Second Chances: Chapter 83

A/N: Bonus chapter! Also, the second to last. I'm done writing, so I'm giving you one tonight and probably the epilogue on Sunday. Enjoy!

Stardate 54492
November 2377
San Francisco, Earth

Lt. Commander B'Elanna Torres walked into the lecture hall for Comparative Systems and was immediately greeted by a wall of cadets—and a few faculty, lurking near the back—cheering and clapping and rushing to their feet. She sighed and let them have their moment as she set up her PADD.

"If you guys think this is going to get you out of lecture, you're in for a rude awakening," she finally said, waving for them to take their seats. "I hope Dr. Hospod kept you guys on track, because we're getting close to the end of the semester and we don't have any time for any more breaks. Open your texts to section 16 and let's start with the basics of hand-held phase weapons." It was a favorite of most of her students; engineering majors had to build a rudimentary hand-held phase weapon during Survival Strategies their second classman year, so by the time they took Comparative Systems as firsties, most had had hands-on experience with the subject matter and were able to pick up the nuances of differences between the different phase weapons pretty easily. She intentionally saved this unit for near the end of the course, to give them something a little simpler to learn while they were working on their final projects.

For the last 15 minutes of class, she went over the requirements—again—for the final project and the project proposals, which were due on Friday. Most of the cadets had turned in their project proposals already; she started accepting them two weeks into the course, although nobody actually got around to submitting anything until after midterms. As focused as she was on answering questions from the students, she didn't notice the officer enter from the back of the lecture hall and take a seat in the last row. It wasn't unusual for officers to drop in on classes, either to get a refresher of the subject matter or for professors to heckle their colleagues—Commander Ao was infamous in the department for that, and nobody liked teaching anything that was remotely related to disaster response or even salvage for fear that Ao would find out and drop in just to argue—and so when Torres finally realized who was sitting there, she couldn't help but smile. "Commander Paris," she said. "You're late. We went over navigational systems over a month ago."

"I got here as fast I could," he said with a grin. The cadets began whispering amongst themselves as they realized who was sitting there.

"I wasn't aware you had such an interest in Comparative Systems." She was fully aware that she was flirting with her husband in front of her class, but really didn't care. There were plenty of rumors around the Academy about what kind of professor and officer she was; let them add the fact that she was actually a person who had real connections to people—including the man she was married to—to the things the cadets gossiped about.

"I don't," he replied. "I just have an interest in the professor." One of the male cadets, she didn't see who, gave a wolf whistle at that, and she lost what little composure she had left and laughed.

"Class, Lt. Commander Tom Paris, chief helmsman of the U.S.S. Voyager," she introduced to the class. "Tom, Comparative Systems." She made a show of looking at her chronometer, and then at her students. "You have five minutes left of class. Go at it."

There was half a beat of silence, and then the roar of 70 cadets all trying to say something at once. Tom looked overwhelmed, and B'Elanna smirked at him.

That's what he got for trying to embarrass her while she was at work.

Most of the questions were indecipherable in the cacophony, and Torres was surprised—and impressed—that of the ones she could understand, she didn't hear anything inappropriate. Maybe they were all still a little afraid of her. Tom attempted to answer the questions, but every time he opened his mouth, he was drowned out by another question. "One at a time!" he finally pleaded.

"What was the inspiration for the pop-out design of the impulse thrusters on the Delta Flyer?" Of course it would be Shava who asked an actual engineering question; in addition to seemingly not caring about anyone's personal life—as long as it doesn't affect her—she had spent the last several months categorizing systems on Voyager and the Delta Flyer and was doing her final project for the course on the non-Federation components of the Delta Flyer. All of which came from the Delta quadrant. Most of which came from the Borg.

Tom grinned at the question. He could—and would, if given the opportunity—talk about shuttles for hours on end. "It was a Devore ship," he said. "They were horrible and xenophobic, but their ships were pretty nice. Their impulse thrusters were stowed at warp and exposed at impulse, which increases both the velocity and acceleration at sublight speeds."

"How many new species did you guys make contact with?" Cadet Cook asked quickly.

"I lost count in the second year," Tom admitted. "I'm sure Starfleet will be announcing the official tally soon. If they haven't already." He looked at B'Elanna quizzically, and she shrugged. It wasn't like she paid attention to current events even when she wasn't distracted by getting her husband back.

"What was your favorite part of the Delta quadrant?" B'Elanna didn't see which cadet asked the question.

"For the last year and a half, I got to see my wife for 20 minutes almost every week," Tom said, without hesitation and without any hint of teasing in his voice, and despite herself, B'Elanna smiled at that.

The chime went off to announce the end of class, and for probably the first time, the cadets seemed reluctant to gather their things and leave, more heading toward the rear exit than usual in hopes of being able to ask another question to the officer newly returned from exotic lands. "Shava," B'Elanna called to her cadet, interrupting the conversation between Shava and Navi. "I'll see you in the lab this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir," Shava replied. She usually spent Monday afternoons in Pathfinder, but B'Elanna was still trying to get back in the rhythm of things after being gone for two weeks.

B'Elanna wasn't sure how it happened, but Navi had invited herself to lunch with Tom and B'Elanna. It was an unseasonably nice day in San Francisco, and they came to a unanimous decision to eat in the courtyard between Scott and Sato Halls instead of the mess. "On the off chance that you guys stay on Earth next semester, are you going to come back as a flight instructor?" Navi asked Tom as she poked at her salad.

"Why? Need more craft certifications to check off your list?" Tom asked in reply. "B'Elanna says you're doing just fine on that front without my help."

"I just want to make sure I'm making the most of my time here at the Academy," Navi shot back with a smile. B'Elanna rolled her eyes.

"Maybe you should start with turning in a project proposal for the engineering course you're barely qualified to take," she pointed out, and Navi's grin widened.

"Oh, it's a good one," she said confidently. "I'm almost done with the work."

"For the project, or the proposal?" B'Elanna asked. "Because most people wait until their proposal is approved before doing the hard part."

"Since when have I done things like most people?" Navi asked.

"Your grade is not good enough to be winging it on your final project," B'Elanna said warningly. Navi just smiled and shrugged a shoulder.

A tall and gangly cadet in a red uniform approached their table, and it wasn't until Tom waved at him that B'Elanna realized he wasn't just part of the background of random cadets she was accustomed to seeing every day. In a cadet's uniform and out of the context of Voyager, she hadn't recognized Icheb. Cadet Icheb, she remembered. "Commander Paris, Commander Torres," Icheb greeted with a nod to each officer. He turned to Navi, an almost quizzical look on his face. "Hello," he greeted, offering his hand. "I'm Cadet Icheb."

"Navi Torres," Navi replied. She glanced at his hand and then back at his face. "No offense, but I don't shake hands," she said, her voice containing neither apology nor disdain.

"Oh," Icheb said, his hand dropping to his side. "I was under the impression it was the typical human greeting."

"I'm part Vulcan," she explained. "We keep physical contact to a minimum."

"Due to your touch telepathy," Icheb commented. Navi raised an eyebrow, and Icheb explained, "The Doctor had me study the anatomy and physiology of species we had aboard Voyager, so I could serve as a medical assistant when necessary."

"Seems prudent," she remarked. She gestured at the empty chair at her table. "Have a seat."

"I don't mean to intrude," he protested. Navi shrugged.

"You're saving me from getting a lecture about my coursework from my sister. Again."

Icheb looked confused at that remark, his eyes going between the Torreses. "Half-sister," B'Elanna commented. "And you are welcome to join us."

"I thought you weren't taking courses on campus until next semester," Tom commented as Icheb finally took the offered seat.

"I'm not," Icheb replied. "Captain Janeway suggested that I familiarize myself with the campus and get to know some of my advisors, now that I can meet with them in person."

"What year are you?" Navi asked.

"Third classman," he replied.

"Same," she said. "Major?"

"I haven't declared yet," he admitted. "Commander Chakotay advised that there is no need to rush, as I have until the end of my third classman year to declare. You are majoring in the sciences?"

"Biomedical engineering," she said. "And then onto the Medical Academy. What are you thinking of studying?"

"I worked in Astrometics often on Voyager, but I doubt there is anything that any professor could teach me in that subject that I do not already know." B'Elanna turned to Tom at that, who was trying to hide a smirk behind his hand. "My parents were geneticists and I have studied the topic as well. How do you already know that you will be attending the Medical Academy? I thought admission required further application."

It was Navi's turn to smirk. "It does," she acknowledged, "but I'll get in."

"Assuming you don't ruin your GPA by taking an upper level engineering course as a third," B'Elanna commented. Navi rolled her eyes at her.

"What's your species?" she asked Icheb in that characteristic Betazoid bluntness. "I apologize for my lack of familiarity with peoples of the Delta quadrant."

"Brunali," he replied.

"I do research in a neurology lab," she said. "We don't have any Brunali scans, obviously, and I'm always looking for new material."

It was Tom who laughed at that. "You can't just ask people if you can scan their brains over lunch," he commented. Navi shrugged.

"Is breakfast a better meal for discussing brain scans?" she asked. She turned back to Icheb. "You don't have to, obviously. I just find brains interesting. Oh!" she said, feigning excitement as she turned to B'Elanna. "Since I haven't turned in my proposal yet, maybe I can change it. The effects of Borg technology on the humanoid nervous system!"

"Don't even think about it," B'Elanna said warningly. Navi gave her a wide grin, and she knew from that twinkle in her sister's eye that she was joking. She was concerned about what trick Navi had up her sleeve for the final project, but knew that Navi cared too much about her grades—and rightfully so, as she still had to get into medical school—to be messing around on a project that would be 40% of her grade for the course.

Tom's chronometer chimed, and he glanced down at his PADD and grimaced. "I need to get to Headquarters," he said. "Thanks for the company." He gave B'Elanna a quick kiss. "I'll see you tonight. Navi, piece of advice from someone who's had a family member as a professor: don't push it." Navi smirked in reply, undoubtedly having heard the stories of Tom's Survival Strategies course from Owen. Icheb also rose and bid his farewells to the Torreses. Tom had mentioned that they had a meeting for the Voyager crew that afternoon, and was sure that was where they were heading.

Navi was still watching them thoughtfully as they walked away, and then turned back to B'Elanna. "Before I forget," she said with a grin, activating her PADD and sending a program over to B'Elanna. "My project proposal."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes, but couldn't help herself and she picked up her own PADD to read the title. "Installing a Federation biobed into a Jem'Hadar fighter," she read. "Cute."

Navi grinned. "I thought so," she said smugly. "Shava checked it out. She thinks it would have worked."

"Shava's never seen Dominion tech in person," B'Elanna pointed out.

"Doesn't mean she doesn't know the engineering," Navi shot back. She gave herself a few more seconds to gloat before she glanced over in the direction of Headquarters, where the men had faded out of view. "I think it really is time to break up with Brad," she mused. B'Elanna frowned at the non-sequitur, and then realized what Navi was implying. She chuckled as she shook her head slowly. Brad and Icheb couldn't be more different—physically, mentally, emotionally—but she had long ago stopped trying to understand why Navi was interested in the people or things that she was.

"Kahless help that poor boy."