Episode Two - Point of Reference

Chapter 5
Seeing Things

The transporter was truly an unsettling piece of technology, but it did save a lot of time. In the amount of time it would have taken Neelix to open a hail from the Baxial to the landing authorities, they were standing in the center of a little street just a few blocks outside the main city. It was quaint, certainly intended only to appeal to the local population rather than the frequent off-world visitors, and was consequently less-travelled.

It was only himself, Kes, Lieutenant Riker, and Mister Ayala—Riker looking the least in-place in his bold black-and-yellow uniform. As a bridge officer, and on duty, it was required. Ayala was a security officer and required to wear the same when on duty, so Neelix could only guess he was accompanying Riker as a favor. He and Kes, of course, dressed to impress.

As arranged, Danixan was there to meet them. He was a slim and lithe Talaxian, though his years on Ilidaria had robbed him of any sense of style remaining to the Talaxian diaspora. Instead of the boldly-patterned suits that Neelix favored, he wore the wired robes that were popular among Ilidarian businessmen.

Danixan clapped his hands together once, then spread them in an indication of surprise and delight as he rushed over, maroon robes swishing at his ankles. "Ah! Enchanting! This—? This is that transporter technology you told me about?"

Before Neelix could politely speak, engaged in the Ilidarian cheek-forehead-cheek kiss with Danixan, Lieutenant Riker spoke up. "Indeed it is, Mister Danixan. Unfortunately not one of the technologies I'm at liberty to trade."

Danixan looked disappointed, though he'd already been told as much. The excuse was that it was integrated with their systems, but even Neelix didn't believe that. Still, Danixan said, "Everything has a price, Mister Riker."

Lieutenant Riker flashed his debonair grin. "I can't argue with you there."

Danixan chuckled hungrily and looked at Neelix. "You always bring me the best new friends, Neelix. I'm sure, though, with technology like this, you'll be able to afford even the rarest of the materials on this list you sent me." With that, he reached into a pouch inside his robe and withdrew a computerized notepad. "The price on some of these materials is, indeed, quite high…"

"We know," Riker said, and glanced at Neelix. "We have some… strange things to trade, and we're hoping we can come to some agreement. Neelix tells us you have contacts all up and down Ilidarian social strata that could provide us with the bargaining tools we might need."

"For a quite generous finder's fee," Neelix added with a wink and gentle jab with his elbow.

"Yes, yes," Danixan said and, with a pleased sigh, his gaze fell on Kes. "Ah, my dear!" he said, and held both hands out toward her. "Who is this, Neelix? One of those rare Ocampan pixies if my eyes don't deceive me. Is she yours?"

Neelix bristled. "Her name is Kes, and, no. No, she's a free Ocampan," he said, even though he was sure his possessive arm about her shoulders didn't exactly back up his words. She was his, but not exactly… his. At least, he didn't think kisses were a display of platonic affection among Ocampans, and they had kissed. Once.

It had been more tantalizing than passionate. But so was Kes.

Things were complicated right now.

Things were always complicated.

"Oh!" Danixan's tragic cry came with a wink. "What a shame. You'd fetch an enviable price."

To Neelix's surprise, Kes didn't seem upset. She even smiled. "Well, thank you for the wonderful compliment, Danixan."

"She's here to trade for things she needs, too," Neelix jumped in before anyone got any ideas, "but I wanted to make the introduction between you and Lieutenant Riker personally. He's the ship's quartermaster, and, Lieutenant, may I officially present Mister Danixan. He's a reputable merchant, headhunter, and, if there's something you're looking for that he doesn't already have, odds are he can find it for you."

"Relatively reputable," Danixan said with a hearty slap on Neelix's shoulder. Neelix hoped that Riker didn't take his joking nature too seriously… he didn't seem the type. "Of course, Lieutenant Riker, I am pleased to meet you."

"I'm sure we'll get along splendidly, Mister Danixan."

Danixan chuckled. "Oh, come. We're friends now. Drop the title, it's just Danixan."

"In that case, you can call me Thomas," Riker said.

Neelix puffed up a bit at the successful introduction—though, granted, Riker seemed to be among the more personable members of the Defiant crew. Certainly more so that Misters Tuvok or Worf. Those were some tough and impenetrable nuts to crack…

And Neelix was going to, he just needed a few more days.

"There's a lovely café around the corner!" Danixan said, gesturing down the road. Neelix wondered if it was more an alleyway, then wondered if he shouldn't have selected the meeting place himself… But, then, Danixan knew the planet. "We can sit, eat, and discuss your needs."

Everyone agreed that seemed like a good idea, and Danixan, probably in view of a generous commission, offered to pay for everyone's meal. Riker and Ayala adventurously sampled some native specialties, while Neelix restrained himself to a soufflé that he thought he simply must have the recipe.

Danixan and Riker almost immediately got down to business, discussing the power requirements of the Defiant and the expensive antimatter the ship's warp core ran on. However, most importantly they required several components needed to increase the efficiency of that antimatter—and the components were significantly less dear. Danixan knew where to direct them to trade their medical supplies, their cultural items, and even the plans for some tactically-neutral technologies.

Before Danixan led Riker and Ayala off for further introductions, he directed Neelix and Kes to the nearest arm of the agricultural investiture. Neelix knew they could find their own way, and so bid Misters Riker and Ayala good luck before striking out into the city on their own.

Kes for nearly five minutes, stood in the town square staring up at the blue sky. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" she sighed, and looked at him.

Neelix glanced up at the sky for a moment before his eyes drifted back down to Kes in her soft pink-and-beige dress. "No, sweeting, I don't think I ever have."

She blushed, but scolded him. "Neelix."

He smiled, shuffling on his feet nervously in the distinct feeling that he really should kiss her again. It was the perfect day for it, after all. The Ilidarian birds were singing Ilidarian songs, and the sound of a distant fountain pattering a shallow pool underpinned the cheerful discussions of adults and laughing children. But, he wasn't sure that was their relationship.

She wasn't, after all, his.

"Shall we go? Or do you want to look at other things first?" Neelix asked, squinting off in the direction he'd seen Riker and Ayala disappear to. Of course, that was minutes ago. "I think it will take them a while to trade everything they—"

He stopped, looked down at Kes's hand slipped in his. "We can trade for the seeds and materials, and then explore," she said, wrapping both of her hands around his as they walked. "You've been here before, haven't you?"

"Yes, a few times."

"What do you like to see when you go to other planets?"

Neelix had never thought about it. He rarely went anywhere for pleasure, and, now, with his hand thoroughly ensconced in Kes's, he didn't think he'd ever have to go anywhere to find it. But, of course, the entire galaxy was new to Kes. Despite her experiences, it was a beautiful place of wonder—and wonderful people like that they'd met on the Defiant. It almost made Neelix trust something.

Of course, he had a plan. He could sell his and Kes's combadges for a decent amount should Captain Chakotay run off with the Baxial still in its hold. For all the affection he had for the rusty, trusty old girl… she wasn't worth much for a ship, though it would be a shame to lose her cargo. And Ilidaria wouldn't be a terrible place to be left behind.

He might have to explain to Kes it would be safer for her if he did, technically, own her, though.

"Well, some planets have zoological gardens," he said, and her eyes brightened, somehow, even more. "Botanical gardens, of course. I usually see them together. There's culture in theaters and music and galleries. State buildings are usually ostentatious, you know, to—"

"Where do the people get their food?" Kes interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"Where do the people live?" Kes asked, and gestured with one hand around excitedly. "You know, every day. Where do they work and go to school?"

Neelix had never been to such places. "You mean markets and things like that? Well, you know, I'm not sure…" he said. "But we could probably find some if that's really what you want to see."

"It is."

So they did. They learned they were in a town called Korant, a small division outside the planet's capital city, and the patron of the Korant arm of the agricultural investiture was extremely helpful. He gave Kes all the vegetable seeds she wanted in exchange for her Ocampan hydroponics garden plans. He even gave them samples to taste such that Neelix's head spun with all the wonderful things he could do with these vegetables.

The materials with which to build the hydroponics gardens proved a bit more complex to procure, even if finding them had been simple. Chakotay was a generous host, but Neelix had a feeling he would want to exact rent for the space the Baxial was occupying in the shuttle bay. In addition… he'd said this wasn't a passenger ship. Therefore, they shouldn't be passengers, but members of the crew. In the end, a full working hydroponics garden would be more valuable to him in terms of cargo should the Baxial and the Defiant part ways in the coming days. So, after some deliberation, Neelix decided to simply trade his own cargo, a mix of used ship parts and alien artifacts and technology that no one person would be interested in—save, perhaps, someone like Neelix.

They needed collectors to get the best prices.

They spent the rest of the afternoon travelling from antique shop to navigation supply storerooms. They made the acquaintance of many very interesting people, and Neelix was amazed at just how capable Kes was at sales—not because she was trying to sell anything, but because she seemed genuinely interested in what everyone they talked to had to say. One Ilidarian man drove a hard bargain for a set of pots Neelix had salvaged from a hollowed-out derelict picked over by a hundred other scavengers—but it turned out the pots were an exquisite example of something he referred to as pre-Jungan Normtl pottery.

Neelix had no idea what that meant, but if the man was delighted, then so was Neelix.

The proceeds from the pot purchased most of the growing lights they needed—which they got at a discount for a second round of Kes's offer of hydroponics garden plans.

Then, Neelix consented to trade a few more of his things to let Kes pick out some decorative items to make the Baxial more a home. To Neelix, it had been a home for coming up on a decade, and he only just realized how he'd really neglected the parts that would have made it homey.

Kes selected beautiful fabrics for curtains, pots for flowers that the agricultural curator had gifted her, and beautiful sheets to replace the rough and old hammock tarps they'd both been using to sleep in. Neelix spent perhaps a bit too long trying to arrange the Baxial to accommodate a double bed even as Kes seemed intent on keeping them sleeping in separate hammocks.

Because she wasn't, after all, his.

By the time the sun was low on the horizon, they'd procured many of the materials they needed. They asked Mister Tuvok to beam up the parts they'd traded for, and spent the rest of the evening strolling down one of the thoroughfares that Kes requested, where the people lived.

"It's so different from Ocampa," she said after they'd been walking, hand in hand, for about ten minutes.

"Most places are," Neelix said.

Kes seemed to find that amusing, which had been his goal. "I'm excited to start the hydroponics gardening."

"I'm shocked they didn't have leola root seeds." He glanced at her and smiled. "Shocked."

Kes grinned, tugging on his hand. "Me, too. I can't wait to taste them."

"They're very nutritious," Neelix said. "Though I hear the taste is an acquired one."

She laughed.

The sound was enough to make Neelix nearly forget the undercurrent of dissent on the Defiant. Of course, with a name like that he didn't expect it to be a particularly smooth voyage… "Dearest?" he wondered a second later, and Kes's attention turned on him in even more earnest. "What's your thoughts on the crew?"

"They seem lovely," Kes said, and knocked into him as she walked. "Why?"

"We've just done a lot of work for them today, and I want to be sure this is somewhere we want to stay long-term."

Kes smiled. "What's long-term?"

Neelix's heart sank. Somehow, Kes viewed the difference in lifespan between her and just about everyone else to be a source of amusing. To Neelix, it was anything but. He'd finally found someone he could fall in love with, someone he did fall in love with… and in the blink of an eye, seven or eight years maybe, she would be gone. She would have gray hair in five or six years. It would go as a flash, the brightest flash he had ever or would ever see, and he was already regretting his rotten luck.

Really, her rotten luck… but she didn't see it that way.

"Well, we're on a ship headed to the Alpha Quadrant seventy-five-thousand lightyears away," he said, and sighed. Shrugged. "It will take us seventy years to get there. Are you sure there isn't somewhere… somewhere else you'd rather go?"

"I'm not the best person to ask," she said, and her tone and turned serious. "After all, Neelix, you're the traveler between us. I'm just happy to be here, going anywhere."

"Even…?" He looked at her. "Even somewhere you'll never see?"

Kes frowned in what looked like deep concern. "That really bothers you."

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"No, not at all," she said, her head tilted like a pup xinit he once had. It died young, too. "Does it bother you that you'll never come back here if you keep going?"

He shrugged. "No, but… but that's different."

"Not really," she said. "I'm going to go places no Ocampan has ever gone before, see things no Ocampan has ever even imagined before. I got to see the place where the Caretaker lives, Neelix! I'm not going to waste time worrying about the things I'll never have time to see. It seems like a much better use of time to enjoy the things I can see."

Neelix felt his eyes fill with tears, and he blinked them away. She had no idea the things she would never see—but she was seeing so much, maybe this really was the best possible use of such a short life. He squeezed her hand. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure I want to see as much as I can," she said, "and just imagine all the people we can help as we go. I know my life seems short to you, and maybe it is. But just imagine how far this little life can reach on this ship."

"Alright." Neelix took another breath, blinked again, and looked away at the walkway ahead of them. A man was walking a small canine that looked not unlike his xinit. Two children kicked a ball in the grass nearby. The stars above them were in different constellations than those she could see from her little slave hovel on Ocampa... His heart hurt with the knowledge that her days were so short, and they'd spent one of them trading trinkets for machines, and she hadn't even gotten to see where the people lived.

Not really.

"Maybe we can come back here tomorrow," he offered. "I think Riker won't have everything he needs for several days. We won't be coming back to Ilidaria again, so… we should see as much of it as we can."

"What about the hydroponics gardens?" Kes asked.

"We'll have time on the way to the next place." She also didn't understand how long and boring space travel was. He resolved to take her down to every planet the Defiant stopped over, show her where the people lived. "We… we'll have a lot of time."

"We can go to the zoological gardens," she said.

"If you want."

His heart leaped into his throat and his lungs gripped his ribcage as Kes stood up on her toes and kissed him. Before he could properly respond, properly kiss her back, she drew away, and smiled. Her eyes were starlight.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"You're a very generous person, Neelix."

He didn't argue with her, even though she was wrong. That was one of the things he hoped she never saw.

#

B'Elanna slumped against the wall, her chuckle hoarse. "We should do this more often."

Jadzia smiled. "I'm game."

B'Elanna was clearly not what she'd call "traditionally trained" in Klingon martial arts. She'd actually told Jadzia that she thought the bat'leth was a clumsy and overstated weapon. Jadzia could only guess she was speaking more from a position of not knowing, since Jadzia had plenty of experience to the contrary.

Alright, so a bat'leth was a little overstated.

B'Elanna was, though, a Klingon street-fighter, if anything. She used her short stature and outsized strength to her advantage, and could have easily taken just about anyone (non-Klingon) in an unfair fight. The mats that Jadzia had set up in Cargo Bay Two weren't such a venue—B'Elanna had taken more than one hit to the nose, and it had been perfectly fair. B'Elanna, for all her strength, was no match for Jadzia's experience.

Jadzia was the traditional trained Klingon warrior here. Jadzia was neither clumsy nor overstated: B'Elanna was.

Still, after the first thirty minutes or so, Jadzia could tell B'Elanna was actually starting to enjoy herself. They'd been here for almost two and a half hours, and, like a frenetic puppy, she was finally starting to show signs of exhaustion.

"Again?" Jadzia asked, and straightened.

B'Elanna gulped in a breath of air, pressing off the wall. "Sure, let's go."

They squared off, and Jadzia found herself wishing again she had a more classically-trained opponent and a mek'leth, even if the bat'leth was her favorite. But, clearly, B'Elanna was much more interested in hand-to-hand sports and wrestling—probably because she was good enough without the training and discipline required to be much better.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jadzia asked as she waited for B'Elanna to make the first move.

"As long as I don't have to answer it." B'Elanna slid in close, from the side, giving Jadzia just enough time to twist away and avoid the take down.

"I'll take it." Jadzia circled closer, watching B'Elanna's eyes and the movement of her hips as she stepped. She wasn't clumsy, of course. She was just incredibly obvious. "What drew you to the Academy?"

B'Elanna's pleased expression, predictably, disappeared. As if in shock, her expression turned dark, and she dove in. After missing Jadzia by a wide margin, she shot back up and spun. "It was a mistake."

"I gathered that much." Jadzia slid her feet on the floor. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Does it matter?" B'Elanna snapped. "I was there for less than a year and, believe me, no one was sad to see me go." She huffed, and Jadzia thought she saw the edge of something she hadn't expected: hurt.

Was it possible that she wished it had worked out? Was it possible she was just trying to find some place to fit in?

There were all sorts of reasons—Jadzia had been after mastery. Julian was in it for the adventure, the opportunity to help as many people in as far-flung places as possible. Ben was after the responsibility of it, the calling.

Jadzia shrugged off her musings and took her own chance. She charged, managing to wrap her arms around B'Elanna's waist, and they both crashed to the floor. Jadzia landed on top even if she wasn't in the most advantageous position. "Professor Chapman was."

B'Elanna laughed, her eyes suddenly on her and daring. "Professor Chapman—I'm surprised he didn't help me pack my bags. No, I argued with him every day about everything. His methods, his assumptions, his… general competency."

Suddenly, B'Elanna thrashed and flipped them. She was, Jadzia had to admit for the tenth or so time today, strong. Jadzia was holding her own only because she knew what she was doing. In terms of raw strength, B'Elanna would take the win every time. Fortunately, a fight wasn't always just about strength.

After a few frenzied seconds, Jadzia wriggled out of B'Elanna's grip and found herself once again lying across B'Elanna's waist on top, her legs splayed to the side to spread her weight and make her harder to move. "Some professors like students who challenge them, you know," Jadzia offered, and B'Elanna's expression closed off again. "He put a letter in your permanent file that if you ever wanted to reapply he'd support you. He also said you were one of the most promising cadets he'd ever taught."

"I'd never go back, anyway."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that." Jadzia hesitated long enough to arrest B'Elanna's attempt to get away, and found herself with her wrist across B'Elanna's throat. "The commute would be terrible."

At least she did Jadzia the favor of smiling a little before tapping out of the choke hold.

Jadzia was pleased to finally be thinking that maybe Torres was getting tired. She certainly was. Jadzia crawled away a meter or so and sat, turning to her. "Look, Torres… the fact is that you still have the potential to be an outstanding officer. Lots of your former professors thought so, and Paswan thinks highly of you."

"Paswan doesn't know me," she snapped, and Jadzia had to agree she was right about that. It had been four days. "I didn't punch him in the nose."

That, she hadn't expected. B'Elanna sounded almost sorry. But she didn't elaborate on it, either.

"Well, yeah. Let's do our best to limit the number of broken noses if we can," she said, even though she was sure they both knew that an altercation like that couldn't be allowed to happen again. "Maybe you didn't fit in at the Academy, and, hell, maybe you won't fit in here. I don't know. But the Kirks never do."

B'Elanna scoffed, shook her head. "As if."

"He punched more than his fair share of people in his day."

"His day was a hundred years ago."

"And seventy-thousand lightyears away," Jadzia said, and B'Elanna was quiet. "It's obvious you're smart. You're clearly capable. But you're also impulsive, impatient, and arrogant."

"I—!"

"I'm not finished." Jadzia shot B'Elanna a glare and was surprised she didn't try to interrupt further. "Only the roughest edges need to be filed down. I know you won't apologize to Vorik until you actually are sincere, and I don't want to be your shadow for the next seventy years. So what's the problem?"

B'Elanna gave her a sidelong glance before looking back at the wall. "I apologized for punching him in the nose, but he wants me to grovel."

Jadzia tried to withhold her resentful anger and settle for surprise instead. "You're lucky Vulcans don't react to racial slurs the way, say, Bajorans do. And he accepted what might have been one of the worst apologies I've ever heard, so he obviously didn't want you to grovel." Actually… Jadzia had to wonder if Vorik wanted anything at all.

Unity. He probably wanted the engineering staff to work together efficiently, and he'd taken what he judged to be the best step toward that course. Jadzia didn't know if apologies were "illogical," but she thought certain types of offence probably were.

"What do you want, B'Elanna?" Jadzia asked suddenly.

"I want to go home," she answered more quickly than it looked like either of them expected. Even though she was embarrassed to some degree, she shrugged that off and continued. "I want to push the Cardassians back into their space and give the Maquis their homes back."

"But why?" Jadzia asked. "You're not from anywhere near there."

"Seska saved my life once," she said, and shrugged like it was nothing important. "She and Riker, but mostly Seska. She—" B'Elanna stopped talking, Jadzia could see her almost biting her tongue.

"She what?"

"She asked me to join Riker's cell." B'Elanna sighed, and shook her head. "I still don't know why she did that. But I haven't had a lot of people, you know… ask me to stick around."

And, of course, Chakotay had threatened to put her off the ship. Riker, too.

"I owe her," B'Elanna added, to a much more familiar Klingon sensibility. "And Riker."

Jadzia nodded, and decided not to voice her musings about Chakotay and Riker also really not wanting to put her off the ship. She didn't have any evidence of that, though. "Fair enough."

"How long do you have to babysit me?" B'Elanna asked, suddenly, as she stood up and looked around the empty cargo bay as if she'd never seen it before. Maybe she hadn't.

It looked like all other cargo bays to Jadzia. "I don't know. How long do you think it'll take?"

She sighed, and the smile she gave Jadzia then was almost genuine. "If you're waiting for a genuine apology, you might want to get used to the night shift."