The BLTS Archive-  Just an Ordinary Day
by Amiroq. aka Gypzy (fitchett@netaccess.co.nz)

---

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. How many times need I say it?

---
PROLOGUE
---

Three below. Another two a while away. And perhaps another one.
Certainly no more than six - unless they sent down two lots. Unlikely.
The three below are friends. The taller male jokes with the woman:
they were dating, but they split up on good terms. The dark haired
male laughs with them, but he doesn't get all their jokes. He feels
left out. They won't stay long - their bags are filling quicky with
the abundance of fruit in the area. They may come back later, but soon 
they will leave, if only for a short time.

The female dares this male to get some of the bigger fruits, up at the
top of the trees. I shift uncomfortably. If he does, he will see me.
I'm a good ten metres up, and can only hear the conversation the wind
gives to me, but it seems likely that he will. He looks up to the
taller male - literally - and doesn't want to appear scared of 
anything. I glance around, looking for an escape route. The only one I 
can see is dangerous - I would have to jump from this tree to another, 
further away than they usually grow. I will either fall or make too 
loud a noise. Either way, they will see me.

So I wait. And I watch. And he climbs the tree.

Two things happen next. The first was inevitable: he sees me. It was
close. He was coming down. I was almost ready to let out a breath. He 
nearly falls; glances over. As he starts to yell, the second thing
happens.

They catch up to me. That was likely, though I could have escaped it
if these people hadn't come. The thing is, They don't see me. They see
the woman. I only saw the back of her head before, but when they shoot
her I see she looks exactly like me. She *is* me - she's me from this
universe. The taller male cries out when he realises what's happening.
The other two come running. *They* leave. They believe their work is
done.

The man in the tree glances at me, then down at the ground. He
immediately forgets me and gets down as fast as he can. But I can't
leave yet. The rest will see me - although I know as soon as they beam
the other me back to their ship that he will say something. And then
they will know I'm here. It's a lose-lose situation.

Oh, I suppose I could escape. Outrun them through the trees. Then they
might shoot me, though I doubt it. They might beam me aboard. Shoot
the branches, maybe, so I have nowhere to go. They won't want me to
get away, though. They'll want to know who I am, where I came from,
what I'm  doing here. And I wouldn't be able to tell them.

They beam her aboard, to their Medical Unit I assume, and the taller
male goes too. He *was* the only one who really saw what had happened.
When they're gone, the dark-haired male

(is dead or dying, burning, like meat on a barbecue)

speaks with one of the two that came running - she has reddish brown
hair and a red uniform, like the taller man's. The other man, one with
dark skin and a gold uniform like my counterpart's and the dark-haired
male's, goes into the trees to look for Them. The woman nods, calls to
the man, who returns, speaks with him while watching the area I occupy
carefully. I know she cannot see me, but she thinks that she will
notice if I move. She probably will.

And then she calls to me.

I don't speak to her. Or rather, I speak, but in Spanish. They argue
over why it doesn't translate. The dark-haired man says it's because
it isn't my first language - I think in English, but I speak in
Spanish. Which is true. The UT, as he calls it, only translates
thoughts. He knows ships systems. From what they say, the only person
who knows Spanish is me. And she is unconscious.

So they find out nothing.

---
PART ONE
---

The Doctor had been busy, doing two things at once. The first thing
was trying to find *something*, *anything*, that would help B'Elanna.
He'd studied the wound, he'd studied piles and piles of records, he
studied everything he could think of.

The second thing had been translation. Harry had loaded the Spanish
dictionary into his database, and in the timeframe of an instant he'd
learned the entire language. However, as soon as the woman had worked
out they could talk to her after all, she starting speaking English.
The Doctor had returned to studying, and on the other side of Sickbay
the woman was being interrogated - though rather ineffectively. She
had said nothing of any use, and little of no use. In short, she had
hardly spoken.

Kathryn was getting annoyed. She had thought the woman might know
something they could use to cure B'Elanna - originally she'd though it
might have been *her* that had shot the Chief Engineer, but Harry had
said he'd been looking right at her when it happened, and she hadn't
touched her phaser. But if she did, she wasn't telling. All she would
do was sit curled up in the corner and lash out if anyone got too
close. She decided to try a posture. She pulled her phaser out of its 
holster and spun the setting right down. The woman's eyes followed her 
hands the whole time, ignoring Tuvok's cocked eyebrow and Harry's
unbelieving stare. "I want to hear anything you know about the weapons
my Chief Engineer was shot with. And I want to hear now, before I'm
forced to cook you alive. Is that clear?"

I struggle to block panic. Gun, my instincts tell me. I'm in a corner.
Flight or fight? Not flight - I can't move without them catching me.
And how can I fight? She's threatening to cook me alive

(like meat on a barbecue, blackened skin flaking and tough)

! And then a rush of adrenalin kicks in and I see every detail of the
room - her gun is set to the lowest setting, I think. She doesn't hold
it very tightly, either. Maybe I could knock it away, if I'm quick
enough...? Behind her the two men are both surprised at her behaviour.
It isn't normal, I suppose. Either she's gone crazy, then, or it's a
posture. I look at her eyes: there's no trace of madness. 
Determination. She wants this to work. I know why she set it lower -
if she sets it too high, I'd be killed, and then she wouldn't get her
information anyway. But on closer inspection, I see that the power
cell in the weapon isn't even connected. I'm sure it's a posture now. 
But the gun...

Harry's gaze flicked between Kathryn and the woman on the floor; one
cool and calculating, the other - scared? More like terrified. He
debated stopping her, but he knew she would have a reason for this
totally irrational behaviour. It had to be a posture. She had to
realise that shooting her would destroy their only source of
information. But still... the poor thing was practically having a
heart attack. He couldn't just stand by and let it continue. He 
hesitated a moment more as Kathryn stared at the woman and the woman 
stared at the gun, then steps forward. "Captain, let me try."

She paused then, glanced at him then at the woman dubiously, and
stepped back. "Alright."

He sat next to her, not to close so as not to be attacked, and studied
her face as her eyes flicked to his hands, his phaser. He took it out
and threw it along the floor, and when it finally stopped it was well
out of reach, perhaps five or ten metres away. Now Kathryn looked at
him in surprise, but he ignored her, as she had him until he'd spoken
up. "What's your name?" he asked quietly. She hesitated, looked at
him, then her gaze settled on Kathryn. He turned and asked her to
leave. She did, and Tuvok followed - not the room, as he'd wanted, but
the end of the room, at least, to stand by B'Elanna while Tom and the
Doctor worked.

"What's your name

(Maquis)

?" he asks again. I stare at the other end of the room, at the woman
on the bed. Dying, most likely. I've run from those things as long as
I can remember, and I don't know how many people have died because of
it. Most of them in Their torture chambers, no doubt, trying to
convince Them they have no idea where I am. I don't even remember why
They want me, but there's been so much blood shed over me. I have to
help her. She's me, after all. But it's hard... things here... I don't
know.

"B'Elanna Torres," I tell him finally.

"Harry Kim." He offers me a hand, but after a moment pulls it back
when I just look at it. The captain watches out of the corner of her
eye. She thinks I don't notice. Harry doesn't realise, or pretends not
to. "Was your father Spanish?"

I just shrug. He's trying to make conversation, make it seem like he
isn't interrogating me, but I'm not fooled. I never am, anymore.

"How did you get to the Delta Quadrant? It's a long way from home."

The words, Delta Quadrant, are like a jolt of electricity. A memory, I
guess. We're in the Delta Quadrant. "I don't *have* a home," I tell
him simply. I can't voice the other thoughts, the ones that yearn for
a place to stay where I can be safe.

"Where were you born, then?"

I just shrug. He sighs, trying to make it inaudible, but I hear it.
I'm being difficult. But he's asking all the wrong questions. I can't
answer these. Why doesn't he just ask about Them?

And then he does. "I don't know. They've been chasing me for.... I
can't remember how long."

"Why?"

Again, I don't know. But I don't say that. "I have something they
want." Vague enough that it's probably true. I don't know, though,
whether it's me they want, or something physical I have in my
possession, one of the many trinkets I own. Cloaks, trans-dimensional
portals, guns, tricorders set to scan for *their* cloaks... I have too 
many to count, I think.

"Do you know how to heal those phaser wounds?"

The word phaser again. I say gun, but the word phaser seems so
achingly familiar. I shake my head, in my mind only. Stay on track. "I
think so. I don't know. It might be worth a try."

"What?"

"I have something.... It was with my things. She took them." I look at
the captain. She's still watching us, and when she sees me looking at
her she turns around. She still thinks I haven't noticed. "It was in
the smallest pocket of my bag."

He nods. "Thanks. Are you sure you're okay?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just thought you might have been hurt.... When you fell out of the
tree."

"It was all of two metres. And as I recall, it was your chief of
security that shot that branch."

"I take that to mean you're alright."

I shrug, and ignore the dull ache in my abdomen. I've been through
worse. He takes that to mean he's right, and I'm right, and goes to
find my bag. Yeah, I'm alright.

---

When all was explained and done with, and they worked out how to treat
B'Elanna, Kathryn offered her counterpart asylum. It was obvious, of
course, that she didn't want to say who exactly she was running from,
but would only call them 'them'. Maybe she thought it was safer that
way. So now she'd been given quarters and general run of the ship,
provided she didn't decide to explore any ship's systems other than
the holodecks and replicators.

It was easy enough, of course, to find Harry's quarters by asking the
computer and following its directions. It wasn't so easy to ring the
doorchime. Not physically, of course, but emotionally, or mentally, it
was difficult to reach up and press the button knowing that when he
answered she'd have to say something.

There was nothing to say.

She read the metal plate over a few times: 'Ensign Harry Kim' it said.
Then she studied the blue button she was going to have to push. It was
a pale medical colour - medical was the word that came to her mind
first, though she didn't know exactly where it came from. Certainly
the Medical Unit here was white, not blue - and the insignia on it was
unfamiliar. There wasn't much else to look at. A few keys to unlock 
the door, if it was locked and you knew the code, and that was about 
it.

She would maybe have stood there for some time much longer, if the
door had not opened at that moment, and if Harry had not stopped
mid-step on seeing her. "Hi."

"Is this a bad time?"

He shook his head. "No. I was just bored; I thought I'd find something
to do. D'you want to come in?" He stepped aside so that she could, and
she hesitated before taking the offer. As she sat down, he asked,
"What did you want?"

"I don't know. Just.. felt like talking to someone."

"I know how you feel. I can't stop *thinking*!"

"About B'Elanna?" The phrase sounded strange - like she was talking
about herself in the third person. Not that she was, but still, it was
strange.

"Yeah."

"I'm.. sorry. About that."

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't know we were going to be there."

"Yes, but--" She sighed. "Mierda, I don't even know *why* I'm running
from Them."

"You don't seem to know much about them at all."

"No, I, uh.... I can only remember the past two years. Most of my
life... it's just a blank. That's why I said I didn't have a home. I
just can't remember it." There was a pause while he digested this
information. "Tell me about her?" she asked finally.

He doesn't say anything for a while. He doesn't know what to say.-Or
else he's scared that if he does he'll cry. The look on his face is so
different from

(his)

my stereotype of the typical human male - arrogant, up himself, thinks
with the joystick - that I begin to wonder if there's something
terribly wrong with the world: a *nice* *guy*? I don't even know where
that stereotype came from, but he's the first guy I've met that's an
exception to it. In the last two years, at least.

"She used to be in the Maquis. Um, we met in the Ocampa Underground,
and when her ship got destroyed our two crews merged, and she became
the Chief Engineer. After about three years she and Tom started
dating, but that ended after four months or so - mainly because they
couldn't stand each other. She liked it hot, he liked it cold. And she
got mad whenever he looked at another woman. It's almost funny, 
really, because aside from Tom her longest relationship was something 
like three weeks, and she liked that guy more than Tom."

"She'll get better."

"You said yourself you weren't sure it would work."

"I think it will. She and I have the same body chemistry, after all.
Some people accept it, some reject it. Sometimes it just makes it
worse."

"Sounds like a risky cure."

"It's the only one. And anyway, they die quicker that way." Very
reassuring. "I shouldn't be saying that, should I?"

He shakes his head. "I like to know the truth. I hate being lied to
about the risks."

"Perfect. I hate lying

(to me!"  "No. You don't understand, B'El--"  "You're right, I don't.
I don't understand how you can pretend everything never happened. I
can't live with this. I can't live with *you*.")

---

I open my eyes to Sickbay. I'm aware that I'm lying on my back on one
of the biobeds - the stupid ones with the mattresses and pillows about
two centimetres thick - and that there're only three other people in
here: B'Elanna, the Doctor, and Harry. The latterest latter is sitting
by the bed, asleep. He doesn't notice I'm awake. The Doctor's in his 
office working on some medical thing, and my counterpart is still
unconscious. All in all, it's a pretty damned exciting room.

I just lie here for a while before anything happens. That's when Harry
wakes up. He looks kinda cute, actually, with his hair all flopping in
his face like that. It only takes him a moment to realise I'm awake.
"How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" I prefer to know what I'm talking about before
answering questions, but from the look of minor irritation I can see
he isn't used to people like that. Of course, that emotion is soon
replaced by worry, or concern, or something.

"We were just talking, and then.. I don't know what happened. You just
fainted or something."

"I had a flashback." I sit up, and he's about to stop me, but I shoot
him a look, and he settles back down. At the movement, the Doctor
glances up and starts over with a hypospray. "I think I was arguing
with someone... we were close, I'm sure. Dating. Before the fight, at
least. I told him exactly what I thought about... something. I don't 
know."

"I see you're perfectly fine, Ms. Torres," the Doctor says dryly.
Hologram voice. He administers the hypo. "You'll be alright to leave
after half an hour, but I wouldn't try anything dangerous for now." He
chuckles as if he'd made a joke. "Call me if you need anything."

When he leaves

(me here, alone)

, I try not to laugh, giving Harry a pained look. "I'm glad I'm not
here for longer than half an hour."

He grins back, but I don't get to hear a reply, as the PA system goes
off. "All senior officers report to the bridge."

"That's me. I'll come see you later." As he heads for the door, he
hesitates by B'Elanna's bed to brush a lock of hair from her forehead 
before walking through the exit.

---

B'Elanna, as it turned out, didn't have to wait so long before
escaping the confines of Sickbay. Fifteen minutes after the PA call,
she was on her way to the conference room. Like so much else in her
life, she had no idea what was happening - the only clue was Janeway's
summons. "Report to the conference room immediately," she'd told her
over the EMH channel.

She hadn't yet met all the senior staff, so when she arrived Kathryn
introduced them to her - Chakotay and Tom were the only ones she
hadn't spoken to, although she had seen Tom on the surface. But there
was also another unfamiliar face in the room, a human male, taller
then her by a few inches, with dark hair and a strong build. He was no
stranger to gyms and heavy work-out sessions.

After the rest of the staff left, she was told to sit, which she did
so with no minor amount of confusion. "Do you remember this man?"
Kathryn asked her. B'Elanna only shook her head. "Mack Daamen.
Apparently, he's been trying to find you for two years. Ever since you
lost your memory, I believe." She hesitated. "You don't know what I'm
talking about, do you?"

"Not a clue."

"It seems you misunderstood the intentions of your pursuers. They were
ordered to find you and bring you back because this man is your
husband."

She stared first at Kathryn, then at the man who she was supposed to
have given her heart to. "No... I don't remember."

Mack sat down opposite her and leaned across the table. "B'Elanna, you 
can't mean that. I know we had some fights, but I do love you. You
*have* to remember!"

I can't sit here and look at this desperate man in front of me. I
don't know who he is. I can't remember ever being married to him. I
can't even remember who *I* am sometimes.

I shake my head slowly. "I'm sorry. I don't."

He sighs, shakes his own head. "Come back with me? There must be some
way-- even if there isn't, I'll make you remember. I'll tell you
everything. Please?"

I look at Kathryn. She looks back. "It's your choice. I can't decide
for you."

"I'll think about it," I say. "Just a day. Or two. I don't know." I
get up to leave, half-expecting him to try to stop me. He doesn't, and
I walk the rest of the way to my quarters alone.

---

I don't even know why it's so hard to decide. I suppose it could be
because at least I know a little about them here. Mostly Harry. But I
don't know who he is. Mack Daamen. It doesn't mean a thing to me.

I have a good strong coffee in my hands when the door chime goes.
"Come in," I call. I know who it is, I think. Either Harry or Mack.

It's the latter. I put my coffee on the low table in front of the
couch and sit down; he does the same. "I should let you think, I
know," he says, "but it's been two years. I miss you."

I stare at the coffee mug. "Mack

(don't)

..."

"I just want to talk."

"What about?"

"Anything. Where have you *been* the last two years?"

"Running away from you, apparently." I smile slightly, and he grins
back. I can see the physical attraction, at least. He looks great.
"Not much. Just keeping moving."

"Playing hard to get. I wouldn't've found you if those Guards hadn't
been so incompetent. They were there for a completely different
reason, but had heard I was looking for you. They mistakening assumed
I wanted you dead, which was why they shot your counterpart."

"Who are the Guards?"

"Oh; sorry. They're the Royal Guard of my - our - fleet. The strongest
force in the quadrant."

"Really."

"Mmmhmm. We gave up trying to get home after a few months, and
wandered round building up a fleet instead. At the moment, we have
forty seven ships, two permanent colonies and another planet."

"Sounds like a miniture Federation."

"Federation?"

"We don't have the Federation?"

"No. What is it?"

"Back in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, Earth, Vulcan and a hundred and
fifty or so other planets joined up to make the Federation. There's
also an organisation called Starfleet, which is the military -- it's
run by the Federation."

"In our universe the only real equivalent is the Union. That's Earth,
Vulcan and Kronos."

"The Vulcans and the Klingons? Interesting combination."

He laughs. "It seems to work. Although the kids look a little
strange."

"Half-Vulcan half-Klingon. And I thought human-Klingon was strange."

"No, that's rather common. Although half-Klingons are a lot more
beautiful than any other race." He leans down toward me slightly,
hesitates, and kisses me.

And then I understand.

---

(Harry was slumped on the floor of the cell, either dead or
unconscious. B'Elanna couldn't tell through the fibreglass window
seperating them. The cell was white - whiter than Sickbay, whiter even
than his paled skin. It was a sharp contrast to the raven hair that
fell over his face, no longer under the constraint of hair gel.

She should have heard the footsteps coming up behind her; but she
didn't until Mack held her arms in his strong grasp. "I hope you like
my little museum."

She struggled to break away, but he was too strong. "Don't touch me,"
she bit. "You don't deserve a single-celled amoeba!"

"Harsh words."

"You *killed* them. Don't expect any better."

"Didn't kill *him*. And I won't. If you marry me."

"*Never*."

"Then he'll burn alive." He started to turn, and in that split second
she made her decision.

"Wait. Don't kill him.")

---

(The next day - the day after the dreaded wedding night - when she
went to visit him his skin was no longer pale. Instead it was
blackened, like everyone else's she'd seen. **Everyone here is dead or
dying, burning, like meat on a barbecue, blackened skin flaking and
tough,** she realised. Because he wasn't dead yet. He was *awake*,
even, totally aware that he was about to die. "I'm sorry," she 
whispered.)

---

She jerked away from him suddenly, just as his lips touched hers,
breathing heavily. He saw realisation in her eyes. "You killed them,"
she said quietly. She stood up, backed away, trying to head for the
door, but he cut her off, springing from the couch quicker than a
jack-in-the-box. "Don't *touch* me, Mack!"

"I'll do whatever the hell I like. We're married, remember?"

She did. Oh, mierda, she did. Remembered how he'd practically forced
her to agree, using Harry as a bargaining chip, remembered that the
events afterward almost amounted to rape. And then he'd killed Harry
anyway. Remembered, also, how Harry had tried to speak to her, but
that his throat had been fried and raspy. He couldn't get anything
out. He'd died trying. "You broke your side of the bargain. As far as 
I'm concerned, we aren't married and never were. Get out before I call 
Security."

"If you do, everyone on this puny little ship will die, and Voyager
will join *my* fleet. It will be your fault, B'Elanna."

"Yes, that's how you always get things, isn't it? Either kill the
current residents or force them into slavery. You can keep your little
fleet. I don't want anything to do with it or you."

"Fine. And the first person I kill will be that Operations officer.
What's his name, the puppy. You always had a thing for puppies, didn't
you?"

"Don't you touch Harry!"

He lifted his hands in mock fear. "Fiesty. What's the matter, don't
want me to hurt your little puppy?" He took her arms roughly, and like
the day two years ago, she struggled in vain.

He punched her, a blow that would have sent her halfway across the
room had he not been holding her so tightly. For a moment she felt
nothing, then pain seared across her jaw. She tried to yank her hands
free, then kicked him. He grimaced slightly, then grinned. "Oh, come
on; I'm no puppy. Don't you remember?" He kissed her again, biting her
back when she tried, enjoying the coppery taste of her blood, and 
yanked the zip of her jacket top down so hard it dug into the back of 
her neck. Shoving her against the wall, he forced his knee between her 
legs and pulled off the jacket, pulling apart the oldfashioned stick-
grip of her shirt at the same time, a feat he'd learned through 
practice.

Without dwelling on the details, B'Elanna struggled as best she could
while her mind went AWOL and he tried to make her respond to him
properly. *That* at least, he had no control over, as her mind didn't
really want to stick around for a repeat of the wedding night. So she
hardly felt the pain as he drove into her, deliberately forcing
himself against her sensitive spots.

Finally, it seemed to be over, and her mind drifted back, told her to
go get a new costume, and then imagine she was ripping his head off.

The door swished shut while she was in the bedroom and she stood
still, listening, to see if he had really gone. If he hadn't, he was
being very quiet. She let herself slide to the floor and curled up in
a small ball.

---

The door chime had hardly rung when the door whooshed open, and Harry
glanced up ready to berate Tom, only to greet a very upset looking
B'Elanna. "What happened to you?" he asked.

"Harry.... He killed them."

"Who killed who?"

"Mack. Everyone. He said if I went to Security he'd destroy the ship."
She knew that wasn't actually what he'd said, but decided that fate
was better than anything he'd do.

"Hell." He hesitated, knowing there was something else. "What else
happened?"

She didn't look at him, instead staring out the window. For a moment
it seemed her mind had flown away at warp speed to form a new
constellation, but finally she spoke. "He raped me," she whispered.

"Hell," he said again, and hugged her.

---
EPILOGUE
---

Sickbay again. It seems my life starts and ends here, in this one
room. Once again, Harry is here too. Tuvok just left. He's taking Mack
into custody. So I have no where to go, once again.

Harry's great, though. He hasn't let go of me - I guess he's afraid if
he does I'll run off and lose my memory again. Which is of course what
happened after Mack killed *my* Harry.

That's another thing. I remember everything now. Most of what Mack
said was true, about the Union, about everything. And he meant it when
he said 'we built up a fleet'. It seems he and I mutinied and took
over the ship, the reason we 'got bored of getting home'. Something
I'm not entirely proud of. I guess I don't have to tell them
*everything*. As soon as we had a reasonable fleet, though, he showed
me his true colours. I immediately dumped him, and he had me
transferred to another ship. I went on an away mission by myself, and
when I came back the only one left was Harry. He'd gone on a shuttle
trip to investigate some spacial disturbances, and Mack had turned up
and heated the ship or something. I don't know.

He kisses me again. Harry, that is, not Mack. Yeah, I know I didn't
mention that. He's been doing a bit of that now. This time, though,
after thinking about Harry (and how Mack said he was 'my puppy') I
kiss him back. Thoroughly.

"You aren't messing round with holograms again, are you, Harry?" I
recognise the voice as my own, and pull away from Harry with a
meaningful look. *He's* explaining this, and he's got a lot of
explaining to do.

"B'Elanna, you're okay!" he exclaims.

"I can see I've missed a bit. Who's she?"

"Uh, this is your counterpart. We picked her up just after you got
shot. It's a long story."

She sits up and gives him a look I've used so much myself. I wonder
what else we have in common? "Knowing the Doc, I've got a long time
before I can get out of here. Spill."

He shrugs, and begins.

---

The End