NEW "Up-'Lifting Conversation" 2/2 [PG-13] VOY (J,T)
FNKAISER
(See Part 1 for Disclaimers)
"You don't have to apologize, Captain. We're just
talking. Even Starfleet has to permit that... Don't they?"
"You'd be surprised, B'Elanna. Starfleet's pretty specific
about where captains should direct their comments. Gripes are
supposed to go up, not down. Personal discussions, well, it's
never been clear to me where they're supposed to go. To
families and friends, other captains... maybe senior officers."
"That doesn't give you many options. We're pretty far
removed from families, from friends. As for senior officers, I'd
think it'd be pretty weird to talk to Chakotay *about* Chakotay.
And it'd be weird to talk to Tuvok about anything. Anything
personal, I mean."
"Hmm. I gave up with Tuvok after two tries. I sure he's
most grateful. It's funny though... I've actually had some fairly
intimate conversations with T'Pel. His wife. So I think it's
more than just a cultural impediment; I think his sense of
protocol must color things. But then, of course, he's aware of
everything T'Pel and I have discussed. It's a strange friendship
we have. Interesting... infinitely rewarding... but definitely
strange. I suspect he feels the same way. Well, not 'feels,' of
course. Holds the same opinion."
"God, how *do* you talk with him? Whatever do you
talk about?"
"I don't know, B'Elanna... we talk about everything. Just
not feelings. He can actually be quite a gossip; I find out a lot
about what's going on with the crew from him."
"Like when Tom and I got together? Seems to me you
need some better sources, Captain."
"Probably so. Chakotay's pretty well attuned, but it's
much harder to wheedle information from him. He tends to
steer the conversation to other subjects... doesn't want to
*burden* me with crew matters."
"Well, there's always Neelix."
"Yes, there certainly is. What's the old engineering
expression..."
"'Low signal to noise, with strong distortion filters?'"
"Not the one I had in mind, but I like it... more polite,
too."
"The Doctor is outside the chain-of-command... so is
Seven."
"And you're suggesting meaningful heart-to-hearts
with...?"
"Oh. Right. Never mind. So what's so wrong with
Lieutenants?"
"Absolutely nothing. Why, I was one myself, as I recall.
But it is complicated, *Lieutenant*. Even more so than back in
the Alpha Quadrant. In some ways, it was easier to make friends
with the less senior officers there. Tuvok and I became friends
while he was still an ensign. Granted, he was a hundred-year-
old ensign, but still an ensign. And Stadi. God, I wish you could
have known her. Could she have been at the Academy with
you? A Betazoid?"
"Stadi? I don't think so. At least not that I remember. I
didn't really mix with my classmates very much."
"You would have liked her, I think. Very insightful,
very... well, let's just say she never suffered bullshit gladly.
Although she did put up with me. And she thought Tom was
okay."
"She knew Tom?"
"Not like that, B'Elanna. I sent her to pick him up from
the penal colony. I wanted her opinion-- she was able to see past
facades, of course."
"And she thought Tom was okay?"
"Yes. Oh, a pig, of course... But okay."
"Yeah. I probably would have liked her. She was your
friend?"
"Stadi was my friend. Somehow rank never seemed an
issue."
"Maybe it could be less of one for us."
"I'd like that. I think we have grown closer with time."
"Sure. It's been years since I wanted to kill you... I'm
kidding!"
"Well, at least Chakotay kept you from taking a swing at
me. I wasn't so lucky with Seven."
"So, see? I really am the good daughter!"
"Christ, I wish the two of you would stop flailing at each
other long enough to realize how much you could accomplish
together."
"The two of us? Work together? We tried that, Captain. I
ended up floating in space, chasing a rogue warp core. Thanks,
but I think I'll take a pass on another attempt."
"She has a lot of useful knowledge. She could contribute
some very innovative ideas."
"And she could contribute some really half-assed ones.
And she doesn't seem able to tell the difference. All of them are
'superior technology' in her mind."
"That's why I need you two working as a team. You can
vet her ideas, refine them, make them work with Starfleet
systems. Otherwise, you get to live with bioneural circuitry and
gel packs for another fifty-five years."
"This ship is just full of attractive alternatives, isn't it?...
Do you really think it's possible to retrofit a transwarp drive
onto Voyager?"
"Transwarp, slipstream... I don't know what's feasible.
That's what I need the two of you to figure out."
"I'd have to be in charge."
"Of course you'd be the lead. You're chief engineer.
Seven respects you."
"Like hell."
"She does, B'Elanna... Lieutenant, snorting at your captain
is not polite. Look, do you think Seven respects me?"
"If she respects anyone on Voyager, it's you. And maybe
Tuvok."
"Do you think she's ever told me, or Tuvok, that she
respects us? Do you think she's let us know that in any way?"
"Well..."
"Like hell. B'Elanna, you must realize how insecure
Seven really is. In many ways, we're really dealing with a scared
child. A savant, perhaps. But a child savant... Help me mentor
her. I think it would prove worthwhile for everyone involved.
And frankly, I could use the break; she does exhaust me."
"Okay... I'm willing to give it a try. But I'm the lead. And
if she even touches my engines without permission, you'll be
mopping nanoprobes off the floor of engineering from here to
the Alpha Quadrant."
"How could I possibly refuse such a gracious offer? I'll
have her come by to talk with you tomorrow... ASSUMING WE
GET OFF THIS DAMNED LIFT BY THEN!!!"
"I really don't think anyone can hear you, Captain."
"Nonsense. You just did... You know, old-fashioned sea
vessels had talking tubes connecting the bridge to the engine
room, other critical stations. If this gel pack problem persists,
perhaps we should consider a retrofit."
"I'll have Seven get right on it... Kidding!! I'm kidding.
She'd probably just want to link us all to a collective; far more
efficient communication."
"Maybe if we bang our boots against the wall..."
"Well, if it makes you feel better. I really doubt anyone
would hear. And it's a bit too close to calisthenics for my taste."
"Point taken... Okay, then, so what are we going to do once
we get out of this... lovely little room?"
"Gosh, I don't know. Probably go to sickbay. Assuming
that's working."
"I think you're missing the point here, B'Elanna. What
wonderful thing are we going to do to compensate for this...
adventure."
"Oh. Oh, I get it. Okay, the holodeck. Something wet.
Maybe the beach resort."
"Too hot. I say Lake St. George."
"Okay, Lake St. George. Water-skiing."
"Fine. You ski, I'll drive the boat. And swim. And drink
iced coffee."
"Iced coffee. It figures. Let's see... hot coffee, iced coffee,
coffee ice cream, coffee brownies, coffee candy... is there anything
you *can't* do with coffee."
"Not in my experience. The possibilities are, well, I
believe the proper mathematical term is 'countably infinite.'"
"Okay, iced coffee. So long as it's really, really cold...
Right."
"This isn't working, is it?"
"What?"
"This isn't making us feel any less hot or any less
miserable, is it?"
"No, not really."
"Damn. It used to work. When I was growing up in
Indiana, I used to spend summers daydreaming about how good
it would feel to play in the snow. And in the winters, I'd think
about playing tennis in the mid-day sun. Of course, I'd mainly
take advantage of climate-controlled environments. My mother
used to say I was too much a child of the 24th century, had no
ability to acclimate. When I told her I was going to spend several
terms on Vulcan, she just laughed out loud. I think she was
afraid I'd melt."
"My mother felt the same way. I tolerate heat better than
Humans, but not as well as a full-blooded Klingon. When we
visited her home world, I practically wilted. At least Vulcan is a
dry heat."
"Because we all know: it ain't the heat..."
"It's the humidity! And, hey, we have plenty of both."
"It *is* amazing how much moisture two humanoids can
pump into the air in an hour."
"Well, Captain, I won't be pumping much more. I don't
think there's much left in my body at this point."
"Are you all right, B'Elanna?" *Janeway to the bridge!*
"Damn. Still out."
"It's okay. I'm fine... No problem... Mom would be
proud."
"I'm sure she would be."
"Yeah, right."
"B'Elanna, you know she would, don't you? And you
father, too. Don't you think?"
"I don't know. I never knew what pleased them... Either
of them... I gave up trying to figure it out."
"Well, they should be proud of the woman you've
become."
"I'm not sure. Some of the things I've done... Captain, do
you regret things you've done?"
"Do you want a list? B'Elanna, we've all done things we
later regret. But at the time we do them, they seem the best
option available; often they are. Sometimes the regret results
from knowledge we gain only after the fact. And I've learned
two things about regretting past actions. The first is that
sometimes when we think we made a bad decision, it turns out
the decision was never really ours to make at all... never was..."
"And the second?"
"Huh?"
"The second. You said there were two things."
"Oh. The second is something I learned from Q. Well,
from Q's visit. Let me start over. After Q's first visit, I decided I
better read up on all of Starfleet's encounters with him. I was
particularly struck by one account from Jean-Luc Picard's
personal log. The writing, the style and tone, was hardly one I'd
associate with Picard; his reports are always so dry and
objective... It seems Q visited Picard after the captain had a near-
fatal accident. It was interesting because Picard wasn't certain
whether or not Q was actually there; it might have all been some
kind of near-death experience."
"Oh, those are always fun. Imagine having one with Q."
"I think I'd rather have another go with the matrix alien.
Anyway, Picard's injury was life-threatening because of his
artificial heart; apparently, he'd gotten a heart replacement after
some bar-room fight when he was a young man. Q offered
Picard the opportunity to go back and relive the experiences of
his youth, to avoid the fight that cost him his heart, and hence
later his life. So Picard took Q up on the offer, did things
differently the second time around. The fight never happened.
So Picard awoke to find himself healthy and well, serving as a
j.g. lieutenant in the Science Department on the Enterprise.
Apparently, he had become a man unable to take risks,
unwilling to seize the initiative. That bar-room fight had
severely cost him, but it'd also provided him with a firm sense
of purpose, a strong drive for achievement. Picard pleaded with
Q to return him to the life he'd had before, insisted he'd rather
die than live that pallid life."
"So did Q help him?"
"Well, as I said, Picard wasn't certain whether Q was really
there or not. But the captain felt himself returned to the bar-
room confrontation, and chose to played it out his original way.
He was stabbed in the back by some Nausicaan, and came to in
the sickbay of the Enterprise. It could have all been a
hallucination. But the lesson Picard drew from it was valid in
either case: we are the sum of our experiences. We can't change
what we've done without changing who we are. I like who you
are, B'Elanna."
"Thank you, Captain. I... like some of what I am. Not all
of it."
"Well, I can't see anything that needs changing. But if
you do, that's what you should focus on. Change that. Don't try
to change your past. You can't. You really can't, believe me."
"Hmm... You know, Captain, I think Chakotay's story-
telling talent is starting to rub off on you."
"Me? You must be joking. Chakotay's gift with words,
well, he just leaves me in tears sometimes, you know? He must
find me so inarticulate... it's so hard for me to find words for my
feelings the way he does. He says things sometime, well... he
just leaves me stunned."
"I know. I mean, he never spoke to me like... oh hell, you
know what I mean. But he would say thing to us, in the Maquis
cell, that were so moving, so inspiring. I guess I had a bit of a
crush on him for a while. But, of course, there was Seska..."
"God, could we talk about anything but her? Please?"
"Sure. I just meant, well, I was never seriously interested
in Chakotay... I didn't want you to think..."
"It's okay, B'Elanna. I know Chakotay loves you very
much. But I don't think he ever considered it a romantic love.
Still, it's quite profound, you know."
"I... I guess I hoped he cared about me."
"He does. Very much so. And from day one he's gone to
bat for you, been your advocate. You know he's the one who
convinced me you deserved to be chief engineer."
"You wanted Carey."
"I did. I was wrong. Thank God Chakotay was so
adamant. He kept me from making a major mistake."
"Carey's a good engineer."
"Oh, Carey's a fine engineer. He'd do a great job on any
ship in the Alpha Quadrant. But we're not in the Alpha
Quadrant. We're here. And we don't need 'fine.' We need
'inspired.' We need 'exceptional.' You have an impossible job,
B'Elanna, and you do it amazingly well. And you put up with
me. I was very lucky to get you as chief engineer. Chakotay
made me lucky, against my better judgment."
"I'm lucky to have the job. To be given the chance... I
never imagined... chief engineer on a federation starship. I'm...
I'm very lucky."
"Even with the bioneural circuitry."
"Yeah."
"Even with the gel-packs."
"Yeah."
"Even with Seven."
"Captain... you're pushing it."
"You really should call me Kathryn."
"We're technically on-duty."
"Fine. How about when we're off-duty?"
"Well, it's still a bit awkward. I mean... when are we
really off-duty? I'm always calling you during your off-shift...
you're always calling me..."
"How about when we're on the holodeck? That's a pretty
clear non-duty situation."
"Yeah, that should work... Damn, I think we must have
lost some airflow. It's really hard to breath. So let me think...
You can be Kathryn in the holodeck... Okay... But what if we're
working in the holodeck?"
"B'Elanna..."
"Or... what if we're in the holodeck, off-duty and all, but
there's a malfunction and I have to fix it..."
"B'Elanna..."
"So, then, technically, I'm off-duty, but I'm functioning
like I'm on-duty..."
"B'Elanna, I think you're hypoventilating... you should
probably stop talking..."
"Right. You're right, Captain... Kathryn... no, that's the
holodeck... I mean... for the holo... deck..."
"B'Elanna... B'Elanna?... Great, Lieutenant, just great... the
one time I can best you in a physical contest... and the prize is to
remain conscious... in a stuffy... overheated turbolift..." *Janeway
to the bridge...* "Damn... Come on... how long does it take... get
*something* back on line... " *Janeway to the bridge...* "Shit...
come on, Carey... Vorik..." *Janeway to engineering...* "no,
Kathryn, not engineering... bridge has comm system priority..."
*Janeway to the bridge*
*Chakotay here. Captain, where are you? We expected
you and B'Elanna on the bridge over an hour ago.*
*The lieutenant and I are stuck in Turbolift 1, we think
between Decks 2 and 3... Can you get the 'lift moving? We're
losing air...*
*Captain, are you all right? How's B'Elanna?*
*I'm okay... B'Elanna passed out a couple of minutes ago...
I'll go... check her pulse... Can you beam us out?*
*Transporters are still off-line, but we should have the
'lifts back any minute. Just hold on.*
*Okay... But expedience... is greatly appreciated...B'Elanna
seems stable... maybe medic.....*
*Captain? Captain?*
*******************
Tuvok had re-routed operations functions to his tactical
station when Kim left the bridge for engineering. "Commander,
engineering reports full environmental sensors and controls are
back on-line." With calm satisfaction, the Vulcan observed the
displays indicating additional systems returning to normal
function. "And we now have turbolift capability. Transporters
are recharging; they will be functional in 2.3 minutes."
Tom Paris was the third member of the skeleton crew that
remained on the bridge. All other bridge personnel were
assisting in engineering or had evacuated to the cargo bays. Paris
stood at the turbolift door with Chakotay, medkit in hand.
Chakotay continued to jab at the turbolift call button; Tuvok
refrained from reminding the commander that such repeated
inputs would not hasten the system's response. "What's the
temperature in the 'lift?" Chakotay called over to Tuvok.
"It is down to 48 degrees Celsius. Oxygen levels are
returning to normal."
*Down* to 48 degrees? "Jesus," Paris muttered. He
opened the medkit and started preparing hyposprays. Chakotay
was bouncing on the balls of his feet as the turbolift door
swished open. A wave of stale, humid air washed onto the
bridge.
Chakotay and Paris froze in their tracks at the sight of the
two women sprawled on the floor. After crawling over to check
on Torres, Janeway had collapsed on top of her. Both were
dressed in only tank tops and panties; their other clothes were
strewn about the small compartment. Both women's hair was
disheveled, their features flushed from the heat. Janeway’s right
arm draped about Torres’ head. The tableau gave the appearance
of a pair of spent lovers, locked in a post-coital embrace.
Noticing that neither man had entered the turbolift,
Tuvok called over to them. "Gentlemen, do you require my
assistance?"
"No!" the two men responded in unison. But their feet
were still frozen to the bridge floor. Seconds passed.
Tom recovered first. He moved quickly to check the two
women’s vital signs and administer emergency aid. "Paris to
sickbay. Doctor, prepare to receive the captain and Lt. Torres.
Both are suffering from heat stress and mild hypoxemia. I've
administered injections to stablize electrolyte levels, but
rehydration is required."
Chakotay had likewise mobilized. After separating the
two women to optimize transporter function, he called for an
emergency beam-out. As the transporter whine faded, the two
men stared at each other for a moment. They then slowly began
collecting the clothing and boots scattered about the lift.
Their task complete, Chakotay turned and surveyed the
small room. “Well. Were the circumstances not so dire, I could
have found that scene evocative of a pretty, uh, hot fantasy.”
"Speak for yourself, Commander," Paris replied tartly.
Was that indignation Chakotay heard in his voice? Thinking he
should perhaps apologize, the older man turned to the younger,
only to see a boyish grin break out on the Lieutenant's face. "I
think I can work just fine with the material we've been given!"
Chakotay snatched a bra from Paris' bundle. “That’s the
captain’s!” he admonished.
“Sorry,” Paris offered. But Chakotay suspected he really
wasn’t. The pig.
THE END
Comments and feedback invited (FNKA...@aol.com)
This and other m.c. moose tales can be found at:
http://members.aol.com/FNKAISER/m.c.moose_Voyager_Stories.html
DangerMom
wants, if they're all as good as this one. The conversation was well in
character, and a lot more revealing and interesting than anything TPTB have
given us in a long time. Even just with dialogue, it was easy to envision what
was happening inside the lift, without it being made a distracting part of the
conversation.
And the small narrative portion at the end was terrific, too.
Encore??
DangerMom
Voyager Fiction, Links, and more at:
http://members.aol.com/DangerMom/home.html
Brenda M. Shaw
"buddy-buddy" moments like the men do. I liked seeing Kathryn and
B'Elanna as real human beings. Well done.
--DragonGrrl
--
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
That's what it takes to be a hero, a little gem of innocence
inside you that makes you want to believe that there still exists
a right and wrong, that decency will somehow triumph in the end.
-- Lise Hand, describing the late Irish journalist Veronica
Guerin.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Brenda M. Shaw
ik0...@kingston.net
htpt://www.geocities.com/Wellesley/2036/
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Jamelia116
I have to write you to tell you how much I enjoyed this story. Yes, the
turbolift story is a classic, and this one is a classic of the genre. It's
refreshing to see a story of this ilk that DOESN'T include sex by the trapped!
I've never been tempted, so far, to write a "stuck in the turbolift" story. If
I ever do, I hope it is as good as this one: encompassing all of Trek in its
fabric, not just Voyager, and having wonderful dialogue and characterizations,
too. I really would like to see more Janeway and Torres interaction. Maybe now
that Roxann Dawson is no longer pregnant, we will. I get the feeling she was
written out of a lot of episodes last year.
Anyway, kudos! I am now off to investigate your site for more goodies.
Jamelia