50.
Tom's enjoyment of coffee the next morning was reduced to a few sips and a steady tracing of the mug's lip with his fingers. Sitting in the lounge over his half-eaten toast and eggs, he found his stare locked on the viewport, the stars zipping gratefully by.
And I was anxious to get to Velir.
Not that he cursed it now, either. Indeed, he had been honest about his offer to release her, just that lately, he hadn't been thinking about running the Guerdon without B'Elanna on it. In just nine months, she was that much at home on their ship, a part of their lives...his life. He at least believed they'd become good friends, looking out for each other, confiding in each other. Having realized he had begun to feel more than that, he had considered taking it a step further, had their life there eventually managed some resemblance of normality.
Naturally, his timing was still lousy. By the time he realized that he would like to and could manage taking it a step further, he was in no position to test the waters with her without looking like an idiot-or worse, desperate. They'd been too busy and too off schedule for him to make any honest attempts after they got back from their journey on the Liberty. Their station visits had been cut short, too, so even just getting a meal together wasn't an option.
Not that she seemed inclined to a friendly date lately. More than before, she was brusque and purposefully busy, and lately had a problem with looking him in the eyes until she absolutely needed to. Probably still getting past her problems on the Liberty on top of playing catch up with the ship and the never ending need for parts, he surmised, and so he didn't press her into anything. Instead, he had planned to try to lure her into something social during the two-day layover at Ulinas, see if they might repeat the few downtime excursions they'd shared. There was a great park-side café in Ulinas' capital city he remembered from a couple years ago. He had a feeling she'd have liked it.
Guess I'll have to find something more productive to do while we're there, he resolved with a sigh.
Not that it mattered anymore. A base job on Velir was about the best thing that could happen in every way, especially of late. She should use her talents, that amazing ability to build and deduce and solve. And it didn't mean they'd never meet again. The Guerdon stopped there almost every run.
He had a feeling they wouldn't meet, though. Business sucked people up like that. It was just nice to think about visiting. It made everyone feel better in the mean time.
Blowing a curse under his breath as he shook himself away from the view, Tom got up and dumped his plate and mug into the reclamator. Coming into the corridor and hearing the echoes of the engine room to his right, he turned to look into the sound. I haven't been shot or punched this month, he resolved sardonically, I needed something to keep me honest...not that B'Elanna's not helping out, there.
She insisted she hadn't accepted the position, but she was too smart to turn something like that down. She'd accept it, once she got over feeling bad for leaving, maybe burned a couple bridges along the way. Unlike everyone else, she'd get somewhere in life...
"Or she'd better," he mumbled.
"Morning, Tom!" Ridge piped as he passed with an armful of isolinear connections.
Tom stared at the pile. "Please don't tell me-"
"No," Ridge laughed. "Just off to storage with these. Need something?"
"Just having a walk before I sit down for the day," Tom told him. "B'Elanna around?"
"Yeah, she's back on the accelerator grid."
"Thanks." Digging his hands into his pockets, he passed behind the main console wall and down the row of vertical pylons to the middle of the engine room, where the stout little warp drive-that-could pumped and thrummed. Behind that was accelerator control, an open space around which the plasma injectors and flow regulators, coolant assembly and driver coils were housed. Since her first days on the ship, B'Elanna had been busied with those systems, he remembered with a flicker of a grin. He wondered if anyone had serviced that ship as well as she had since its maiden flight.
She happened to glance up from her work before he could say anything, and she stared up at him until he was a couple meters away. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes seemed to search him for a moment before she blinked and asked, "Is there a problem?"
"Just coming to see what's up," he answered. "I was about to hit the bridge."
She shrugged. "If nothing blows out today, I shouldn't need you. I'm just working on this injector problem."
"Have you figured out where the problem's coming from?"
"I'm getting there," she said, nodding at the accelerator. "I think the lines might need replacing. Temperature control is fluctuating and the ODN isn't picking it up every time it should, so the plasma flow isn't stable."
"Not something we'd like to happen on a large scale."
"No, that kind of breach wouldn't make a good day at work," she replied.
"So the PIS isn't regulating the flow from the warp generator into the accelerator."
"And the safety protocols clamp down every time the temperature spikes-"
"Which causes a backup in the PIS-"
"And makes the warp drive hiccup-"
"And drops us out of warp."
She grinned, resetting the frequency on her hyperspanner even as she glanced his way. "You're getting better at this."
He eyed her. "Yeah, maybe I can be the one to replace you."
"You're not that good," B'Elanna rejoined.
"Too bad you won't be around to teach me."
"I can recommend a tutelage file or two, if you're up to the kinds with no pictures."
"Not even an arrow and bull's eye?" Tom asked with mock complaint. "How will I get past 'turn off ship before beginning repair?'"
"That, Captain, would be your problem." Her smile disappearing, she fished through her toolkit and peered under an access rod. "But I should get this problem solved if I ever plan to jump ship. It's not something you want to deal with between here and Minjau. I'll let you know how it goes or if I need more help."
He took it for all it meant. "I look forward to it," he told her, more smoothly than he meant to at first. But seeing her back on task and moving around to the coolant valves, he said no more as he turned to head forward again. Yeah, that was enough punishment to hold me off until Ulinas, he smirked to himself as he swerved around a bulkhead to get over to the starboard ladder.
He stopped, however, when he heard the whine, like a balloon squealing air. Stepping backwards a pace to peek back into accelerator control, he saw B'Elanna tapping on her tricorder and preparing to bend into the main coolant control housing.
Suddenly, it burst: White steam surged from the central line and hit the engineer dead on. Thrown across the deck, B'Elanna hit an opposite pylon with a familiar crack before landing on the floor, wincing in pain and holding her arm.
Tom leapt to her in four long strides without blinking and was on a knee beside her before she could roll onto her unhurt side. Cupping her head in his hand, he quickly looked her over. Immediately, he could tell she was masterfully trying to get her breath back into her. Klingons were just amazing that way, he was reminded. A throw like that would have taken at least a couple of his ribs and likely knocked him out, but in only seconds, she looked to be recovering. Ice crystals on her hip and side were quickly melting, as well.
Her eyes darted to the assembly. "Lock it down, Tom," she rasped, "the manual control."
Tom nodded and jumped over to the unit to finish what she was about to do. Careful to stand aside of the fried housing, he glanced over the many exposed pieces for a moment, then found the knob arm and turned it. Letting his breath go as he saw the lights go from flashing yellow to a safe blue, he turned to address B'Elanna again when another whine of pressure began to build. "Damn," he hissed and slid around to the main console there. Tapping into the correct system, he switched into the secondaries and locked down the remaining primary coolant injectors.
"With any luck," he said as he watched the system regulate, "the secondaries won't blow until we get out of the room." He returned to B'Elanna's side. Touching her hair again, he offered an appreciative smile. "How are we doing on that law of averages, anyway?"
She coughed a little laugh. "Maybe you're better at this than I thought," she conceded.
"I had to do a lot more of that kind of thing before you came around," he reminded her. "You're the one who changed the room rules when I left you to it."
Her smile faltering, she said nothing to that, only grunted when he gently got his arms behind her and helped her to her feet. Careful to let her check her stability first, Tom led her out.
An hour later, Tom came back into Savan's lab to check how things were going. He knew, of course, that she'd be fine, but he was feeling very weak about his impulses with her since she'd unloaded her news. Stepping into that back room, he got about what he'd expected, too: Savan was patiently preparing an instrument, while a similar expression to the Vulcan's was plastered on the engineer's face, a steady frown and a glassy stare, which turned to him as Savan approached her.
"Should I leave again?" he queried.
"She's almost done," B'Elanna said shortly.
"The damage will soon be repaired for the time being," the Vulcan confirmed.
Tom asked B'Elanna with another look.
"Savan says I'll need a professional treatment on Ulinas," she supplied.
He was surprised to hear it. "Was it that bad?"
"No, it wasn't."
"It is the repeated damage which concerns me," Savan informed him as she moved the regenerator over the break for the third time. "B'Elanna's physiology has been a great benefit with this repeated break. Only to a point, however. She requires specialized treatment to fully restore the bone and tendon's strength."
Tom nodded. "Go ahead and do it, B'Elanna," he told her. "Savan'll make you relieved to jump ship if you don't follow her treatment advice." He snorted. "Hell, you might not wait until we're in orbit."
"I'm already thinking about that," she snapped. Not only had she been there forever and forced to endure the woman's lecture, but she wasn't quite ready to explain her plans, and Tom had effectively started the news without her permission. Maybe it was just a slip, but he seemed already sold on the idea when she hadn't even contacted Jilibrar yet. When Savan closed her regenerator kit, B'Elanna slid from the table to her feet, flexed her hand and nodded at her. "Thanks. I'll be fixing the coolant systems. How far from Ulinas are we?"
"A few more days," Tom told her. "I'll shoot you an estimate when I get back on the-"
"Forty-two hours," Savan told them from her console.
"What she said," Tom grinned.
"That should be enough time," B'Elanna nodded briskly. "I'll grab Nadrev and start now. We have the parts." With that, she moved quickly out of the lab and turned sharply for the center corridor.
Tom blinked, regarding the hole in the air she'd left behind. "Was it something I said?"
Savan did not look back at him. "Very likely."
When the viewscreen flickered on and he saw his old friend, Tom couldn't make himself not stare. It was all too familiar.
Rather than the crisp, yellow interior and brightly blinking panels of the Casiat, he easily recognized the smoke stains on the bulkheads and holes in the wall where panels had been removed. In the middle of all that was Dejin, looking very much her usual self in dress and posture, but notably tired and decidedly cross. She obviously knew they were seeing her damaged state for the first time, which had to add embarrassment to the mess of negativity she was enduring. Rather than looking cool and in control, Dejin's life was plainly not that, and there was no way to hide it.
Seeing she was not going to make the first move, Tom leaned back in his seat and cast his gaze askance. "So how was your day, dear?"
Against her will, the Betazoid laughed. She gestured at her bridge. "Just redecorating. I'd long been thinking about a lovely shade of black, but it's not quite there, yet."
"It'd go with your lovely eyes," he replied with mock adoration, then sighed through his smile. "Yeah, I know, Dejin. We've been there."
"And I can't hold this channel long before it's tagged," she told him.
He nodded. "We'll be paid at Ulinas and need some parts I know you regularly stock."
"Nothing's been regular lately," she frowned. "What's on the list?"
"Internal sensor pallets, a part-spread and installation gear; a PTC distal arm bracket and injector coils, among some other small parts."
Dejin tapped it all down and read quickly. "I've got nothing in the injector department," she told him. "But the sensor pallets and the brackets I do have. Are these the same ones B'Elanna had before?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, then we have that."
"We'll work out the price when we meet. How's that sound?"
"Good. I don't feel like dealing today." She tapped quickly again on her panel and threw a trajectory onto the viewscreen. "How about there? Two light years off the Hanolan System?"
"Smack dab between Ulinas and Irtrin," Tom nodded, plotting the course in. "Tucked in the rocks. Perfect. We have a day layover at Ulinas, which means we can rendezvous with you in five days."
"My warp drive is puttering. I might be late for that."
Tom resisted expressing his sympathies. Dejin was already pissed off; reminding her she was applicable for sympathy wouldn't do her any good. "A one-plus layover at Ulinas, then. I'll contact you again when we're ready to leave and find you wherever you are."
"Thank you," Dejin said meaningfully.
"Take care of yourself, Dejin," Tom told her before the channel was cut. When the screen blackened and he heard the beep to confirm the channel was off, he blew a breath. "I'll remember that the next time I'm up for feeling sorry for myself."
Maryl sighed her agreement. "I never thought I'd see her dragged down like that."
"Everything's prey to change lately," Tom quietly replied as he dumped their transmission record, then set his ship back onto its original heading.
Ridge smacked the hatch button as soon as they arrived at the loading bay. As the gangway squealed and lowered to the Ulinas dock's tarmac, he put his arm around his wife and breathed the air, looked around at the busy base center before them. "Land at last," he sighed happily and looked down at her. "It's almost like old times, how well this run's gone."
Maryl snorted. "Relatively."
He conceded with a chuckle. "Yeah. Guess so."
"And you know the run's not over yet," she reminded him. "There's plenty of time for things to go wrong."
He laughed and started them down the gangway. "I think sometimes, Hana, that you curse the world to make sure you won't be disappointed."
"It works for me," she grinned and leaned into his arm as they turned for the main building.
Coming out after them, Tom watched as they disappeared among the rivulets of base denizens, visitors and traders. Maryl was off to collect their pay, Ridge going to arrange the offloading of the bio-material they'd brought from Ibaten, the two moved swiftly, anxious to have their work done before taking their pre-arranged leave to the mountains. Aside from it being their fifteenth anniversary, Tom knew they didn't have much else to do until their small purchases came in, plus he thought they had both earned a nice break. He personally arranged for their lodgings and to pick up Ridge's shift with Nadrev's help.
Leaning against the strut, Tom leaned his head back a little and drank in the sun. If there was one thing Tom honestly missed about being stuck on a ship, it was for the lack of sun and fresh air.
What I wouldn't do for a holodeck, he mused, possibly for the hundredth time. He sighed, knowing the likelihood of ever attaining that particular and power-draining luxury was farther away than ever now. But then he shrugged and told himself to stop doing that-also possibly for the hundredth time.
Ulinas' Aj-Asaro Landing Docks were the most commonly used docks among the traders. The Guerdon always landed on that side of the base, except the last time they were there, thanks to the Fidlor Group. Tom knew every knob on that side of the base by then. Like everywhere else, though, changes had been made in response to the latest security issues. A couple nearby attacks and a few captured Maquis had sent a panic through that quiet, diverse world. As a result, security throughout the capital had been ramped up, with native forces deployed to every section of the trade station and no trader or deal going unexamined. Having seen similar responses on all his stops that month, Tom wasn't surprised when he was contacted by base security and was told he would have to sign for his visitor, though the man was a resident of Ulinas and had arranged his trip a week with the local authorities a week ago.
"We can't be too careful these days, Captain," the security officer assured him. "As you know, having seen personally what the Maquis can do."
"You really are thorough," Tom acknowledged.
"We have had to be, to protect our people and our business."
"And as always, we appreciate you many efforts, Officer Gafirsu," Tom replied dryly and pushed himself to stand. He'd be passing B'Elanna on the way down. He'd tell her, then get going on his own plans for that afternoon.
Ten minutes later, Tom reached out and pressed his thumb to the PADD accept his engineer's father aboard his ship. "Thanks," he told the officer, waiting until he had moved away to add, "for looking in all the wrong places." Then he looked at John Torres, who stood with about the same look on his face as was there the last time Tom had seen him. "But I guess if it makes them feel better..." Shrugging, he shook John's hand in greeting and jerked his thumb towards the innards of his ship. When John was all the way in, he pushed the button to close the hatch. "I'll take you up."
John almost tripped for staring around at the bay they entered. "Thank you, Captain Paris," he said quietly, then darted his stare back down to the man before him. "I overheard your conversation with Gafirsu. I take it you've been attacked by the Maquis, too?"
"There isn't a ship on the border who hasn't," Tom replied. "We managed to survive it."
John followed Tom to the ladders before speaking again. "B'Elanna's said nothing about any trouble."
"She's had enough of fixing the damage. I don't blame her for not wanting to relive it, even in a letter. With any luck, though, she won't have to anymore."
"What do you mean by that?"
Tom sawed his teeth together, slumping slightly. That was the second time he had done that, and he suddenly realized he was trying to make the idea commonplace so it wouldn't hurt so damned much. He was coming to know himself too well-well enough to know, too, that the tactic would ultimately fail. "Ask B'Elanna," he finally said and started them up the ladders, knowing she'd be pissed at him for good by day's end.
She didn't force down the smile that found her as she exited the medical facility, flexing her hand and rolling her shoulder. She hated to admit it sometimes, but Savan was rarely wrong. Her arm felt like it had never endured a bump, but rather was strong, warm and ready to pick up something to eat. Walking over to her father, who had patiently waited the hour it took for the doctors to work on her, her smile held without effort, to her surprise. It was good to see him.
"How about dinner, then?" she asked. "It's early, I know..."
"I know a great place for just such a meal," John told her, falling beside his daughter to lead her out of the clinic. "They have interesting salads and savory bread wraps that could pass for a whole meal. Very good food."
"Sounds great." B'Elanna slid her hands into her pockets and matched his pace, relishing in the warmth that greeted them as they exited the building and set off down the city's main avenue.
Indeed, the day had improved greatly. She'd rather been full of dread when Tom breezed through in the middle of her diagnostics and told her that her father was on his way.
Though put off, she hadn't expected the flush of nervousness she felt when Tom led the man into her engine room. She felt her shoulders all but meet her ears and her mouth press down. It was still weird to see him at all. Seeing him in her workplace almost felt like an invasion...and it was a little embarrassing, too, considering the condition of the space. Her nerves unchecked, she pointedly told him that she'd hoped to meet him after her appointment. He admitted that he was anxious to see her again, and he apologized, too, for disturbing her.
"I can go away a while," he offered, "until you're ready to go."
B'Elanna grudgingly shrugged, despite the chill his kindness inspired. His going away was not something she thought of pleasantly. Realizing this managed to calm her, though, re-focus her attention. "I have to leave in fifteen minutes to the Biaadral Medical Facility to get my arm re-mended," she told him, wiping her hands on her vest before removing it. Staring into her father's eyes, seeing the same, steady longing in them, she sighed to herself and thought quickly. "If you don't mind waiting, you could show me how to get there."
John smiled. "I know exactly where it is," he said. Thinking a moment longer on her destination, he asked, "What happened to your arm that you would need a corrective procedure?"
"It's a long story, not worth repeating," she dismissed and led the way out with a gesture to Nadrev, who moved to finish running her numbers.
She did not look back at Tom, who had begun a diagnostic nearby and was all but burning a hole in the back of her head. She knew he had to be.
Worse than looking back was not knowing what was going on behind it. Then again, he'd been outwardly supportive of her mending her relationship with her estranged father. Maybe he was thinking about that, how far they seemed to have come. And indeed, they had, she knew with a good deal of satisfaction. Uncomfortable as it had been at first-and probably always would be when they approached certain topics-she really thought they were making progress.
So maybe that was what Tom was thinking. She was content to believe that, particularly while sitting on a table with doctors circling and nothing else to do but stare at the lights. Her imagination didn't need to go any further.
She'd had enough Paris-related imagination the night before.
"Penny for your thoughts."
Blinking, B'Elanna glanced over at her father, who gazed at her askance, truly curious but ready, it seemed, to back off upon her word. He stood not six centimeters taller than she was, boots included, and she remembered that he and her mother were nearly the same height.
"Or maybe I should say credit?" he smiled.
"I'll take latinum, thanks," she returned, only half joking.
He chuckled. "A few slips, then, for whatever might be on your mind."
She shrugged. "I was thinking about how strange it felt to be here with you. I'm not used to it, yet."
"I'm still adjusting to reality, too," John nodded. "Strange...but good, though, I hope?"
"Yes," she quietly affirmed. "It's good, too."
With that, she turned with him into a side street and looked at where he gestured, an open-air café along a flowery park and violet blue river. Just a nook in the middle of that city, with quiet conversation among the diners and the occasional chatter of birds, it was possibly the most inviting thing she'd seen outside her work in as long as she could remember. Smiling and giving her father a nod, she let him escort her the rest of the way.
True to her father's words, the food was very good-or maybe she was just very hungry. Probably both, as she breezed through a very large fruit and green salad and a full serving of cheese wraps, enjoying a glass of faux berry wine on the side. She hadn't thought about tearing into the replicator again any time soon, but she was tempted to ask for the molecular breakdown of both dishes. Off to the side, the wide river bubbled and rippled, sending the occasional cooling breeze their way-not cold, but enough to ease the warm afternoon sun. She always forgot after long stretches in space what planetary life was like.
As though he'd read her mind, John said softly, "It's a little like Kessik here, isn't it?"
She blinked. "I'd thought the same about the Jetad Province when we were there, probably even more." Her lips turned slightly up. "When we were there, I realized that I actually missed home a little, though I didn't want to."
"It is a beautiful place-Jetad. Good people." Eyeing her thoughtful stare, seeing it drift far away once again, John leaned back in his seat and folded his napkin. "May I ask you something?" he finally queried. Seeing his daughter's silent assent, he continued, "Captain Paris told me you might not have to worry about fixing the ship soon, and he told me to ask you what he meant by that. Are you leaving?"
B'Elanna sighed. "Damn him. He just can't keep his mouth shut."
"He seemed a little uneasy about it," John clarified. "I don't think he meant to say anything."
"It doesn't keep him quiet, though," she responded. "I think he's more excited for me than I am." With that, she explained the offer to work at Velir Prime to her father, and that she still had not decided. She made certain to emphasize that-though with her ire piqued, she felt once again that she might decide there and then-after pitching Tom out an airlock. "It's a big move," she finished. "I'd like to make sure it's the right one before asking to have my contract voided."
"What would be wrong about it?" John asked enthusiastically. "Your captain is obviously thinking about your welfare; he's right to be excited for you." He nodded to confirm his statement when her gaze darted to his again. "It's a great opportunity, B'Elanna, a stable position in a clean and safe environment. I know the Velir base. They have extra programs and training facilities that as an employee, you'd have full access to at no charge. Their advance rate is very good. Velir itself isn't very exciting. Most staff there travel offworld a great deal because of it. But going there would be a wonderful direction for you, I'm sure."
"I don't know if I'm ready for that, though," she admitted.
"Why should you feel the need to be held back, B'Elanna? "
She shook her head, biting down her first answer to that. "Part of me doesn't like leaving them in a lurch. They got me in a lurch and I remember what the systems looked like. I don't like delivering that right back to them."
"Maybe you could help them recruit? Or train one of your techs to take over for you?"
"We don't have the time for that."
"Yes, you're right." He paused. "Well, I know they're your friends and you care about what happens to them, but honestly, they survived before you, and though they've benefited greatly by having you there, they'll survive if you leave. If your captain is supportive and you believe it's a good fit, nothing should stop you from taking what's best for you."
B'Elanna held his assured stare for several seconds, then finally nodded and leaned back in her seat. "I'll make my decision when the Guerdon docks at Irtrin. That's when I told Jilibrar to expect my answer."
"You'll have thought it out a lot by then," John nodded and dropped it. Looking around the table, he reached for the decanter of wine. "Would you like some more, B'Elanna?"
Her lips turned up. Not only was she glad he was ready to move on to another topic, she realized how that simple gesture wore well on her-how much all of it was. Another glass of wine and a nice dinner on base, like anyone anywhere, a father and a daughter sharing some time. She still felt strange, a little out of body, about being there with him, but she knew she could get used to that sort of...normalcy. Maybe a little stability would be worth the pain of cutting her ties with the Guerdon. And maybe she was more ready for a steadier lifestyle than she thought before. Maybe it was indeed time to move on.
"Yes, thank you."
"Double up and lay down your credits, good men... Dice up!"
"Masha! Double up, double up!"
It never changed, he knew, the same sight, the same smells, a base, a dock, a bar somewhere wiping the drudge of a long run away, if only for a while.
"The dice are up again!"
"Taggir! Another on!"
Then again, it had changed, because he stood before it yet again and dreaded going in there for all his weakness and knowing he was feeling down, knowing he had things to deal with that he didn't quite want to.
He was going to lose her, when he was just latching onto the reality of having fallen for her. Too much too late and a usual slap of bad luck-but if he cared at all for her, he would never, never let her know he hated the idea of her destination. Rather, he at least would do what he could for her and the ship all before she left-a little something to help her leave with her conscience in tact. He suspected she wouldn't like leaving unfinished work behind her. It was worth revisiting that old haunt.
You'll go in and you'll order water-no, seltzer water. It's no big deal. You don't want to drink. You want credits. Easy as that.
Oddly enough, it was easy as that. Unlike the last time he'd stared in that window, he wasn't looking for an out or an escape.
Still, this time, he knew that B'Elanna couldn't show up and save his ass if he screwed up.
"Another on, friends! -Die down! Yes, yes! Another on!
Drawing a deep breath, Tom propelled himself into the bar, swerving around the hostess with an easy grin and a gesture forward. Immediately, he found the bartender, who smiled at him and pulled up a glass. Even after a year and hundreds of other customers, the man still knew what kind of tumbler to pull. That alone earned a good tip.
"Just a carbonated water, Kivrom," Tom told him and smiled with frighteningly automatic affect when the man's reaction questioned the young captain's very identity. "Yes, you heard right. Carbonated water." Leaning up on the bar as the puzzled bartender got what he wanted, he asked, "Anyone on the table today?"
"We've got a new self-proclaimed hobbyist," smiled Kivrom as he slid the clear, bubbling glass across. "He'll be off shift soon."
"Thanks. I'll just be having this today, then, all right? Doctor's orders."
The man laughed. "Oh, so that's what it is! Payback for all the crates you helped me unload."
"Well, in truth, it's a little more than that." Tom popped a small stack of credits back.
Two hours later, Tom slipped a fifth stack of chips back into his palm and sank them into his pocket. "Another round, Eddaf-Itto?" The young officer laughed. "Let's have a break, shall we?"
Tom smiled and nodded. He could afford a healthy break by then. Setting his stick down, he motioned to the waiter and handed him his glass. Breathing with satisfaction, he glanced over at his friendly opponent. Seemingly unafraid to shell out his entire ration of credits-obviously, the kid worked for Starfleet and didn't need money-he'd still not been too very easy to beat. The Ulinian had some certain talent, making Tom's wins more fun than he could remember. Being able to take his pick at the supply depot, thus achieving his goal for the day, he'd been able to relax and even chat a little, too.
He leaned back and smiled again when his refilled glass came back to him. "So, what department are you in Eddaf-Itto? -Oh, sorry. This day and age, I shouldn't ask that."
"I'm not in any security position," the younger man shrugged. "I'm only in requisitions."
Better and better, "Must be nice," he commented, sipping his water. "Steady job, good hours."
"It kept me from leaving Ulinas," Eddaf-Itto admitted pleasantly. "I was thinking of Starfleet in my last year of school, but then I was accepted into the training program here."
"Worked out great then, didn't it?" Tom returned then drew another sip. Blinking, he sipped once more, then set the glass down, breathed as all-too familiar warmth flowed through his abdomen and into his limbs. That wasn't seltzer, and his gut was already rejecting it. "Shit," he hissed, closing his eyes.
Eddaf-Itto came around the table to Tom's side. "Are you unwell, Paris?"
Tom shook his head at first, then turned his stare toward the bar. Geddtra was pouring the drinks, and like Kivrom, she had obviously remembered his usual. Kivrom was probably on a break. "I think I need to..." Then the drink really hit his gut. "Oh God. Get me outside-out the back if you know-know where that is."
"I do," the young man quickly assured him and helped Tom out by the arm. Getting down the rear hall in less than a half-minute, they passed Kivrom coming back in. The bartender instantly turned back around and got Tom's other arm as his knees started to fail him.
Tom dragged for breath and tried with all his might to hold it down until they got him through the rear of the building. His hands and legs shook and his vision blurred-his whole body both heated and recoiled in a way he had never experienced. Tom stumbled on-five more meters, then three, then one. When the back doors were open, he fell across the alley and onto his knees, retching until he was doubled over, hacking out every milliliter of the drink, the water and likely everything he'd eaten in the last week. The more he vomited, the more his stomach seemed to produce. Coughing, gagging, it started again, and he meanwhile fought to keep his elbows locked. They jiggled and he rocked, but he managed to stay above it as it began a third time.
Behind him, he heard Eddaf-Itto say there was a doctor back in the lounge. Kivrom hurried in to get him.
Finally calming, falling back on his heels, emptied, sore, exhausted and still a little dizzy, Tom coughed a laugh despite it all. Any other place-any other dom-jot player-would have left him there to rot after a good fleecing-if they'd have taken him out at all. "My luck can't be that bad, then," he rasped, checking his humiliation, if anything. Spitting a couple times, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he turned a bleary stare back to a visibly shocked Eddaf-Itto. "Thanks."
"Do you think you're very ill?" the young man asked. "Should I take you to the facility nearby?"
And meet B'Elanna there reeking of puke. Great. "No," he muttered, his eyes narrowing to think more of it, put a few more pieces together and realize... Damn you, Madsi. I know that had to be you, you bastard. Letting Eddaf-Itto help him back to his feet, he did not hesitate to take the bench by the back door. He still hardly felt like he was in his body, except behind his eyes, which were swollen and throbbing.
A minute later, the doctor came out, markedly unhappy to have been pulled from his time off to see after a drunk, or so it seemed until Tom explained what had been done to him some months ago and what he suspected was the reason for his sudden illness. Waving a tricorder over the captain's midsection, the doctor nodded.
"Yes, Captain, you have an implant which prohibits the absorption of alcohol. In short, you're allergic to it."
"Yeah, and I think someone mixed me something besides water." Leaning back, Tom snorted. "The first time I'm able to get it right and I get a sip of a screwup. I can't win."
"You've not regressed since the procedure?" the doctor queried, still tapping at the tricorder as it picked up more data.
"Almost, but no," Tom answered. "I didn't' even know for sure if the doc had injected anything-though I thought he might."
The doctor's lips turned up. "Then that's a benefit, Captain Paris. Seems to me you passed his test." His smile grew when Tom looked up to him once again, questioning. "You didn't regress. Think about it, Captain. In the mean time, I have my medkit inside. Stay here, and I'll regulate your blood pressure and treat the remaining effects of this reaction. Then perhaps you two can finish your game."
Tom shook his head. "No, doc, I think I'm done for the day," he said, more thoughtfully then. "Thanks."
Eddaf-Itto sat by him. "May I help you spend your credits, then?" he asked. "I happen to recall your ship has a parts request on file."
Tom closed his eyes, chuckling to himself. "Better and better," he breathed, at first in disbelief, and then knowing the doctor had a point. His mouth tasted of acid and his head was pounding, but he had swerved temptation-and despite his gloomy start that day, he hadn't even thought about drowning his feelings. Indeed, it was slowly dawning on him that this time, it really was different.
Maybe he was ready for that change. Maybe that wasn't the only one.
It was worth considering, at least.
"Merry Christmas!"
B'Elanna turned her stare up from her readouts and found Tom striding past the warp core and around to her. "It's not here again yet...or did it come yet?"
He laughed. "Just an expression." He held out an inventory slip.
She did not take it. "What's this?"
"Courtesy of Eddaf-Itto," he grinned, gratefully feeling his smile as he pressed the slip into her small hand. It had been a long while since he'd cleaned a table. Maybe feeling low and obsessive really can lead me in the right direction, he thought wryly. "I had everything transported to the control room," he continued, leaning against the brace beside B'Elanna's panel. "It's not a full set, but he couldn't find any more. He's having a buddy track down Dejin for me with their big scanners to make up the difference."
B'Elanna stared down at the slip and read the contents: Primary plasma injector coils, including all the installation lines and duranium support brackets. Peering up at him, she did not try to hide her surprise at the parts and his liveliness, the like she'd not seen since the last time they were on Ulinas. "Who did you shark this time?" she slowly queried.
"Does it matter?"
She shrugged. "Probably not."
"Wish you'd been there?" he teased, leaning towards her.
"Definitely not," she replied. "I don't like games, remember?"
"I got you hooked on rummy." He took another step closer. "I'll get you to the dom jot table one of these days. It's only a matter of time."
She pursed her lips into a crooked smile as she glanced over the progress. "According to your daily reminders, you don't have much of that."
"You assume you'll be done with me after you're gone and living amongst the washed and well off," he returned in a beat.
"You assume we'll ever have time for any of that."
"I'm willing to make it if you are."
"I might be busy."
"I'll wait."
B'Elanna's breath caught.
She suddenly realized that he was standing at the corner of the control panel and looking directly down at her. Their noses would touch with a half step closer. She could feel his breath, his heat, his energy. His light blue eyes were sure and intent in hers as he returned her every move-challenging her, making her respond to him. Why am I letting this happen again? her mind screamed as she felt herself leaning on her toes.
But then, she breathed, remembering he always got a little excited and playfully intense when he was in "win mode."
And you want him there, she told herself before she could shut the thought down.
"The control room?" she said briskly, shutting down her station. "I'll have a look at them."
Jerked out of their repartee, Tom blinked. "Okay."
Moving around him, she quickly left him standing at the station, following her with his eyes as she disappeared. Only when she was gone, standing in the hole she'd yet again left in her wake, did his brow furrow and his mind turn it over properly that time.
Tom stood there for nearly a minute, in fact, locked in on her point of exit, knowing for certain that Savan nailed it-that it was what he'd said, and what he did, and had been doing. It was him. He might have been along the wayside for the better part of his twenties, but he'd been around the block enough times to sense a positive hit. Even so, he suddenly had to wonder how long she'd been attracted to him. In a moment, he had already ticked off a handful of events that showed her hand. In another moment, he knew why B'Elanna was leaving, leaving him in that room, leaving the Guerdon and shutting the door hard behind her.
His chest panged, and he forced a deep breath into it to slow his heart.
"Damn," he whispered bitterly.
