September 2371
"Already impressing the captain, huh, Torres? See - I knew this could be a good fit for you."
B'Elanna smiled as she thought of how Jora had greeted her at this morning's engineering briefing. She couldn't think of another time a commanding officer had had anything but criticism for her. Even Carey had given her a polite nod when they'd passed each other in the corridor.
And now Captain Janeway had asked to meet with B'Elanna one on one. As she stood outside the ready room waiting for admittance, she chastised herself for her nervousness. For once, she knew she wasn't in trouble - what was there to be worried about?
"Enter," Janeway's throaty voice called.
"You wanted to see me, Captain?" B'Elanna asked after stepping into the office. She assumed an attention stance as an afterthought.
"Please, Ensign," Janeway waved her over to join her at the couch. "Have a seat. Tea?"
B'Elanna sat. She looked down at the dainty beflowered cup she'd accepted automatically and tried to hide her disgust. Tea always just looked like dirty water to her. "Thank you, Captain."
"B'Elanna," the older woman started, then paused. "Am I pronouncing that correctly?"
Well, no. But considering my Starfleet career depends on you, B'Elanna thought, you're pronouncing it just fine. "Yes, ma'am."
"I'm looking forward to seeing how your suggested sensor modifications work out later today," the captain continued, smiling at her. "Really, it's an inspired idea."
B'Elanna forced herself to smile back. "Thank you." This was getting weird. Starship captains didn't call low-level engineers into their ready rooms to compliment them on a single good idea.
"You're probably wondering why I wanted to speak to you, " Janeway said, leaning towards her.
Well, duh. "Yes, Captain."
"You're familiar with our mission."
B'Elanna looked at the older woman. It wasn't a simple statement, she realized. Was it some kind of test? "Of course. We're going to extract a Starfleet operative embedded in the Maquis and hopefully apprehend some of the resistance members as well."
Janeway's steady gaze seemed to be studying her. "The resistance, Ensign? I feel like that term implies they have justification for what they're doing. As I'm sure you're aware, Starfleet considers them a terrorist organization."
Clearly she was right about this being a test. B'Elanna hadn't put much thought into her phrasing, but if Janeway was concerned that she was sympathetic to the Maquis cause, she wasn't entirely wrong. It was frankly abhorrent to the engineer that the Federation thought it was OK to trade away people's homes without consulting them like they were so many pawns on a chessboard. Why shouldn't they fight back? Honestly, if a few things were different, she could see herself joining up. She'd tried to talk to her parents about it once, but John had shushed her so quickly and thoroughly you would have thought stating a hypothetical amounted to full on treason. Despite what her father seemed to think sometimes, though, she wasn't an idiot - Janeway didn't need to know any of this.
"Yes, of course. I didn't mean to imply anything by my word choice. I fully support Starfleet's position on the Maquis," she said. Quite diplomatically, she thought - her father would have been proud. Maybe.
"I'm glad to hear that, B'Elanna," Janeway continued, standing now. "Because I'm hoping you can help us."
B'Elanna wondered if all conversations with Janeway would feel like she was three steps behind. How could an engineer possibly help capture Maquis insurgents? Aside from keeping the ship running, that is? "What do you need, Captain?"
The older woman was staring out her viewport now, still sipping her tea. "I've heard that you are - or were - close to the Paris family. Specifically Tom Paris. I'm sure you're aware he deserted and joined the Maquis? It was all over the newsfeeds last year."
B'Elanna tried to suppress a sudden feeling of queasiness. That's what this was about? Janeway thought she was a Maquis sympathizer because of her ex-boyfriend? Her career was now suddenly on the line because of someone she dated five years ago? "Captain," she said, trying not to sound too defensive, "I promise you - I haven't seen Tom since before he joined the Maquis. The last time we spoke was over a year ago."
Janeway turned then and sat down next to B'Elanna on the low couch. "Don't worry, B'Elanna," she said, placing her hand over the half-Klingon's, "I'm not accusing you of anything. I know it's been a long time since your relationship ended. I'm just hoping you can give us some insight into his character, his motivations. He's become something of a major player in the Maquis - attached to a variety of different cells - but the reports we've gotten are very conflicting."
And then Janeway proceeded to rattle off a list of words that didn't sound anything like the man she used to know. Mercenary. Volatile. Drunk. Reckless. Violent. B'Elanna listened to the intel reports in stunned silence.
"We've tried to speak to the Paris family," Janeway said. "But unfortunately they've closed ranks. Julia told our officers that she won't do anything to assist in the detainment of her son, and the rest of the family has followed her lead."
B'Elanna looked up when she realized Janeway hadn't spoken for a long moment. The look on her CO's face was distant. Pensive. "Captain?"
Janeway looked up, a slight grimace on her face. "My apologies. You see, I served under Owen Paris some years ago. He was something of a mentor to me." She paused, staring into the delicate cup she cradled between her hands. "It was only because of his actions that I wasn't taken prisoner by the Cardassians. I almost certainly owe him my life."
B'Elanna hesitated before she responded. "Was that when he was captured?"
The older woman nodded. "You know what happened to him, then?"
"I…" she started, thinking to explain how much she knew. How the Tom she'd known had been devoted to Owen Paris. How he had agonized over the best way to care for his ailing father and had sacrificed so many of his own desires and ambitions to help his family. But what would that accomplish? It sounded as if that man might not even exist anymore. So she answered with a simple, "Yes."
"Then you understand," Janeway said, a hard line to her mouth now, "how despicable I find his son's actions. For the son of Owen Paris - a man who dedicated his whole life to Starfleet, the Federation - for him to reject everything his father stood for... His sacrifices…" She took a deep breath. "I want him in my brig, Ensign."
B'Elanna could only shake her head. "I'm sorry, Captain. If there was anything helpful I could tell you… But nothing you've said sounds like the Tom I knew."
Janeway stood again, moving to the lower level of her ready room. "Well, it was something of a long shot," she said, her tone resigned. She smiled at B'Elanna again. "I suppose I should count my blessings that you've turned out to be an asset to the engineering department anyway."
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," B'Elanna said, her eyebrows furrowed. Except as soon as the words left her mouth, she did understand. Everything Jora had told her - that she remembered her from the Herschel, that she'd been impressed by her work at the Academy - it had nothing to with why she was on Voyager. She was only on Voyager because she had once dated a member of the Maquis. Of course. I could never get a posting like this on my own fucking merit. She replaced her still-full tea cup on the tray with a loud clatter, splashing its contents on the captain's low table, and stood. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance, Captain. Am I dismissed?"
Janeway cocked her head at her, her forehead creasing. "Is something wrong, Ensign?"
"No, ma'am," she said, staring fixedly at a point just beyond Janeway's right shoulder.
The captain's expression softened. "I think I understand. Sit, B'Elanna. Please."
She took her seat again, but this time remained perched on the edge of the cushion, her spine ramrod straight. She certainly didn't pick up her stupid tea cup. Janeway joined her back on the couch.
"You have to realize that your performance record isn't exactly pleasurable reading," she started.
"Yes, Captain," she replied as she studied the drops of tea pooling on the surface of the table.
"If you're assuming that your connection to Tom Paris is a large part of the reason you got this posting... I'm not going to lie to you - you're right. It's very important to me that we accomplish this mission, B'Elanna - both to get my security officer back and to stop the Maquis. I am going to use every possible tool at my disposal and I won't apologize for that," Janeway stated, her tone brooking no dissent.
B'Elanna tried to contain a snort of disgust. She was only partially successful.
"But that doesn't take away from the fact that Commander Jora wanted you in her engine room," Janeway said more gently.
B'Elanna looked up at that and met her CO's eyes.
"She lobbied quite vigorously for you," the captain continued, "to the point of being annoying. And that's saying a lot, really. I'm normally very fond of her." Janeway smiled. "She was the one that dug up your past relationship - being Betazoid, she knew that it would be the thing that convinced me it was worth taking a chance on you. I'm hoping you prove her right. You've made a good start."
B'Elanna's jaw worked as she considered her response. She was still angry, she couldn't deny it. But she thought of something her mother, of all people, had once told her. Destroying an empire to win a war is no victory. And ending a battle to save an empire is no defeat. B'Elanna had been livid at the time - fourteen years old, her high school parrises squares coach insisting she play rear sweep instead of forward in favor of an older but inferior player. B'Elanna had stormed home from practice, telling her mother she was going to quit in protest.
Miral had listened to her complain for a long while before calmly sharing the Klingon proverb with her, then asking, "How will your 'protest' prove to your coach he is in error?"
B'Elanna had stayed on the team and had been moved to the forward position only two weeks into the season.
"I hope I prove her right, too," she finally said to Janeway.
"Glad to hear it," the captain said as she stood. "We should be entering the Badlands in less than an hour. Why don't you head down to engineering and see if you have any other brilliant ideas once we get there?"
"Aye, Captain," B'Elanna replied smartly, jumping to her feet. "And thank you."
A/N: Fun fact! I named B'Elanna and Jora's former ship the Herschel for Caroline Herschel - a German astronomer who was the first woman paid for her contribution to science (at least according to Wikipedia...)