AN: Here we are, another chapter here (if anyone wanted it).
If you missed the last one, posted earlier today, please don't forget to go and read it (and hopefully to let me know what you think about it!)
I hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think!
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Carol had witnessed a lot of fights in her life.
Unfortunately, she'd been in many fights herself. She had fought to kill many times, and she'd fought with the feeling that she'd surely be killed before the fight was over.
The brawl that was taking place in engineering, when they arrived, was one that was really unlike any that Carol had ever seen before.
It appeared that they'd cleared the place out before their arrival. When they came in, Carol could identify Daryl, the pilot that she knew as Tom—a man who had a great deal of interest in Carol and Daryl's time period, Chakotay, and the Vulcan man that they called Tuvok, and who was responsible for security.
Carol had met all of these people and had spent time in their presence.
There were two other people there—two people who were locked in a truly vicious fight—that Carol didn't know well. Even though Carol had not actually crossed paths with the half-Klingon engineer, the forehead of the woman suggested to her that B'Elanna was one of the two fighters. Daryl had mentioned her forehead. The other fighter had the pointed ears like Tuvok's, so Carol assumed he must be a Vulcan.
"What is going on here?" Kathryn demanded as soon as they'd entered the room.
"Daryl—what happened?" Carol asked, almost at the same time. Daryl's face showed the clear signs that he'd been punched at least once.
"It would appear that Ensign Vorik has issued a kunat kalifee," Tuvok offered in a steady tone of voice.
"Which is?" Kathryn asked, directing the question at Tuvok before she immediately directed another question in Daryl's direction. "Mr. Dixon—are you OK?"
Daryl muttered a "fine" and stalked a little around the space, but he hadn't yet explained what had happened or how he'd managed to end being hit.
"A part of Vulcan mating rituals," Tuvok offered. "Vulcan mating rituals are very private, however."
"Nothing is private while it's tearing apart engineering, Lieutenant Tuvok. I want information, and I want it quickly. Why haven't you separated them?"
"I tried to break 'em up," Daryl offered. "I tried to stop him…"
"As you can see, separating them is not that simple, Captain," Chakotay offered.
"It's not that complicated," Kathryn responded. "Stun them if you have to, but stop this fighting!"
"Given the nature of what's taking place," Tuvok offered, "it is recommendable that the fight be allowed to run its course."
"I assume you're going to explain that, Tuvok?" Kathryn challenged.
"As I said," Tuvok continued, "Vulcan mating rituals are usually kept private. However, they usually do not take place in so public an arena."
"He said he wanted to mate her or some shit," Daryl offered, clearly frustrated with the Vulcan's slow rendition of the story. "And she said she didn't wanna fuck him. So, he got pissed about it. Grabbed her an' she clocked the fuck outta him. He come back for more and I called Chakotay. I tried to break 'em up, but…"
Daryl fell off and looked back in the direction of the two that were fighting viciously. Carol could only describe them as fighting with actual fangs bared. Someone had torn some piece of a railing loose. Despite who had been the one to tear it loose, though, B'Elanna was the one who had come into possession of it. She wielded it as a weapon and swung at her opponent like it was the bottom of the ninth and the bases were loaded.
Carol could barely look away. She was drawn to the fight in a way that she couldn't explain. She was almost morbidly fascinated by it. She only looked away at all because, as the battle moved somewhat in their direction, she felt herself being shoved backward. It was Daryl. He had her by the shoulders and he was hauling her backward whether she intended to move or not.
"Get out their fuckin' way," Daryl said. "They'll run over you."
"It's my opinion that Ensign Vorik must be undergoing a particularly acute onset of the pon farr."
"The Vulcan need to breed," Chakotay offered as though he were reciting some information that he'd read somewhere.
"Need to breed or not," Tom Paris interjected, "B'Elanna doesn't have to breed with this guy if she doesn't want to. It doesn't matter what he needs!"
"He ain't wrong!" Daryl offered loudly. Carol was aware that—as they stood some distance from the others and from the fight, Daryl remained behind her with his arm looped around the upper part of her chest and shoulders so that he could easily tug her backward if such a thing were necessary. "You can't make her breed him—or whatever you call it. I don't care what fuckin' year it is."
Kathryn spread her arms in either direction. Carol didn't know if one could actually visibly see a headache, but she had a feeling that she could see the unmistakable evidence on Kathryn's features that she was at least developing one.
"Nobody is breeding with anybody," Kathryn said. "At least not here—and not right now. Who knows what else is happening on my ship today? Tuvok—as head of security, please split them up before they tear each other, and engineering, to pieces."
"What I was going to say, Captain," Tuvok offered, still as even-keeled as before, "is that the pon farr is fatal if the Vulcan is not able to satisfy the need."
"That's the oldest damn line in the book," Daryl offered. "And shit might be uncomfortable, but it ain't fatal."
Carol swallowed back her laughter. She didn't miss that Chakotay looked struck, as well, and even Kathryn looked amused by Daryl's assessment of the line that the need to breed was fatal once the desire struck.
"With all due respect," Tuvok said, "Vulcan physiology is vastly different than human physiology. A Vulcan must mate or fight the kunat kalifee to survive. It would appear that Ensign Vorik has issued the challenge. Now, one of them must win."
"And if he wins?" Tom asked, somewhat pacing around the invisible perimeter of the fight. He looked exactly like someone studying the gears on a machine, anxious to figure out how to get their hand in there and yank out something they wanted without losing neither their hand nor the desired object.
"Tradition would dictate that if B'Elanna wins, pon farr is broken. His fever will be purged, and she will be under no obligation to be his mate. If Ensign Vorik wins, tradition would dictate that B'Elanna should join him in marriage and become his mate."
"You can't seriously be suggesting that we allow Ensign Vorik to win the right to mate with B'Elanna," Chakotay offered, "no matter the outcome of the fight."
"Right," Tom said quickly. "She can make her own choices."
"He's right," Daryl offered. "That's barbaric shit."
"I am not suggesting anything," Tuvok said. "I am merely reciting tradition. As B'Elanna is half-human and half-Klingon, she is bound by the traditions of her parents' species. She is not bound by Vulcan tradition. Whether she wins or loses the fight, the choice to mate with Ensign Vorik or to refuse his offer is hers. However, she will be condemning him to death if she refuses him and we're unable to arrange a suitable alternative."
"No other woman on the ship likes him?" Tom asked.
"It is probable that he chose Lieutenant Torres because her Klingon strength would make her the only partner able to withstand his Vulcan strength," Tuvok offered nonchalantly. "Physically, they are well-balanced as mates."
"I don't think it's going to matter," Carol offered.
Immediately she had the attention of everyone. She was suddenly aware that she was wearing ridiculous spandex clothing and that Daryl was holding her in a tight and protective way like he intended—if things went really badly—to drag her with him as far away as they were capable of going. She fought back the surge of embarrassment and ignored the extreme heat that felt like it boiled in her body and found release in her face.
"They're getting tired," Carol offered, gesturing with her hand toward where the fight was beginning to slow down. She'd been watching it with a great deal of interest. Both beings were, in theory, quite human, despite some of their physical characteristics. Still, watching them fight each other with so much fury made them seem very animalistic. It reminded Carol they were all animals. It made her think of a great number of things that, honestly, she was glad nobody else in the room had the power to witness. She refused to let herself sink back into her thoughts, though, for the time being. She had too many eyes on her to let them know that she'd been losing her concentration, steadily and inappropriately, throughout the day. "And it looks like—she's going to last longer than he is."
B'Elanna was clearly exhausted. She dragged the piece of railing—broken as it was—behind her like a club. Ensign Vorik squirmed around on the floor like a stomped-on animal that was trying to decide if it was willing to die or would try to rise once more. As if Carol had rung the final bell of a match, he slumped to the floor, still, and B'Elanna dropped her club before dropping down as well. Tom, who had been stalking the fight nearby, reached her before she hit the ground and cradled her instead of letting her lie on the floor.
Carol assumed that he was particularly frustrated by the events because Vorik, as the Vulcan man had been called, had clearly tried to breed with his girlfriend—or mate, because Carol honestly wasn't sure what half-Klingons called their chosen partners and the lingo was all a bit overwhelming for her.
"Is that the end, Mr. Tuvok?" Kathryn asked, exhaustion coming through in her tone.
Chakotay rushed forward to drop down next to Ensign Vorik and check his injuries. Carol felt Daryl release the hold he had on her. She could hear him breathing heavily even without looking at him. He was reacting strongly to what had taken place there. He had been afraid. Perhaps he'd first been afraid for B'Elanna and what might happen to her, but then he'd been afraid—no matter how needlessly—that Carol might stumble into the path of the miniature battle royale.
Daryl had always been protective, but in light of what Kathryn had said—what she believed about the nature of their relationship—Carol's heart thundered in her chest at the thought that he'd moved so quickly to protect her. She didn't want to read anything into it. She didn't want to put words in Daryl's mouth or thoughts in his head.
But she couldn't help but wonder and a part of her couldn't help but flutter in response to the thought.
"Ensign Vorik has lost the fight," Tuvok said. "He has been denied his chosen mate. The fever will be purged and his pon farr has ended for at least another seven years. He's no longer in any mortal danger."
"And he'll just be the regular, controlled Vulcan that we've all come to know?" Kathryn asked.
"His ability to exercise emotional discipline will return," Tuvok offered.
"Mr. Dixon—we can heal the damage done to you in the fight. It was very—chivalrous—of you to come to B'Elanna's rescue," Kathryn offered. She redirected her attention toward Tom, who was gathering up an exhausted B'Elanna in his arms, and Chakotay who was speaking to a Vorik who seemed at least able to sit, with assistance, at this point. "How are our competitors doing?"
"There appear to be no major or extremely urgent injuries, Captain. Regardless, we should get everyone involved to sickbay," Chakotay said. "The doctor can treat their wounds and, perhaps, make sure that Ensign Vorik is feeling back to his old self."
"Are we certain that sickbay is…fully operational, at this time, Commander?" Kathryn asked. "Have there been any developments while I was on the holodeck?"
"None that have been reported," Chakotay responded. "But the fact remains that we have people who need to go to sickbay, and we have to deal with Kes's situation eventually. We might as well take care of everything at once."
Kathryn laughed to herself and ended the sound with a groan.
"As usual, you're right, Commander," Kathryn said. She sighed. "Let's get everyone who needs medical care to sickbay and see what we can do about putting out a few more fires. Lieutenant Tuvok—please get everyone back to engineering, and see that this mess gets cleaned up."
Carol heard him say "Aye, Captain," even as Kathryn disappeared out the door with Chakotay, supporting Vorik, and Tom, carrying B'Elanna, following after her.
Carol didn't say anything when Daryl dropped an arm around her and pressed his palm to her back to guide her out of the room. She simply went with him, her heart beating irregularly over the simple, innocent touch.
