by Janet and Christina
Introduction
Sometimes life on Voyager can be almost too exciting. At others,
it can consist of the following of long-established protocols
and
routines during shifts, while off-duty life in the Voyager
community flows on as it would just about anywhere. As Voyager
comes ever closer to home, however, even the routine becomes
precious . . .
This week's story is a short slice of life from one evening
in the life of the crew of Voyager. The next offering, to appear
in two weeks, is "In the Trenches," a regular-length
episode
which concerns an away mission that promises to be as routine
as
they come.
Little Feat
by Christina and Jamelia
"I'm Gary Jones," the tall blond human enthused from
the big holographic screen over the bar.
"And I'm M'Tak," the Klingon said with a loud roar.
"Welcome to the FBC broadcast of the Galactic Kal'toh
Championships on Vulcan. Gary, over to you."
"The excitement is palpable," Gary said as the camera
panned past the few Vulcans calmly mulling about. "This
once in a decade event brings top Kal'toh players from
around the galaxy. Over the past seven weeks, all
but two have been eliminated."
"Seven weeks ago--" M'Tak cut in as the image switched
to
a Ferengi and a Bajoran player studying the Kal'toh shape
in front of them. "The elimination rounds began. Representatives
from twenty-five planets and thirty-six Kal'toh clubs began
playing this exciting, yet so logical game." M'Tak placed
a
microphone in front of a short Vulcan in shiny forest-green
robes. "So, how do you prepare for a game?"
"I meditate for several hours," the Vulcan said slowly,
then he moved away.
"That was the reigning champion, here to defend his crown, Gary."
"Many exciting games have been played over the past seven
weeks.
We have put together highlights of the most spectacular..."
"Computer, mute." In a soft voice that was almost
a whisper,
Harry added to Tom, "I thought you said you'd received the
tapes of the entire tournament. This looks like we only got
the final."
Tom Paris, dressed in a decidedly loud Hawaiian shirt, sat
across from the more sedately-garbed Harry Kim. Tom shrugged
and murmured absently, "I asked for them all, Harry, but
mostly
they sent tapes of the last Olympics. At least you've got
this one to study." Tom swiftly worked the controls of the
PADD in his hand for several more seconds before a thoughtful
expression spread over his face. "I wonder if anyone would
want to place a bet on the outcome?"
"Are you kidding? Everybody will be sure you saw the tapes
beforehand."
"True, but I don't have to bet myself. I can just act
as the
betting agent."
"I thought you gave up such nefarious bachelor pursuits
since
you got married and had a baby," Harry noted.
"Gambling has a long and illustrious history, Harry. I
don't
recall that marriage and fatherhood have ever been an impediment
for a man to indulge in it every now and then--as long as it's
kept within reason, of course. And by the way, B'Elanna had the
baby, Harry. I was only there to catch."
"That's not quite the way I heard it," Harry said,
as Tom's smile
broadened into a smug grin.
"Maybe it was a little more than that," Tom agreed,
as he glanced
around the holodeck. At 1500 in the afternoon, few of the crew
were observing the announcers' play-by-play. While Neelix's
Resort had never been as popular as Sandrine's, the program still
was set to run at least three times a week, mostly during the
day
shift. Volleyball on the beach was universally acknowledged by
the crew to be a more satisfying game than the regular sports
program version. Shouts and cheers occasionally drifted into the
bar area from the beach,the only reminder to Tom and Harry that
they were not alone in the program. At that hour, the handful
of
crew using Holodeck Two were using the courts, not the tables
in
the restaurant.
"I think you're probably right about the betting, Harry.
We might
see some action when you meet Tuvok for the all-Voyager Kal'toh
championship, though. Too bad Seven isn't here to add a little
drama. At least Icheb has been coming along well lately."
Tom
returned his attention to watching the tape, just in time to see
a Klingon player fling the table across the room. The Kal'toh
shimmered mid air and became a perfect sphere.
"Ah, the Klingon gambit," Tom nodded slowly, like
a wizened sage
on a mountaintop.
"As if you know anything about the game!" Harry snorted.
"Don't need to know about 'the game.' I know 'Klingons.'
Throwing
things across a room is central to the culture. It's the way they
do everything, Har."
"I don't think throwing the table across the room is going
to
help me beat Tuvok in tonight's tournament."
"Well, keep studying the tape. There's more highlights.
And if
that doesn't help, we'll put on the Olympics and see if some of
those events help you. Javelin throw, maybe?"
"Very funny, Tom," Harry said, as he turned the sound back on.
M'tak's voice blared out. "And how can anyone forget the
first
elimination round back in May." The picture cut to a Ferengi
and
Rigellan player sitting under a wood shelter. "Tonk made
a
brilliant move." The Kal'toh shimmered as the Ferengi player
deftly moved one of the pieces. Suddenly a sphere formed. "The
judges ordered an examination of the tapes and discovered that
Tonk had secretly added a piece. He was disqualified." The
Ferengi player stood up and pulled a phaser on the judge.
"A sorry piece of gamesmanship," Gary said as the
image switched
to another set of players. "The Ferengi government threatened
to
file a complaint, but considering the number of recent events
involving Ferengi trying to steal Federation technology..."
"Now to perhaps the finest move seen this season. Dr.
Olivia
Kowalski's gambit in the quarter finals," M'tak said.
"Dr. Kowalski is from Baton Rouge on Earth," Gary
said, "a
theoretical mathematics professor at the university there. She
discovered Kal'toh just five years ago and has been one of the
leading players for the past three years. She claims Kal'toh is
the purest math." The camera moved in to where her left hand
hovered just above the pieces.
"Pure math? I love math . . ." Harry leaned forward,
avidly
watching the screen. Suddenly, he shouted out excitedly, "She's
got it now! And I see exactly what she's doing, Tom! Wow,
what subtle geometry! That's it! I can beat him now, Tom! I can!
This is my night! I know it!"
"Uh, huh. I've heard that before. But every other time
. . . "
Tom's comm badge interrupted him. Tom answered it with alacrity.
::::Lieutenant Paris? Miral has awakened from her nap.::::
"Right there, Doc. Paris out." Tom picked up his
PADD and took to
his feet. "I'll be there to cheer you on, Harry, but right
now
I'm going to pick up my best little girl."
"OK, Tom. Give her a kiss for me! See you tonight for
the victory
party."
****
As Tom strode down the corridor towards the Paris-Torres family
quarters, his daughter babbling away in his ear, everyone he
encountered spared a quick hello for him. Miral drew the bulk
of
the attention, however. She was the one to get a big wave, a
funny face, or a "Hiya, there, Honey!" from the crew.
Tom fondly
remembered when the "Hiya, Honey's" were for Tom Paris,
Ship
Lothario--although that reputation was never as well deserved
as
most people still thought.
He couldn't help feeling a slight touch of nostalgia for those
days, but it was nothing compared to that which he was sure he
would feel when the Voyager crew had scattered throughout the
Alpha Quadrant. Only a few more jumps now. Soon, the camaraderie
and feeling of community that had transformed him from a lonely,
bitter ex-con who hid his despair behind a snarky sense of humor
to a confident, responsible officer, husband, and father--albeit
with his trademark quips and sarcasm still intact--all that would
be gone. Although he knew most of the credit for the change in
him was due to the faith the captain, B'Elanna, and Harry had
had
in him, in a very real way he owed the entire crew of Voyager,
for the happiness and self-esteem he now enjoyed.
And much of his reward for this was his daughter. Tom truly
worshipped the deck upon which she would someday walk. Not that
she hadn't begun to walk; she'd actually started taking steps
several weeks before. But after that exciting beginning, Miral
had become unexpectedly cautious about walking after taking a
nasty fall and cutting her forehead on the corner of the coffee
table the very next day. Ever since, Miral would take only three
or four steps before grabbing onto a piece of furniture or a
parent's leg.
Tom had thought it understandable and was sure she'd come around
fairly soon; but B'Elanna had become extremely worried. "Most
Klingons are running around by the time they're seven months old.
They never let a little bump on the head stop them."
Tom had found this amusing for multiple reasons, most notably
because B'Elanna, having made such a fuss about how Klingon their
daughter might be before she was born, now was concerned Miral
might not be Klingon enough! Needless to say, Tom had chosen to
keep this particular observation to himself. He wasn't eager to
find himself flung to the other side of the room.
*
As Tom and Miral entered their quarters, he said, "Hey!"
in surprise.
"Mama!" Miral cried out excitedly.
"Hello, Sweeting." B'Elanna scooped Miral out of
Tom's arms to
give her daughter a quick hug before setting the squirming child
down on the floor next to the table.
'Talk about nostalgia,' Tom thought, experiencing the slight
pang
he always felt when hearing B'Elanna use the affectionate
nickname Neelix had used for Kes. Tom never could quite bring
himself to use it himself, even though the name was perfect for
his little girl. But he said only, "Gee, don't I get a nice
greeting, too?"
"Sure, Helmboy. Nice shirt . . ."
"Thanks," he said blandly, puckering up to accept
the kiss she
belatedly offered him. "I'm surprised you're home so early.
Beta
shift is only just beginning!"
B'Elanna shrugged as she went back to setting the table for
a
quick, replicated meal. "I'm afraid to say it out loud, but
everything went right for a change. No warp core breaches, no
plasma coolant leaks, no readings outside of acceptable tolerance
levels . . . I'd think my staff had fudged the data to get off
on
time for the tournament tonight, except I double-checked all the
results myself. The ship is just about ready for the next jump
the day after tomorrow. I figure we're due for a big emergency,
right in the middle of the climactic part of the final, and Tuvok
will still be champion."
Tom groaned, "Don't even think that! No self-fulfilling
prophecies tonight! Harry actually thinks he'll beat Tuvok this
time!"
"Delusions of grandeur, do you think?" B'Elanna laughed.
"Well, he *has* improved a lot. Icheb and Vorik are both
getting
really good, too. And the law of averages is bound to catch up
with Tuvok someday."
"Maybe not. Who knows how much longer . . . Tom? Are you
listening to me?"
In a whisper, Tom said, "B'Elanna, look!"
Miral had cruised around the table, barely touching the chairs,
as she often did, but she hadn't stopped there. With her gaze
fastened unwaveringly upon the toy targ sprawled on the floor
at the far side of the room beside the couch, hesitantly at
first, but then more quickly, Miral took a step, and then
another and another, until she had practically run across the
room.
When she was close enough, she bent down to swipe at the toy with
her hand. Overcompensating when she bent down to grab the targ,
the
child plopped down upon her cushioned bottom. Unperturbed, Miral
sat on the floor, carefully tracing over her toy targ's facial
features with an exploratory forefinger.
"Miral! Honey, that was wonderful! You were running!"
B'Elanna
said, taking a step towards her daughter.
Tom put out his arm and stopped her. "Wait, B'Elanna,
let's see
if we can get her to come back to us."
Miral looked around at her parents, smiled a drooly grin, and
then turned back to the targ and hauled it up by a back leg. With
the unoccupied hand, Miral pulled on the edge of the couch,
helping herself back on her feet.
B'Elanna and Tom both crouched down and waved at Miral. "Come
here, Miral! Come to Mommy and Daddy!"
Miral squealed, apparently delighted by the funny way her parents
were standing. Then, toy targ flopping with every step as it
swung from side to side, she walked back the way she'd come,
right into their beckoning arms.
Dinner ended up being served late. The evening's planned
entertainment was forgotten, replaced with two happy parents
tossing a ball back and forth to their suddenly very
mobile youngster.
****
"Welcome to the Eighth Annual Delta Quadrant Kal'toh Championship--
except that since we're in the Beta Quadrant, I think we're going
to have to change the name on the cup!" Janeway paused to
permit
the polite laughter to die down. "The eight participants
seated
before you now earned their places by their outstanding
achievement in the preliminary matches. Please join me in
saluting them, as well as all of the entrants for the entire
tournament, for their efforts!"
The applause was much more enthusiastic than the laughter for
her
weak joke had been, Janeway was glad to hear.
"I regret I will not be able to remain for the entire
match this
evening. Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant Kim, and Lieutenant Rollins
were all scheduled to be on the bridge this evening, so Commander
Chakotay and I are going to fill in for them." Janeway paused
so
the expected chorus of moans could end before her final words.
"I wish all of you the best of luck this evening."
Janeway took a step back as Megan Delaney, the officiating
referee and tournament organizer, took her place. Megan cleared
her throat before announcing, "I declare this tournament
open.
The matches begin . . . now!"
The crowd drifted around the perimeter of the four tables where
the participants were seated. Tuvok, as top seed, was facing Noah
Lessing, who had finished in the eight spot. Harry was playing
Rollins. Susan Nicoletti was contesting Vorik, not only for the
ship championship, but also for bragging rights in engineering;
while Icheb was across the table from Samantha Wildman. Naomi
had
confided mournfully to Janeway that she couldn't possibly enjoy
their match, since she couldn't cheer for one without hurting
the
feelings of the other.
With the attention of the crowd fixed upon the contestants,
as
was proper, Janeway felt she could slip away quietly to the
doorway where her first officer was waiting patiently.
At least, she assumed it was patiently, since she'd been afraid
to meet his eyes while making her speech. At the door she looked
up, saw that devastating grin of his, and pursed her lips to hold
in her laughter until after they'd passed out of the corridor
and
into the turbolift. As the door closed, she poked him in the ribs
and murmured, "Don't say it!"
"Say what, Captain? About how sorry I am about making
you miss
the Kal'toh tournament?"
"Oh, please . . . I actually enjoy playing the game, even
though
Tuvok flattens my ego every time he beats me--which is every time
we 'compete.' But to watch others play? It's excruciating."
"I'd rather watch paint dry, myself."
"I'd rather do inventory. Truly. At least that's a constructive
use of one's time!"
"Well, Kathryn, after our bridge duty is over, I'm sure
I can
find something for us to inventory."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Really? I thought we could 'read
a
few reports' together; but if you'd prefer an inventory, I
could be persuaded. What did you have in mind?"
The turbolift door opened, saving him from having to answer
in
any way but with his most wicked smile. She didn't really mind,
though. She knew he'd more than make up for it later.
***
Tom entered the holodeck first, before B'Elanna who was carrying
a squirming Miral in her arms. Suddenly confident in her ability
to get around, Miral had been unwilling to remain still in either
of their arms the entire trip to the holodeck. She wanted to be
down on her own two feet, no doubt running amuck throughout the
ship. 'Careful what you wish for, indeed,' Tom thought.
Quickly surveying the room before tapping B'Elanna on the
shoulder, Tom whispered, "Hey, look, B'Elanna. If Vulcans
could
sweat . . ."
"Certainly looks like it! Nobody else is playing. This
must be
the final. I thought the captain and Chakotay would be here for
this."
"Maybe they're 'reading reports' again."
"Tom!" B'Elanna murmured warningly, but with a smirk
of
appreciation.
Tom relented. "Actually, they're on the bridge, covering
for
Harry and Tuvok."
"Ah. Right. I'd forgotten. Look, there's Icheb, standing
next to
Naomi and Sam Wildman. I wonder how far he got?"
"Iggy!" Miral called out, drawing the young man's
attention
towards the door.
Stepping away from the first rank of observers around the
central table, where Tuvok and Harry were seated across from each
other, Icheb brushed by Naomi and approached the family. "Where
were you, Tom? I wondered if something had happened when you
didn't come."
"Something did happen--nothing bad," Tom hastened
to add, "but
it did hold us up. I was hoping you'd still be playing when we
got here."
"I did quite well, but Lieutenant Kim defeated me in the
semi-finals. Vorik lost to Commander Tuvok in the other match."
"I'm sorry we missed it, Icheb."
"It's all right, Tom."
"How's Harry doing against Tuvok?" B'Elanna asked
Icheb as
she shifted Miral from one arm to the other so she was closer
to her uncle "Iggy."
"Extremely well. He has an excellent chance of winning,"
Icheb
replied with a smile as Miral launched herself into his arms and
gave him a kiss on the cheek. "He's playing a brilliant game
tonight."
"Thank Dr. Kowalski," Tom said.
"I am unfamiliar with the name."
"Earth mathematician. Harry watched a vid of her game
in the
championships."
"Interesting," Icheb replied as he handed Miral back
to B'Elanna.
"I shall endeavour to see this vid."
"Come by for dinner tomorrow and we'll show it to you," Tom said.
"We've got something else to show you, too," B'Elanna
added,
beaming as she set Miral down on the floor a few paces in back
of
them. "Go on, Honey! Let Uncle Icheb see what you can do."
As Icheb reacted to Miral's solo approach, Naomi and Sam turned
around to see why he'd said, "Bravo!" Within seconds,
other
members of the crew had turned their backs to the game. Miral
walked from one person to another, grabbing hold of a knee or
two
but never losing her balance while her proud parents looked on.
The pride turned to concern a minute later. "B'Elanna,
do you see
Miral? I can't find her in that forest of legs around Harry and
Tuvok's table."
"No, I can't. We'd better find her. I don't want her to
get hurt
again!"
***
Tuvok slipped the metallic sliver into the construct, causing
it
to shiver as it folded itself into another beautiful shape.
Harry's lips twisted into a broad grin. He picked up a Kal'toh
piece and tapped it on his palm absently. From the way Harry's
eyes moved over the shape before him, Tuvok could tell he had
already selected the place he intended to place it into the game.
Finally he did so; the Kal'toh board swelled up and changed
again, not into a perfect sphere, but into one of the precursors.
Tuvok knew this particular precursor lead to its creator winning
a Kal'toh match within the next ten moves 74.95% of the time,
unless the opponent--Tuvok--did something truly foolish to make
the shape collapse. There would be no benefit in that, of course.
If the design collapsed due to a poor move on his part, Harry
Kim
would also win his first Kal'toh tournament, this time by
default.
It might not matter. Tuvok also knew he did not have a
defense for the move Harry was contemplating. A certain number
of
steps would need to be taken to complete the game. Unfortunately,
Tuvok could see no shortcut by which he could intervene to "swoop
in," as Mr. Paris might say, to be the one to complete the
design--unless Mr. Kim made a mistake. Mr. Kim had made very few
of those this evening.
No, it was not looking favorable for Tuvok at that moment.
To
make matters worse, Tuvok's usually keen powers of concentration
were being sorely tested by a commotion in the crowd to his
right. At times like these, sharp Vulcan hearing was not
necessarily an asset.
Upon reviewing all of the options open to him, Tuvok selected
a
piece and reluctantly inserted it into the Kal'toh design. As
the
shape swelled up, the crowd around him erupted in a loud "Ah."
Tuvok's expectations where not as high as the audience's,
however. Momentarily spherical, the Kal'toh construct coalesced
into another ovoid form.
Stifling a sigh at his opponent's immediate grin, Tuvok set
his
elbow on the table, heedless of the game piece which slipped off
its edge. The sound of the small Kal'toh piece landing upon the
floor was muffled by the nervous shuffling of booted feet which
was sufficient to drown out the buzz of the watchers. Tuvok was
not concerned about dropped item. The game would be over long
before he would need it.
Harry made his move, to another set of "ahs" from
the crowd. The
end of Tuvok's reign as the champion Kal'toh player on Voyager
was about to end. Soothing himself into calmness, Tuvok reflected
upon the fact that eight years as unbeaten champion was a record
none of his colleagues could have bested, even if Voyager's
journey were to last another eight years. With slow, stately
motions, he inserted a game piece. The change was minimal.
The coup de grace must be only moments away.
Harry contained himself with difficulty. In his moment of triumph
he glanced around the table, making eye contact with Ensign
Marla Gilmore as he picked up a game piece with a flourish. Harry
moved his hand towards an opening in the side of the design,
smiling confidently.
But another hand suddenly emerged from beneath the table--a
pudgy
little fist which gripped the fallen Kal'toh stick, glimmering
with an additional sheen as if it had been licked by a curious
tongue. In paralyzed fascination, Tuvok watched the tip of the
piece glide neatly into the hole that he, and, he was certain,
Lieutenant Harry Kim would have used to finish the game. It was,
however, not at the precise angle the Vulcan would have chosen,
although it was surprisingly close.
The stunned "ohs" from the crowd became groans as
the construct
expanded into a perfect sphere for a tantalizing second before
an
unusual spark, like that of an electrical short circuit, snapped
out of the shape in the vicinity of the final Kal'toh piece's
introduction. The construct immediately contracted and collapsed
into a pile of metallic splinters.
"No!!!!" Harry howled in frustration. "I was
going to win! I had
the championship won! Tuvok! You know I should have won!"
The Vulcan leaned back in his chair, conscious of a pair of
small
arms clutching at his knee at the moment of Mr. Kim's outburst.
Tuvok's brow furrowed as he steepled his fingers in front of his
face. "You may well have won if you had played your piece.
But by
the rules of Kal'toh, each move must be completed in alternating
order--by the participants--or the game is forfeit. In this case,
the entire game has been nullified by an outside agent."
"No!" Harry cried out again, as Marla patted his
shoulder
consolingly.
"Don't worry, Harry, there's always next time," B'Elanna
said
distractedly as she tried to look beneath the table top. "Have
you seen my daughter? She must be here somewhere."
Harry ignored B'Elanna's question. "Tomorrow! Yes! Tuvok,
I
demand a rematch! Tomorrow . . ."
"I do not believe we will have the time for another tournament
tomorrow, Lieutenant," Tuvok stated solemnly as he carefully
maneuvered Miral out from beneath the table, his hand cushioning
the top of her head to protect it from another unfortunate
encounter with a tabletop. "However, if you wish, I will
speak to
the captain about scheduling another in a few more weeks."
"A few more weeks! We might be home by then!" Harry moaned.
"I will discuss it with Captain Janeway." From the
tone
of Tuvok's voice, it was clear that the subject was closed.
"But . . ." Harry sputtered.
"Harry, you're not being a very good example here,"
Tom clucked,
carefully emptying his daughter's hands of the three Kal'toh
pieces she had liberated from the playing surface. "We can
talk
to the captain about it tomorrow."
Harry slumped back in his chair, shaking his head in defeat,
while the crowd began to drift away--a lucky few collecting on
bets which had stated Tuvok would "remain Voyager's Kal'toh
champion" without specifying he would actually win the match.
Tom and B'Elanna squatted next to their daughter. "That
wasn't
very nice of you, Miral," Tom admonished gently. "I
never thought
you'd start playing Kal'toh before you try out some easier games,
like . . ."
"Like poker?" Mulcahey called out with a laugh.
"Actually, I was going to say Pick-Up Sticks," Tom
replied, with
an amused glance in Mulcahey's direction before addressing his
daughter again. "But you're even pretty young for that!"
"That may be," Tuvok said, as he also crouched down
next to
the ship's youngest inhabitant. "However, I believe I must
find
an opportunity to begin your first lessons in Kal'toh very soon,
Miral Torres Paris. It may be some time before you are able to
successfully complete a Klingon Gambit move, but clearly, you
are a 'natural.' "
Miral answered him with a loud screech of joy.
Tuvok nodded in agreement. "Indeed."
FIN
Next: In the Trenches the routine of spaceflight, resupplying, and an old ruin.