Disclaimer: Yes, Paramount still owns the Star Trek Universe, but they don't own any characters that I've made up (even if they own their parents) nor the vessel I made up. Dana Marcus is my creative product from some of the events in the novel "Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan" by Vonda N. McIntire, but is still owned by me, H. S. Hines. Saavik history derived from "The Pandora Principle" by Carolyn Clowes.
Notes: References to TNG and TOS
Genre: Angst, Drama
Rating: M
Codes: B/7
Feedback: Reviews beget more fiction!
Description: Back in the alpha quadrant and life is very different.
Issues
Chapter 2
"B'Elanna?" Tom had seen her flying out of the lounge like a bat out of hell and automatically followed. He stood outside her door, pressing the chime and calling her name. She didn't answer and he cursed under his breath. "Please, open up, B'Elanna! Don't make me call security!" He heard a muffled curse, and then the doors hissed open. He ran to where she was sitting on the floor, her upper body on the couch, shaking with sobs.
"Please, leave me alone," she choked out. Tom stood still for a moment, then walked over to her and knelt by her side.
"B'Elanna, you know I can't do that. Please, tell me what's wrong?"
"What do you care?" was the response, muffled by the cushion she had buried her face in.
"I care. Believe me, I care about you. We're friends, remember?" B'Elanna looked up at him; her eyes red-rimmed and gasped a few sobs before answering.
"I'm an idiot."
"Says who?" Tom reached out and wiped her face a little, a dull twinge of pain wrenching in his chest as he remembered when he had the privilege of touching her face all the time.
"Seven—Hansen." B'Elanna spat out, followed by a few choice curses.
"Whoa, B'Elanna. What did she say?"
"I just... told her..." B'Elanna stopped speaking to bite back several sobs.
"That you like her?" Tom asked. He wasn't as oblivious as she thought. She looked up, surprised, catching the stress on the word 'like.'
"Yeah. She... dismissed me. You can bet that I don't 'like' her anymore." Tom hugged B'Elanna, who clutched him like a security blanket and finished pouring out her emotions onto his shoulder. Tom made soothing sounds and offered broad platitudes, but knew that he couldn't heal this damage any time soon.
Half an hour later, Tom scooped B'Elanna up and carried her to her bed. He laid her down and tucked her in, anger burning through him for the suffering Seven had caused her. After dimming the lights in the room, he left her quarters and returned to the party, absent-mindedly rubbing dry his sodden shoulder.
He didn't have to look hard to find Seven; she was still in the corner she had occupied before he left, alone. He stalked up to her and waited until no one was looking, then hissed in her face.
"If you ever go near her again, you bitch, I will personally make sure that your life is a living hell. Do you understand me?" Seven slowly nodded and Tom left her alone. She didn't stay at the party any longer, but retired to her quarters after wishing Naomi luck.
She made it past the doors and to her bad, calmly and composed. As soon as she was standing over her bed, she ordered the computer to lock her door. The mattress met the floor a second later. Seven grabbed one of the pillows that she had upset and used it to cover her face. She screamed.
The pillow didn't survive very long.
Seven knelt in the destruction, panting and digging her fingernails onto her palms. For ten minutes, she sat like that, fighting the tears that she wouldn't let fall. Finally, she felt so drained that she just lay down on the mattress on the floor and fell asleep.
Two years later...
To: Samantha Wildman
USS Starship Voyager
Registry: NCC-74656
From: Naomi Wildman
Q. 8-2, Starfleet Academy
San Francisco, California
Earth, United Federation of Planets
April 17, 2381
It gets discouraging, watching all the other cadets either dropping out or failing. My grades are a steady 99 average, top of my class, but I feel as though sleep is the price I must pay for them. I haven't had a full six hours' rest since my third week here. My roommate, T'Laria, and I get along, thank the gods. She's Vulcan... well, obviously by her name. I actually knew a kid here who dropped out simply because they would not reassign him to another Quad.
Tolerance is one of the lessons we are supposed to learn. I had a hard time at first. Real surprise there, huh? There are only five Ktarians attending the Academy right now, and of them, I'm not just the only girl, but also the only one from Westside, instead of Northshore. So they all look funny to me, with their bulbous foreheads.
I've received a lot of tribulation over the "Expansion" movement back in '68. I mean, it's been thirteen years, we've become allies of the Federation and I don't understand why I should be punished for something that happened before I was even born and by the Northshore Ktarians at that!
Most of my friends are Vulcan or human. I tried to make friends with the two Klingon students, but they're a little too wild for me. I spend some time with them now and then, but for the most part, I just can't keep up! I think I'm amusing to them, but they treat me with more respect than most of the other cadets, so I guess we really are friends. They're both male and I think that Krell is kinda cute, though Dorn's teeth bother me.
I'm only a Sophomore, but I've already been invited to Red Squad, but with the scandal a few years ago, I'm not sure I want to join. T'Laria told me that my logic is sound, so I don't think I will. It'll be the first refusal in the history of the Squad.
I got your letter, Mom, and don't worry. I'm fine. Yes, I eat. No, I don't get that much sleep and you know why: you've been here. Yes, I got Nimembeh. No, he wasn't hard on me. No, I don't have a boyfriend. No, I'm not looking; I'm way too busy. Although Krell... just teasing!
Yes, Uncle Neelix, I am enjoying it here. And you know what? I miss your Leola root soup, of all things! I got the 'item' that you sent me; thanks I really missed him! T'Laria raises her damn eyebrow every time she passes my bed now, but I get a laugh out of it.
Seven, I am establishing relationships quite well; thank you for asking. Though, like I said, a lot of the school is mean, I have a large group of friends, though only a few close ones (but that's okay, I prefer it that way). No, Icheb doesn't talk to me, much. He's a Senior, after all, so he doesn't really have a lot of spare time. But, no, he isn't ignoring me and we have lunch together once a week. My extracurricular activities include xenobiological studies, hoverball and art. I tried out for the Velocity team, but I didn't even make the third team. I thought about trying parrises squares, but a kid in our quad broke his leg playing, just this week, and T'Laria talked me out of it. Bet you're all relieved to hear that. And, Seven, I hope your leg is doing better!
Doctor, yes, I'm keeping healthy. I haven't visited the infirmary once this year for anything but my check-ups. Nothing like last year's fiasco. Thanks for the holo-images of the crew, especially of Seven attempting Tom's surfing program, I got a kick out of that! Sounds like you guys still throw the best parties.
Captain, I am majoring in Science, specifically, Stellar Cartography. I'm on the Command track as well, so you know how vigorous that is! The more I study James Kirk, the more I wonder how they expect us to be like him, yet maintain and adhere to Starfleet protocols, principles and ideals. Especially the Prime Directive, which he appears to have no love of. Oh, and my minor is in exobiology.
I'm sorry I don't have time to write you each a personal letter, maybe next month! I've just got so much to do; I don't even have time for a shower tonight. And we have room checks in the morning! My side's a mess and I don't want T'Laria to get in trouble (I get into enough on my own), so I've got to clean up before I go to bed. I miss you all so much!
Love,
Cadet Naomi Wildman
To Be Continued…