Trials 02 Harry's Trial Read online

  to let her hide in her quarters. If she's going to be a woman and not

  a child, she has to learn to deal with this kind of thing herself.

  She can't come crying to you every time a man looks at her cross-

  eyed. With her looks, she'd better get used to being ogled," Torres

  said.

  "One other thing," Kim added, "Malista has the defensive moves

  down pat. She's good, but she's not aggressive enough. I mean, even

  in practice. She wouldn't come at me. She seemed to be afraid she'd

  hurt me. When I attacked her, it was the same thing. She hardly

  fought back. She pulled her punches and kicks. Maybe Natwick was

  right. Maybe my height is an issue with her."

  "Nitwit Natwick right about anything? I doubt it." Torres

  finished the last bite of her salad and got to her feet.

  Tom stood next to her. He'd lost his appetite. He wanted to

  discuss this with Chakotay to get his opinion as Malista's counselor.

  Pausing, Tom eyed Harry quizzically. "One thing I don't get, Harry.

  What has your height got to do with anything?"

  Harry felt himself flushing. "Oh, all during the lesson, Natwick

  kept making a point that she was taller than me. And taking little

  digs. He was careful not to say anything I could call him on,

  though."

  "Is she taller?" Tom hadn't thought about it.

  "She's about two inches taller."

  B'Elanna thought it was interesting he was aware of that. "So

  she's taller? So what?"

  Harry spelled it out for her. "He was implying that we were---

  romantically involved. He thought it was funny, that's all. A tall

  woman and a shorter man."

  Paris grinned at his friend sympathetically. "I don't think it's

  funny. What difference does height make?"

  B'Elanna's eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Let me tell you

  something from personal experience, Harry. I've found that tall

  people willingly bend for shorter people---if you give them

  sufficient motivation." She reached up and snagged Paris' collar and

  pulled gently. He eagerly bent his head down for her kiss.

  The crew members at the other tables hooted and cheered. Paris'

  face and ears reddened at the attention, but he was thoroughly

  enjoying himself. B'Elanna broke away from him and blew a kiss to the

  spectators before dashing out of the mess hall as quickly as she'd

  come in.

  Paris grinned after her. "What a woman!"

  Harry shook his head, grinning at his tall friend. "I think

  you're both crazy." While happy for his friends, deep down he felt a

  little envious. He stifled a sigh.

  ***********************

  Shore leave requests had been granted as soon as they were in

  orbit around Dynos Six. Half the Voyager crew was now wandering

  through the capital city's market place. B'Elanna had left the chore

  of repairing the sensor array to her trusty right hand, Lt. Joe

  Carey. She needed this shore leave, even more than she needed to

  supervise the repairs. The sensors weren't that critical while the

  ship was in orbit.

  Tom Paris, Harry Kim, B'Elanna Torres, and Malista Shadow were

  exploring the community. Trust Tom Paris to promptly find the local

  drinking and gambling establishment. He wasn't the first. At least

  ten other Voyager crew members were sampling the local cuisine---and

  the local stimulant beverage, which was not synthehol. The Delaney

  twins had bought a case of it and were having it carried out to the

  transport site. Torres commandeered an empty table.

  There was a faintly disreputable air to the tavern, its

  occupants busily playing games of chance involving heavy wagering and

  loudly discussing their bets. They ignored the newcomers. Evidently

  this city was a major trading post in the area so they were

  accustomed to seeing new species of humanoids.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Harry asked, eyeing his

  surroundings dubiously. There was a smoke-like substance in the air

  that gave a sickly-sweet smell to the place that made him feel

  slightly nauseated.

  "Sure," Tom said, bringing four drinks and setting them on the

  table.

  Shadow lifted her glass, and sniffed gingerly at the contents.

  "What is this stuff, Tom?"

  He grinned carelessly at her. "It's blue." He took a sip,

  shuddered, blinked, then stared at the glass. "Tastes sort of like---

  creme de menthe." He crossed his eyes and shook his head. "Kind of

  sweet. Strong, too." He stuck out his tongue and peered at it with

  crossed eyes. His tongue was turning blue.

  "Are you okay?" Torres asked, wishing she had a tricorder to

  check the contents of the glasses.

  Paris stopped kidding around and cleared his throat noisily.

  "This stuff---is really strong," he wheezed. "Or maybe I've just been

  drinking synthehol for too long."

  The others left their glasses untouched. A sudden burst of noise

  from the other side of the room caught Tom's attention. Several

  locals seemed to be having an argument. It was getting louder and

  gestures were being exchanged.

  "Harry, have you ever been in a bar fight?" Tom asked

  conversationally.

  "No, why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

  "Because if we don't get out of here---quickly---you're going to

  be in one," Torres replied.

  "We haven't done anything," Harry said, getting to his feet

  nonetheless. He trusted Tom's instinct for trouble. It seemed to

  follow wherever he went.

  "In a bar fight, that doesn't matter. Once it starts, everyone's

  involved," Paris remarked, shepherding his friends and as many

  Voyager crewmen as he could gather out the door. They didn't quite

  make it.

  They were nearly to the exit when the argument erupted into

  violence. Kicks, punches, bottles, and furniture were thrown across

  and around the room at random targets. Three of the Voyager crew were

  knocked to the floor when four locals stumbled back into them as they

  exchanged punches.

  Paris couldn't abandon his crewmates. He was the senior officer

  present. The captain would never forgive him. "Harry! Get Malista and

  B'Elanna out of here!" He dived back into the fray.

  Harry pushed Malista out the door and looked for B'Elanna. Too

  late. She'd plunged into the thick of battle and latched onto the arm

  of the man who was trying to bash Tom on the back of the head

  with a bottle.

  As Kim and Shadow went out the door, a drunk bumped into them in

  his rush to escape the melee, almost knocking them both to the

  ground. Sirens and whistles were sounding, drawing nearer. The local

  authorities would be here any moment.

  Harry was torn. He had to protect Malista, but he wanted to go

  back for Tom and B'Elanna. He slapped at his commbadge to report the

  situation. It wasn't there! He darted a glance at Malista. Hers was

  gone as well. That drunk! He was a thief.

  Malista was trembling with shock and fear. Was that blood on her

  forehead? "Malista! What happened?"

  Her hand went to her head and she studied the blood on her

  fingers. "A bottle
, I think. What are we going to do, Harry?" She was

  totally at a loss. She'd never been in a situation like this.

  She was injured. He had to get her safely out of this mess. It

  was up to Paris or Torres to signal for their own beam-out. "Come

  on," he said, grabbing her hand and towing her behind him. "We're

  getting out of town and staying out of sight till this blows over. I

  don't like to hang around civil disturbances after what happened on

  Akritiria."

  She followed him obediently, her expression slightly dazed. They

  passed a small house near the edge of town where the laundry was

  being air-dried on wires. The temperature was dropping. The ship's

  sensors might not be able to locate them for hours if they hadn't

  been repaired. Kim snagged a blanket off the clothesline and took it

  with them. He made for the foothills of the mountain range less than

  a kilometer out of town.

  They found a mountainside with an overhanging cliff that would

  provide some shelter from the elements. He seated Malista against the

  wall formed by the mountain. The sun was setting rapidly and the air

  was growing chilly. He gathered some wood and leaves to start a

  fire. Luckily there was enough sun left that he could use a lens to

  start a spark. Now if he just had a lens. He didn't realize he'd

  spoken aloud till his companion spoke.

  "How about a match?" She held up a small book of matches.

  "Where did you get that?" he asked curiously, taking it from her

  hand.

  "The bar---they had them on the tables. I was fiddling with

  them. I guess I just forgot to put them down." She rubbed her head.

  The bleeding had stopped. It was barely a trickle. The bottle must

  have just grazed her head.

  Harry got the fire going then inspected her forehead, taking

  care not to take her by surprise. "I don't think it's serious. You

  don't even have a bump. Yet."

  "Serious enough to give me a headache. Ouch." She groaned.

  "Without our commbadges or the sensors, Voyager can't locate us.

  The sensors were going to take several hours to repair---oh, you know

  that. You work in Maintenance. You wait here. I'm going to see if I

  can find some more wood for the fire. We may be here a while. But

  they'll be looking for us as soon as they can," Harry said, trying to

  reassure her.

  Her eyes were closed. She seemed to be asleep. Or pretending to

  be asleep.

  He left quietly to look for more wood, hoping Voyager could find

  them soon. He knew she was comfortable with Tom, but he didn't know

  how she would react to being stranded alone with him.

  ***********************

  Harry Kim tugged at the collar of his uniform as he studied the

  dark night sky. "Malista, it's going to get awfully cold here in the

  next few hours. We only have one blanket." He stopped there to see

  if she would make the inference and save him having to spell it out.

  She didn't. Her green eyes stared at him dully, almost without

  recognition.

  "We need to conserve body heat if we want to avoid tissue

  damage." There. That was as innocuously as he could phrase it.

  She shook her head slowly from side to side. "No."

  He wasn't absolutely sure she'd understood what he'd said. He

  knelt next to her, carefully out of reach so she wouldn't feel he was

  dangerous. "Malista, I know you don't like to be touched, but I'm

  talking about sleeping under the same blanket for health reasons. To

  stay warm. Nothing else. I promise. You know me. I'm Tom's friend.

  I'm your friend. I wouldn't hurt you."

  She rubbed her forehead with one hand. "My head hurts," She

  moaned, like a tired child.

  "I know. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it. Why don't

  you lie down first? I'll cover you with the blanket and build up the

  fire as much as possible. Then I'll get under the blanket and we'll

  go to sleep. Tomorrow, Voyager will locate us and beam us aboard and

  we'll get you to Sickbay so the doctor can treat you." Harry spoke

  soothingly. She did as he asked. He made her as comfortable as

  possible, then stacked more wood near the fire.

  He probably wouldn't get much sleep tonight. He'd be adding wood

  to the fire every few hours. The indications were that the weather

  might get down to freezing. At least they were partly sheltered by

  the overhanging cliff. With the mountain on one side and the fire on

  the other, they should be able to stay relatively warm. He stacked

  the pieces of wood within easy reach, then raised the side of the

  blanket.

  Her eyes were closed and she didn't react as he slid down on the

  ground next to her. He tucked the blanket around them both, carefully

  refraining from touching her or drawing her attention to the

  situation.

  He turned on his side, facing away from her so they were back to

  back. It wasn't as warm as it could have been, but it was better than

  sitting in the night air without a blanket. The exhausting pace

  they'd set that day was catching up with him. He pillowed his head on

  his forearm and drew a deep breath. Before he could remember taking

  another, he was sound asleep himself.

  It might have been two hours later when Harry awoke. The fire

  had burned down almost to embers, but the cold wasn't what awakened

  him. It was the warmth.

  Sometime as they slept, he had turned to face the same direction as

  Malista and they had both moved closer to the center of the blanket.

  They were sleeping spooned together, Harry's arm draped over and

  clutching her waist, his hand cupping her breast, her bottom cradled

  by his legs. It was unfortunate that his body didn't recognize the

  situation or the person involved. All his body knew was that it was

  reacting to stimuli in a natural manner.

  Harry knew this was---not good. He lifted his hand and arm off

  of her body and tried to ease his hips back away from Malista without

  waking her. He knew he'd failed when she suddenly went rigid. She was

  awake---and aware.

  He froze, glad she wasn't screaming. "Malista, it's okay. I'm

  sorry. Just ignore---" What a stupid thing to say! "I'm sorry.

  Listen, I'll just turn over---"

  Before he could finish what he was saying, she had pulled away

  from him and surged to her feet. She ran to the other side of the

  fire and stood there staring at him as if he'd grown fangs. Her

  eyes were blank, as if she wasn't completely awake and aware of his

  identity. She was beginning to shake as her body rapidly cooled

  in the chilly night air. He got to his knees, holding the blanket in

  front of him as an offering. "Malista, you're going to freeze.

  Here, take the blanket."

  It was all he could think to say. His apologies had only seemed

  to make things worse. Between the cold air and her panic reaction,

  his body rapidly lost interest, so his mind was clearing. He was

  afraid she'd run away. Or worse, try to hurt him or herself.

  "Why didn't the Academy give some practical lessons on dealing

  with this kind of thing? Lesson 1001, How to Share a Bed Platonical
ly

  with a Member of the Opposite Sex," he muttered, hardly aware he spoke

  aloud till he saw her eyes round in amazement.

  "What did you say?" She asked, her eyes clearly focused on him

  now. She seemed to recognize him and the fear was quickly fading from

  her expression and posture. She couldn't believe what she thought

  she'd heard. It wasn't anything like what she'd expected him to say.

  It threw her off balance and sharpened her concentration on his

  words.

  He gave her a rueful half smile, feeling the blood rushing to

  his face. "I'm sorry, Malista. The Academy didn't cover this

  situation in the wilderness survival course. Really, I wasn't going

  to---I was asleep! Can a man be held accountable for what his body

  does when he's asleep?" He tentatively smiled, trying a joke to ease

  the tension. It was a lesson he'd learned from Tom Paris.

  If he'd moved toward her, she probably would have run screaming

  into the night. His quiet, apologetic manner, and that touch of humor

  comforted her. He hadn't turned into a vicious stranger---he was

  still Harry Kim, Tom Paris' best friend. Tom trusted him. She could

  trust him too. He wouldn't hurt her.

  "Maybe," she croaked hoarsely, still tired and feeling even more

  exhausted as the adrenaline rush caused by fear wore off. She cleared

  her throat and tried again, tentatively. "Maybe we should sleep

  sitting up?" She came back around to the sheltered side of the fire.

  Her teeth were chattering.

  Harry stood and warily wrapped the blanket around her, making

  sure she had a clear view of him so he wouldn't catch her by

  surprise. "That's a good idea. Come sit with your back against the

  mountain and I'll build the fire back up."

  He was shivering himself by the time he'd refueled the fire with

  sticks. He turned his head so he could see her with his peripheral

  vision. She was watching him. When she caught his eye, she held up

  the corner of the blanket in invitation.

  He hesitated.

  "Ensign Kim---Harry," she amended. "I'm sorry. I overreacted.

  Please, come sit with me. You were right before. We do need to share-

  --body heat."

  He wished she hadn't said that. The mental image he got was not

  conducive to a platonic cuddle under the blanket. Cautioning himself

  to think of cold showers or something similar, he eased himself down