Tom leaned back and looked at the spreadsheet. For someone who didn't have a regular job, things looked pretty good financially. A quick but very lucrative hovercycle restoration had gained enough credits to pay Beri's retainer next month, plus pay back some of the legal fees his folks had fronted. And he now had enough to buy that piece of hololab equipment …
The vid buzzed at him. Gral? Well, this is unusual, he decided.
As usual, Gral came right to the point. "Good morning. Would you be available to have lunch today?"
"It happens that I am," he said. "Where and when?"
"Brannigan's," he replied. "I enjoy the raw oysters," he said to Tom's raised eyebrow. "I've been asked to introduce you to one of my colleagues. It is in regard to the conversation we had recently."
xxx
Oh, yes, that conversation …
To his dismay, the reinstatement business had been gnawing at him. He always insisted that Starfleet didn't mean that much to him, but this ...
One night, while Kate was at McKinley, he'd ended up at Gral and Yallith's house, pouring out his frustration over Klingon martinis.
"Are you angry that Miral's mother has been reinstated?" Gral asked.
"No. I hope she figures out what she wants. But I would be delighted if she'd take a 10-year mission to the Gamma."
Gral snorted and took a quick look around the room. "Klingon women can be magnificent; they can also be … difficult. You and your former father-in-law have my respect," he said quietly. "But, back to the subject. Do you miss Starfleet?"
"A little," he said, taking a sip of his second martini. "Though I think I miss the structure more than the organization."
Gral grunted. "Do you miss flying?"
Tom sighed. Bingo. "Yes, very much. And if I were single and childless, I'd be back on a ship. As it is, I'm overqualified for the short-hop firms; Starfleet and the long-haul freighters would keep me away from home too much.
"Teaching?"
"I'd love to. Again, I'm too specialized for the private flight schools. I seriously considered Fed Navy; they'd take me as an instructor. Now that would give my father a stroke," he chuckled as he sipped again.
"But there's no guarantee I'd get the flight school here. Kate's fine with the Navy part, but she made it clear she won't move to Argos 4 or thereabouts." He finished his drink. "Ground Defense would take me as a contractor, but their flight school is in Nova Scotia."
"You know," Gral said as he poured them another round. "The Academy does have a flight school. Or have you forgotten?"
He snorted. "Not at all. But the profs are all active-duty. Admiral Lloyd said there were no openings, but I was welcome to wait it out on a ship."
Gral let out a half-growl. "I have openings, so do other departments; unfortunately they're not in your field." He raised an eyebrow. "You could be a civilian contractor."
He nodded. "I have an application. Most of those postings seem to be with ECorps or support services."
Gral looked at him for a long moment. "I think you should get your name in there, Thomas. The ranks are thinner than anyone likes to admit. Your skills are much too valuable to overlook."
He picked up the now-empty pitcher and waved it at Tom. "However, I will suggest that you wait until tomorrow to submit that application."
xxx
Gral was waiting at the door with an admiral. "Admiral Terrance Hayward, dean of the Academy's Flight School," he said formally.
"Well, I'll be damned," Tom thought as they shook hands.
Lunch was low-key; they talked about flying and Voyager; Hayward seemed well-versed on his resume. Finally, over coffee, the dean got to the point.
Mr. Paris, I'm in a bind: The commander who teaches basic and advanced Flight Theory has taken emergency leave. He'll be away for the fall semester."
"That's unfortunate," he offered.
"It is unfortunate. I have to hold his position, so I need a temporary replacement. And frankly, I don't like the qualifications of the active-duty candidates I've seen so far. Captain Gral suggested I talk to you.
"I've read your service file. You've had your issues, but you are one hell of a pilot. You have several strong recommendations from Voyager's senior staff." He paused. "I understand you asked for reinstatement, then turned down the offer. Would you explain why?"
Tom explained the situation, as simply and as factually as he could. "It's a difficult situation, but my daughter is doing well, and it's important to me that she remain close to family." he said.
Hayward nodded. "I can accept that, I'm divorced myself. Understand though, all I can offer is a contract position for one semester, provided that I can get permission to bring a civilian instructor on board. We have a strong tradition of active-duty instructors; I'm having trouble bending that. I realize that it would be short notice, but if I can do this, would you be interested in the position?"
"Absolutely," Tom said, and Gral broke into one of his rare smiles. Hayward nodded. Now it was time to talk to Owen Paris. No doubt he would be willing to provide a bit of backdoor help.
xxx
It took about three weeks, and another round of interviews. But Hayward came through. Tom would have to scramble to get ready for classes, but ...
Kate smiled as she looked over the offer. "Well dearest, sometimes, the universe aligns itself on its own. All you have to do is wait."
xxx
Kathleen hosted dinner to celebrate his new job. Owen was somewhat scandalized to see that he had kept his beard, though he'd trimmed it to regulation length.
"You have met Will Riker, haven't you?" Kathryn teasingly asked Owen. Julia just smirked. Kathleen and Moira shared a look, and Tom decided that he'd better change the subject.