Trials 03 Torres' Trial

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Trials 03 Torres' Trial Page 2

by Terri Zavaleta


  "Are you ready?"

  She nodded without speaking. He looped her arm through his and

  they headed for Sandrine's.

  ***********************

  Harry and Malista were twenty minutes late. The moment they

  arrived they could tell: There was trouble in Paradise. The tension

  in the air was a tangible, living thing that wrapped its coils around

  Kim and Shadow as they approached the table in Sandrine's.

  Tom was smiling---his cool, 'who, me?' smile. Smile Number

  Three.

  B'Elanna was staring into the depths of the drink on the table before

  her. She was not smiling---at all.

  "B'Elanna? Come on, it was a joke," Tom said coaxingly. She

  didn't answer or look up. Giving up momentarily, he turned to greet

  the newcomers. "Hi, Harry. Malista."

  "Tom, B'Elanna," Kim said cautiously. "Sorry we're late."

  Torres lifted her gaze, keeping her eyes on Kim and Shadow,

  ignoring Paris' presence. "Some kind of emergency?" the chief

  engineer asked. She'd assigned Shadow to repair a cargo lifter and

  hadn't seen her since the end of the shift.

  Malista squirmed self-consciously as she seated herself. She

  avoided everyone's eyes, by looking around for the holographic

  Sandrine to order a drink. "Not really. I got the lifter fixed. It

  was another power coupling problem."

  Paris looked at Harry Kim. Malista looked upset. Harry shook his

  head slightly. Tom decided to let it drop. If it was something he

  needed to know, Harry would tell him later.

  Torres let out a hiss under her breath, distracted by the words

  'power couplings'. "Another one? What is going on with those

  things?! We've checked the parts, we've checked the replicator,

  we've checked and rechecked the coupling connectors in the consoles

  and the power sources---what is going on?"

  Harry shrugged.

  Malista frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder---"

  "What?" B'Elanna pounced, ready for any new idea for dealing

  with the ongoing crisis that haunted even her dreams.

  Malista shook her head with a rueful smile. "No, never mind.

  It's too simple---I'm sure someone thought of it already." Harry and

  B'Elanna were engineering wizards---surely her own idea was a waste

  of their time.

  "Sometimes the simplest solutions get overlooked," Harry said.

  "What's your idea?"

  "B'Elanna, like you said we checked the couplings in place in

  the system, right?" she verified shyly.

  Torres nodded encouragingly.

  "We checked the replicator to see if it was working

  efficiently?"

  "Of course."

  "Well," Malista offered tentatively, "did anyone---check the

  replicator matrix?"

  "What?" Paris asked for clarification. He didn't know much

  about how replicators actually worked---he'd never been interested

  enough to learn since it didn't have anything to do with propulsion

  or navigation.

  B'Elanna and Harry quickly jumped on Malista's suggestion. "You

  mean the power coupling model might have a flaw?" Torres said. She

  slammed her fist down on the table. She couldn't believe she'd

  overlooked the possibility. It was so simple---she'd been looking for

  a complex problem---not a basic, amateurish mistake!

  "A microfracture wouldn't show up in the finished product unless

  you used a high power of magnitude---" Harry began.

  "Which we didn't bother to use until after the power couplings

  fused!" Torres added.

  "And at that point, the microfracture would be lost amid the

  other damage done when the coupling fused," Shadow finished.

  The three engineering types were going over the possibilities in

  their heads. Paris looked at each thoughtful face bemusedly. "Why do

  I suddenly feel superfluous?"

  "What?" Harry asked, absent-mindedly.

  "Let's go find out!" Torres bounced to her feet and charged out

  of the holodeck, followed in quick succession by Shadow and Kim.

  Paris was left sitting all alone at the table for four. "Was it

  something I said?" he called after them, only half-kidding.

  ***********************

  B'Elanna Torres couldn't bear to look the captain in the eyes as

  she gave her report at the senior staff meeting. "Malista was right.

  When Engineering noticed the depleted supply of power couplings

  available, we began using the replicator to create replacements.

  Unfortunately," she squirmed in her chair as she continued, "no one

  thought to check the coupling that was used as the model for the

  replication process. We just assumed it was unflawed. Microfractures

  are almost unheard of when dealing with birullian alloys. So the

  matrix for the replication was flawed and that meant---"

  "That every time a new power coupling was replicated, the flaw

  was duplicated as well," Harry Kim completed her thought.

  "And now?" Janeway prompted.

  "Now," Torres said grimly, " we have to find a source of

  birullian so we can manufacture our own replacements. Which isn't

  likely. Or we have to find one unflawed power coupling and use it for

  the replicator matrix. And, we have to replace every power coupling

  we've changed out in the past six months---which is when the original

  stock was depleted."

  Tom whistled at the size of the job before them. The power

  couplings were

  incorporated into every major system in the ship and were essential

  in delivering power safely to the consoles.

  Janeway raised an eyebrow at her helm officer. "Exactly, Mr.

  Paris. Lieutenant Torres, I would like you to work with Commander

  Chakotay on a revised duty roster to handle the increased workload."

  "We may want to shift all Maintenance and Repair crew to two

  shifts, rather than three," Chakotay suggested. "That would minimize

  down time and increase the number of personnel available. We could

  also arrange to recruit personnel from other departments to assist on

  a temporary basis."

  Janeway nodded her approval of that suggestion. "Just be sure

  they're trained in safety protocols. We need to get this work done as

  quickly as possible, but we don't want any accidents. And by the way,

  B'Elanna, tell Malista that was good detective work."

  ***********************

  Malista finally got off duty after twelve straight of hours of

  climbing in, out, around, and through the consoles and Jefferiestubes

  in Engineering which had been the first priority. She wanted nothing

  more than to relax so she went by her quarters and changed out of her

  uniform into a long white skirt and green peasant blouse. She picked

  up her datapadd. Harry Kim was still on the bridge, so she went to

  Sandrine's alone. She was so proud of herself that she could do that

  now. She didn't need an escort to protect her. It might sound like a

  strange thing to be proud of, but only to someone who didn't know how

  withdrawn and socially inept she'd been just a few months before.

  Tom Paris was there alone. The holocharacters were his only

  companions. His expression suddenly changed from melancholy to polite

  friendliness as he he
ard her approach. "Hi, Malista. Want to learn to

  play pool?"

  She looked him over carefully, without speaking, trying to

  decide what to say.

  His smile dropped away. "No?"

  She gazed at him, wide-eyed. "What did you do?" she finally

  asked.

  He flinched guiltily, but caught himself and donned his mask of

  casual unconcern as he returned his attention to his next shot. He

  drew back the cue---and immediately scratched. "Nothing. Exactly."

  "Uh-huh," she muttered skeptically.

  His blue eyes met her green ones. "What did she say?" He tried

  to sound indifferent, but couldn't quite bring it off. He reached

  into the pocket and fished the cue ball out of the pocket.

  "Nothing. But I could tell when Harry and I joined you last

  night that something was wrong. And she wasn't in a very good mood

  today," Malista retorted, seating herself on a bar stool. She waited

  patiently for him to finish racking the balls once more.

  Paris shrugged. "She's just upset about the power coupling

  situation. It's a lot more work. And it makes her madder because it's

  work that should be unnecessary. And she's furious she didn't think

  of it sooner."

  "Funny. I'd think she'd feel better now that she's identified

  the problem."

  He turned, planted his cue stick on the floor, and leaned on it.

  "You mean since you identified the problem?"

  Malista frowned. "You think she's upset because I figured it

  out---before she did? Come on, Tom! B'Elanna isn't like that!"

  "Yeah?" He gave her a cynical smirk, the provoking one that made

  people want to smack it off his face. Torres would have called it

  Smile Number One.

  She got to her feet impatiently. "If you don't want to talk

  about it---fine! Just don't make things up! I'm not in the mood! I

  don't need this!" Malista Shadow spun on her heel and started out of

  Sandrine's.

  "Malista! Wait!" Tom leaned back against the pool table.

  She paused at the door without turning.

  "Come back here," Tom said. "Please?"

  She revolved slowly to face him. "What's going on, Tom?" she

  asked calmly.

  "You want to sit down? And have a drink?"

  "Not particularly. Why was B'Elanna so mad when Harry and I got

  here last night?" Malista insisted, coming to stand in front of him

  so she could study his face.

  Tom sighed heavily. "Ah, I just made a stupid joke---it wasn't a

  big deal. She didn't think it was funny, I guess."

  "What kind of joke?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  Paris pondered the odds of evading the question. He darted a

  glance at his 'little sister'. No way. It was one of the reasons he

  liked her. She didn't let him get away with anything. He took a quick

  look around the room. "Computer, delete all the holodeck characters."

  The other occupants of the bar disappeared giving them privacy.

  Malista raised her eyebrows, crossed her arms, and waited.

  Paris sighed again. He laid his pool cue down and hoisted

  himself up to sit on the edge of the pool table. He patted the space

  next to him. Malista followed his lead. "B'Elanna asked me about

  Rickie."

  "Your holographic---friend?"

  "Yeah," he said, staring at the floor. "She asked me why I

  deleted her."

  "And you said---" Shadow prompted.

  "I said," Tom replied with a reminiscent wince, "that I got tired of

  her."

  Malista frowned and moaned. "Tom! Do you know how that sounded--

  -"

  "Not at the time," he said defensively. "I wasn't thinking of

  how she would interpret it. I just wanted a quick excuse. Besides,

  I'm not going to get tired of B'Elanna! I'm not fickle! I don't care

  what people say about me!" His blue eyes searched her face for a sign

  that she believed him. "Whether I knew it or not, I've been looking

  for B'Elanna Torres my whole life! Do you really think I want to mess

  it up? Now? When things are finally starting to go my way?"

  She smiled at him tenderly. "No, of course not," she replied

  gently. She took his hand and held it. "Was that the only thing? I

  wouldn't think B'Elanna would get that mad about---just that."

  "No," Tom replied reluctantly. "She says I won't talk to her."

  "You talk to her all the time."

  "That's exactly what I said!" He threw her an exasperated look.

  "Don't play dumb, Malista. You know what I mean. She says I won't

  talk to her about---stuff like feelings." It didn't seem to occur to

  him that he'd just admitted that he had been playing dumb with

  Torres.

  "And do you?"

  "Yes---no! I don't know!" He threw up his hands and jumped off

  the table to amble towards the bar, as if he were too restless to

  stay still.

  "That's a pretty comprehensive answer." She slid down and

  followed him.

  He rummaged behind the bar until he found the bottle he was

  looking for. "You want some brandy?"

  "Synthehol?" She asked cautiously. Her first and only hangover

  had taught her the hazards of ingesting real alcoholic beverages. She

  wouldn't repeat that mistake.

  He snickered as he recalled the effect of the native beverage

  from their shore leave on Dynos Six, 'the Blue' as the Voyager crew

  had dubbed it. Malista, Jenny Delaney, and B'Elanna among others had

  drunk deeply and suffered greatly as a result. "Of course, it's

  synthehol. I don't do the real stuff any more either."

  "Why not?"

  "What do you mean, 'why not'?" He frowned at her. "You're

  starting to sound like B'Ella. There doesn't have to be a reason for

  everything!"

  "Oops. Sorry. I was just making conversation," she said lightly.

  "Did I step on a sore spot?"

  "She keeps---pushing," he said, filling his glass. "I don't

  know---what she wants me to say."

  "Welcome to the club," Malista said tiredly. She rested her

  elbow on the bar and cradled her chin in her palm.

  Paris looked into her eyes and noticed the sadness. "What's the

  matter? Is it Harry?"

  She shook her head. "Not exactly. Sometimes. Yes---no, maybe

  it's me." She broke off in confusion.

  Paris smiled wryly, but there was no sparkle in his eyes. "I see

  I'm not the only one who's mastered the art of the comprehensive

  answer. Maybe it's a family trait. Would you like to settle on one

  choice? Is it Harry?"

  "Relationships are hard. Especially when you've never had one

  before. And he keeps pushing---in a nice way. It's that I don't know

  how much I should tell him. Or what," Malista stated. "I don't want

  to talk about me right now. And Tom?" She made sure she had his full

  attention before she continued. "Don't use me---or Harry---or our

  relationship---as an excuse to avoid B'Elanna. Spend some time alone

  with her. Talk to her. The two of you care about each other. You can

  find a way to get past your differences."

  Shifting uncomfortably, Tom resorted to a stab at humor. "Hey,

  I'm supposed to be giving you advice, Sis! Not the other way around.

  Why don't you take your own advic
e?"

  She refused to smile. "Tom?" Her green eyes were very wide, her

  expression easy to read.

  He studied his brandy solemnly. "Yes?"

  "If I can help?" She left it there, not knowing what to say---

  or if she'd said too much already.

  He took her hand and squeezed it. His eyes never left his glass.

  "I know. You too. If I can help---Let me know."

  They stayed there for a few minutes, just holding hands, each

  lost in thought.

  "Tom?"

  "Yes?"

  "You want to help me with a holoprogram I've been working on?"

  "Sure, what is it?"

  Malista smiled at him shyly. "Harry keeps asking about my

  family. I thought I could show him---and get a new exercise program

  for my workouts."

  Tom took the datapadd and studied the program. "Hmm," he

  murmured. "This looks interesting. A surprise for Harry?" He flashed

  a wicked grin her way.

  She nodded.

  "Then lets make this as near perfect as possible. Just a few

  finishing touches," Paris suggested. He began to tap on the padd

  controls. "The small details make it real."

  ***********************

  After an exhaustive search and examination, Torres had located

  an intact, unflawed power coupling in a secondary backup system She

  immediately assigned a crew to work full-time on replicating new

  parts for the repair teams to install. With additional personnel,

  some of them inexperienced, she had to reassign teams so that each

  had one repair tech and one less experienced assistant from another

  department.

  She called Malista Shadow aside for a quick conference.

  "Malista, Sue Nicoletti is going to partner with Gerron. I'm thinking

  of letting you work with Chell. Is that okay with you?" Torres was

  studying her intently, watching for a reaction.

  Shadow smiled faintly, appreciating her chief's concern and

  thoughtfulness in consulting her before making the assignment. "It's

  okay, Lieutenant. I'm not---I like Chell. He doesn't make me---

  nervous." She'd gotten to know him better in her self-defense class.

  He was a very non-threatening person.

  B'Elanna smiled her relief. Chakotay had asked her to team

  Malista with women until she overcame her fear of men. But with

  Engineering so short-handed ---she was glad Malista was making

  progress in becoming socialized. "Chell follows directions fairly

 

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