Summary:  Very AU.  B’Elanna and Tom reunite six years after 
B’Elanna’s 
departure from the Academy.  
But in this universe, the circumstances are a bit different.  
Sequel to 
“Dynamics.”

Notes:  Dynamics was a story I felt could fit into the canonical 
universe.  
Dynamics 2 cannot.  So part one 
can be taken as a prequel to both canon and to Dynamics 2.  Here’s 
how I 
reckoned the timeline.  As of the 
beginning of season 6, a.k.a. the end of season 5, B’Elanna hadn’t 
spoken to her 
mother for 10 years.  Also, 
in DS9’s season 5, we learn that the Jem’Hadar have eliminated the 
Maquis.  That 
was equivalent to 
Voyager’s season 3, so at that time B’Elanna was in her 8th year 
separated from 
her mother.  Assuming that 
she entered the Academy immediately after leaving Kessik and that 
she dropped 
out in her second year, 
that would leave six years in between her dropping out and the 
Maquis 
destruction.  Got it? No?  E-mail me 
for a more coherent explanation.  And no, I did not write this 
story as a ploy 
to get more mail.  ;-)

Acknowledgement:  This story owes its life to Shani, who gave me 
the inspiration 
to write a sequel.  Thank 
you!

Disclaimer:  Voyager belongs to Paramount.  I am just pond scum.  
But I own the 
story, so tell me what 
you think: Zorb17@aol.com

Dynamics 2

	They would have called it the Slum of the Galaxy if it had 
been worth 
calling anything.   The 
official name was Misera IV, and average sized planet averagely 
populated by an 
average mixture of 
minority species from around the quadrant.  With the exception of 
a few traders, 
there was no real upper 
class.  People lived routine, undistinguishable lives.  The smart 
ones left or 
got rich; most left.  A quiet 
planet on the outskirts of the Federation, Misera went unnoticed.  
The 
Federation bigwigs had bigger fish to 
fry.
	A medium sized continent on Misera had only one large city, 
although 
calling it a city was 
probably an overstatement.  Its narrow, unpaved streets 
haphazardly wove through 
town, shadowed by the 
thick earthen buildings lining them.  A close watcher could see a 
small figure 
carefully make its way 
through one of the darker roads, cloaked in a thick black hooded 
cape, eyes 
downcast while passing pawn 
shops and dealer’s stands.  The casual observer wouldn’t have 
noticed, so well 
did the being blend into the 
street.  Occasionally a dark lock of hair would fall out of place 
and be seen, 
but a bronze hand immediately 
shoved it back under the hood.  On Misera, anonymity was the key 
to survival.
	Silently, the figure turned the corner into a less crowded 
passageway, 
speeding up to reach a plaza 
unadorned with shops and stands.  Keeping its back to the wall, 
the figure 
finally lifted its head and glanced 
around as if looking for someone.  Left untended, the hood slipped 
off to hang 
on the revealed woman’s 
back.  She didn’t notice, her dark eyes still searching, the 
beginnings of an 
impatient scowl on her face.
	Sensing a new arrival, she tensed.  The new, bigger figure 
emerged from 
the shadows and let fall 
its own hood.  His beady eyes focused on the woman, and he 
approached her, 
removing a cloth-covered 
parcel from his cloak.  She reached for it, but his arm drew back.
	“You have the payment, I presume?”  His voice could have 
sent shivers down 
a Romulan’s back.
	“Of course.  I’ll inspect the merchandise first.”
	He held out the package but kept a firm grip on it.  The 
woman’s slightly 
ridged forehead wrinkled 
as she completed her examination.
	“Satisfied?”  At her nod, he held out a bony hand, into 
which she placed a 
few bars of latinum.  He 
counted as she took the parcel.
	“This was not the amount we agreed on.”
	“You’re mistaken.  That’s exactly the price you asked.”
	“It is not.”
	She bristled.  “It is, you miserable excuse for a—”
	“Listen, half-breed—”
	“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to insult people’s 
backgrounds?” a new 
voice interrupted from 
behind the woman.  She froze, uncertain of where the greater 
danger was.  The 
trader lifted his eyes to the 
newcomer.
	“You brought an associate.  That was not part of the 
agreement,” he said 
coldly, returning his gaze 
to the woman.  She held the glare.  “This is our final 
transaction.”  And with 
that declaration he stole back 
into the shadows from whence he came.
	She heard the newcomer begin to retreat.  Replacing her hood, 
she turned.  
“Wait.”  He stopped, 
his back to her.  “Thank you.”
	“Anytime.”  He started to leave again.
	“Hold on.  How can I repay you?”
	“You don’t need to.  I’m leaving.”
	“At least let me see your face.”  After a moment’s pause, he 
faced her 
again.  Two fair hands 
reached up and pushed back his hood.  Piercing blue eyes mounted 
on a dark blond 
head looked back at 
her.  She gasped in surprised, then slowly mimicked his action.
	Now it was his turn to be surprised.  “B’Elanna?”
	“Tom,” she answered.  The air was heavy with unasked, 
unanswered 
questions.  B’Elanna 
recovered after half a moment’s pause, glanced furtively around, 
and replaced 
her hood.  “Come on.”  She 
wrapped her purchase in her robe and turned down an alley, 
resuming her previous 
shrouded air.  He 
followed.  They soon disappeared into the crowds, leaving the 
little plaza empty 
once more.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	It seemed to Tom Paris that they were wandering in circles, 
but B’Elanna 
Torres obviously knew 
where she was going.  They approached a dilapidated brick shop 
with one tiny, 
dirt-covered window.  A 
figure huddled in rags sat by the doorstep, not an unusual sight 
on Misera.  
B’Elanna leaned over and 
whispered something to him, and Tom caught a glimpse of what could 
have been a 
Bajoran earring.  
B’Elanna straightened and motioned for Tom to follow her inside.
	The store’s interior looked just like any other on Misera 
with one 
difference.  Although it had 
counters and shelves laden with wares, no swindling shopkeeper was 
in sight.  
B’Elanna shook off her 
hood.  “Wait here.  I’ll be right back,” she instructed, striding 
quickly into 
the back room.
	Tom removed his hood, his mind reeling.  B’Elanna Torres was 
the last 
person he expected to see 
here.  Hell, he hadn’t seen her since the Academy.  Not that he 
hadn’t thought 
about her since then…
	How in the cosmos did she end up here?  Obviously, a lot had 
changed since 
the Academy days – 
for both of them.  He sighed and drummed his fingers on a counter, 
his eyes 
fixed on the door.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	Bypassing the stairs in the back room, B’Elanna dashed 
through the movable 
bookcase, clambered 
up the hidden wooden stairs, and barged into the second story 
office.  Chakotay 
looked up from his book.
	“What took you so long?  I was about to send Dalby.”
	“Terchak decided the price wasn’t right.  I eventually got 
through to him, 
but we’ve lost a good 
supplier.”  She set down her load.
	“Damn.  How soon will we be ready to leave this godforsaken 
planet?”
	“We’ve got most of the parts we need, and we can get the 
rest from more 
sympathetic sources.”
	“Not good quality.”
	“It’ll hold us together until we can make another stop.”
	He sighed.  “I suppose so.  I’ll have Dalby contact some of 
our other 
‘friends.’  Speaking of 
which, Gerron tells me you brought a visitor.”
	“He’s an old friend from the Academy.  He helped me out with 
Terchak.”  
She explained what had 
happened in the plaza.
	“What were you thinking?” Chakotay exploded.  “He’s 
Starfleet.  You 
brought one of them right 
to us!”
	“Calm down, he’s completely trustworthy.”
	“How long have you known him?”
	“Well, I knew who he was the whole time I was a cadet.  We 
only became 
friends in the last two 
weeks I was there.”
	“Two weeks? And you think you know him well enough to trust 
him?  It’s 
been a long time, 
Torres.  You have got to think before exposing our location!”
	“Stop talking to me like I’m a seven year old, Chakotay!  I 
am positive 
Tom won’t squeal.  You 
can ask him yourself, I left him in the front room.”  She glared 
at him until he 
relented.
	“If I’m going to talk to him, I need to know his name.”
	“Tom.  Tom Paris.  And he doesn’t know anything about us.  I 
just led him 
here.”
	“Tom Paris.  Sounds familiar, but…” He shook his head and 
started 
downstairs, B’Elanna 
following closely behind.
	Tom was startled out of his reverie as a big Indian man 
entered, followed 
closely by B’Elanna.  
The man suspiciously scrutinized him, while B’Elanna looked at Tom 
supportively.  
What had he gotten 
himself into this time?
	The man fixed him with a steely glare.  “So.  You’re a 
friend of 
B’Elanna’s.  How close a friend?”
	“Uh, we didn’t really know each other very long at the 
Academy, but I’d 
say we were pretty 
close.”
	He nodded.  “Starfleet Academy, huh?  What field?”
	“Command, but I prefer piloting,” Tom replied bitterly.  
This conversation 
was dredging up 
unwanted memories.
	“What’s your posting?”
	He snorted.  “I don’t have one.”
	“Shore leave?”
	“You could call it that.”  He crossed his arms.
	The interrogator didn’t look too pleased with Tom’s attitude.  
“Tom Paris.  
Any relation to 
Admiral Paris?”
	“The Admiral,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm, 
“is my father.”
	Realization flashed over the dark-haired man’s face.  “Now I 
remember.  
You were the one who 
got booted from the Fleet for that Caldik Prime incident.”  Tom 
winced inwardly 
but kept his face straight.  
“Care to explain?”
	“Not particularly.”
	He turned to B’Elanna.  “All right, he can stay.  But be 
careful.”  He 
returned to the back room.
	B’Elanna breathed a sigh of relief.  She’d been so worried 
Chakotay would 
find something about 
Tom too objectionable.  Although he obviously didn’t like Tom, at 
least he 
wasn’t going to kick him out.
	Tom relaxed, too.  “Who put the coolant in his coffee?”
	“Come on, let’s go upstairs so we can talk.”  She led him to 
the back and 
up the regular staircase, 
not wanting to risk another encounter with Chakotay.
	The trip gave her time to formulate her thoughts.  Chakotay’s 
little 
interrogation posed so many 
questions for her to ask; she could only imagine how many Tom had 
for her.
	They reached the second floor hallway and turned left into 
the deserted 
women’s quarters.  
B’Elanna plopped down on her cot and motioned for Tom to do the 
same.  They sat 
there staring at each 
other with giddy smiles.  “So how are you?” they asked 
simultaneously.
	“Ladies first.”
	“Since when am I a lady?  You first.”
	“Fine.  First question: who was that guy?”  He kept his tone 
light, but he 
was worried.  For all he 
knew, Tattoo Man was her husband.
	“He’s Chakotay, our…leader.  Listen Tom, there’s something 
you should know 
before I go on.”  
He nodded.  This was a major risk, but she trusted him.  “I’m not 
the same 
person I was six years ago.  You 
must have heard of the Maquis in Starfleet.”  He nodded again, 
eyes intent on 
her face.  “After wandering 
around doing odd jobs for a year and a half, I joined them.  When 
the Jem’Hadar 
began – exterminating us, 
we knew the movement was over.  Some people didn’t want to quit – 
they said it 
was better to die fighting.  
But most of us were more practical.  Our ship and some other ones 
went into 
hiding.  Since then, we’ve lost 
track of everyone; we only hear when someone’s been caught.  We’ve 
been hiding 
out on inconspicuous 
planets.  There’re five of us here.  We had more…We’re trying to 
repair the ship 
so we can get off this 
rock.  But I don’t know what we’ll do then.”
	He whistled.  “So you’re trying to remain quiet until the 
Federation 
forgets about you?”
	“That’s the idea.  All right, now I’m depressed.  Tell me 
what you’ve been 
up to.  It can’t be more 
depressing than my story.”
	“I don’t know about depressing, but it’s definitely more 
pathetic.  I 
graduated from the Academy 
and earned a nice spot on a Galaxy-class ship, not as chief pilot 
but as the 
first replacement.  The captain 
saw that I was at least as good as the chief helmsman, but it was 
too soon to 
promote me so I got sent on 
lots of away missions.”  He closed his eyes a moment, a pained 
expression 
briefly warping his face.  “Then 
came Caldik Prime, which I’d rather not go into.  Suffice it to 
say I screwed up 
and three people died as a 
result.  At the inquiry, I lied about it and was allowed to resume 
my post – I 
even got promoted – but my 
conscience got the best of me, and I had to tell the truth.  I was 
booted from 
the Fleet.  Since then, I’ve been 
wandering, footloose and fancy free.”  Six years had augmented 
his sarcasm.  
“Actually, meeting up with 
you is the first good thing that’s happened to me in a long 
time.”  His voice 
took a lighter tone.  “So, there’s 
five of you here.  Any room for one more?”
*	*	*	*`	*	*	*	*
	Tom grunted as he readjusted the console on his shoulder, 
cables and wires 
dangling down his 
back.  Next to him, Ken Dalby was breathing heavily under the 
weight of his own 
load.  Although Tom had 
been with the Maquis for only a month, he felt like he’d made this 
trip into the 
woods a hundred times.  
Good thing, too; it was hard enough just concentrating on carrying 
his load 
without having to think about 
where he was going.  The day was warm, so the two men wore 
sleeveless shirts and 
light pants, but they 
were still sweating and Tom could feel his bare shoulders turning 
pink.  
Thankfully, they’d soon reach their 
destination.
	After carefully negotiating some seemingly impassible shrubs, 
they finally 
emerged into a broad 
clearing and approached the secret within.
	“Hey, B’Elanna,” Tom called.
	There was a thunk and a string of curses.  B’Elanna poked her 
head out of 
the ship’s hatch.  She 
did not look pleased.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing 
sneaking up on 
me like that, Paris?  Get 
that equipment in here, I’ve been waiting for you for twenty 
minutes!”
	Tom smiled as she disappeared back into the ship.  She was 
gorgeous when 
she was angry.  Not 
that he’d ever tell her that.  She’d bite his head off – 
literally.
	“And put on some sun block – unless you want to look like a 
Ktarian fire 
slug!”
	Shaking his head, he followed Dalby into the Liberty.  
Although her 
exterior markings had been 
changed, her crew retained the old, proud name.  Parts of her had 
been so 
modified with alien technology 
that they were almost unrecognizable.  He could see B’Elanna’s 
legs sticking out 
from under a console.  
Deciding it would be better not to antagonize her any further, the 
men gently 
set down their burdens and 
collapsed on the floor.
	“There’s some water by the hatch,” B’Elanna called.  They 
found it along 
with the sun block and 
sat resting in silence.
	After half an hour, she finally emerged.  Her hair was mussed 
and she had 
a streak of grease 
across her right cheek.  Tom tried unsuccessfully to hold back his 
laughter.
	She glared at him.  “What’s so funny?”  To hysterical to 
reply, he pointed 
at her cheek.  She 
snatched a rag and angrily wiped her face.  “Very funny, 
hotshot.”  She made the 
rag into a ball and 
threatened to throw it at him.
	“Gee, look at the time!  We’d better go back for the rest,” 
he said, 
nervously stealing towards the 
door.  Dalby grinned and followed him.
	“Not so fast, Mister!  I need you to run some flight 
simulations.”
	He turned to Dalby.  “Can you handle the rest?”
	“Sure.  If I need help I can get someone else.”  With a 
wave, he departed 
back along the trail.
	“I’ve rerouted everything to be accessible from the bridge,” 
B’Elanna 
said, setting a brisk pace.  If 
her legs hadn’t been so much shorter that his he would have been 
left behind.  
He followed silently, and for 
lack of anything better to do his eyes wandered to said legs.  
Discretely, of 
course.  He didn’t need to make 
her any angrier.
	They reached the cramped bridge, and she motioned for him to 
sit at the 
helm.
	“The program’s all set up.  I need you to tell me how the 
new systems will 
affect helm control.”
	“No problem.”  Slowly, almost reverently, he sat in the 
chair.  He raised 
his hands to the console, 
fingertips lightly touching the smooth surface.  When Starfleet 
booted him, he’d 
feared he’d never get a 
chance to fly again.  Now, here he was, seated at a ship’s helm 
once again.  He 
knew it would only be for a 
short time, so he promised himself to treasure every moment.
	B’Elanna watched him as he drifted, lost in thought, and a 
small smile 
turned up a corner of her 
mouth.  “Get to work, Paris, I haven’t got all day,” she said 
lightly, breaking 
his reverie.  He flashed her a 
now-familiar smile, the one that made her whole body light up, and 
got to work.
	Still smiling, she eased under the engineering station, such 
as it was.  
It never ceased to amaze her 
– this ship had been through so much, for so long, but each time 
B’Elanna had 
been able to patch her back 
together.  She was secretly proud of the fact that she could 
recite the location 
of each and every coupling 
and conduit on the Liberty.
	They worked in silence for awhile.
	“Damn!”
	“B’Elanna?”
	“The sensor shield is fluctuating.  I knew it couldn’t hold 
up this long.  
Unless we find a way to fix 
it, it’ll collapse in an hour.”
	He paused the simulation.  The shield was the only thing that 
stopped them 
from being detected by 
planetary security.  “How can I help?”
	“Go get that Federation equipment you brought earlier.  
Hurry!”
	He disappeared, and she backed out from underneath the 
console.  A Ferengi 
trader had sold them 
this – what was it called?  Gel-pack, that was it – for a low 
price, thinking it 
had no value.  Through hours 
of scanning, analyzing, and rescanning, B’Elanna had finally 
determined how it 
worked.  She was still 
uncertain if it would integrate into the existing systems, but at 
this point it 
was her only option to replace 
the worn-out isolinear chips.
	Tom soon returned with the gel-pack.  “You sure you know how 
to use this 
thing?”
	“I guess we’ll find out.  Hand it over.”  He did, swallowing 
nervously.  
It wasn’t that he didn’t 
trust her engineering skills; he just didn’t feel like dying just 
yet.
	After and intense five minutes, she lifted her head, smiling 
triumphantly.  
“The shield is stable and 
operating at maximum efficiency.”
	*God, she’s beautiful when she smiles.*  He grinned back, 
relieved and 
proud.  “Well, now that 
we’ve averted disaster, I’ll get back to work.”
	“Actually, why don’t we take a break.  I’m starving.”
	“I’ll bet you haven’t eaten since 0400.”  She didn’t reply, 
confirmation 
enough.
	They returned to the hatch and sat outside with their food, 
leaning 
against the ship and letting the 
afternoon sun warm their bones.
	“Ken should have reached the supply barrack by now,” Tom 
remarked.
	“So soon?  It took you guys hours to get out here before.”
	“Yeah, but now he’s unburdened.  And he’s so eager to see 
his girlfriend 
that he does things twice 
as fast as normal.”
	“Right, Melinda.  Last I knew, she was on the Skylark.  I 
don’t know how 
he expects us to find 
them once we leave Misera.”
	“Umm.”  He took a swallow from the canteen.  “How about 
everyone else?  Do 
they have anyone 
eagerly awaiting their return?”
	“Not as far as I know.”
	“Not even Chakotay?”
	She laughed ruefully.  “Not anymore.  His girlfriend Seska 
abandoned us 
when the Maquis split 
up.  Said she had better things to do than hang around a bunch of 
has-beens.”
	“Ouch.”  He paused, debating his next statement.  “How 
about…you?”  He 
turned his head to her, 
clear blue eyes cautiously searching brown.
	She felt her cheeks flushing and turned away.  “No. No one…”  
*Since you!* 
her mind screamed 
at her to say.  But she couldn’t.  She didn’t dare.
	He sensed her discomfort and dropped the subject.  “This is 
going to sound 
weird, but this kind of 
reminds me of the camping trip to the Sierras we took when I was 
twelve.  My dad 
decided we would do 
things ‘the old-fashioned way,’ so we brought a couple of canvas 
tents and 
electric lamps.  When we got to 
the site, Dad insisted on setting up both tents himself.  Said it 
was ‘man’s 
work.’”  He rolled his eyes.  “So 
he spent all day setting them up.  He finally finished and told 
everybody to 
climb in and test them out.  My 
sisters were in one, my parents another.  They’d just gotten in 
when both 
structures collapsed.  They spent 
at least five minutes yelling and squirming around, trying to free 
themselves 
and getting more tangled in 
the process.  Luckily, my mother had the foresight to bring along 
a Starfleet-
issue shelter.  We spent the 
rest of the afternoon sitting against the shelter, laughing at the 
remnants of 
the tents.”  He was smiling 
fondly at the memory, and B’Elanna was softly chuckling beside 
him.
	“And just where were you during this?  Shouldn’t you have 
helped with the 
‘man’s work’?”
	“Probably, but I ran off to explore as soon as we arrived.  
I saw the 
whole thing from the branches 
of a nearby tree.”
	Now she was full out laughing.  “Laughing your head off, I’m 
sure.”
	He smiled back at her and then sobered.  “I think that was 
the last time 
my whole family was truly 
happy together.  After that…something changed.”  He shook his 
head.  “But that’s 
not important.  You 
don’t want to hear about it.”
	She looked at him sincerely.  “I do.  Really, go on.”  *No 
pressure, Tom, 
you can tell me if you 
want.*
	He sighed, and she wasn’t sure if he would continue.  Then he 
took a 
breath.  “My father, as you 
probably know, comes from a long line of distinguished Starfleet 
officers, so of 
course, he wanted me to 
carry on the Paris legacy.  And like any normal, strong-willed 
kid, I disagreed.  
I spent my adolescence 
arguing with him over my every action.  But every time, I ended up 
exactly where 
he wanted me – on the 
fast track to Starfleet glory.  Even after I graduated, he still 
wasn’t 
satisfied.  I could never do 
enough…never.  Caldik Prime was the breaking point.  As I was 
cashiered out of 
the Fleet, he looked at 
me.  There was no sympathy or comfort in his eyes, only 
disapproval and 
disappointment.  Then he turned 
away.”  His gaze was distant.  “I haven’t seen him since.”
	“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly.
	“It’s okay.  I’ve gotten over it,” he lied transparently.  
“So what about 
your family?  You must 
have had some adventures together.”
	She gave a harsh laugh, and her look had an edge to it.  
“Adventures?  
Living with my mother was 
an adventure in itself.”
	“She was the Klingon, huh?  But your father must have 
softened her up 
some.”
	“My father left when I was five.  I don’t know where he is.”
	“Oh.  I didn’t know.  Sorry.”
	“Forget it, you couldn’t have known.”  She sighed.  “The 
only time I can 
remember my parents 
being happy together was a trip we took when I was three.  Kessik 
didn’t have 
many large bodies of water, 
but there was this one lake about a hundred kilometers from our 
house.  It was 
really nothing extraordinary, 
but I always thought it was the most beautiful spot in the galaxy; 
it was the 
one place where we were all 
happy.  At peace.  After my father left, I would go there to get 
away from my 
mother and her incessant 
demands that I be more Klingon.  The day I left for the Academy 
was the last 
time I went there.  It was a 
crisp, clear day – just like when we were all there.  It put me in 
such a good 
mood that I decided to say 
goodbye to my mother, even thought we’d have a huge fight earlier.  
Bu when I 
got home…she’d locked 
the door and changed the codes.”  She rubbed a hand over her 
eyes.  She wasn’t 
going to cry.  She couldn’t 
– wouldn’t be that weak.  Tentatively, he touched her shoulder, 
calming her 
agitated nerves.  Shaking free 
of the unwanted memories, she launched into a story involving her, 
some Maquis 
friends, two unsuspecting 
Cardassians, and a Bolian chicken.  Laughing, they chatted about 
this and that, 
both relieved not only that 
the gloomy mood was broken, but also to have gotten some weight 
off their 
shoulders.
	There was a lull in the conversation.  “B’Elanna, can I ask 
you something?  
You don’t have to 
answer if you don’t want to.”
	“Go ahead,” she replied.  *You hardly know him! He could be 
asking you 
anything!* her mind 
screamed at her.  But her instincts won out.
	“How come you’re having me do these simulations?  Shouldn’t 
Chakotay?  You 
know, since he’s 
the pilot and all.”
	“I remembered how you always used to talk about flying.  
Actually, I saw 
you in one of those 
simulator competitions, before we met.  The stunts you pulled – 
well, I’ve never 
seen anything like it, 
before or since.  Chakotay’s good, but you’re incredible.”  She 
glanced at his 
stunned expression.  “I want 
only the best…for the ship,” she added quickly.  He remained 
speechless.  She 
smiled wryly.  “Don’t 
worry, Paris.  You’ll fly again.”  She stood up and stretched.  
“Come on, let’s 
get back to work.  We 
wouldn’t want Ken to find us slacking off.”
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	B’Elanna collapsed exhausted into her bed that night long 
after dark.  
Tom, Ken, and she had 
made so much progress today.  The Liberty would be ready to go 
within a week.  
What a day!  The repairs 
had been physically and mentally challenging; her conversation 
with Tom was an 
emotional challenge.  
Though her body was tired, her mind was alert and churning.  She 
could hear 
Maggie Henley’s deep, even 
breathing on the other side of the room.  Softly, B’Elanna rolled 
over on the 
bed and reached underneath, 
practiced hands easily finding a familiar box, which she carefully 
lifted onto 
the bed.
	Maggie was a deep sleeper, but even so, B’Elanna was careful 
not to make a 
sound as she lifted 
the lid and felt though the treasures inside as she had done on so 
many previous 
nights.  She carefully 
removed a tattered old book her father had given her – Mother 
Goose’s Nursery 
Rhymes – and let the worn 
pages fall open to reveal a few delicate floral sprigs pressed 
between pages 146 
and 147.  She touched the 
petals, carefully raised them to her face, trying to recapture a 
time long gone.
	She remembered the day they were given to her as clearly as 
if it were 
yesterday.
**
	B’Elanna heard a knock on the dorm room door.  “Come in, 
Tom, it’s open.”  
She could hear 
footfalls as her favorite and only tutee entered.  “I’m in the 
other room.  I’ll 
be right out.”  Excited, she 
strode into the room.  Grinning broadly, Tom brought a colorful 
bouquet of 
flowers from behind his back 
and held them out to her, rendering her absolutely speechless.
	“These are to thank you.  I just got my test back – and I 
got an A!”
	“Tom, that’s fantastic!  I guess that means you won’t need 
my help 
anymore.”
	He shook his head vehemently.  “No way would I stop this.  
You’re the only 
one who can make 
me understand this stuff.  I need you.”  His words made her 
insides glow.  
“Please say you’ll still tutor 
me?”
	“Of course.”  She knew he could probably succeed in Warp 
Core Dynamics by 
himself, but she’d 
take any excuse to spend time with him.  “Let me put these in 
water.”  As she 
took the flowers from him, 
their hands and eyes met.  She felt silly – giddy – wonderful!  
And she’d never 
come close to feeling that 
way before.
**
	A bird’s mournful call returned B’Elanna to the present.  
Kahless, how 
many times had she put 
herself through this torture?  When Tom had come back into her 
life, the old 
feelings had begun stirring 
within her.  But when she was alone and able to think rationally, 
she would 
despair.  They’d both had a 
rough six years, and she knew she was a different person.  He had 
changed too; 
she could see it in his eyes, 
which no longer held their old boyish confidence, although they 
certainly hadn’t 
lost any of their charm.  
But what had once begun to exist between two cadets was gone 
forever.  All she 
had to comfort herself 
with were a few broken, fading flowers.
	At one time, she’d though he might return her feelings; now 
she had no 
idea, but that didn’t mean 
she couldn’t help him.  She’d promised him he would fly again.  
The first step 
there was to work on 
Chakotay.  The Maquis leader had disliked Tom from the beginning, 
and even 
though he’d proved to be a 
helpful addition to the rebel cell, Chakotay still didn’t trust 
him.  B’Elanna 
swore she would find some way 
to put Tom at the Liberty’s helm.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	B’Elanna peeked out the window for the hundredth time.  “Why 
won’t those 
bastards leave 
already?” she demanded.  Knowing the question was rhetorical, Tom 
stood silently 
supportive.
	Chakotay entered.  “What’s going on?”
	She stopped her pacing and jabbed a finger at the curtained 
window.  
“Starfleet.  They’re 
patrolling the streets.”
	Chakotay froze.  Ever so slowly, he turned cold black eyes on 
Tom.  He 
spoke softly, words biting 
like icy wind.  “I knew it was a mistake to let one of you people 
in.  Traitor!  
You brought your friends 
right to our doorstep.”
	“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  They kicked me 
out, remember?  
Fleeters are no friends 
of mine.”
	“Liar.”
	Tom’s mask hardened.  “I am many things, Chakotay, but I am 
not a liar.  
Ever since I stepped in 
these doors, my only loyalty has been to this cell.”
	“Why should I believe you?”
	“Stop it, both of you!” B’Elanna cried, stepping between the 
men as they 
drew dangerously close 
together.
	“Stay out of this, B’Elanna,” they ordered simultaneously.  
B’Elanna was 
about to tell them just 
what she thought of that order when providence intervened.
	“Gerron to Chakotay,” the ancient, jury-rigged communicator 
squawked.
	Not taking his eyes off Tom, Chakotay grabbed the receiver.
“Chakotay here.”
	“You can relax, we haven’t been detected.  The Feds are here 
because some 
idiot Ferengi broke 
into their headquarters.  Security might be tighter from now on, 
though.”
	He ignored Tom’s smug grin as B’Elanna moved over to the 
younger man, 
lightly touching his 
elbow.  “I guess that’s our cue to move out.  Remain at your post 
and keep me 
informed.  Chakotay out.”  
He turned an unreadable eye on his companions.  “You heard me.  
You have half an 
hour to pack.”  With 
that, he left the room.
	“Tom, don’t listen to what he says.  About you, I mean. 
Chakotay feels 
betrayed by Starfleet.  He 
joined thinking of it as this benevolent, altruistic force, and 
since he learned 
the truth – well, he never 
recovered.”
	“That’s no reason to blame it on me!” he replied.
	She silently agreed.  “Let’s go.  We have to pack.”
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
They staggered their departures and took different routes to avoid 
suspicion, 
regrouping after an 
hour on the Liberty’s bridge.
	“All right, listen up, because I’m only going to say this 
once,” Chakotay 
instructed.  “Avoiding 
deception is our primary objective.  If we get caught, it’s over.  
I’ll take the 
helm; Dalby’s at tactical, 
Torres at engineering.  Gerron, Henley – stay below and keep 
things together.  
We can access every system 
from the bridge, but we’ll need you for manual patching.  Once 
we’ve broken 
orbit, we’ll travel on the 
outskirts of Federation territory until we come up with something 
better.  Good 
luck.”  Dismissed them 
with a nod, and the crew hurried off.
	All but one.  “Captain,” said Tom, “what should I do?”
	B’Elanna, who had hung back, could see the Chakotay’s 
indecision.  He 
didn’t trust Paris enough 
to let him loose below decks, but neither did he want him 
cluttering up the 
bridge.  She spoke up.  “Tom 
could man communications.  It would give us less to worry about.”
	The big Indian remained disgruntled, but her suggestion made 
too much 
sense to ignore.  “Fine.  
But stay out of the way.”  With that, he strode briskly to the 
conn.  Tom threw 
B’Elanna a thankful grin, 
and she smiled back quickly before sliding onto her stool.  Its 
hard surface 
reminded her of the difficulties 
ahead, and she reluctantly pushed away thoughts of the handsome 
man at 
communications.
	Pre-flight was over quickly, and before B’Elanna knew it 
Chakotay was 
slowly lifting the ship off 
the ground.  In some ways, this was the most dangerous part of the 
trip, for 
they were exposed to the 
Miserans’ eyes, if not their sensors.  They hoped to blend into 
the regular 
pattern of trade ship arrivals and 
departures from various spots on the continent.  But there was 
always a chance…
	B’Elanna breathed a sigh of relief as they cleared the upper 
atmosphere.  
Now all they had to do 
was clear the system and – 
	“Captain, there’s a Federation starship in orbit.  Miranda 
class,” Dalby 
reported.
	“Nobody make any sharp moves.  They shouldn’t notice us.  We 
could 
probably take them, but I’d 
rather not find out,” Chakotay replied.  “Torres, how’s – ”
	“They’re hailing us, Captain,” Tom interrupted.
	“Ignore them.  B’Elanna, I need all you can give me.”
	“Aye, Captain.”  Damn, why couldn’t things go right for 
once?
	“Unknown vessel, this is the Federation starship Marlowe.  
You are not 
cleared for departure.  
Identify yourselves or we will be forced to fire.”
	“They’re charging weapons.”
	“Prepare to return fire.  Maximum shields.  I’m preparing 
evasive 
maneuvers.”
	The Marlowe fired, rocking the tiny Liberty.
	“Shields at 87%.”
	“Engaging evasive pattern delta.”
	“Our weapons are having no effect!”
	BOOM.  Dalby was thrown out of his seat and he scrambled to 
regain it.
	“Shields down to 63%.”
	“I need – ” BOOM!  B’Elanna instinctually knew they’d been 
on the 
receiving end of a torpedo.  
The Liberty’s entire crew was knocked violently to the floor.  She 
quickly leapt 
up.  No exploded consoles, 
good, Ken and Tom were helping each other up, and – 
	“Chakotay!”  She rushed to the fallen man.  He had a bloody 
gash along his 
face and seemed 
barely conscious.
	Tom’s voice drew her attention.  “They’ve stopped firing and 
are 
requesting that we lower shields 
and prepare to be boarded.  And they demand an answer.”
	There was silence as both men looked to her for guidance.  
She rose 
slowly.  “They want an 
answer?  Fine.  Tom, get in that pilot’s chair.  Show us what 
you’ve got.”
	No talk, no arguments.  They resumed their stations, leaving 
Chakotay on 
the floor – probably the 
safest place for him right now.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	On the Marlowe’s bridge, Commander Jackson stood gazing at 
his wounded 
quarry.  It wouldn’t 
be long now before the ship surrendered and he found out what 
goods they were 
smuggling.  Jackson could 
almost picture the ceremony:  *For bravery and valor on behalf of 
the 
Federation, I hereby award you the 
rank of – *
	“Captain,” said Lieutenant Keyes, using the standard term 
for any vessel’s 
commander.
	Jackson sighed.  “Yes, Lieutenant?”
	“They’re not responding, sir.  The ship’s just sitting 
there.”
	The tactical officer, Lieutenant Bates, spoke up.  “The 
readings I’m 
getting indicate heavy external 
damage.  They have some sort of weak sensor shield in place that’s 
preventing me 
from telling what 
systems they’ve lost.  There’s a good chance they’re dead in 
space.”
	“All right, then.  Move us within transporter range, Keyes.  
Prepare to 
lower shields on my mark.”
	“Are you sure that’s wise, sir?” asked Bates, her forehead 
wrinkled in 
concern.
	“You have your orders, Lieutenant.”
	“Aye, sir.”
	“Mark.”  He sat back in his chair.
	Then the unexpected happened.  The tiny ship jumped to life, 
streaking 
across the stars and letting 
loose a barrage of fire on the unshielded Marlowe.  The stunned 
Starfleet crew 
was reanimated by the alarm 
klaxons.
	“Report!”
	“Weapons array at 47% – ”
	“Impulse engines failing – ”
	“Shields up!  Fire whatever we have!”
	“ – can only give you 63% shields – ”
	“ – weapons having no effect – ”
	“Evasive maneuvers!”
	As Commander Jackson struggled to maintain control of his 
ship and crew, 
the unidentified vessel 
danced around him, zigging and zagging in maneuvers he’d only ever 
seen 
performed by highly-trained 
pilots in the most advanced prototype shuttlecraft.  If he hadn’t 
been so 
distressed, Jackson would have sat 
back and watched in awe.  As it was, he was struggling to keep 
upright and to 
listen to his subordinates.
	“Propulsion is down!” exclaimed Keyes.  As he was saying it, 
the other 
ship ceased its tricks and 
warped into space, leaving behind it a stunned and silent 
Starfleet crew, dreams 
of promotion shot to hell.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	Aboard the Liberty, a celebration was taking place.  Having 
successfully 
stabilized Chakotay and 
settled him in the medical bay, the Maquis were busy 
congratulating Tom on the 
bridge.  B’Elanna hung in 
the background, delighted that her colleagues had finally accepted 
her friend as 
one of them.
	Tom was still riding the emotional high from his flight.  In 
his euphoria, 
he laughed and joked 
with – yes, he could call them his friends, now.  A movement at 
the edge of his 
vision caught his eye, and 
he spied B’Elanna moving toward the door.  *You won’t get away 
that easily.*  He 
raised his voice.  “But 
there’s no way I could’ve pulled that off if B’Elanna hadn’t taken 
charge.”  As 
if on cue, the group drew 
the engineer into the circle and showered her with praise.
	She murmured her thanks to her crewmates, but her eyes were 
fixed on 
Tom’s.  Grinning broadly, 
she silently thanked him.  His returning smile was the only answer 
she needed.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	The celebration broke up, and everyone but Gerron headed off.  
B’Elanna 
didn’t trust the 
proximity alarms, so she had insisted on having someone monitor 
systems at all 
times.  Parked in a nebula, 
they were fairly safe.
	B’Elanna and Tom went laughing through the corridors to the 
medical bay to 
check on Chakotay.  
He was stirring as they approached the bed.  His eyes blinked 
open.
	“Wh-where am I?  What happened?”
	“You were injured in the battle with the Feds,” B’Elanna 
reminded him.  
“You’ll be fine.  How 
much do you remember?”
	“I remember the explosion and flying across the bridge.  
Then I think I 
was in and out.  I can’t 
recall much…but I do remember some inspired flying.”  He turned 
his eyes to Tom.  
“Mr. Paris.  Hard as it 
is for me to say this, I owe you an apology.  I should never have 
doubted your 
motives or abilities.”
	Tom grinned smugly.  “Apology accepted.”
	“Chakotay, you look exhausted.  Get some sleep,” B’Elanna 
said.  “I’m 
taking care of everything.”
	“That had better include yourself.”
	She smiled wryly.  “Don’t worry, I won’t overwork myself.”  
She patted his 
hand.  “Come on, 
Tom, let’s get out of here.”  They exited softly, for Chakotay 
was already 
asleep.
	Their earlier mirth hadn’t lessened; in fact, Chakotay’s 
apology 
heightened it.  Somehow, they 
ended up in B’Elanna’s cabin.  The only furnishings were a bed and 
a small 
table, so they collapsed on the 
bed, giggling uncontrollably over a joke.  They lay there, calming 
down, 
eventually resting in 
companionable silence.
	After a time, B’Elanna spoke.  “You know, Tom, you really 
were amazing 
today.”
	“I couldn’t have done it without you.  You gave me my second 
chance,” he 
replied, turning his 
head to meet her gaze.
	Nervous, she sat up.  “I guess you’ll be our full time pilot 
now.”
	“Guess so.”  He sat up next to her, and she could feel her 
heart beating a 
little faster.  
“B’Elanna…why didn’t you say goodbye?”
	She knew without asking that he was talking about the day 
that she left 
the Academy.  She drew a 
long breath.  “I wanted to, so much…but it all happened so 
quickly.  All I could 
think of was getting out of 
there.  I was afraid that if I saw you, I’d get weak and stay.”  
She turned her 
face away to hide the 
embarrassed blush creeping over it.
	Tom heard the unspoken message.  “Not everybody there hated 
you, B’Elanna.  
Actually, there 
were times after you left when I heard professors saying it was 
too bad you were 
gone.”
	“Huh!”  She shook her head.  “Nobody misses a failure, 
Tom.”
	“But you’re not a failure!”  He turned to face her.  “Look 
around.  You’re 
Chief Engineer and First 
Officer on a starship.  Under anyone else, this bucket of bolts 
would’ve 
disintegrated years ago.  You’re 
alive and healthy, and you have friends who love and respect you.  
If that’s not 
success, I don’t know what 
is.”  She was silent and her eyes were far away, but he knew she 
was listening.  
He reached up and tucked a 
fallen lock of hair behind her ear.  “And they did miss you.  
They missed your 
ingenuity, your creative 
brilliance.  I missed you.”  More silence.  “B’Elanna, don’t put 
yourself down.  
You’re the least failed 
person I’ve ever known,” he said wistfully.
	She finally faced him, brown eyes searching blue.  During the 
battle, he’d 
been strong and 
confident, flying away with her heart, but now he seemed like a 
lost little boy.  
She couldn’t stand it, so she 
enfolded him in a bear hug.  “I missed you, too.  Tom, you’re 
unbelievable.  
You’ve just won friends, a job, 
respect…”  She didn’t dare voice the last item.  “And you have 
the nerve to 
consider yourself a failure.”
	His shoulders shook with laughter and she released him, 
mission 
accomplished.  Flashing her a 
broad grin, he replied, “I guess I’ve forgotten how to count my 
blessings.”
	“Well, don’t forget again, Mister!” she admonished.
	“And if I do?” he responded, leaning towards her.
	She bent closer and placed a finger on his chin.  “Then 
you’ll learn the 
true meaning of Klingon 
wrath.”
	Their faces were now so close that their noses were 
practically touching.  
“I think I’m starting to 
forget,” he breathed.  He knew he’d probably regret this later, 
but he couldn’t 
resist.  Tom closed the 
remaining distance between them and gently touched his lips to 
hers.
	To his surprise and delight, she didn’t punch him.  He lifted 
his head and 
searched her face for a 
response.
	Once again, she surprised him.  A smile crept over B’Elanna’s 
face as she 
reached up to pull his 
head back down to hers.  They kissed passionately, all their fear 
and caution 
melting away.
	“We should have done this a long time ago,” B’Elanna 
remarked as they came 
up for air.
	Tom said nothing as he wrapped his arms around her, 
reclaiming her lips 
with unbridled passion.
*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	In a quiet region of space, a nondescript nebula swirled in 
the vacuum.  
Hidden within its depths 
lay an unremarkable vessel that seemed more suited to a junkyard.  
And yet, 
tucked within the battered 
hull, something extraordinary was blossoming.  Not a revival, but 
a renewal of 
an individual and a love.  
Separation and change had taken their toll, and more was yet to be 
discovered 
and healed.  But for now, all 
that was forgotten as the most prosaic of places gave birth to a 
new beginning.

Fin

Additional Disclaimers: Yeah, there’s more, but I didn’t want to 
give anything 
away at the beginning.  If 
the ending sounds familiar, that’s because it closely follows the 
movie That 
Thing You Do.  If you haven’t 
seen it, DO!  I don’t know who owns Mother Goose, but it’s not me.

What’d you think? Zorb17@aol.com