Normally, a lone Terran walking alone - and confidently - in the streets of Ka'Hat City on Koloth's Planet - formerly known in the days of the Terran Empire as Sherman's Planet, prior to its' conquest by the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance - would risk violent, possibly fatal confrontation by the numerous Klingons thronging around. Most Terrans in the Alliance were not thought very highly of beyond their status as slaves, and few non-Terrans would bat an eyelid at the casual mistreatment of one. But then, Thomas Eugene Paris was not like most Terrans.

The Alliance had overrun the Terran Empire years before Tom Paris' birth. The Terrans, Tom's people, had once reigned supreme in known space, unchallenged, irresistable...before the Empire grew soft and weak. Before their old enemies unified and brought their order crashing down. But there had been some Terrans who, in those final days, had seenthe way the wind was blowing, and wisely switched their allegience to the galaxy's new masters, aiding them in bringing down an Empire they knewhad failed. One of those Terrans had been Tom's father, and in recognition of Owen Paris' support, the Alliance had awarded him and his family exclusion from the hardships of slavery automatically handed out to the majority of their species, permitting them relative freedom and luxury.

Because of his family's protected status, not one Klingon dared so much as sneer in Tom Paris' direction as he strode through the night. A single quick glance at his face, and symbol on his jacket breast indicating his freedom, was sufficient. Of course, such matters were far from Tom's mind tonight. This night, he was in town in search of something - or rather, someone - specific, and his search brought him to Ka'Hat's district of fleshly pleasures.

On street corners and in doorways, small groups of Klingon women clustered, offering their delightful services to passersby. Seeing them, Tom could not deny that some were attractive to his eyes. He had long been strongly drawn to female Klingons, their power and sensuality that was so intoxicating. He also, however, knew enough about Klingons to be aware that their mating practices could be somewhat...hazardous for more frail species, and he was hesitant to risk fractured ribs or broken limbs. He preferred someone with the ability to control their passions just enough...

He found the one he sought as he turned a corner. She was alone, leaning against the grimy wall of a buliding, when she turned her head and saw him, and grinned. "Somehow, I knew you'd be out tonight, Tom," she said as she started strutting over to him.

"I can never stay away from you for long, B'Elanna," Tom replied, his pulse already quickening as she closed the gap between them and laid her hands on his shoulders. Her breasts, partially revealed by the wide slit in the front of her deep-crimson leather dress, softly brushed against his chest. Her long, dark brown hair was curly and wild. The ridges on her forehead were slight compared to those of other Klingons, but that was to be expected, given her half-Terran heritage. B'Elanna's father, like Tom's own, had been a privaleged Terran...but that was all she or her mother had known of him. "How are things going for you?" Tom asked her.

B'Elanna shrugged her shoulders and responded "I'm surviving. Saving the real tough stuff for the Klingon customers, but for slightly less sturdy gentlemen, like yourself..." She gave a naughty wink.

"You know just how far to take it," Tom said with a smile. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered "I think it's time we got out of this cold street and into your cosy apartment, don't you?" Hearing this, B'Elanna's smile got bigger as she turned and led him further into the night.

The short journey to B'Elanna's home was as it always was...as was what occured once they were both safely inside. The lighting in the apartment was appropriately low as Tom stood naked looking down at B'Elanna on her bed. She lay on her back, also divulged of clothing, save for her fingerless gloves, of green leather and extending halfway to her wrists, leaving her slender fingers bare; and her boots encasing her legs up to her muscular thighs. Her breathing was eager, as were her eyes as she looked at the hardened flesh that would shortly be within her. When Tom covered her body with his own and quickly immersed his erect penis inside her, she gave a sound that was a cross between a gurgle and a growl, and gently brushed her teeth against the skin of his neck as he commenced the energetic thrusts.

Tom drank in the sight of her, adoring the way her rich hair waved as she twisted around on the bed, her forehead ridges already shining with perspiration, her body hard and yet soft, the perfect blend of Terran and Klingon. As B'Elanna wrapped her booted legs around his waist and began caressing the heaving muscles of his back with her gloved hands, the feel of the material of her gloves combined with that of her bare fingers pushed Tom to even greater heights of sexual ecstacy, and all the while they thrust against one another, the air punctuated by their gasps and grunts. The sweat was off of Tom in rivulets, mingling with B'Elanna's own, when neither could hold on anymore, and with loud cries, collapsed into a panting, spent mass. "I feel so good when this is with you," B'Elanna said softly. Tom responded by joining his lips to hers, eliciting a sensuous dancing of their tongues.

The night air was cold as Tom Paris stepped outside the apartment block into the street, but he barely noticed. Instead he took his eyes upward until they located the window of B'Elanna's apartment, and he saw her shadowed form standing there, bidding him a farewell which required no words to communicate.