later?" Kim got to his feet and stretched before moving toward his
music stand and picking up his clarinet. "With coffee?"
"I thought you were stuffed?" she teased as she came in and settled on
his couch with a padd in hand.
"I am. But you put temptation in my path! Forget Aphrodite! I've
changed my mind. I think you're more like Circe---an enchantress." He
looked up and caught her gazing at him with rapt intensity. "What?"
She shook her head, smiling. "Nothing."
"No, really. Why are you looking at me like that?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. How am I looking at you?" She dropped her
eyes shyly to the padd in her hand.
He put the clarinet down and came to sit next to her on the couch. He
took her hand in his. "Like you're trying to memorize me?"
"Oh, but I have to memorize you, Harry. I don't have any pictures of
you to look at when you aren't around." She still didn't meet his
eyes.
He pretended to consider that. "You could always download my service
record picture," he suggested.
"Harry, do you know how stuffy you look in that one?" she protested,
wrinkling her nose at him. She tried to back away from him.
He grasped her wrist to keep her near. "Oh, I do, do I? And how would
you know that, Crewman Shadow? Have you been sneaking a peek at my
service record?"
She bit her lip as she nodded. He brought one thumb up to free her lip
from its trap between her teeth.
"Really? Why?" He was intrigued.
"Harry." She was blushing.
"Malista," he crooned, smiling broadly.
"To tell you the truth---promise not to tell Tom? He'd never stop
teasing me about it."
His smile widened. "Sure."
"I sort of had a crush on you and I got your service record
picture---just to look at." She giggled at his astonished countenance.
"I know it was childish and silly, but---the first time I saw you, I
thought you were very good-looking. Even if that picture does make you
look stuffy. I still think you're the handsomest man on the ship."
He chose to ignore that ego-building exaggeration. "When?"
"When what?"
"When did you have a crush on me?" Harry'd had no idea she'd been
interested in him at all before Tom had brought them together. In
fact, he'd had the impression she didn't like him at all. In
hindsight, he decided it was her shyness and self-consciousness that
had made her appear unfriendly and standoffish.
She tugged her wrists free and brought her hands up to cover her
reddened cheeks. "Oh, probably since the second day the Maquis were on
Voyager." And of course, he hadn't noticed her at all. "And you
didn't know I existed till Tom befriended me."
"I must have been blind," he marveled.
"No. Just not ready to pay attention to anyone," she said softly.
"I saw your service record picture too," Harry replied, not wanting to
stay on that topic. Tom had told him repeatedly that Libby was a
forbidden subject---at least until Malista was more secure in her own
relationship with Harry.
"Really? When?"
"At the staff meeting when the captain found out you were working two
shifts." He thought he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes, but
dismissed the idea. She couldn't still be feeling guilty about that
piece of deception. That was months ago.
"Oh? And what did you think?" she asked coyly.
"You weren't smiling at all. You looked stern and forbidding. Scared
me half to death," he lied boldly.
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Liar. You don't scare that
easily."
He snatched her hand and kissed her palm. "Remind me and we'll get Tom
to take a flattering picture of the two of us. Two pictures. One for
A fleeting shadow crossed her expression, but before he could question
her, she pushed him toward the music stand. "Practice, Harry.
Practice. You have a concert next week."
"Yes, mother," he whined boyishly. He began to play as she settled
down to read from the padd. Or at least she was reading every time he
looked up from his music.
***********************
The doctor looked up as Malista Shadow came through the doorway of his
office. "Crewman Shadow, Commander Chakotay tells me you are
interested in training to be a field medic."
"Yes, sir." She was standing at attention.
The hologram indicated the chair opposite his. She sat down. "It will
require hours of study and practice, Crewman. Are you willing to make
that kind of commitment and effort?" His brusqueness could easily be
mistaken for unkindness, but Malista had spent quite a bit of time in
Sickbay---as a patient and working on the equipment. She was
accustomed to his direct manner and dry wit and not intimidated by
him---at least not much.
"Yes, sir."
He nodded approvingly and held out a padd. "Since our crew is
predominantly human, we will begin by studying emergency procedures
for the treatment of humans. This will give you information about
human anatomy and first aid procedures. I will work with Lieutenant
Torres to schedule time for you to work in Sickbay so that you may
learn to operate the specialized equipment. If an emergency should
arise, you should report here for duty. Unfortunately, this ship seems
to experience uncommonly frequent emergencies resulting in traumatic
injuries."
She looked over the information on the padd, then glanced back up at
him. "Thank you, Doctor. Kes tells me you're an excellent instructor."
The EMH gave a pleased, slightly embarrassed smile. "She did? Well, of
course, she did. I am. My programming---" The doctor missed Kes, his
first friend. The Ocampan had been spending less and less time in
Sickbay as she pursued other courses of study in various ship's
departments in an effort to satisfy her endless curiosity.
"I don't think it could be just programming, Doctor. I think part of
it is your personality," Malista said thoughtfully.
"I am a hologram. I don't have a personality," the doctor announced
decisively.
Shadow chuckled, "Trust me, Doc. You have a personality. And you're
developing a sense of humor. In fact, you remind me of my Uncle
Dionysus."
"Really? Dionysus?" He seemed to be trying the name on for size.
Her lips curved upward as she reminisced. "Yes. He was my favorite
uncle. He was a very compassionate man, but many people thought he was
forbidding. He frowned a lot, you see."
The doctor's brow creased. "Do I do that? Frown? I was not aware of
it."
"Maybe you should smile more, Doc. But only when you mean it," she
added hastily as he peered at his reflection in the polished surface
of his desk and stretched his mouth experimentally in a wide,
insincere grin that was far more scary than reassuring.
The Doctor turned his attention back to her. He studied her appearance
for a moment and then said, "Crewman Shadow, your uniform appears to
be too large. Have you been losing weight or
is there a flaw in the
replication system?"
She immediately distracted him without answering the question. "Have
you heard about my holoprogam? The circus?"
"Yes. Kes tells me you and Mr. Paris are going to perform in the next
talent show."
"I've been getting a lot of exercise there. You know, any good circus
needs a ringmaster. In our circus at home, that was my Uncle Dionysus.
I was just wondering if you might consider being the ringmaster---the
master of ceremonies."
"Yes. Yes, of course. I would make an excellent master of ceremonies.
I'll find a proper costume in the databanks. Thank you for asking me."
Malista got to her feet. "I have to get back to work, Doc." She held
up the padd. "I'll get to work on this right away."
Recalled from his daydreams of glory as a ringmaster, the doctor
nodded briskly. "Of course. When you're ready for another assignment,
contact me. I'm available twenty-four hours a day, you know."
Malista darted an assessing glance at him. There didn't seem to be any
underlying meaning to his words so she smiled at him again. "Bye,
Doc."
He'd already dismissed her from his mind. He was busily accessing the
computer's databanks for information on circuses.
***********************
Voyager, as always, was on the lookout for replacement parts or the
raw materials with which to create their own parts. According to the
starcharts obtained from the Travelers, there were three uninhabited
planets in the next system that possessed lush vegetation that would
allow the Starfleet crew to stock up on edible plants, fruits,
vegetables, and seedlings. Janeway had ordered long range scans of the
uninhabited planetary systems which they were approaching.
"No humanoid life signs were detected," Ensign Kim reported. "In fact
no signs of life at all except for vegetation."
"If the planets are as fertile as the Travelers suggest in their
report, I'd think someone would have colonized them by now," Chakotay
stated.
"There was no sign of colonies or space travel. But we did find
these," Kim leaned forward and punched a control. The viewscreen
sprung to life showing a number of small objects floating in space
within the system. "They appear to be artificial satellites of some
sort."
"Possibly monitoring devices," Torres chimed in. "We received some
telemetry from the nearest one, but we haven't been able to make any
sense of it."
"Some kind of warning buoy?" Lieutenant Tuvok speculated.
Paris sent him a disbelieving smile. "Not necessarily. It could be
someone is thinking about colonizing these worlds and sent out
preliminary probes to gather information."
Tuvok raised an eyebrow at the younger man. "An optimistic theory, Mr.
Paris, but one with no factual basis."
Tom snorted and leaned forward to respond. The captain caught his eyes
with hers and the gray steel convinced him to settle back in his chair
and await developments.
"Keep working on decoding the telemetry, Mr. Kim. I would like to know
if we're trespassing before we reach the system and begin harvesting
food," Janeway instructed. "Anything further? No? Dismissed."
As the rest of the staff filed out of the briefing room, the first
officer lingered. Janeway glanced up at him. "Did you have something
to discuss, Commander?"
"Yes, Captain," he sighed, "but in private."
She gestured to the chair next to her as she reseated herself. He
sank into his chair and tried to decide how to begin. "Is something
wrong?" she asked.
"I haven't brought this to your attention before, Captain, because I
wanted to find out how serious and widespread the problem is. But I've
been having difficulty doing that," Chakotay paused. "It seems there
has been a resurgence in tension between the two crews."
Janeway's gray eyes widened. "Really? I thought we'd gotten past
that---after we were marooned by the Kazon on Hanon IV."
Chakotay shrugged. "There are still a few hard heads, but basically
you're right. Most of the ill feeling had subsided or been worked out.
It's experienced a recent revival."
"Why?" Janeway was concerned. She cast her mind back over the events
of the last few weeks and could think of nothing that should have
polarized the crew.
"That's part of the problem. No one is talking. To anyone," the first
officer elucidated. "The Maquis have----withdrawn from their easy,
social relationships. They seem to be watching the 'Fleeters as if
they expect an attack. The last time I saw them react this way was
when we were in Cardassian space."
"Do you think it might have something to do with the crew evaluations
and promotions lists we've been working on?"
Chakotay shrugged. "I don't know. I suggest we hold off on scheduling
the evaluation meetings and announcing the results. It might help ease
things a bit. But whatever the cause, the tension has been steadily
rising for the past few weeks."
"And you have no idea what set this off?" Janeway was puzzled.
"No one's talking to me, either. In fact, they're watching me, too.
Trying to see what I'm going to do about it. Don't read me wrong,
Captain. They aren't actively hostile. They just aren't friendly. And
the Starfleet personnel aren't talking either. It seems to be about
ten of the Starfleet crew who know what is going on and are somehow
involved. In whatever. The others are puzzled, but neutral. It makes
for an interesting ambiance in the common areas of the ship," Chakotay
added wryly.
"I hadn't noticed," Janeway confessed regretfully. "Maybe I need to
spend more time socializing."
That reminded the commander of the question he'd forgotten to ask
before. "Yes, Captain. You did seem to be enjoying yourself at
Sandrine's the other night with Tom Paris and his crowd. Would you
mind telling me why everyone at your table was staring at me?"
To his mild surprise, the captain flicked a grin at him as she
remembered the occasion. "Oh, yes. It seems that Tom and Malista
invented a game. The object is to identify every crew member with a
literary figure. We'd just been discussing the character Malista had
chosen to represent you." The grin was now reminiscent of a Tom Paris
smirk.
Chakotay winced in anticipation as a few ideas of their possible
choices for him popped into his head. "And?"
"Oberon." She waited for recognition to set in.
The light slowly dawned. "The character from Shakespeare? The fairy
king?" His voice became progressively louder. "Why?"
Janeway's grin widened. "I was hoping you'd ask. Other than 'A
Midsummer Night's Dream', other references to Oberon credit him with
having the gift of insight into men's thoughts. Malista thought that
was appropriate because of your----counseling duties." She was
beginning to splutter.
Chakotay knew she hadn't reached the punchline. "And?"
"And though he's only three feet tall---he has an---angelic face!" At
the expression on her first officer's 'angelic face', Janeway
succumbed to laughter, falling back in her chair and holding her
sides.
Chakotay looked bemused. "Angelic face? Me? She thinks *I* have an
angelic face?" He grinned at the captain. "Angelic. That's not the
word I would have used to describe myself."
"That's what * I * said," Kathryn burbled, watching as his eyes
narrowed in suspicion. "I said bear-like---if you remember? When I was
guessing about your animal guide."
"Grizzly bear?" the first officer asked impishly. His dimples flashed.
Janeway gasped, "That's what *Tom* said! Grizzly or teddy?"
Chakotay groaned as she laughed again. "I don't think I want to hear
the rest of the conversation, Captain. Unless---" He eyed her
speculatively. "Captain, what character did they assign to you?"
She sobered in a heartbeat. "I beg your pardon?"
She was stalling for time and he knew it so he pressed his advantage.
"Captain? What literary figure did they choose to represent you?"
She stood and pulled her uniform into perfect alignment. "Commander,
don't you have work to do?" She was frowning, but her gray eyes were