"I'm sick of it! Just sick of it!" B'Elanna Torres yelled to no one in particular as she stalked out of engineering and into the corridors of Voyager.
The doors swished shut behind her and then reopened as Tom Paris ran after her calling, "B'Elanna! Hey, B'Elanna, wait!" He put his hand on her shoulder and tried to get her to slow her pace but instead she stopped suddenly and whirled around.
"No, Tom. I've *really had it. I am sick of Carey, I am sick of Neelix, and I am sick, sick, SICK of being on this ship twenty-four hours a day." Her body shook with the force of each word.
"I know," Tom sighed. He was beginning to feel the frustration of seeing the same faces every single day, every hour of the day as well as hearing the same mechanical hums, the same orders and commands filter through his ears constantly. "We could all use some off time, not only from our duties but from our 'starfleet' personalities."
B'Elanna leaned back against the wall with a thud, her shoulders sagging slightly, "It's been *four months since we've had a shoreleave. Every system we've encountered lately has been overpopulated with Demon Class Planets, Spacial Anomalies, Temporal Fluxations or Hostile Aliens. There's no winning . . . . I might as well throw myself into the warp core."
"Uh, let's not go that far, okay?" Tom pulled her gently towards him and encircled her waist with his arms. "I think I would miss you too much."
"I'm sure you'd miss Jenny and Megan Delaney more," she snapped.
"Janeway to Paris," the combadge chirped, interrupting the couple.
"Paris here," he sighed and tried to hold onto B'Elanna but failed. He watched her once again angrily stalk off down the corridors towards her quarters.
"You're needed on the bridge," The Captain informed him.
"On my way," he stated and went towards the turbolift that was, unfortunately enough, in the opposite direction of where B'Elanna was headed.
"So, Captain," Chakotay leaned towards Kathryn's seat and hoped to engage her in a quick conversation with the time that was left of their shift. He was still adjusting to life as 'The Commander' and his Captain was a hard one to get to know. "Only three minutes until 'the changing of the guards.'"
"Thank God for that, Commander," she sighed and shook her head. "My report for the day will read 'space, space and more space'," she gave a small laugh but quickly shook her head as Chakotay gave her a look that said he didn't believe her. "You know me too well, Commander," she said offhandedly.
"So what do you have planned for tonight?" He asked casually trying not to scoff at the idea of 'knowing her well' and was interrupted by a little beeping on his PADD.
Kathryn watched and waited for him to finish before his attention was returned to her and she continued, "What I always do Commander: read reports, eat dinner, read more reports, chastise B'Elanna for breaking Carey's nose again, use up my replicator rations on coffee, dodge the Doctor, etc. etc. etc. Am I boring you to tears? Well good, that's how I feel." She hadn't meant to let that slip out but another day of consistency was, for once, going to kill her.
Chakotay laughed though, and offered an alternative, "How about you join myself and some of the senior crew for dinner in the mess hall? 20:00 hours?"
The doors to the bridge slid open with the night crew and Kathryn stood beside Chakotay, shaking out the tension from her shoulders and said, "Alright, a change of pace just might work. Besides I'm looking for a relaxing atmosphere."
"Great," Chakotay said, a newly formed cheery smile on his face.
CONTINUED IN PART 2!
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