Trials 04 Shadow's Trial

by Terri Zavaleta

  Torres read the prevarication in the green eyes, but didn't know what

  she should do about it. "Dismissed."

  She couldn't help the younger woman if she wouldn't ask for help. Or

  could she? As Malista walked away, B'Elanna flagged down Crewman

  Gerron. He came to her side, his own eyes following Shadow as she

  left the Engineering section.

  B'Elanna had noticed that Gerron Tem had been escorting or trailing

  after Malista Shadow for days. She would have thought it was just a

  crush, but she had somehow gotten the impression that Gerron was

  interested in Megan Delaney. So why was he following Malista? And

  watching her all the time? Though no one had told her anything

  outright, Torres was forming her own theories. "Gerron, I want you to

  go check out the repair work done on the Biology Department's

  ecosystem sphere."

  The young Bajoran squinted at her, unsure if he should speak up or

  not. "Wasn't that work done last week?"

  "Yes. But there's no harm in checking it out again," Torres said

  blandly. "Preventive maintenance."

  Gerron studied the half Klingon skeptically. She wasn't normally known

  for wasting time---or a pair of willing hands without a very good

  reason.

  "Malista will be working there. She may need your help with the

  environmental controls," the lieutenant added. Her face remained

  determinedly neutral.

  Gerron nodded. Now he understood. As the Chief Engineer and a

  supervising Starfleet Officer, Torres might not have been informed

  about what the Maquis were doing to protect Malista or why it was

  necessary, but somehow she had figured out that something was going

  on. And she didn't object to his assumption of unofficial and

  self-appointed bodyguard duties. He went to get his tool kit.

  ************************

  Lieutenant Trent Salaka, the Biology Department Supervisor, was

  leaving just as Malista arrived. "Hello," he said, a bright smile of

  welcome warming his hazel eyes. "Here to take care of our little

  problem?"

  She hesitantly returned his smile. Trent had been one of the men she'd

  dated during the week in which she'd been trying to regain Harry's

  attention and make him jealous. He'd taken her to a play as a favor to

  Jenny Delaney.

  He stood back to let her pass, saying as he did so, "Since we couldn't

  get anything much done in this icebox, most of my people are taking a

  late lunch break. Or early dinner break. Whatever. Give me a call if I

  can help with anything."

  "Thanks," she said, moving past him and into the lab. The door slid

  closed behind her. It was very cool. Much too cool for humans to feel

  comfortable working there in regulation uniforms. She started for the

  environmental controls on the opposite wall. As she reached up to

  swing the access panel open, she heard a slight sound to her right and

  glanced in that direction.

  Ensign Laro Longoria was standing behind the computer console, running

  simulation models on the screen. He smirked as his eyes roved over

  Shadow's body, which was well-defined by her form-fitting uniform as

  she stretched her hands above her head to reach the panel latch.

  She caught her breath, decided to ignore him, and sincerely hoped he

  would return the favor. She returned her attention to her assignment.

  The panel swung open and she looked over the controls and circuitry,

  trying to isolate the problem. It could be the thermostat itself or

  the.....

  She felt a hand caress her right buttock and whirled to face him. She

  hadn't heard his approach. Her hand came up to shove him away. He

  caught her wrist and held it between them.

  "Still playing games, chica?" Longoria purred. He brought his other

  hand up toward her face. She ducked back away from him. As she did so,

  the shoulder of her uniform caught on the corner of the open panel

  door. Her jerking movement caused the material to tear, leaving a

  three inch gap and a long, deep gouge in the top of her shoulder. She

  hardly felt the pain. She was focusing on breathing, wondering what

  she should do next.

  When George Natwick had confronted her like this, it had been in a

  public corridor. Any shout for assistance would have been heard and

  responded to promptly. In this soundproofed lab, no one would hear her

  shout---unless she hit her commbadge and called for Security. Was she

  scared enough to justify that reaction? What would everyone say? What

  would Harry think? Was Longoria just testing her the way George had?

  Surely he wouldn't really...

  Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Leave me alone." Her words were barely

  audible. It was all she could think of to say. She couldn't move away.

  She was pinned between the bulkhead and his body, trapped by the lab

  tables on either side of them.

  "What if I don't want to? What are you going to do? Tell your

  boyfriend? It's against regulations to use your rank for personal

  reasons. Come on, Malista! I've heard stories about you Maquis women.

  Your savage sex lives. A woman who looks like you couldn't possibly be

  an innocent. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I like

  games. Make my dreams come true. Didn't you make Dishon a happy man

  for three years? He was so protective of you. He wouldn't let me near

  you. No one was allowed to touch. Or even look. He was very jealous,

  wasn't he? Too bad about poor Niko. But no matter how good he was, I

  bet I could teach you a few things. Or you could teach me!"

  She tried to pull her arm away. His grasp tightened painfully. His

  eyes played over her face and he leaned toward her. She could feel his

  breath on her skin.

  She turned her face away, straining to get away from him. "Don't!"

  "Come on. You know you'll like it. I've heard stories about you. Niko

  didn't want to share. I'm more generous. I don't mind sharing. Kim

  doesn't have to know if you want to keep it a secret." He slid his

  hand from her hip to her waist and tried to pull her closer. Her free

  hand shoved against his shoulder. That didn't work. She was

  frantically trying to remember what she'd learned about fighting in

  close quarters in her self-defense class.

  How serious was he? How scared was she? She wondered if she could

  raise her leg enough to reach her boot and get to the....

  The hiss of the opening door froze both of them in place. Longoria's

  eyes guiltily darted toward the entrance. It was Gerron Tem.

  "Let her go." His low voice was a dangerous snarl. The Bajoran cub

  looked surprisingly dangerous, almost feral.

  With a casual air of contempt for both of them, Longoria stepped back

  wearing a nasty smile. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender

  as he returned to his computer console. "Sorry. Didn't mean to

  trespass. I didn't know you had a prior claim, too."

  Gerron's eyes, mere slits, flew to the laceration on Malista's

  shoulder, took in the torn uniform, and the fact that---though her icy

  mask of control was locked firmly in place---small tremors racked her

  body from head to toe. He moved prot
ectively between Longoria and

  Shadow, shielding her from even having to look at the other man. "Do

  you want to go to Sickbay and have that taken care of?" he queried in

  a low voice, concerned by her pallor.

  "No, let's finish this first." Her voice was shaky, eyes fixed on the

  floor.

  "Well, if you don't need me," Longoria sneered, "I think I'll go get a

  snack. It's impossible to think in this cold anyway. Things seem kind

  of---frigid to me." With that parting shot, he strode out of the lab.

  Gerron made a move to go after the man, but Malista caught his arm.

  "Don't. He's not worth it."

  "Malista, you have to report this---"

  "I can't."

  "Why not?" the Bajoran demanded.

  "I don't want Harry or Tom to know about this," she said, looking

  through her toolbox for a tool she couldn't seem to find.

  "Why not?" he repeated.

  "B-Because...because I d-d-don't," she said finally. "Oh, d-damn." Her

  shaking hand went to her forehead. "What am I looking for?" she asked

  him tremulously, her eyes pleading with him for understanding and

  agreement.

  He pulled a stool over and pushed her down onto it. "I'll take care of

  this. Sit there and calm down."

  As he worked on the controls, she tried to decide what she should do

  now. She didn't see Longoria that often. Surely, she could avoid him.

  She would just make sure never to be alone with him. This wasn't a big

  problem. Not really. Gerron wouldn't tell. Not if she asked him not

  to. "Gerron?"

  "Yes?" He closed the panel. It had been the sensor in the thermostat

  that was causing the problem. It had only taken a moment to replace

  it. The temperature was already improving. It was getting warmer. He

  looked at her.

  "I don't want anyone to know about this. I'm going to handle this

  myself."

  "How?"

  "I don't know. I---I'll stay away from him. I've managed to before. I

  haven't seen him for a week at least."

  "This is a small ship. You can't avoid him forever. What's his problem

  anyway?"

  She smiled weakly. "I think he's heard too many stories about

  oversexed Maquis women and their erotic exploits."

  The Bajoran shook his head. "I wish I knew how those stories got

  started. If we spent as much time---" He paused to censor himself.

  "Let's just say we wouldn't have had time for fighting if all those

  stories were true."

  "Yeah." Her mind was far away from him at the moment.

  "Malista? Next stop, Sickbay." He cupped her elbow in his palm and

  helped her to her feet.

  "Oh, I don't think---"

  "It could get infected---"

  "No! The Doctor would be upset and report---"

  Gerron almost growled in frustration. "You have to change your

  uniform. Somebody will notice that." He pointed to the ragged,

  blood-soaked tear. He was afraid to push her too hard. She was so

  tense now, she seemed brittle. As if the careless flick of a finger

  could shatter her into tiny shards. He'd seen women with that look in

  the Bajoran refugee camps. Women who'd been victims of Cardassian

  brutality. He'd hoped never to see it again.

  Her eyes dropped to her shoulder. She'd forgotten. "Then I'll go to my

  quarters. Now if I just had a dermal regenerator---?" She smiled at

  him hopefully.

  He scowled at her. "I suppose I could swipe one from the emergency kit

  in the corridor near the cargo bay. Well, come on then." It was the

  best he could do for now.

  "And Gerron?"

  "Yes?"

  "Promise me you won't tell Tom or Harry---or B'Elanna?" she added

  hastily.

  He had no problem with that request. "I promise I won't tell Paris,

  Kim, or Torres," he vowed solemnly. Of course, he had carefully chosen

  his words. He hadn't promised not to tell *anyone*. "I'll meet you at

  your quarters with the regenerator."

  ************************

  Malista underestimated the number of watching eyes. Someone had seen

  the pair leaving the deserted lab, and reported it to a friend. Within

  twenty minutes of their departure from the Biology Lab, yet another

  rumor began winging its way through the ship.

  It took longer for Shadow to heal herself than she'd estimated. The

  gash was quickly erased by the dermal regenerator. She had a spare

  uniform in her closet. It should have taken no more than five minutes.

  But when she'd changed her uniform, she'd become aware of the large,

  perfectly defined, finger-shaped bruises forming on her forearm.

  Healing those had required a little more time and care. One glimpse of

  those and Harry wouldn't accept silence as an answer. The extra time

  required led to even more speculation.

  Another tattletale soon spread a report of seeing Gerron and Malista

  leaving her quarters, some *thirty minutes* after Gerron had been seen

  entering them. Thirty minutes was not explainable with an innocent

  excuse that anyone could come up with readily. As the rumors made the

  rounds, they grew and became so distorted as to be unrecognizable, as

  rumors often do.

  The Maquis version of the tale was that Gerron had assisted Malista in

  fighting off a number of Starfleet crewmen who had been attempting to

  sexually assault her. The evidence? The torn uniform, the cut on her

  shoulder, and her distressed and disheveled appearance. There was no

  report filed because, after all, she was a Maquis. The Maquis still

  had a tendency to want to handle their problems outside of the usual

  channels. Or possibly she didn't want to make waves that would affect

  her boyfriend's career as a 'Fleeter? Or perhaps she didn't want Harry

  Kim to find out because he would never believe her side of the story

  and she didn't want to risk losing him?

  The Starfleet crew members came up with a different version. With the

  same evidence available, they speculated that Gerron had sexually

  assaulted Malista Shadow and that she hadn't reported it because he

  was a fellow Maquis or because he had threatened her. Or she feared

  Harry Kim, Tom Paris, or both would go after Gerron.

  Those who liked Kim and disliked Shadow also held forth a theory that

  it wasn't assault at all. That Malista had been cheating on Kim with

  Gerron and they'd gotten a little carried away. This story was

  slightly more widely accepted since there was additional evidence.

  Gerron and Malista were seen leaving her quarters after thirty

  minutes---if not more---alone. During Harry Kim's duty shift.

  The slight level of tension between the two factions increased to a

  more uncomfortable level and threatened to erupt into something more

  than hard feelings and suspicion.

  *************************

  George Natwick was sitting alone with his morning coffee when Malista

  Shadow and Gerron Tem approached his table. With a welcoming smile,

  the ensign stood and pulled out a chair for her. As she seated

  herself, the Bajoran excused himself and went to sit with his Maquis

  friends. The boy's behavior reminded Natwick rather forcefully of a

  bodyguard droppin
g off his client in a safe zone.

  "Good morning," Malista whispered. Her impassive mask was in place,

  but he sensed she wasn't sure of her reception.

  "Malista. How are you?" A casual approach seemed best.

  "Fine. I'm fine. And you?" Her tone was of polite interest.

  Natwick had never been one for feigning polite interest, but he

  recognized it when he heard it. She was stalling as she tried to think

  how to phrase her request. "Malista, can I help you with something?"

  Blunt. Too blunt. She reacted with a slight start, almost a flinch. He

  was afraid she was going to retreat without saying anything more. He

  could all but see her mental gymnastics as she considered her options.

  "Oh." She bit her lip, caught herself, and tugged her lip free of her

  teeth with one hand. His gaze followed her hand. "Harry doesn't like

  it when I do that," she explained breathlessly. "Habits are hard to

  break. I keep forgetting."

  The big man fought to keep any hint of bitterness from showing in his

  smile at the mention of Kim's name and his role in Malista's life.

  "Malista, why did you want to talk to me?" He softened his tone,

  trying to sound as inviting and helpful as possible.

  She took a deep breath and plunged right in. "You remember I was in

  your self-defense class?" He nodded encouragingly. "The other day---"

  She cleared her throat. "Well, I was wondering---"

  "Get to the point. I can't help you if you don't ask," he stated