offer understanding and sympathy. Not that it stopped me taking up with you, biting you on the cheek and stupidly agreeing to get married when you suggested it. Chakotay almost killed the pair of us when he found out we were a couple. I hate to think what he would have said, or done if he knew of our marriage.
"And found ourselves both working for the Maquis," Tom continued as if the half Klingon part of B'Elanna hadn't interrupted.
Somewhat confused, Jal watched on. The interaction between the bonded pair seemed overly hostile. His people rarely spoke in anger towards each other, and never between mates. These strangers were very different in almost every way to his people.
"Ocampa mate for life," Jal injected into the conversation, more than a little confused. "Once we reach our time, a woman undergoes the elogium, selecting the father for her only offspring. Soon after a child in conceived and born."
"Wait," Tom suddenly picked up on the odd mating practice. Looking around, he noticed the number of empty seats before the Caretaker's wall. Now that he thought about it, this entire complex seemed rather, empty. "You only have one child. How do you sustain your population?"
"We do not," Jal responded sadly, a wondrous expression suddenly appearing on his face. "You have more than a single child for each mated pair?"
"B'Elanna is an only child," Tom responded. "I have three sisters."
"Why are your children not with you?" Jal asked. "Six years, I cannot believe you have known each other for so long without producing offspring."
"You have got to be joking," B'Elanna almost shouted. Closing her eyes and attempting to control her temper, she explained in a growl, "Flyboy and I don't have children."
"Your could say," Tom interrupted before his wife could say more, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, "we haven't gotten around to that, yet."
"Then you have not yet gone through your elogium?" Requested the confused gentleman as he turned to face B'Elanna. Jal's mind raced, wondering at the differences between their species and if this could be the reason for the Caretaker sending a mated pair. They had known each other six years and still appeared very young, young enough to beget offspring.
"Every month," Tom ground out, rolling his eyes.
B'Elanna's glare could have killed with its intensity.
"I do not understand," Jal could not hide his surprise.
"Maybe," B'Elanna managed to get the words out between gritted teeth, "you not suppose to."
With that, she stalked off to cool down before she completely lost control of her Klingon temper. Her husband might have seen it up close and personal on several occasions, but that didn't mean she needed to expose their captors to it.
"Let her go," Tom made sure he spoke loud enough for the angry woman to hear.
"You will not go after her," discomposed, Jal didn't know what to make of these strangers.
Rubbing his cheek, Tom shook his head. "Something you'll learn about B'Elanna, when she needs space, you'd better get out of her way."