"Yes, sir." Carey’s voice was slightly muffled by three feet of Jefferies Tube. "How’s that?"

"It’s still not working! Just a minute." She thumped the side of her console. The readings flickered then settled a full two percent lower than before. B’Elanna growled again. "Dammit! Computer, what the hell is wrong with the *fucking* warp core?!"

"Unable to comply. That data is not currently available."

"_Chingate_," Torres muttered savagely, resorting to Spanish as she ripped open a circuitry panel. ‘Go fuck yourself’ just didn’t have the same ring to it in English.

"Unable to comply. This vessel does not currently possess that capability."

"Shut *up*!" B’Elanna exclaimed. "_Mierda chingada_, why do these things always have to take you so fucking literally?"

"Ah… Lieutenant…"

She sighed and put a hand over her eyes. "What is it, Carey?"

"There’s something here I think you should see…"

Torres crawled into the Jefferies Tube to have a look at whatever Carey had found, and a few moments later another stream of curses flowed into Main Engineering.

=/\=

"It’s the _pendejo_ gelpacks *again*," she told Chakotay over her commbadge, glaring at the offending equipment as she spoke. "So far it’s just one of them, but there’s no way I can get the warp core back up to full efficiency without finding out what the hell went wrong with the _hijoputa maldito_."

A sigh came over the commline. "All right. Replace the gelpack; take it to Sickbay and let the Doctor look at it. I’ll tell the captain."

B’Elanna winced in sympathy and nodded, as if he could see her. "Okay. Torres out."

She reached out to disconnect the gelpack from the surrounding circuitry, and jerked back as it exploded, spraying goo all over her. "_*Chingate*_!" she snarled angrily. "_Y chinga_--"

"Unable to comply," the computer interrupted smoothly. "This vessel does not currently possess that capability."

"Shut. Up," she gritted out, and began gathering the remains of the gelpack to take to Sickbay.

=/\=

"What the hell is wrong *now*?" she demanded, storming into Engineering much later that night. It might even have been the next morning; she hadn’t gotten enough sleep to be sure.

"Uh, the warp core’s offline again," Carey ventured.

"We replaced the _pendejo_ gelpack; why the hell is it doing that? Never mind." She shook her head and stalked to the main console. "Computer, run an analysis on all gelpacks connected to warp core functions."

"Unable to comply. Self-diagnostic routines are offline."

"Fuck you!" B’Elanna thumped the console angrily.

"Unable to comply. This vessel does not currently possess that capability."

She growled deep in her throat and started to walk across Engineering, only to find Tom Paris in her way, smiling genially.

"Whatever the hell it is you want, Paris, I’m not in the fucking mood," she snarled, pushing past him.

He followed her. "I appreciate the double entendre," he started, and was met with another growl, "but since Helm’s basically offline until the warp core’s fixed, I thought I could lend a hand."

Torres stopped and whirled to face him. "Don’t tell me that _chingado_ impulse is offline, *too*!"

"No, no," he said hastily. "The captain just thought you could use a little extra help down here. I must say, B’Elanna, I’m impressed. You could swear the nuts off a horny Orion - but I always figured you for a Klingon cursing kinda gal."

She gave him a contemptuous look. "Paris. I’ve spent my whole bloody life trying to forget I was half-fucking-Klingon. Why the *hell* would I want to fucking *swear* in Klingon?"

"You have a point there," Paris said brightly.

She growled again and continued on her path across Engineering. "Computer, what’s wrong with the self-diagnostic systems?"

"Unable to comply. Self-diagnostic routines are offline."

"Oh, *fuck* you," she snarled furiously.

"Unable to comply. This vessel does not currently possess that capability."

"Shut--" B’Elanna stopped suddenly. She took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. "I think I know what the problem is. Carey, I’ll be in my office."

She pushed past Paris again, and into her office.

=/\=

That had to be it. If the _maldito_ warp core didn’t work now, she was going to… Well, whatever she was going to do, no one would like it. And, of course, any unexpected bonuses the adjusted systems provided were just that. Sure.

"All right," she announced, walking out of her office. "Computer, status of the warp core?"

"Warp core is currently offline."

"*Fuck* you!" she snarled angrily, thumping the nearest thumpable object.

"Acknowledged," the computer said smoothly.

Well, at least *that* part of it was working…