SHUTTLECRAFT
"Look here, Lieutenant. See what I mean about the stabilizers?" Crewman Andres leaned into the wrecked shuttle to show Paris the break where the stabilizer should have been attached to the shuttlecraft body. "At first I thought that the joint had broken during the crash landing, but from the damage, the shuttle seems to have landed more to starboard. I think it broke on the way down, from the turbulence."
"I think you're right, Tim. Tuvok did a better job landing this thing than I thought, if the port aft stabilizers were rocking around like that. No surprise he lost control. Of course, I probably won't ever tell him that." Paris grinned at the young crewman, who was even younger than Harry Kim by a few months. Tim smiled back at the pilot and moved forward to start removing the most sensitive equipment from the shuttle.
"That's the trouble with these shuttle parts that we've been getting from the Delta Quadrant people. They mean well, mind you, but there's just no quality control like we're used to. Ensign Myers was saying just yesterday that she was sure we could do better fabricating all of the parts, if we only had the room on board Voyager."
"I can't quarrel with you, Tim. I'm just not sure where the captain is going to be able to find the space for you." Paris stooped to unfasten the panel by the helm. The most delicate instrumentation from the wreck was being taken back on Paris' shuttle before the destroyed craft's shell was beamed back on Voyager via the bulk cargo transporter. Lt. Torres wanted to check out the sensitive parts without their having gone through the transporter buffers, just to make sure no subtle evidence of malfunction could be obscured by the transporter process itself.
"We were thinking that we could possibly build a bigger door in that wall between cargo hold one and the shuttle bay. Most of the time that cargo hold is half-empty, and it's usually our stuff in there anyway..." The young crewman went on enthusiastically as Paris half-listened. not that he wasn't extremely interested in what Andres had to say: Tom's life, as well as the lives of his passengers, was dependent upon the quality of the craft that he flew. He'd simply heard it so often lately from Myers, Andres, and Jim Joseph, the other young ensign assigned to shuttle repair, that he did not really need to listen to follow the conversation. He could recite it himself.
A couple of hours later, Paris tapped his comm badge. "Paris to Torres."
::::Torres here.::::
"We've packed up the equipment you wanted retrieved, B'Elanna. You can beam the shell up anytime you're ready. We'll be back in about an hour."
The pilot waved Tim into his shuttle as the chief engineer replied, ::::I'll meet you in the shuttle bay. Torres out.::::
=/\=
B'Elanna Torres had just finished examining the latest wrecked shuttle with Ensigns Myers and Joseph when Paris gracefully piloted his shuttle into the bay. The chief engineer and the repair crew watched as the shuttle settled gently next to the alcove which bore the official sign of "Shuttle Maintenance Bay #1." Below the official sign was another:
YOU BLITZ 'EM, WE FIX 'EM
The first time Elaine Myers had forgotten to take the paper printout sign down before Captain Janeway arrived to take a shuttle with Commander Chakotay, she had been extremely embarrassed. Had she not been so busy using hand signals to order Joseph to remove the offending sign, Myers might have seen the captain's mouth twitch in amusement and the commander's broad but quickly extinguished grin. She did not hear their laughter in any case, as they had held it back until they had closed up the vehicle for take-off.
The next day, a larger, replicated wood sign with the slogan had appeared on Ensign Myers' desk, with the captain's compliments. Captain Kathryn Janeway had long been aware of the value of gallows humor in difficult situations; and despite the valiant efforts and competence of the shuttle bay crew, shuttle maintenance on Voyager had become a very sick joke, indeed.
Since their forced entry into the Delta Quadrant, over a dozen shuttles had crashed. At every opportunity, the shuttles were retrieved and repaired or, if beyond help, stripped for parts and broken apart for rebuilding materials. Only one shuttle that had arrived from the Alpha Quadrant was still essentially whole. The others were either completely rebuilt or were substitutes cobbled together from spare parts and components obtained from the space-faring races of the Delta Quadrant. Andres was not the only one concerned that the parts were not close enough to Starfleet specifications for safety. B'Elanna Torres shared the concerns of the maintenance crew.
"I'm not sure what we can do when the body of the shuttlecraft itself breaks like that, Lt. Torres," said Ensign Myers as they examined the broken stabilizer linkage. The older woman looked at her young charges before adding, "Jim and Tim want us to just go the rest of the way and turn the cargo bay into a shuttle fabrication area, and I have to agree. We're practically building them now anyway. All we really need to do is store molds for the shells in between castings. We have the specs for the necessary equipment in the main computer. You're already making the warp coil parts and such down in Engineering. It would take less time to start from scratch than to try to repair some of these..."
As Myers gestured at the partially dismantled craft in the shuttle bay, she gave Paris a look that prompted him to say, "Don't blame me, this time it wasn't my fault! Tuvok and Neelix own this mess, Ensign Mom." Myers laughed. Her two teenagers were with her husband on the Decker, and she was known for assuaging her own heartache by mothering the youngest and loneliest of the crew. She was Samantha Wildman's first port of call whenever she needed someone to care for her daughter Naomi when Neelix was unavailable.
Pacing around the shuttle bay, Torres began to get an idea. She asked, "What's the status of the other shuttles?"
"Well, we've only got two operational at the moment. We could use a little more help in here. Couldn't you spare an engineer for a few days?" Although she tried to hide the fact that she was begging, Myers was unsuccessful, and she knew it.
Perfect. "I think I might be able to assign Ensign Vorik down here for a while to help out." Torres was getting tired of having the mortified-but-trying-to-look-as-impassive-as-ever Vulcan underfoot in Engineering. "In fact, maybe we should have him complete a feasibility study about converting the cargo hold into the fabrication facility you've been talking about. If he determines it's possible, I'll present the idea to the captain." She turned around and added, "And if she approves, I may be able to assign him to you down here long term."
Even better, Torres thought.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, Lieutenant." The ecstatic woman called across to her young subordinates. "Did you hear that? The Tim & Jim Shuttle Shop may just be getting into business after all."
Tim cheered while Jim smilingly shouted back, "Nah, it's got to be called Ma's."
As the maintenance crew bantered back and forth, Paris took in Torres' crafty smile and leaned over to whisper, "Ulterior motive, Lieutenant?"
"Whatever could you mean, Mr. Paris," Torres replied ingenuously. "I'm just thinking about his career. Vorik could use the experience."
"Sure. Not to mention a little mothering." The image of the dour young Vulcan with the warm, effusive Ensign Mom and her young charges made Paris snicker. Torres unsuccessfully tried to assume an innocent expression. Privately, however, both thought that learning to deal with this kind of emotion might be good for Vorik in the long run, serving as he was on a ship that was mostly human. Certainly, it appeared that they were all in it for the very long run.
As they started for the exit, Paris and Torres waved farewell to the shuttle crew.
"Oh, don't go yet. I almost forgot," Myers called after them. "The Sacajawea is almost ready for a test run. Do you think you could accompany Ensign Joseph and take the shuttle out, Lt. Paris? All the readouts and specs seem to be coming out right, but I still have this funny feeling that we haven't found all the glitches yet. I'd rather you test it out than any of the other pilots."
"Flattery will get you anything, Ensign," he joked. "When do you need me?"
"Tomorrow should be okay."
"Let me read over your findings, Ensign Myers," said Torres. "If the readouts on the Sacajawea look okay to me, I'll clear the flight with the captain." Myers sent Andres over with the padd that had the readouts to the chief engineer before she left the shuttle bay with the pilot. As they cleared the door, both lieutenants grinned as they heard the maintenance crew crowing and shouting, "Hallelulia" behind them.
"Do you think they can make this shuttle building idea work, B'Elanna?" asked Paris.
"Well, that cargo bay will be tight quarters for it, but I agree with them on one thing. They're more likely to meet Starfleet specs building them from parts we make ourselves than from what we've been able to get from off the ship."
"Not to mention how motivated they'll be to do a good job. They've got to ride in 'em, too," gibed the pilot.
=/\=
At 1100 hours the next day, Tom Paris walked into the shuttle bay, already dressed in an environment suit. The shuttle maintenance crew raised their collective eyebrows at the suit and began to haze him. He replied for all ears, "Hey, just your normal Test Pilot gear." For Ensign Myers' ears alone, however, Paris leaned over and added, "But you're the one with the 'funny feeling' something isn't right, Ensign Mom." She grimaced, then ordered Ensign Joseph to don a suit himself before entering the shuttle for the flight.
Torres walked into the shuttle bay, accompanied by Ensign Vorik, as the pilot and copilot were finishing the preflight check. She handed the padd back to Ensign Myers as Vorik nodded to and took a place near Andres. "I couldn't find anything wrong in your readings, either," she said, but I think you were wise to ask Tom to be your pilot. With his instincts, he'll be able to check the craft out thoroughly - not that Jim Joseph couldn't also, mind you, but..."
"Jim is a good kid, but he's the first to say that he isn't the pilot Lt. Paris is, at least not yet. Lt. Paris may kid around with us with that hot-shot pilot stuff, Lt. Torres, but we all know he really knows what he's doing." Myers had been one of the first of the crew, outside of the senior staff, to see through Paris' tough shell and recognize that a lonely kid still lived within him. She often thought that all he really needed to be truly happy was to settle down with some nice girl, but, in her opinion, NOT one of the Delaney sisters. This was Ensign Myers' usual prescription for happiness, but that did not make it any the less true in Paris' case, as far as she could see.
"Torres to Janeway."
::::Janeway here.::::
"We're just about ready for the test flight, Captain."
::::Very well, Lieutenant. We're planning on remaining in orbit the rest of the day, so there's no rush to finish the testing. Janeway out.::::
After Paris saw the signal that he was free to start, the Sacajawea lifted slowly off the shuttle bay floor and sailed through the force field out into space. For half an hour, Paris and Joseph limited propulsion to the thrusters while they checked all of the systems on the shuttle, including life support, finding all in good working order. Finally, Paris opened communications to Torres and said, with a hint of drawling laughter in his voice, ::::We'll go with the impulse engines now, B'Elanna, and then to warp, with your permission, of course, ma'am.::::
"As if you'd listen to me anyway, Tom Paris! We'll manage to follow you with the sensors, no matter what you do with my shuttle."
::::Your shuttle? I think Ensign Myers might have something to say about that, not to mention Captain Janeway.::::
"Don't you worry, Hotshot. I'll clear it with them. Just watch the daredevil stunts!" she teased back.
Torres did not catch the looks between Ensign Myers and Andres at their casual tone while they were supposedly in test pilot mode. Vorik stood stoically in front of the sensors, not lifting his eyes from the instruments.
A short time later, after the shuttle had been pointed out-system and the impulse engines had also tested out without incident, Paris said, ::::We're going to Warp One, now, B'Elanna,:::: Seconds later, the crew in the shuttle bay heard, ::::Whoa!:::: over the open comm line before Ensign Vorik announced dispassionately, "The shuttle has just disappeared from the sensors, Lt. Torres."
"How is that possible?" she shouted. "Shuttle Sacajawea, please respond. Tom, what's going on out there?" As the seconds dragged out to minutes, without any reply, B'Elanna felt both of her stomachs start to churn. She wanted to hit something, anything. With the shuttle bay doors closed, the large area seemed oppressively small to B'Elanna. Losing two crewmen because of something as silly as a shuttle test flight was her worst nightmare. Almost as bad was having to inform the captain of losing two crewmen during a test flight.
"Torres to Janeway."
::::Yes, Lieutenant.::::
"Something's happened with the Sacajawea. They disappeared from the shuttle bay sensors. Can you have Harry start a wide-scale scan of the area?"
::::Of course.:::: The order was given. ::::e'll leave the comm line open to the shuttle bay for the benefit of your crew, B'Elanna.::::
"Thank you, Captain."
=/\=
To Torres it felt like an eternity, but barely 5 minutes passed before she heard Harry Kim's voice say over the open line, ::::I've found them, Captain. They are way past the other side of the system, in a cluster of asteroid bodies where that patch of nebula begins. The metals in the asteroids and the nebula masked them from our sensors. I'm picking up an audio transmission now.::::
"Let's hear it, Mr. Kim," said the captain, relief evident in her throaty voice.
::::Paris to Voyager. This thing sure has a kick, Captain. Tell Ensign Myers her 'funny feeling' was right on the money. This baby only wants to do Warp Four and doesn't want to drop out of warp once it gets there. We had to cut power to all systems to get it to stop. Can you send out the cavalry to pick us up? We don't feel like shooting past you on the way back.::::
"Stay put, Lieutenant. Ensign Richards, plot a course to pick up the shuttle. Lt. Torres, it sounds like our test pilots are doing okay. We'll be closing the comm line from the bridge until we get near enough to pick them up. Janeway out."
B'Elanna had not realized how tightly she was clenching her hands until she looked down to see the crescents of blood marking where her nails had pierced the flesh of her palms. She paced from one end of the shuttle bay to the other until the bay doors were opened for the Sacajawea to enter and touch down.
"You scared us all half to death, Tom Paris," Torres growled at him, as he casually swung out of the shuttlecraft door.
"Worried about the shuttle or me, Torres?
"About Mr. Joseph, if you must know. Having to be copilot to you..."
"Your concern for my well-being is so touching, Lieutenant," he said, but with a jaunty air, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then he bent down close to her ear and whispered to her, in all seriousness, "I think Ensign Joseph was rethinking his career as a test pilot for a few minutes there. In addition to everything else, we had a little trouble with the inertial dampers, with the sudden jump to Warp Four so close to the star. It's a good thing we had on environment suits, or it would have been worse." They both stole a quick look at the young ensign's Vulcanish complexion as he stepped out of the shuttle, confirming the pilot's statement.
Tom tossed a comment off loudly to Ensign Myers with a wink: "Let us know when you get this thing ready again, and we'll make sure it's working okay," while waving over to Ensign Joseph. The wave was returned, along with a tentative thumbs up sign from the young ensign as he walked with Andres through the bay to the maintenance alcove. Torres did not miss the change in Paris' expression from concern to a relieved grin at Jim Joseph's gestures.
Exasperated as she was by what B'Elanna felt was a too casual dismissal of what could have become a dangerous situation, Torres was touched by the pilot's obvious regard for the young ensign. Although she was glad that both of them were back in one piece, Torres was unable to resist challenging the helmsman. "Paris, what am I going to do with you?"
He hesitated for a moment, making an elaborate show of thinking of an answer before replying, "Do you really want an answer to that question?"
The engineer glared at Paris for a few moments for his saucy remark and saucier expression. As his laughing eyes gazed steadily upon her, the idle thought entered Torres' head that it was odd how warm ice blue eyes could look. Then she sighed as any remaining shred of annoyance with him ebbed away.
'Give it up, Torres' resounded in her thoughts. Aloud, she mentioned, off-handedly, "I suppose I could help you get over your obvious terror from your ordeal." As she walked toward the exit of the shuttle bay, she realized that she meant it and had stated as a fact, not a request, "Dinner with me tonight - on the holodeck - but I pick the program and do the food, Paris, not you, understood?"
"Yes ma'am," he drawled, grinning broadly. "How do you want me...to dress?"
Choosing to ignore any double meanings, she replied, "What you were wearing last time we were there will be fine. By the way, what was the name of that beach house program?"
"Paris, Beta 10. But there are some other really nice ones..."
"That one will do just fine, Paris," she retorted.
=/\=
As the two lieutenants walked out into the corridors of the ship together, Ensign Myers glanced at Ensign Vorik. When the helmsman had disembarked from the shuttle, the young Vulcan had moved himself to the far end of the bay out of earshot of Torres and Paris. She had also noted how he had carefully avoided looking back at the two officers as they left the bay together. Myers recalled hearing rumors of some kind of romantic triangle developing between Vorik, Torres, and Paris during a recent galacite mining expedition. On a ship the size of Voyager, it was impossible to avoid such gossip; but she had thought little about it afterwards, especially after Voyager's experience with a Borg ship had reduced all other topics to old news. Now, however, the ease with which she had obtained Ensign Vorik's transfer to her shuttle bay was suddenly making a lot more sense.
Myers had long espoused hard work as good discipline and a distraction for anyone who needed one. She had no doubt that it would be especially effective for a supposedly emotionless Vulcan. Taking pity on her new engineer, Myers marched over to him.
"Ensign Vorik, we're going over this shuttle right now with a fine-toothed comb and analyze exactly what went wrong with the controls and warp drive." The young Vulcan nodded and turned to retrieve a set of tools and instruments from the maintenance bay.
As Myers grabbed her own tool kit, she shook her head. All the while they were working, she knew, her own head would be filled with an analysis of a very different sort: whether or not a supposed playboy and a half-Klingon engineer could have any future together. 'How interesting,' she thought to herself. 'And what fun!'
=/\=