Day of Honor - Michael Jan Friedman [22]
it did.
Vorik worked with a sense of urgency B'Elanna had seldom seen in a being of any species. A moment later, the stream of plasma coolant began to decrease noticeably in volume.
"That's better," B'Elanna cried out. "Close it down completely."
Vorik worked some more. The jet of escaping gas diminished by degrees, until it stopped altogether. Silence reigned in engineering, punctuated only by the subtle throbbing of the warp core.
B'Elanna took a deep breath. Another crisis averted, she thought. She glanced at Vorik, who was still standing over his console.
"Good work, Ensign."
The Vulcan met her gaze. "Perhaps it would be advisable to reconfigure the coolant assembly. That would give us greater control over pressure valve emissions in the future."
B'Elanna felt herself sagging a little. "Vorik," she said, "you're probably right. And tomorrow we can do it first thing. But not today."
The Vulcan looked puzzled. She didn't blame him.
"I do not understand," he said. "Why wait until tomorrow when it would be to our advantage to start-"
"Not today," B'Elanna barked, surprising even herself with the ferocity in her voice.
Vorik lifted an eyebrow at her vehemence. But wisely, he didn't question her judgment.
"As you wish," he replied.
Then he turned and moved toward a more distant workstation. B'Elanna watched him go, more than a little angry with herself. Vorik had deserved better from his superior officer-especially after he'd come through for her in the clutch.
But before she could go after the Vulcan, she saw Tom enter engineering. He had a padd in his hands.
And he was more cheerful than usual, though the reason for it wasn't readily apparent.
"Good morning," he said. "Here's the conn evaluation you wanted."
B'Elanna regarded him. "Thanks."
Tom took note of her sullen mood. Sensing something was awry, he looked around and noted the hole in the coolant conduit. Then he sniffed the ozone in the air. His nose wrinkled.
"Something happen in here?" he inquired.
"Don't ask," she told him.
Tom chuckled. "But-"
"I said don't ask."
The flight controller regarded her for a moment. When he spoke again, it was with a bit more care. "We still on for dinner tonight?"
B'Elanna frowned and looked away. "I don't know. I may have to work." She shrugged. "I'll let you know."
Tom nodded. "Okay. . ." He hesitated, obviously not sure whether to raise the next subject or not. "And have you decided If you're, uh, going through with it? The Day of Honor program, I mean?"
She turned on him. "I have-and I'm not. This has started out to be a lousy day and the last thing I need is to get involved with some obscure Klingon ritual. Okay?"
He held his hand up as if in self-defense. "Hey, it's all the same to me. You were the one who suggested it."
"I know," the engineer said. "And for one sentimental minute, I thought I might go through with it. But not anymore."
Tom cracked a smile. "Of course not. Wouldn't want to get too sentimental, would we?"
B'Elanna realized that she was being unfair with him-just as she had been unfair with Vorik a moment earlier.
"Look, she said, "it hasn't exactly been the most pleasant morning of my life. First, I overslept because I forgot to tell the computer to wake me. Then the acoustic inverter in my sonic shower blew out."
Tom cringed. "That'll make your hair stand on end."
"So I didn't have time for breakfast," B'Elanna went on. "And when I got here, two people were out sick and I had to cancel the fuel-cell overhaul, and then an injector burst for no reason at all and started spewing plasma coolant over everything."
Tom grunted. "That's a run of bad luck, all right."
"So I'm in a bad mood," she told him. "And I know I'm being a little testy, and I apologize in advance ...
but I'm not very good company right now."
He didn't try to talk her out of her mood. He just smiled affably and headed for the door.
"It's okay," Tom said. "Think about that dinner…"
But he looked back at her for a moment. And when he did, their eyes locked, and B'Elanna found herself grateful