Episode Two - Point of Reference

Chapter 1
Adult Supervision

Julian pressed his palms to his eyes, took in a deep breath, and leaned back against the wall of Jadzia's quarters on the floor. "Oh, hell…" He sighed, and looked up, seeming to regain his formerly positive outlook. "You have anything you're planning on saying at the senior staff meeting?"

"Not much I can say." Jadzia knew he was having a difficult time with being stranded this far away from all their friends and, presumably, family in the Alpha Quadrant. Jadzia had almost come to terms with it herself.

Even if she hadn't, she was distracted.

"Actually, I guess I do have something," she said, and Julian's eyebrows raised in interest. "It came to my attention last night there was apparently some kind of fight in Engineering. Blood was drawn."

Julian frowned. "I didn't see anybody in sickbay with injuries."

"I know it wasn't reported." Jadzia sighed, and tried to consider all the consequences. "I'm trying to decide whether to report it myself. The individual in question decided not to. I don't want to jeopardize what's already a tenuous situation by making it look like the situation was reported."

Ensign Vorik must have considered some consequences before coming to the conclusion he shouldn't report the infraction that resulted in his dripping blood on his uniform yesterday—and it probably made logical sense—the only thing Jadzia didn't know was from which perspective.

"Well, if people are hitting each other, you should probably report it," Julian offered.

"The problem is: we have to live with these people for the next seventy years." Julian responded with eyebrows raised in surprise at her language. It could have been anything from her tone to calling their Maquis crewmates these people. "I mean, my reporting the situation when he said he wouldn't might make his life hell—or worse."

"But you're obviously not going to let any of the crew just put up with physical abuse."

No. She wasn't. She sighed. "I have to report it."

"We're intelligent people. Some of us." Julian smiled. "I'm sure we can come up with something." With that, he pressed up from the floor, sighing as he held a hand out toward the door. "After you?"

Jadzia looked at the door for longer than it deserved. The corridor beyond, and the bridge less than a minute's walk from their neighboring quarters next to the turbolift. "This ship is too damn small." Indeed, there was barely room for both of them to stand alone in their quarters without feeling cramped.

"You can bring that up in staff meeting, too." Julian grinned, looking at the bulkheads. "Maybe we can put on an addition."

"I'm sure." With a rueful grin, Jadzia went out into the hallway, Julian at her heels.

The bridge was an easily-countable number of steps away, and it seemed like they were the last ones to arrive.

Captain Chakotay gave them a nod of greeting when they entered, but seemed to realize as he looked around the room that there just weren't enough seats for everyone. There was a tiny science station in the back of the bridge, but nowhere for Julian to sit.

Julian noticed, too. "Don't worry about it," he muttered, clasping his hands behind his back as he gave Chakotay a smile, though only out of obligation.

Jadzia took quick stock of the room. Captain Chakotay, Human and failed defector from the Federation, occupied the chair in the center of the room. Lieutenant Tuvok, Vulcan and modestly-successful spy for the Federation, was his first officer in a new red uniform. Tuvok also didn't have a chair. Lieutenant Commander Worf, Klingon and former tactical officer on the flagship Enterprise, had taken the same station here. Another Human Lieutenant Thomas Riker, for the first time Jadzia had seen wearing ops gold, resumed his commission under Tuvok's supervision to head the ops department after a brief stint as a Maquis captain. The Human Chief Petty Officer Mahesh Paswan had been assigned chief engineer. That left herself and Julian, both in science blues, for science and medical departments, respectively.

At least their senior officers were… mostly well-staffed.

Also, Tom Paris was sitting at conn, but not because he was the head of any department. Conn officers were treated to bridge staff meetings, but senior staff meetings… well, it depended. Usually the executive officer was the highest-ranking command officer besides the captain, but the station was at the captain's discretion, so that wasn't the case here, either. Anyway, the Defiant was small and someone needed to fly the ship, presumably. Jadzia was an accomplished pilot. But, of course, Dax once had a host die in a shuttle crash so maybe keeping her off conn was a good call by some standards.

"Is this everyone?" Chakotay looked around the room, like maybe he didn't know.

Tuvok didn't even look. "It is."

Chakotay turned his chair to get almost everyone in his vision. "Alright. I expect this to be pretty short. Starting tomorrow, we're going to be running this place like a starship. I think the routine will be helpful to everyone. Let's, uh…" He paused, and Jadzia could sense near-embarrassment emanating from the captain's chair as he seemed to almost change his mind about what he was saying. "You're all… well, some of you are putting your staff together, so… how's that going? Worf?"

The Klingon nearly huffed as he folded his arms across his chest. "Security is staffed with nine individuals, and Starfleet uniforms are required. Fortunately, the Defiant's small security complement was uninjured." He raised an eyebrow and nodded in apparent satisfaction. "I met with Mister Ayala from the Maquis crew—he is an honorable man, and I anticipate no difficulties in the integration of the Maquis into my staff."

Riker looked delighted, and Tuvok didn't look surprised. Not that Jadzia thought he would.

Chakotay smiled, nodded. "Good. Glad to hear it." He spun a bit and made eye-contact with Julian. "Doctor?"

Julian sighed, spread his hands as if almost placating. "Well, besides the Emergency Medical Hologram, it's just me in the medical department. I'd like to canvas the crew for a medic to train, for emergencies, you know."

Tuvok nodded, and said, "I will take note of that."

"Thank you." Julian then looked at Chakotay again. "It's also important for you to know, Captain, we are expecting the addition of a new crew member in ten or so months." After waiting a moment in apparent amusement that no one knew what he was talking about, he added, "Lieutenant Geissler is pregnant."

Jadzia glanced at Julian, feeling her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Of course, it was a foregone conclusion that children were inevitable. But in a year? She wasn't even the mother, and she was already feeling the anxious nerves, the sorrow that this child would have nothing akin to the normal life it deserved, and the excitement to meet it.

"Well." Chakotay looked just as shocked, but recovered enough to shift to impassivity. "Okay, good to know. I guess… we'll start baby-proofing later."

"We have some time," Julian said with a half-smile. He apparently couldn't decide what to think of it, either. "Other than that, the medical facilities onboard are, frankly, inadequate. I've not really completed my assessment, but there are some things I'd feel much better about our prospects if we had them."

"May I speak to you about the specifics tomorrow morning, Doctor?" Tuvok asked.

"Certainly."

Tuvok nodded, and Julian looked to Jadzia, she thought, to indicate he was finished. "Science department." Jadzia sighed and tried to smile. "I doubt we'll be plotting a lot of nebulas on our way home, and our science systems are pretty slim by design. Thanks for assigning Gerron to my staff, though. Interesting kid. And, of course, T'Rul. Looking forward to working with her. Hopefully we don't run into any weird anomalies." And she wouldn't be requiring them to wear Starfleet uniforms. But she didn't say anything, because T'Rul was Romulan military and just imagining that conversation was giving her hives.

Petty Officer Paswan leaned back against the console behind him. "Engineering…" He sighed, almost as if in pain. "First, most of the engineering staff died when the displacement wave hit. As far as trained staff, I have myself, and Ensigns Vorik and Ballard. Vorik will need a promotion to supervise by Starfleet protocol." With that, he sighed again, and shrugged. "And I'm just a technician."

Chakotay smiled, probably not the least of which reason was that classifying himself as just a technician was probably about ten years' distant on his resume. "You're more than that, Chief. You have fifteen years' experience on a dozen ships and starbases."

"Yes. Yes, I do, that. But I can't technically approve promotions," he said, and looked to Tuvok.

"As chief, and on this ship, I say you can," Chakotay said.

"Regardless, I will review his file tonight if you'd prefer," Tuvok said. "Do you believe a promotion is merited?"

"Frankly, I don't think it matters if it is or not. I can't work twenty-six hours a day, so he needs supervisory authorizations," Paswan said. "But, yes. From what I've seen the past few weeks, he's about the level of competence I'd expect from a Lieutenant JG."

"What about B'Elanna Torres?" Riker spoke up. "She's the best engineer I've ever met. I'm sure she could take some of the pressure off by supervising."

Jadzia sighed, cast a glance at Julian. "I have some reason to believe that B'Elanna Torres is… probably not fit for a supervisory position." She turned her eyes back to Chakotay, then at Mister Paswan. "Have you seen anything concerning?"

Paswan shrugged. "She's… intense. Maybe a little aggressive. But, from what I've seen, she's technically excellent. Even gifted."

"If you have something to share with the class, Dax…?" Chakotay said.

"I don't want this going anywhere," she said, and shot Worf a glance. He didn't look particularly concerned either way. Tuvok, though… "Last evening, there was a bloody nose in engineering."

"And the first one you accuse is the half-Klingon." Riker shifted to glare at her more directly. "That's an original bit of reasoning, Commander."

"Considering it was a Vulcan's nose, it probably couldn't have been anyone else," she said, only giving Riker the dignity of an impassive glace at the suggestion. "She's the only one who was in Engineering at the time reasonably strong enough to do it."

"I must point out, however, Ensign Vorik made no such report," Tuvok said.

"He told me he was overlooking the offense when I asked about it," Jadzia said. "I think he's aiming to keep the peace, but I think it's worth keeping a close eye on Torres. Especially if she's in the running for positions with more responsibility."

Paswan sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll handle it this time, if that's alright, Lieutenant. I know Vorik well enough, and… well, I have a feeling about Torres. I think she'll be fine. Just needs…"

"Respect," Riker said. "You treat her with respect, and she'll treat you the same way. We all know how Vulcans come across—no offence."

Tuvok's eyebrow arched, though Jadzia couldn't read what the expression might have conveyed. "No offence taken."

Jadzia watched Paswan direct a limited gaze at Riker, nod a bit, but he didn't say anything else to him. "But of more importance, I think, is that the Defiant is just… not built for this. Engine efficiency is already down fourteen percent."

Paris whistled through his teeth. "If we don't get that fixed soon, we're all going to have to get out and push."

Everyone looked in his direction, but he hadn't even turned to face them when he spoke.

Paswan, at least, was smiling a little. "Yes. What I mean is, high warp for three days straight is hell on the engines, at least without the recalibrations it would have gotten at starbase if this were normal circumstances. It wouldn't be so bad if that was the only problem we were facing. We could stop for a few days, tighten up the propulsion systems, maybe be ready for a few solid months of travel. But our energy draw on life support is quite a bit higher than I was expecting."

Jadzia doubted that there could be enough of them sobbing in the wee hours of the morning so as to make the air filtration systems work noticeably harder…

"Likely the heavy use of the replicators," Tuvok mused. "The crew had to replicate any items they would need immediately—particularly those Starfleet crew quartered on Deep Space Nine. Perhaps next week, we'll see a decline in use of these resources."

"I'm not looking forward to tightening replicator rations," Chakotay mumbled, and turned back to Paswan. "Do we have any alternative energy sources?"

Paswan thought about it for a few seconds, then shook his head. "No. The only real option we have at the moment is reducing our draw. We might want to top off our antimatter reserves whenever we have the chance."

"Alright." Chakotay looked mildly concerned.

Jadzia put her project to decrease power consumption across the board closer to the top of her list. After all, it wasn't like the science department was working overtime despite the abundance of unsorted astrometrics data clicking in at a steady rate from the Defiant's relatively unsophisticated sensor nets.

"Then I think we have some probably welcome news. Mister Neelix informed us of a nearby system inhabited by a mostly friendly people that we are heading towards right now. We're about twelve hours out," Chakotay said, and glanced at Tuvok. "Report to Tuvok with a list of the most necessary components your departments need, and we'll see what we can do."

Jadzia's mind raced with possibilities. Assuming first contact went well, they might be able to put into orbit for a week or more to repair and tie down the Defiant's new systems. Even though they didn't have the necessary expertise or equipment, they'd at least be able to pull it together to make it a few thousand lightyears without breaking down.

Paswan's lighter expression said the same thing.

Chakotay dismissed everyone from the bridge, and the night bridge crew shuffled on. Harry Kim replaced Riker and Geissler shared a few words with Worf before he left tactical to her to assume his nost in the captain's chair for the first half of the night. Everyone on the bridge but Paris was a Starfleet officer, all dressed in uniform according to Chakotay's instructions for the bridge crew.

Just before Jadzia left, she saw Tom spin in his chair to strike up a conversation with Geissler.

As they walked down the hallway, Julian groaned and watched the ceiling pass by over their heads. "This is a nightmare," he said. "You know, I checked all the records for the Starfleet crew and none of them is particularly suited or trained for medical work."

Jadzia wasn't sure if that didn't surprise her just because she'd somehow made it six or seven lifetimes with the same outcome. "Maybe one of the Maquis will turn out to be a doctor."

"They'll have to." With a sigh, he stopped outside his door and watched Jadzia walk to hers. "Breakfast at oh-six-thirty hours?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a bit early, but why not?"

#

Tabor Ha'kan looked down the hallway first one direction, then the other. He wasn't sure why he felt like he was getting away with something, since he wasn't actually sure what this meeting was for. He only knew that Seska had asked him to come to B'Elanna and Jor's quarters just before his shift—they had things to discuss.

And also don't tell anyone. That was never a good sign.

At his call, the door slid open to show Seska the sole welcome committee. "Come on, Tabor, come on." She waved him in as if in a hurry.

B'Elanna reclined on her bed, presumably to save space, while all the others crowded around the edges of the room. They could never have packed all twenty-some Maquis into this one tiny room, but the ones that were missing were completely expected.

Gerron was off duty, but it was tough enough to get that kid involved in eating meals. Ha'kan wasn't one of those apparently taking his seclusion personally, like Dalby, and let him be. Yosa Likara was another Bajoran in her forties, and famously incapable of taking anybody's shit. The only people off duty at the moment were most of the Maquis engineering crew and Danny Carlson and Hod Jackson from ops. Despite being apparently on-duty, Human Michael Jonas and Bajoran Hogan Katsulas were also in attendance.

Ha'kan went to stand next to Hogan, brushing his arm as he leaned in slightly. "Do you know what this is about?"

"Damned if I know…" Hogan muttered, and shrugged. "Seska's got her earring knotted over something."

Didn't that usually describe Seska…? Ha'kan smirked, and said nothing.

"I don't think anyone else can show up," B'Elanna said from her post in her bed, and shifted to hang off the edge to get a better look at everyone.

"Yeah, I think you're right." Seska took up position more toward the middle of the room to address everyone that had bothered to show up. "I think we need to talk about the situation," she said. "And head off some problems before they become urgent."

"I'm sure you all heard about my… altercation with Ensign Vorik in Engineering?" B'Elanna asked.

"Depends what they heard," Ha'kan mumbled and didn't withhold from rolling his eyes.

The crowd was small enough that everyone noticed. Seska piped up almost immediately. "You have something to say, Tabor?"

"Well, to start, how about that Vorik wasn't going to report it?" Ha'kan said, and bit his tongue even though there was a whole lot more to say. It was no secret he wasn't in B'Elanna's fan club, and he wasn't in Seska's.

The point was, it didn't matter how good she was at mechanical problem solving. Ha'kan had met more personable Cardassians.

"And you believe him?" Seska pressed. "Vulcans are twofaced liars. Everyone knows that."

When Ha'kan said nothing, because that was tough to argue, Seska took that to mean his objection had been settled and continued. "Which is why having Tuvok in the position of XO is untenable. That puts him in charge of crew assignments and punishments, and we know he won't be fair. We need to petition Chakotay for a change and, if he won't, force it."

B'Elanna, Danny, and Michael all nodded distantly in agreement. Even though no one else did, Ha'kan could tell he was the only one vehemently opposed to the idea.

"Hold on a second, don't you care about whether B'Elanna actually deserves to be put off the ship?" Ha'kan asked, and B'Elanna's gaze shot up with blank murder.

Seska, though, smiled at him. Seemed to consider it. Shook her head. "No, I really don't."

"Well, shit, in that case, why don't we march up to the bridge right now and ask for you to be made captain? I'm sure you'll be fair to everyone."

"Wait." B'Elanna slid from her bed and stood beside Seska. "If you have a problem with me, Tabor, I want to hear it." When Seska started to object that this wasn't productive, B'Elanna's dangerous glare turned on Seska.

As expected, that shut Seska up.

If anything, Ha'kan thought that should have shown Seska that her concept of pushing and shoving to get what she wanted was the least-fair thing possible. At least from Ha'kan's perspective. He was used to being one of the smallest, one of the youngest. He was used to having nothing but the dirt beneath his feet and standing there because it was better than lying down.

"I don't have a problem with you, except that we all know you're pissed to get glanced over for charge of Engineering." When she scoffed, about to argue, he cut her off. "You're used to getting your way, usually because you know what the hell you're doing when the rest of us have no idea. But you were wrong, and you need to own up to it if you don't want this ship to self-destruct before we get anywhere."

B'Elanna took a small step toward Ha'kan before Seska grabbed her arm—not putting any real force on her, just a reminder. If only that was all B'Elanna needed most of the time… "If this crew collapses," she said, almost spitting the word, "it won't be my fault."

"I don't know. You did throw the first punch."

B'Elanna tore her arm from Seska's hand and took another step toward Ha'kan.

Ha'kan adjusted his posture—straighter, even if he was about to have his lights put out, maybe even permanently depending on how mad she was. He didn't have to worry about it, since Hogan stepped directly in front of Ha'kan.

Hogan was taller and broader—more intimidating, despite being Bajoran and therefore probably not as strong as even B'Elanna's petite frame. "It's starting to sound to me like we have two options here," he said, and looked at Seska. "Do we want to do things the Starfleet way or the Maquis way?"

Seska frowned, stepping up beside B'Elanna to look up into Hogan's eyes. "I didn't join Starfleet."

"And I didn't join Chief B'Elanna's engineering crew, but here we are," Ha'kan said.

Michael scoffed, leaning back against the wall with folded arms. "Hell. I didn't have you of all people pegged as a collaborator, Tabor…"

Every atom in the room screeched to a halt. Even the sounds of breathing froze as Ha'kan tried to figure out if he'd heard right. He leaned forward ever so slightly to see around Danny beside him, and the tips of Hogan's fingers pressed warningly against his chest as he turned. The way Michael grinned at him, he'd heard exactly right.

Slapping Hogan off, Ha'kan dove for Michael and the room exploded into sound and action.

Ha'kan scratched and grasped, nails gripping the fabric on Michael's shoulder before half a dozen hands pulled Ha'kan back. Another bunch of hands dragged Michael out of reach. Before Ha'kan could regain his composure, Seska was standing between them, snapping at Michael to shut his mouth. Others, like Jor and Hogan, demanded he apologize or leave or made vague threats of their own.

Ha'kan tried once or twice to shake the hands holding him; only when he raised his hands in surrender and turned away from Michael did they finally let him go. Without looking at him, Ha'kan pointed. "Say anything like that again, I'll rip your ears off."

Ha'kan could hear Michael's smile, but it could have been nervous or mocking. He didn't know, and he didn't care. "Alright, alright, sorry. It was a joke."

"It was a stupid joke," Jor said.

"A stupid joke," Michael revised, "Tabor? I'm sorry."

Ha'kan waved him off, but didn't otherwise respond as he stepped into the wall to focus his attention on anything else. He felt a few hands pat his shoulder, his ribs, as he pressed his forehead into his raised arms. Stupid, stupid thing for a Human to say.

"To make it clear," B'Elanna said, "I'm not interested in being chief. And I like the Maquis way. I joined Starfleet and left for a reason."

Hogan straightened to his full height and turned directly to B'Elanna. One of his hands laid on Seska's shoulder, almost threateningly. "We can do things the Maquis way, but I don't think we're gonna win if we do." He looked at Seska, trying to maintain a calm demeanor even as Hogan's hand slid closer by centimeters to her neck.

"I think you underestimate the element of surprise," Seska said, finally brushing off Hogan's hand.

"Yeah, I think you do," Hogan agreed.

Seska huffed in obvious frustration. "This is about Tuvok and Worf," she said. "I don't think it's unreasonable not to trust Tuvok, and I don't think it's unreasonable to not be okay with the security and penalty policies that he and Worf are putting in place." Seska broke from her direct line to Hogan to address the rest of the room. "And do you really think Chakotay's going to give us the benefit of the doubt?"

"Do we deserve it?" Ha'kan asked, and gestured at B'Elanna.

"Fine!" B'Elanna snapped. "Fine, I'll turn myself in! Will that make you happy?"

"Yeah, maybe a little!" Ha'kan said, and glared. "Sure beats running off to complain to Seska about a problem you started." He bit back the impulse to add an as usual to that statement.

Another thing about the Maquis he hated—though he wasn't sure if it would really be any better on a Starfleet ship: favoritism was tolerated and even encouraged. Seska was B'Elanna's best friend. Seska slept in Riker's bed.

Nothing ever happened to B'Elanna.

So maybe his motives were a little self-serving. Maybe a part of him did hate B'Elanna and wanted her put in her place. Seska was sore that her position of importance had been downgraded significantly. She used to be the captain's lover. Now Riker was just the guy in charge of starship ops. Hell of an adjustment, probably.

If Seska wanted that back badly enough, she would be willing to take up any banner and label it abuse if it would help. All Ha'kan knew was that, regardless of what she'd been doing during the occupation, he bet she was just a step away from collaborator.

He'd never be so stupid as to say it, though.

"I just want everyone to be clear about what's really going on, because I don't think it has anything to do with Tuvok or Worf. It has to do with you two," Ha'kan said. B'Elanna and Seska had lost the most in this arrangement. Of course, they were more upset than everyone else. What did someone like Ha'kan or Jor care? They were nobodies on the Valjean and they were nobodies here.

The way everyone averted their eyes, Ha'kan knew he hadn't misread the room. They weren't real Maquis. Ha'kan had some reservations that Seska was what he'd call a real Bajoran, but… yeah, he'd never be so stupid as to say that, either.

He tried to figure out something he wasn't too stupid to say, but couldn't find anything. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be chief," he added, looking at B'Elanna, since that was just as true. "You're a great engineer, even if you are a shitty manager."

To his surprise, B'Elanna smiled. It wasn't a real smile, but at least he didn't think everyone was going to end up killing each other immediately. "Well, at least I know you're not completely blind."

"Or completely against you," Ha'kan added. "I didn't report you, either."

Seska scoffed. "Is she supposed to thank you?"

Ha'kan turned a biting smile on Seska. "I would never expect B'Elanna to say please or thank you."

After he'd said it, he realized he had never heard her say either, no matter how indignant she looked at the moment.

Hogan looked at Seska, and spread his hands. "I don't know about anybody else, but I'm not exactly ready to raid the armory. Sorry, Seska."

"I understand." Seska straightened, tossed her head. "But you should all know that, at least, I'm on your side. All of you." She glanced around the room. "Unless I'm really the only one who doesn't trust Tuvok."

"Are you kidding?" Danny laughed softly. "None of us trust Tuvok."

"But we don't exactly trust you, either," Ha'kan said, drawing surprised looks from everyone but B'Elanna and Seska, who looked more livid. There it was. The truth that wasn't too stupid to say. "We're all thinking it," he said with a shrug. "I'm just the only one saying it."

Seska took half a second to recover, sighed. "Well, alright, then. Who do you trust?"

"I trust James," Hogan said, and there were nods around the room.

James Ayala wasn't even here, but he had a paternal bearing that even Ha'kan found nearly irresistible. Unlike Riker, he'd been a responsible, hard worker his entire life. He didn't have an exotic background in Starfleet Academy like B'Elanna, or in labor camps like Ahni. He was exactly what he advertised: a frontier farmer with a wife, two kids, and no aspirations for greatness.

Seska would never ask him to lead this mutiny, or even join it, because he'd never do it for something as petty as her or B'Elanna's pride.

"I trust Ayala…" Ha'kan agreed quietly, and Hod gave a third to the sentiment.

"Okay, then, we'll see what he says," Seska said.

"And in the meantime?" B'Elanna pressed.

Ha'kan had a few ideas of what he wanted to happen in the meantime—for starters, B'Elanna turning herself in to Tuvok. He had low expectations of that, though, so he didn't say anything. It would just make her angry.

Nobody had any suggestions of what to do in the meantime, except Seska who asked everyone "to just keep an eye on" Tuvok and Worf. They could discuss any perceived miscarriages of justice when or if they happened.

No one said if. Ha'kan just added that himself. He knew who he was dealing with.

The meeting broke just before Ha'kan was due in engineering for his shift.

Jor caught up to him in the hallway on his slow walk to engineering, rubbing her arms like she was cold.

Ha'kan glanced at her. "Did they even ask if you were okay with that?"

Jor shook her head. "B'Elanna does what B'Elanna wants when B'Elanna wants," she said with a half-smile. It was alright, probably, when B'Elanna wasn't her roommate—nobody hated B'Elanna, but she was definitely hard to like. "I don't know if it was B'Elanna's idea. It might have been Seska's, and Ballard is her roommate."

"I guess it would have been a bit suspicious if everyone crowded the hallway to get into Riker's quarters." Ha'kan smiled with the image of Tuvok watching impassively from the other end of the hallway as they all shuffled into Riker's quarters on Deck One like cliff-pigs into a hole.

Jor even giggled a little as they rounded the last corner to engineering.

Ed Jarvin came out the door at the same time, smiled when he saw them. "Hey, how'd it go?" he asked, apparently unaware or uncaring of the clandestine requirements Seska had imposed when she told everyone about the Maquis-only meeting.

"Tabor almost got his head knocked off," she said with a smile at him.

"Oh?" Ed's tone was friendly, but his eyes dancing between him and Jor were confused and concerned. "By who?"

"Just B'Elanna," he said, shrugging even though that was a who else kind of question.

"At least we know she's equal-opportunity…" Jor sighed, and then looked at the door behind Ed. "What were you doing down here, anyway?"

"There are parts replication units in there," he said, and nodded. "That's what I was doing. Maintenance." With a sigh, he shrugged, and sidestepped them as they went on in. "Good luck and keep your heads on."