Just Between Right & Wrong 
G. L. Dartt

 
Rubbing her gritty eyes irritably with her forefinger and thumb, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager took a deep breath, then looked toward the front of the bridge where Lt. Tom Paris was covering the helm. Beyond him, the large viewscreen stretching across the bulkhead revealed the image of thick dust, and glowing radiation of the nebula, in which the vessel was currently hiding. Beyond that, though she couldn't see them, she knew the dark ships of the V'Elanon Empire cruised, searching for the Federation vessel.
"Tactical," she requested quietly.
"The V'Elanon ships are maintaining position," her chief of security responded evenly. The glare of the yellow alert lights gave his Vulcan features a sallow tint, while his angled eyebrows and pointed ears added to the faintly demonic look. "Their weapons remain fully charged."
She glanced over at her executive officer, Commander Chakotay. A handsome bear of a man, he rubbed the tattoo over his left eye with the back of his thumb, an unconscious gesture of concern. He returned her look with dark eyes, and shook his head.
"Apparently hiding is not the answer," he offered.  "They don't seem to be giving up."
"Not in this case," she agreed, frowning as she saw the flicker of phaser fire suddenly streak through the obscuring clouds.
"They're firing, Captain," Lt. Harry Kim reported, rather unnecessarily from his aft operations station. "But I think it was only an attempt to flush us out."
"They don't know where we are, they're just trying to get lucky," Paris added. His boyish face turned to look at the captain. "I think we can outrun them."
Janeway considered that. "If you're wrong," she reminded him, "we'll be in a great deal of trouble. They outnumber us five to one, and all they need is one lucky shot to disable us. The rest would then move in and pick us to pieces." She glanced back at Harry. "What's the status on those shields?"
"Seven says that they're still at fifty-six percent," he replied. Young, with the greenness of Starfleet Academy still clinging to him on occasion, his dark eyes were concerned. "Lt. Torres just reported that the repairs are proceeding quickly, but her team still needs an hour."
Janeway raised an eyebrow. "Then, we'll stay here another hour."
She realized this game of cat and mouse was trying on her crew, but sometimes one had to be aware of one's limitations. Voyager was a fine ship, it's technology far advanced when compared to most of the civilizations they had encountered during the previous five years in the Delta Quadrant, but it was still alone out here, with nothing to rely on but the strength of her crew, and the wits of her captain.
If only her captain's wits felt a little clearer at the moment, Janeway thought wryly.
She had been on duty for thirty-two hours straight, ever since they had entered the V'Elanon Empire. At first, they had been hopeful they would be able to pass through this space unmolested, but it hadn't taken long to realize the natives were not friendly. It was just a shame Voyager had gotten so far into their space before their intentions were clear. This nebula had been close by, emitting enough radiation to cover their warp signature, and conceal them from the V'Elanon but not so much that their shields couldn't handle it. It was the only thing that saved them after being damaged in the unexpected ambush.
She leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to appear relaxed even though the palms of her hands, which rested on the arms of her command chair, were slippery with sweat. She hated waiting, hated this passive strategy, but it was the best for all concerned. Federation protocols dictated that she not interfere with the development of a culture, and though she had been forced to bend and stretch Starfleet protocols over the past five years, she tried not to disobey them when she didn't have to. It was likely that Voyager's weapons could easily handle the highly maneuverable, but less powerful ships out there, but if Seven could finish modifying the shields, they wouldn't have to fight.
Avoiding a conflict was just as good a solution, she told herself sternly, though a part of her absolutely hated the idea of Voyager running like a dog with its tail between its legs.
"Seven to the bridge."
"Go ahead," Janeway said quickly, before anyone else could answer.
"I have finished the modifications to the shields," Seven of Nine said in her cool, even tone. "They are now impenetrable to V'Elanon weapons."
"Good work, Seven," Janeway said warmly, and altered the comm channel. "Bridge to Engineering. What's your status, B'Elanna?"
"The hull breech on deck nine is sealed," came the quick reply. "We're still working on deck eight."
"How much longer?" Janeway asked. She had a mental image of her chief engineer who would be working right there with her crew. The Klingon/Human hybrid never asked of her people anything she would not do herself, no matter how dirty the job. Hull breaches required hard manual labor, needing a careful touch with the laser torch. It was hot and dangerous work, but B'Elanna was the best engineer Janeway had ever known ... high praise coming from someone who was no slouch in that department herself.
"Twenty minutes," B'Elanna promised.
Janeway chafed at the delay, but knew that it would defeat the purpose to move before they were ready. "Understood."
She rubbed her hands surreptitiously on her trousers, and glanced around the bridge. Paris continued to run course corrections in his board, plotting out the fastest and safest way to the edge of V'Elanon space, his shoulders tense as he worked. Tuvok, on the other hand, appeared no different than he did when the ship was traveling unchallenged through unclaimed space.
Janeway wished she possessed a little of that Vulcan calm at times. As it was, experience allowed her to look cool and collected, even though what she really wanted to do was leap up and pace about the bridge like a caged animal. That would hardly do Harry Kim any good, she thought with an internal grin. She knew that he was tapping his fingers on the operations console, hearing the faint tattoo of the flesh against the metal from somewhere behind her.
Chakotay leaned over, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear. "Are we going to fire back?"
"Only if they leave us no other choice," she replied softly.
She rested her chin on her forefinger and thumb, eyes dark as she regarded the viewscreen, irritated by these aliens who was making her life so difficult at the moment. The soft hiss of the door heralded the arrival of someone from the turbolift, and she glanced back to see the tall, curvaceous form of her astrometrics officer enter the bridge.
Seven of Nine took a position on the elevated area just behind the command chairs, accessing the auxiliary tactical station. There, she could access data from both main tactical and operations in the event one or both officers went down. Janeway wished the station was to the front of the bridge rather than aft. She would much rather be looking at Seven than the thick, pinkish clouds of the nebula on the screen. But she was very aware of the Borg's presence, not having to glance over her shoulder to know those ice blue eyes were tracing over her when they weren't concentrating on the data readouts.
There was an escalating tension on the bridge as they continued to wait for Engineering to complete their repairs. When the call finally came in, it was like being released from imprisonment.
"Torres to Bridge. Hull integrity at one hundred percent."
Janeway stood up. "Red Alert," she snapped, the illumination growing darker, washing over her with a crimson hue. "Get us out of here, Tom. Warp six."
She sat down abruptly as the ship leaped forward, the acceleration pressing her back in her seat, and she hoped no one had noticed. She shouldn't have stood up, she thought idly as she gripped the arms of her command chair. She was lucky she hadn't landed her ass on the hard deck plates, instead of the supportive cushion of her chair.
She took an instant to glance back. Seven seemed oblivious to the motion of the ship as Paris threw it into a series of maneuvers designed to throw off the V'Elanon, and Janeway stifled a flash of envy. Nothing ever seemed to bother the young woman much. At least, not externally.
"Captain, the V'Elanon are firing," Tuvok reported.
Janeway felt the shudder as the ship was struck by the energy beams, but unlike before, there was none of the savage jolting  the previous attack had subjected them to, the shots puncturing the hull with stunning force.
"Shields are holding," Seven reported without pride, even though it had been her abilities that had modified them. Once a drone with the Borg Collective, Seven retained much of the technological knowledge she had assimilated. It continued to serve Voyager well now that she was a member of its crew.
"Warp six," Paris offered, finally having broke free of the blockade which surrounded them, and accelerating steadily. "We're pulling away."
"The V'Elanon are falling back," Tuvok said after several moments.
"Approaching the edge of V'Elanon space," Harry added.
"The V'Elanon have broken off pursuit," Tuvok concluded.
Janeway glanced at Chakotay who grinned. "Sometimes the bear gets you," he said. "But sometimes you get the bear."
"Or at least, avoid tangling with him," she agreed. She turned her head forward. "Good work, people. Tom, maintain a course that leaves us well clear of V'Elanon space."
"Aye, captain," he replied.
She took a breath and stood up. Her eyes briefly intersected with Seven's and absurdly, she felt herself flush. I'm tired, she thought. She nodded at Chakotay. 
"You have the bridge," she said. "Maintain our heading to the Alpha Quadrant."
It was more a formality designed to turn over the conn to him, rather than an actual order, but he nodded anyway. "Aye." He raised an eyebrow. "Pleasant dreams."
She grinned at the impudence of it. She knew she must look like hell but still, he shouldn't assume she was going straight to bed ... even if she was.
"Don't wait too long yourself," she reminded him pointedly. After all, he had been up just as long as she had.
"In a while," he promised, and turned to his console to log his report.
She left the bridge and entered the turbolift, unsurprised when she was joined by her astrometrics officer.
"Are you going to bed now?" Seven asked.
"If I can make it that far," Janeway admitted. Now that the excitement was over, she felt exhaustion seep over her like a damp woolen cloak. She would have swayed, but for Seven's hand suddenly gripping her shoulder. It was a effrontery not allowed most crewmembers with their captain, but then, Seven of Nine was not most crewmembers. For a few precious seconds, Janeway leaned into it gratefully, then straightened as the turbolift doors slid open.
"I must finish in astrometrics," Seven said then. "I will not be long."
Janeway nodded briefly, and exited the turbolift, heading for her quarters. There, she was met by Jake, an Irish Setter puppy, who for some reason, seemed to sense that she would not appreciate his normally boisterous greeting, and instead, sat down in front of her, panting happily.
She smiled as she patted his head.
"Good pup," she praised him. "Have you been fed?"
Just to be sure, she retrieved his dish and replicated a generous amount of mixed dry and moist puppy chow for him. She sat it down in his area just outside the bedroom door, before going into the room containing a queen-sized bed. She was too tired to do anything beyond stripping off her uniform, and crawling between the smooth sheets, curling around a pillow which she clutched to herself. She fell asleep almost immediately, and was not consciously aware of the warm body which joined her an hour later, though somehow, she rolled over and clutched that instead.
 
Seven of Nine woke to the warmth and familiar weight of her partner slumbering peacefully on top of her. She tried not to gasp for breath as she wrapped her arms around the captain, easing them over until they were laying on their sides, and Seven could once again breathe easily. Janeway stirred briefly, though only to snuggle closer, draping her arm and leg over Seven with possessive affection. Seven rested her chin on the auburn hair, and closed her eyes. She required much less sleep than Janeway, thanks to her Borg enhancements, but it was still nice to doze in this cozy, warm place. 
Even though it wasn't quite the same.
Seven felt a lump in her throat. Though she and the captain had shared a deeply personal relationship for several months, a recent explosion had left Janeway with a loss of memory stretching back three years. They had slowly began rebuilding their bond as Janeway got to know Seven again, but they had yet to resume their former physical intimacy, though they still shared a bed. Perhaps it was time to become lovers again, Seven thought. If only she could be sure of Kathryn's feelings, be sure that the captain loved her as she had before.
She felt lips suddenly moving over her jaw, along the underside of her chin, and despite her uncertainty, she smiled faintly. "Good morning," she said quietly.
A soft, throaty laugh caressed her ears. "More like good afternoon," Janeway responded.
The captain's weight eased back on top of Seven, and the generous mouth covered the younger woman's with a tender intensity. Seven kissed her back, enjoying the taste and sensation of Janeway's mouth on hers, but was careful not to make it too passionate. She reached up with gentle fingertips to touch the captain's cheek, and Janeway took that as invitation to deepen the kiss.
"Do you know how very beautiful you are," the captain murmured against her lips once they parted.
"Beauty is irrelevant," Seven responded automatically, then gentled her voice. "I am glad that you think I am."
"I do," Janeway whispered. She slipped her hand under the Starfleet issued gray pyjamas Seven wore, fingers dancing over the Borg's stomach, then along her rib cage. Seven shifted so that the fingers could not reach her breasts, and Janeway hesitated as she felt the resistance. "Annika?"
"I ... I am unsure this is the right time," Seven said quietly.
Janeway considered that, hands motionless against her though Seven still felt the warmth of her fingers against her skin, making her tingle. "Do you still have doubts, darling?" Janeway asked quietly. "Don't you know how I feel about you?"
"I know you care for me," Seven said hesitantly.
Janeway took a breath and withdrew, pulling away until she was lying on her side, no longer touching Seven. Seven closed her eyes, not wanting to look at her partner, not wanting to see the disappointment and irritation in the blue-grey eyes.
"I may never feel exactly the same as I did, Annika," Janeway said softly. "But I do love you. I've told you that."
Seven swallowed. "I want to believe it."
There was a pause. "But you don't," Janeway said coolly.
She rolled out of bed and left Seven laying there, feeling wretched and wishing she knew why she was so uncertain ... so afraid. She was terrified that if they moved too quickly that this fragile bond forming between them would somehow be lost, but she did not know how to explain it to Kathryn, and as a result, the captain was becoming progressively impatient with her. Perhaps I should just make love with her, Seven thought miserably. And progress from there.
She could hear the muted sound of the shower, knowing that Janeway was beginning her day, and with a sigh, she slipped out of bed. She donned a sedate, silver robe, and moved out to the living area where Jake ambled over to meet her, his tail wagging so hard, his whole hindquarters swayed. She reached down with her right hand, and patted him, then made her way over to the small kitchenette situated in one corner of the room. Retrieving a device from beneath the counter, she carefully measured the proper amount of coffee beans plus a few secret ingredients, setting it to brew. She replicated a plate of eggs, ham and home fries, placing it on the dining table, along with a large glass of orange juice just as the captain exited the bedroom, fluffing her hair which was still damp, and sweeping it up into a bun.
Janeway was dressed in a deep sapphire robe which set off her marvelous blue-grey eyes, and her feet were bare, peeping out from beneath the hem as she walked. Clearly, she was taking the day off after having pulled double duty for two days straight, and Seven was gratified. Their off duty periods rarely coincided, and she hoped that they would be able to spend the entire day together ... but only if Janeway was not angry about what had happened earlier.
But the captain smiled at Seven as she settled on her chair, picking up her fork. "This is good," she said after she tasted the home fries.
Relieved, Seven went to the replicator to prepare Jake's breakfast. After that task was complete, she went into the ensuite and took a sonic shower, dressing in a blue and gray outfit which covered her like a second skin. When she returned to the other room, she saw that Janeway had retrieved her own coffee, and was chewing on some toast as she perused a report from a padd. Seven replicated her own breakfast, blueberry waffles, and sat down at the table. She enjoyed this time with Kathryn, the rare chance to spend a leisurely breakfast together, and if it was not exactly as it had been, it was probably as close as they were going to get.
She affected not to notice when Janeway sent her crust spinning through the air where Jake snapped it up before it hit the deck, but she was aware of the captain looking at her with a impudent grin, almost as if she was daring her to say something. For some reason, since her accident, Janeway had seemed ... more playful ... though that wasn't quite the word Seven was looking for. It was edgier than that.
"Are you on duty today?" Janeway asked.
"No," Seven responded. "I did promise B'Elanna I would help with the plasma relays, but I would prefer to spend the day with you."
Janeway blinked, and a soft, shy expression crossed her face. "I think I'd like that as well." She lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry about this morning," she added, in a voice that to Seven, didn't really sound sorry at all. Instead, it sounded like Janeway was attempting to elicit some sort of information from her.
Seven thought about it for a minute. "There is nothing to apologize for," she said finally, after having discarded several other, more informative responses.
Janeway looked faintly disappointed, and Seven wondered what she had been attempting to discover.
"So what would you like to do today?" Janeway asked after a few moments.
"I had not considered it," Seven replied honestly. "What would you like to do?"
Janeway stared at her with an expression in her eyes that made Seven blush, though she wasn't sure why. "I could think of several things," Janeway said, in a voice that made the hair on the back of Seven's neck stand upright.
Seven looked down at her plate uncomfortably. She heard Janeway get up and move around the table, then felt the warmth of her fingers on her shoulder.
"Annika, please tell me what's wrong," Janeway asked softly. "What's going on here?"
"I do not know," Seven replied miserably. "I am afraid."
"Of what?" Janeway prodded gently. "Of me?"
Seven shook her head. "Of us," she said, struggling to find the words to explain. "I am afraid that if we make love and it is not ... if we do not ... if you do not ..."
"Shh," Janeway soothed, placing a finger on the Borg's lips, and lifting Seven's face to her where she regarded her with a compassionate look. "I'm sorry, Annika," she said, meaning it this time. "If you're not ready, then you're right, it's not time. I just wanted to be with you. I didn't mean to upset you." 
"I want to be with you," Seven said unhappily. "I am sorry, Kathryn. I do not have the words to explain how I feel. Or why I feel this way." She felt very much like she was going to cry. "I do not want to drive you away. I do not want to disappoint you."
"You haven't," Janeway assured her, kneeling down so that her head was on the level with Seven's. "My darling, you could never drive me away. You're absolutely stuck with me, but I would like to understand what is making it so difficult for you to believe my feelings for you are real."
Seven fought back the tears stinging her eyes. "I am afraid that what you believe you feel is only what you think you should," she said slowly. "That you have read all the logs, that you have been told that you are supposed to love me ... so you do."
Janeway took a breath. "You mean that somehow I've only convinced myself that what I feel is love," she said. She paused. "Annika, I know the difference between attraction and love."
Seven nodded unhappily. "I know."
Janeway regarded her for a long moment. "No, I don't believe you do," she said again. She sighed, lightly brushing her fingers along Seven's cheek. "Darling, what can I do to make you understand this is real?  How can I show you that I love you?"
"I do not know," Seven said in a small voice. She closed her eyes. "I want to believe. I find I ... cannot."
"Oh, Annika," Janeway said helplessly. She slid her arms around her neck and hugged her. "We'll figure it out, darling," she murmured softly into her ear. "Together. I promise I won't try to rush you anymore." Seven hugged her back, burying her face into the hollow of Janeway's neck, trying not to cry and totally unable to prevent it. Janeway just stroked her hair and nuzzled her as she wept. "Darling, I do love you," the captain added. "I'll find a way to prove it to you. In the meantime, just believe in me. Have faith in us."
"I will try," Seven whispered through her tears.
But she was very much afraid that she would fail.
 
Lieutenant Commander Tuvok made a few notations in his padd, and laid it down beside all the others which were piled neatly on the low table in front of him. As chief of security for Voyager, it was his responsibility to protect this ship and its crew from all threats, both external and internal. Right now, he was completely occupied by this current danger to the well being of his ship. 
The sabotage which had injured Captain Janeway severely, robbing her of her memories, had been a deliberate attempt to kill Lt. B'Elanna Torres, and the fact that the captain was nothing more than an inadvertent victim, did not mitigate the horrendous nature of the crime which had been committed. Right now, the perpetrator of that crime, Lt. Angela James, was being held in Voyager's brig, awaiting her court martial. Tuvok had been assigned to prosecute the case, and he had made a personal vow to carry out this task to the absolute best of his ability.
Vulcans did not take things personally as a rule, but Tuvok had an abiding distaste for Lt. James. Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine had lost their previous easy relationship, something that was clear to him though the two women tried to conceal it from the rest of the ship. He had served with Janeway for some time, having known her longer than anyone else on the ship. Seven of Nine had been in his life for a much shorter period, but he was appreciative of her logical and straightforward manner, finding in her something that reminded him remarkably of his daughter, back home in the Alpha Quadrant. He had more than the usual protective instincts toward her, though he would not admit that to just anyone.  He considered both of them to be his friends.
There were other reasons to be disturbed by this case.  Lt. James had originally presented a quiet, competent face to the ship, but digging deeper had uncovered very disturbing patterns in her personal life, no single thing that would have alerted anyone before now, but taken together as a whole, they resulted in a clear warning as to what she was capable of. Broken relationships which ended bitterly and with acrimony on both sides, behavior regarding ex-lovers and their current partners, incidents buried in her personnel record both from her days at the Academy, and at her first posting on the USS Entropy.  Her attempt to kill B'Elanna could have been predicted, if only Tuvok had been aware of everything that went on the past four years regarding the personal details of the crew's romantic liaisons.
He repressed a shudder at that thought.
The chime to his quarters sounded softly, and he looked up, raising a dark eyebrow.
"Come in," he said. He tilted his head slightly as Janeway entered. "Captain?"
"Tuvok," she greeted. When he nodded slightly, she took a seat opposite him at the unspoken invitation. "I stopped by to find out how the case is going."
As one of the victims, Janeway felt that she could not act in any sort of official manner in James's court martial. Otherwise, it was possible that the crew would feel that any outcome would be essentially unfair, no matter how she conducted herself.  Since her whole command rested on the faith and trust of the people under her, it was a risk she was not prepared to take, not here so far away from Starfleet Command and the Federation.  For the same reasons, most of the senior staff were also exempt. As a result, a panel of Judges had been chosen by the captain though so far, only the three in question had been informed.
Tuvok had not been told yet either, but he thought he could guess at least one of the individuals if he were so inclined to indulge in such speculation. The Doctor had been acting uncommonly odd the past few days. Tuvok knew the captain was very concerned that Lt. James would not get a fair and impartial trial on a ship in their situation. He also knew that she had probably agonized over her selection for quite some time.
"Indeed," he said. "Would you be more specific?"
She folded her hands and put them neatly on her lap. "I need to know if Lt. James has a case."
Tuvok raised his eyebrow. "Perhaps you should talk to her counsel," he advised dryly. "While I am forced by law to share all the details of Starfleet's case with Lt. Kim, Mr. Kim is not required to do the same. He would have a far more educated opinion on the matter than I would."
Janeway made a face. "I would not presume to talk to Harry about this. I wouldn't want to give the impression that I am trying to influence him in any way." Her steady gray eyes met his. "I was hoping that you could speculate for me, old friend."
Tuvok did not sigh, but at times, he thought that it would be a useful expression of certain emotions which were harder to suppress than others. Janeway tended to call on their long-standing friendship at the oddest times.
"Very well," he said, giving her his full and undivided attention. "Were I Lt. James's counsel, I would concentrate on the fact that Lt. Torres threatened her life, and as a result, she was acting purely in self defense."  He chose not to share with her all he had learned about the young woman.  For one thing, it would do no good, and only make her feel guilty that she hadn't seen it coming either, which was illogical of course, but very characteristic of the captain.
"Then, why didn't she inform her superior officer? Or you?" Janeway responded fretfully.
Tuvok had noticed that Janeway displayed more impatience now, was less apt to be calm in certain situations. The strangest thing was that while she was no longer like the woman of the recent past, she wasn't the woman he remembered from three years ago, either. She had become a completely new entity.
"James could have been of the belief that she would receive no assistance from her superior officers," Tuvok suggested. "That Torres held such a valuable position on the ship, she was inviolate, and that the only course of action was to protect herself in this manner."
Janeway shook her head. "I know that's what she's been saying, Tuvok, but what would possess her to come such a conclusion?"
"Torres and Seven have become close friends," Tuvok said. "Seven is your fiancé, so by extension, B'Elanna also enjoyed certain favor with you."
"I would never treat them differently than the rest of my crew, regardless of my personal feelings," she said flatly.
He controlled his expression carefully. "In truth, Captain, Seven and B'Elanna have indulged in certain ... actions in the past that could be considered inappropriate," he said.
Janeway stared at him. "Like what?"
"B'Elanna has frequently chased Seven through the ship after the Borg had provoked her in some manner," he said. "They have engaged in what I believe is known as 'horseplay' while on duty. Certain of their conversations have been ... passed around the lower decks."
"How long did this go on?" Janeway said, and her voice was cold.
"For some time," he said reluctantly, knowing he was getting into deep water here, and unable to find a way out. "A few months."
"It took me that long to find out about it?"  Janeway frowned.
"You were aware of most of it at the time, Captain."
She blinked, took a slow breath. "I let it go on?" she said, her voice suddenly uncertain.
"It was an indulgence on your part regarding Seven," he said delicately. "She is not a member of Starfleet, and her adaptation to Humanity has been a difficult one at times. I believe that B'Elanna became aware of your acceptance of Seven's non-regulation type behavior and occasionally took advantage of it for herself."
"Why would I allow this?" Janeway said in disbelief.
Tuvok hesitated. "That would require more speculation," he disassembled.
"Then, do so," she said icily.
Tuvok repressed another sigh. "In the beginning of your personal relationship, though you obviously loved Seven, you still treated her very much as a crewmember," he said. "The ship was always your ultimate priority. Then, for a brief period of time, you believed she was dead. It was extremely traumatic, and I believe, had a profound effect on you. It is possible that after Seven returned to you alive and well, you overcompensated your previous attitude toward her with one that was more ... tolerant ... of certain behavior." He paused, searching for the right words. "Also Captain, Seven was assimilated when she was only six years old. She had no traditional childhood, whatsoever. It is conceivable that you were allowing her to engage in the more 'childish' pursuits to make up for that perceived loss." 
Janeway exhaled slowly. "Tuvok, I know you would not lie to me, but I find this all difficult to believe."
He raised an eyebrow. "We have been out here for almost six years, Captain," he said. "We have experienced many things that the average starship in the Alpha Quadrant simply would not. Also, the crew is comprised of many differing elements outside of Starfleet; Maquis, Talaxian, Ocampa, Borg, holographic entities. To command such a diverse crew is a constant experimental process, requiring a certain amount of latitude on both sides.  It has been highly successful most of the time, though occasionally it is not. It is very much trial and error, where you must often learn from your mistakes, though you always do your best to correct any errors in judgement as quickly as possible. I do know that a month before the incident which injured you, you had brought B'Elanna back under control, though I am unsure how you accomplished it. But the whole ship was aware of her new demeanor."
"Still, it's possible that James thought I would actually allow Torres to harm her without repercussion," Janeway said fretfully. "With Chakotay involved with B'Elanna now, it might seem that she had no where to go."
Tuvok raised his head. "Perhaps," he allowed. "But none of the rest of the crew shares this irrational belief. It is an illogical conclusion to make with such little data. I certainly have no intention of allowing her to use such a belief to justify attempted murder."
Janeway looked away, was silent for quite a few moments. Tuvok regarded her quietly, waiting patiently for her response, but when it came, it was not about the case.
"Tuvok, how well do you know Seven?" she asked quietly.
Tuvok considered the question, wondering what had prompted it. "She is my friend," he said finally.
Janeway eyed him with faint surprise. It was not something he said lightly. There was a wealth of meaning behind that the stark statement that only she would be aware of.
"I see.". She smiled faintly. "I don't know who else to talk to, Tuvok."
Tuvok dipped his head. He could see where this was going now ... unfortunately.
"Seven is afraid of me," Janeway said slowly. "Afraid that my feelings aren't real."
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Are they?"
Janeway made a face at him. "Of course they are," she said. "I'm in love with her, but she just doesn't believe it. The longer we go on this way, the more afraid she becomes, and the less willing she is to ... escalate our relationship."
"I see," Tuvok said, and stifled another sigh. Honestly, why did he always find himself explaining Human behavior to other Humans? One would assume they would be the experts, rather than he. "She does not know you anymore, Captain."
Janeway frowned at him. "I'm the one who doesn't remember her," she said with a touch of puzzlement. "Her memory is absolutely fine."
"Captain, she loves who you were," he explained. "It was easy for you to begin again. You met her, and found a stranger whom you had to rediscover. Seven, however, looks at you, and sees who you used to be. But the emotion she is now perceiving is not the same as what she was accustomed to, whether because you display it differently, or because you are a different person now. As a result, Seven cannot trust your feelings, though perhaps she cannot understand why. She needs to comprehend that you are no longer the person she loved. She must learn to love the person you are, just as you learned how to love her."
Janeway eyed him as if unable to believe what she was hearing. "I must admit, Tuvok," she said slowly. "I'm surprised at your take on this."
He tilted his head. "Do you consider it inaccurate, Captain?"
"No," she said, astonishment tinging her voice ... and excitement. "I think you've hit the nail right on the head.  It's so obvious now that you've laid it out for me."
Tuvok allowed himself a certain satisfaction at the accuracy of his conclusions, though it took him a moment to work out the simile. "So your course of action is clear," he said.
"It is?" she responded, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"You must woo her, Captain," he said.
"'Woo her'?" Janeway sat up straight and stared at him. "Excuse me, Tuvok. Did you say I have to 'woo her'?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Is the terminology incorrect?"
Janeway's mouth opened, closed, opened again. She looked vaguely like an aquatic animal, he thought idly. A Terran carp, perhaps? He waited patiently for her to regain her composure.
Finally she shook her head, smiling ruefully. "Tuvok, I don't know what I expected when I came in here, but it certainly wasn't help on my love life."
"This is not the first time you have come to me about it," he said with a certain amount of gentleness.
She stared at him, then brightened suddenly. "Yes," she said in an odd tone. "We were walking in the corridor. I asked you what I should do about Seven. You advised me to tell her I loved her." The captain looked very pleased, as she always did whenever she had managed to retrieve yet another fragment of her lost memories.
"You did not agree with that advice," he reminded her.
"No," she said. "But you were right then, and you're probably right now, old friend." A determined look came over her face. "I'm just going to have to woo her."
A sudden qualm struck him. "Do you know how to 'woo', Captain?" he asked with some concern.
A smile played about her lips, quirking one corner of her mouth. "I believe I can figure it out," she said dryly.
 
Seven of Nine entered the astrometrics lab, her mind swirling with equations and the plotting of charts regarding this area of space. She had discovered that if she concentrated very hard on work, it usually kept her from feeling so unhappy and afraid. The absence of those emotions was a welcome relief to her, though it inevitably did not last very long. 
She frowned as she saw the clear, crystal vase sitting on her console, a single perfect rose, its petals a deep, almost blood red, filling the air around it with the most delicate of perfume. She hesitated, then picked up the small envelope leaning against the base. Inside was a card, displaying a single phrase in what was clearly handwritten script.
"'Thinking of you always. K.'"
Seven did not know who K was, or why such a card would accompany a piece of dying vegetation.  She wondered if a biological sample intended for exobiology had somehow mistakenly ended up in the astrometrics department. The doors to the lab hissed open, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Lt. Torres. B'Elanna offered an intrigued expression when she caught sight of the rose, and when she held her hand out for the card, Seven obligingly gave it to her.
B'Elanna read it and grinned. "Well, isn't this romantic."
"'Romantic'?" Seven repeated. "Who would do this?"
B'Elanna eyed her. "It's from the captain," she said as if she wasn't sure if Seven was being serious or not. "Who else would send you a rose?"
Seven blinked.  'K' meant Kathryn?  She gazed at the rose in confusion. "Why would she give me a decomposing plant?"
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "Seven, sending flowers to someone is an attempt to convey an emotion," she told her. "Roses are especially romantic, and the color denotes what intention the sender has toward the recipient."
"Explain," Seven requested, frowning as she looked at her.
B'Elanna blinked. "You really don't know what this means?"
"I do not," Seven said precisely.
"Fine," B'Elanna said with forced patience. "A white rose signifies purity, that the person's emotions toward you are innocent and without passion. Tuvok would send a white rose ... if he were the type to sent roses, that is. A yellow rose denotes friendship. I would send you a yellow rose."
"What does red indicate?" Seven asked, touching one of the crimson petals gingerly, astounded at how velvet soft the texture was.
"Love," B'Elanna said flatly. "Deep, passionate, head-over-heels love."
Seven glanced at her skeptically. "Dead vegetation signifies all that?"
"In Human culture, yes," B'Elanna said. "Why?"
Seven dipped her head, regarding the flower warily. "The captain says she loves me."
"Of course she does," B'Elanna said, frowning.
"It is not the same as what she felt for me before," Seven elaborated. "It is different."
"Different, how?"
Seven shook her head. "I cannot explain it," she said sorrowfully. "It is just not the same as how she felt before."
B'Elanna studied her. "The captain's a different person now, Seven," she said with uncharacteristic gentleness. "But I do know this, no matter what she's been through, Captain Janeway would not do something like this unless she meant it. It's no joke. It's a completely serious gesture."
Seven felt confused, lost. "She does not make 'gestures' like this," she said, struggling to understand. "It is not her way."
"Well, she does now," Torres pointed out. Seven looked at her unhappily, and B'Elanna picked up the card, trying it from another angle. "This says she's thinking of you, Seven. How does that make you feel, knowing she would take the time to let you know you're always on her mind?"
Seven thought about it. "It makes me feel ... good," she admitted finally.
"Then go with it, and quit your bellyaching," B'Elanna said, obviously at the end of her patience with this topic. "I didn't come here to talk about this. I want to speak with you about the court martial. What do you intend to say on the stand?"
Seven wondered if the situation she found herself in with Janeway was spilling over into the rest of her life. More and more, she felt like she had no idea what was going on around her. It reminded her uncomfortably of how she felt when she first arrived on Voyager; baffled, afraid, completely at a loss at how to behave or what to say. Then, she had covered it up with an icy demeanor, with a cold arrogance and presumption to hide the deep fear inside. Now, she could only show her confusion.
"The 'stand'?"
"Yes, Seven," B'Elanna said, with what was clearly forced patience. "Harry will try to get you to say that I threatened James's life." 
"You did threaten her life," Seven responded, puzzled.
B'Elanna rolled her eyes again, and it occurred to Seven that the chief engineer had been doing that quite a lot recently.
"Seven, I didn't threaten her life."
"I heard you threaten to kill her," Seven responded slowly. "Several times in a variety of ways."
"But, I didn't mean it," B'Elanna protested.
"Didn't mean that you would kill Lt. James, or didn't mean that you were going to use several methods?" Seven asked and immediately stepped out of arm's length, glad that she had when B'Elanna promptly slammed her fist into the console, leaving a respectable dent.
"Are you trying to drive me crazy, Seven?" she yelled.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" Seven wondered.
B'Elanna froze, dark eyes glaring at Seven who took another involuntary step backward. Taking a long slow deep breath, B'Elanna unclenched her fists, one finger at a time, and smiled. It was a very insincere smile, Seven thought uneasily.
"Seven," B'Elanna said with careful enunciation. "I am always threatening to kill various people, aren't I?"
"Yes," Seven responded positively, feeling a bit relieved that she could answer at least one of B'Elanna's questions with some conviction that it was the correct response. "You have threatened to kill me in a most unpleasant manner no less than seventeen times."
"And how many times have I actually killed you?" B'Elanna said.
Seven considered that very carefully, wondering if it were some kind of trick question. "You have never killed me," she said slowly.
B'Elanna let out an exaggerated exhalation. "Exactly," she said. "That's all you have to say to Harry."
"Harry knows you have not killed me," Seven pointed out.
"But he will ask you about it," B'Elanna told her, eyes starting to glaze over.
Seven blinked. "How do you know this?" she demanded.
B'Elanna stared at her for several moments. "Seven, do you know what a court martial is?"
"It is a military court to try persons subject to military law," Seven recited. "A trial by such a court."
"But, do you know what that means?" B'Elanna asked. "Do you understand what's going to happen with Lt. James?"
Seven frowned. "Lt. James had been judged to have done wrong," she said slowly. "The captain is punishing her by confining her to the brig, just as she used to confine me in the cargo bay when I made a mistake. That is 'Starfleet' justice. Kathryn said that she must not face Klingon justice or Borg justice." She paused. "I do not believe the Borg have such a concept as 'justice'. If a drone is flawed and cannot be repaired, then it is destroyed."
"Seven, James is in the brig awaiting her court martial," B'Elanna corrected. She leaned against the console. "It hasn't already happened. She will be tried for attempting to murder the captain and me. If she is convicted, then she will be punished."
"Oh," Seven said. She raised an eyebrow, her eyepiece glinting briefly in the muted light. "She is not being punished now?"
"No," B'Elanna said. "If the attempted murder of the captain is switched over to a mutiny charge, James could be hung."
"'Hung'?" Seven said, unsure what it meant.
"Yeah," B'Elanna said and got that tone in her voice she always did when discussing something brutal. A mix of fascination, anticipation, and a slight repulsion. "A rope would be tied around her neck, and she'll be dropped through a trapdoor which it would either snap her neck or suffocate her ... assuming that's the sentence, of course."
Seven felt vaguely repulsed herself. What an inefficient way to terminate someone. Surely they could come up with something better than that. Perhaps she could offer a list of more efficient and quicker methods, though it seemed that this method was a tradition of sorts, unquestionably Human.
"I do not believe the captain would agree to that," Seven said slowly. Though she did wonder. The Janeway she knew would never have agreed to it. Seven had no way of knowing what the current Janeway would agree to.
B'Elanna shrugged. "Perhaps. There's no question, James is in a lot of trouble. We have to make sure our stories are straight when we're called to give testimony."
Seven felt very frustrated. "'Testimony'?"
B'Elanna sighed loudly. "Seven, just do some research on it, will you?"
Seven thought that was the most comprehensible thing the chief engineer had said since she arrived. She would indeed do some research on court-martial, beyond the listed meaning in the database.
Also on Human traditions regarding romance. It appeared that she was missing something very important there, as well.