With a good percentage of the ship's engineering and science staff involved in the construction of the communications array, the rest of the crew found themselves with a certain amount of free time on their hands. Kelly was not surprised when Ro contacted her to let her know the training run had been scheduled. Was the first officer still interested in participating?

“I can't wait,” Kelly responded honestly before tapping the comm badge to close the channel. She left the padds she had been working on and went into the bedroom where she dug out her favorite phaser rifle from the footlocker at the end of the bed. Checking it over lovingly, she made sure that it was fully charged, its scarred and scratched finish glinting dully in the light, the stock feeling very familiar in her hands. The weapon had been with Kelly through the entire Dominion War, and had never let her down, including a few instances when it had been all that was left between her and certain death.

Ro and the rest of her team were waiting by the main doors leading to the holodeck. The Bajoran raised an eyebrow when she saw that the first officer had brought her own weapon, but she didn't comment. Instead, she indicated the rest of the security team.

“Lt. D'Or, Ensign Decker, Lt. Chow, and of course, you know M'Reek, my assistant,” she introduced shortly.

Kelly nodded to each one. D'Or was a fresh faced young man from Bajor, light-haired, with that anxious look of anticipation that puppy dogs have when going out with their master on a walk. He hefted his phaser rifle impatiently. Decker was short but thin, wiry in build and looking almost rodent-like, as if he could scurry into tight spaces, do what had to be done, and be gone before anyone was the wiser. He wore only a hand phaser. Kelly suspected the rest of his weapons were concealed. Chow was much taller, with dark hair and eyes, solid across the chest, arms and shoulders, indicating she had been born on a world with a higher gravity than normal, condensing bone and muscle into solid mass. She displayed no weapons at all. The tall, slender M'Reek, meanwhile, had two swords strapped across his back and two daggers strapped to his thighs, in addition to the traditional hand phaser and rifle.

“Okay, this is a standard seek and destroy,” Ro continued. “Hostiles have taken over the ship, and it's up to each team to secure the bridge and the engine room respectively. We'll be starting equal distance from the goal. M'Reek, you take a team and head for the bridge. My team will take the engine room.”

“Aye, Commander,” he said. “I'll take Decker and Kelly.”

Kelly was slightly disappointed that she wouldn't be with Ro, but these were the sort of people she understood and with whom she felt comfortable. She lifted her chin as she glanced at the Bajoran for clarification. “Is Lt. M'Reek my team leader?”

Ro blinked, as if temporarily forgetting that Kelly ranked them all. “In this instance, until we have a better sense of your abilities, we need to consider you the junior member of the team. Is that agreeable with you, Commander?”

Kelly shrugged. “It's your game, Commander. I'm fine with it.”

“Good.” Ro paused. “It's not entirely a game, Kiara. The safeties are off. You can get hurt, and if you're particularly unlucky, you might even get killed.”

“I understand. It's not a problem, Laren. I can just as easily get killed falling down an access ladder between decks.”

Ro gave her another evaluating glance but didn't argue. She jerked her head. “M'Reek, you're through first.”

He nodded briefly, a feral smile decorating his tanned features. His reddish-brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail at the base of his neck, his dark eyes narrow with anticipation. Kelly wasn't sure what species he belonged to, but he didn’t move like a typical Humanoid. Decker did, but in a very sneaky way, as if he were on the run from someone, perhaps from the law. Had this been a civilian setting, and she didn't know any better, Kelly would have kept her distance, suspecting on looks alone that he would knock her over her head at the first opportunity and steal everything she had. But the uniform crossed many barriers, and she didn't hesitate as he took his place behind her.

After crossing to the other side of the holodeck, the gridlines abruptly disappeared, leaving only the light from the doorway and the outside corridor reflecting within. Kelly stumbled a bit, freezing in place, as the door slid shut and left them in total blackness.

“Steady,” M'Reek murmured. “The rest are setting up. The lights will come on for both teams at the same time.”

Kelly waited, her eyes straining to pierce the dark even as she knew it was futile. When the lights suddenly came on, she was nearly blinded, and was forced to blink several times before her vision cleared. When things came into focus, she didn't recognize where she was, the starship corridors narrow and somewhat cramped in comparison to her new ship.

“This isn't Millennium,” she blurted.

“No,” M'Reek said grimly as he looked around. “I'm betting it's Voyager.”

“Ah, dammit,” Decker moaned, looking disgusted. “You should have taken D'Or instead of me. He served on Voyager, and with him on her team, Ro's gonna have all the advantages in this scenario.”

“The chief's always fair, Decker,” M'Reek said shortly, waving off the other man's argument. “She took the harder route and probably the more concentrated enemy.”

Kelly lifted her rifle uneasily. “Who is the enemy?”

“That's the problem, uh, Commander,” Decker explained, belatedly remembering who she was. “It could be any species from the Delta Quadrant.” He shook his head. “I hope there aren't any bugs. I'd rather face a squad of Jem'Hadar.”

“Bugs?”

“Species 8472,” M'Reek explained tersely. “They fought the Borg to a standstill before Voyager got involved and chased them back to fluidic space. Their physiology is completely incompatible with Humanoid life. A mere scratch will start turning you into the equivalent of seaweed. Oh, and they're sort of telepathic, so they generally know you're coming. They're twice as big as we are, and three times as strong, with an incredible regenerative factor. The only thing that'll kill them is a phaser rifle modified to carry enhanced nanoprobes in the energy beam. If it's the bugs, we'll have to sneak our way to the armory to pick some up before even thinking of fighting our way to the bridge.”

Kelly stared at him, feeling somewhat numbed by his brief explanation of the possible threat. Voyager chased these things back into their own space?

“Maybe it won't be them,” Decker said hopefully in the sort of tone that indicated he didn't believe his own words.

“Quiet,” M'Reek ordered, obviously tired of the speculation. “Let's move out.”

Hands suddenly slippery with sweat, Kelly followed as they made their way cautiously down the corridor. Turning a corner, she felt a chill when she saw the first of the bodies scattered over the deck. They were dressed in old style uniforms, with the department color banding the shoulders rather than designated by the sweaters.

“What the hell?”

Kelly regretted her inadvertent outburst as M'Reek knelt beside the closest crumpled form, pressing his fingers against the neck. On the other side of the fallen officer's throat, there was a wound of some kind but no blood.

“Still alive,” the security officer said, his gaze thoughtful. “But he's paralyzed. Ideas?”

“Could be the Kazon,” Decker said, obviously thinking quickly. “When they took over the ship, they might have drugged them. Or the pitcher plant when it forced hallucinations on everyone.”

Kelly blinked, completely mystified. M'Reek shot a look at her. “Commander, did you bring along a tricorder?” His voice was slightly deferential, and belatedly, she remembered the device she had attached to her tunic before leaving her quarters. She handed it to him, wondering why he didn't use the one lying next to the fallen Voyager crewmember. He seemed to recognize her puzzlement. “On some simulations, the tricorders just don't work. Since this is a real one, it should detect something.” He studied the readings for a few minutes. “Oh, so that's it.”

“What?”

Before he could answer, the wound on the nearby body began to twitch, and Kelly took a step back, horrified. Something ... tiny, fluttering things of some sort ... began to fly up, as if freed from their prison, looking like insects. Had they been inside the body, feasting on it? The first officer felt a little sick.

“Move back,” M'Reek ordered, his voice suddenly urgent. “Before they infect one of us.” He turned and began to run down a nearby corridor. “Follow me.”

Kelly took off after him, not sure why she was fleeing, but trusting her teammate's assessment of the situation. They skidded around another corner, and Kelly nearly took a tumble as she saw the captain running toward them. In Janeway's wake were several flying creatures, round and thick, about two meters wide, with a sharp barb on the underside, stabbing at the fleeing officer. M'Reek didn't hesitate, firing his weapon above the captain's head. Decker and Kelly quickly followed suit, shooting at the buzzing forms as they approached. The first officer was gratified to see that they crashed and burned with satisfying finality under the concentrated phaser fire.

The firefight lasted only a minute, and when it was over, the captain looked at them with stern arrogance. Dressed only in a slate-blue tank-top and uniform trousers, Janeway was hefting a phaser rifle that appeared bigger than she was. Her face and arms were smudged with sweat and dirt, her auburn hair awry. She raked the security team with a burning glance. “Get to the bridge,” she ordered sharply, and Kelly belatedly realized this was a hologram, acting as the captain would have during that original encounter. “I'm heading for sickbay. The Doctor is developing an antigen for the macrovirus, but you're going to have to keep the Tak Tak at bay before they destroy the ship and cost us any chance at solving this problem.”

The holographic Janeway didn't wait to hear any comments at her revelation, sprinting down the corridor away from them. Kelly blinked after her, trying to reconcile the feisty little warrior with the staid, uptight captain she had been exposed to since boarding Millennium. Ro must have enhanced the program a little, she thought idly.

“Damn.”

Confused, Kelly looked at Decker. M'Reek caught her puzzlement and lifted his chin. “That means there's a time limit on this. If we can't get to the bridge and prevent the Tak Tak from blowing us up before the captain releases the antigen, we'll lose the game.” He started off at a steady jog, not looking behind to see if they followed. It was just assumed that they would.

The next little while was a series of nightmare encounters for the first officer, struggling to keep up with the rest of her team. The fully-grown swarms of macrovirus attacked them at every turn, and though they died easily, their numbers appeared unlimited. At one point, Kelly found herself on her back, the deck cold and hard beneath her spine as she fought off the eyeless, mouthless creature pinning her down. The barb on its underside jabbed at her with stunning force, and she was barely able to fend it off with her rifle. At one point, the barb stabbed the deck beside her head, the officer jerking away just in time. She was keenly aware that while the so-called infective nature of the virus was simulated in this program, the sharp point of the curved stinger was not. With the safeties off, it would have impaled her left eye and left her, if not dead, then severely incapacitated for the next few days. She cried out as M'Reek lunged toward her and dispatched the thing with his swords, the blades flashing with astonishing speed and skill as they sliced her attacker apart and left the first officer splattered by greenish goo.

Eventually making it to the bridge and utilizing the Intrepid-class ops and tactical stations to fight a minor space battle was practically a walk in the park in comparison, though the Tak Tak ships were quick and quite powerful. When the call came in from sickbay that the antigen had been released, the macrovirus had been destroyed and the crew was waking up, Kelly nearly wept from the sheer relief of being able to finally stop and rest.

She slumped over the helm, breathing heavily. Sweat streaked her face, and she discovered that somewhere along the line, she had lost her cherished phaser rifle. She was too exhausted to be properly horrified at that realization, wondering if two years of sitting on her ass in the captain's chair on Grissom, commanding patrol runs, had completely dulled her combat edge. She didn't remember ever feeling this dragged out after a battle.

At ops, in direct contrast to the first officer, Decker was thoroughly pleased with the situation, grinning wildly as he shot a look at M'Reek, who was covering the tactical station.

“I was wrong, buddy,” he said cheerfully. “You knew what you were doing when you brought the commander along.”

M'Reek nodded, and Kelly, who hadn't done much beyond survive for the duration of the exercise, looked at them oddly. “What do you mean?”

Decker shrugged. “We only had to get past the damn mosquitoes,” he said, obviously utilizing the nickname for the macrovirus. “Ro took it easy on you.”

“Easy on me?” Kelly repeated stupidly.

“Yeah, if you'd been on the other team, then M'Reek and I would have had to go through something like the Hirogen, or the Borg, or at the very least, the Vidiians.”

“Vidiians?”

“A species that harvested organs from other races to replace those they lost from the phage, a disease that attacks and destroys their genetic code,” M'Reek explained shortly. “Far more technologically advanced than we are, medically speaking.” He was standing quietly, carefully wiping the greenish goo from his swords. “Decker's right. The macrovirus is probably the least dangerous of the threats Voyager encountered in the Delta Quadrant.” He offered her a small smile, obviously intended to encourage her. “But don't worry, Commander. Now that Ro knows how well you can handle yourself, she'll be sure to throw in the more challenging stuff for you next time.”

Kelly just stared at him, unable to formulate a response of any kind.

Seven looked over the main board of the command center for the array and made a few adjustments in the data stream. Surrounding her on the bulkheads, various screens flickered with static or computer readouts as the combined crew of Starfleet and StarScouts brought the huge communications hub online. In front of the Borg, just beyond the main panel, a large viewport looked out onto the Hearthstone space station, and beyond that, to the sleek shape of the orbiting Millennium.

It appeared so tiny from this distance, Seven thought idly.

The construction was progressing rapidly, and it was the Borg's hope that they would have the last interior details completed by the end of the week. She supposed that she shouldn't be as anxious to leave Confederation space as she was, but it still made her uncomfortable to know the role she played in fooling the Elthanian Intendant ... assuming she had fooled her at all. Regardless of the level of Jade's awareness in what was going on, it was Seven's own actions that bothered her the most. Deception, despite its usefulness, left her feeling uncomfortable and less than who she believed herself to be.

“Lieutenant?”

Seven turned to look at T'Shanik who was assisting with the installation of the array's main control systems. Starfleet officers would monitor any communications from the Federation in this room, as well as from Millennium as it made its way through the Beta Quadrant. Six volunteers had been chosen to remain in the Confederation over the next year, living and working in the array itself, the control station centered within the vast grid that spread around it. The amenities and hospitality of Hearthstone were only a shuttle ride away, and Seven knew that, despite the cramped quarters, manning the array was not considered an onerous assignment, particularly by those individuals who didn't always enjoy the thrill of exploration, yet had found themselves posted to the Millennium by virtue of Starfleet's duty rotation. There were also a couple of anthropologists who wanted the chance to study the Confederation up close for a concentrated period. The ship's counselor had picked the six most compatible individuals who, hopefully, would not find cause to kill each other in the close confines of the array.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” The Vulcan showed her the information on the padd she was carrying. Seven ran through it quickly. “A variation in the power couplings,” she identified. “Send a repair team to adjust the input ratio.”

T'Shanik nodded and moved off to dispatch the team of technicians to make the repairs. Seven looked after her for a moment. Of the junior group of officers the Borg had befriended during Millennium's first mission, only T'Shanik and Nog remained. The rest had moved on, Tarn and Spencer to Voyager under Captain Zar, while Marcos had taken an assignment on the Titan, Captain Riker's ship. It made her wistful and somewhat wary of befriending any of the new people who had arrived on Millennium in this second year. She knew that individuals would come and go in her life, but it was still not easy for her. The gradual drifting apart that occurred as people's lives led them on different paths, was not something she thought was a necessary addition to her development into Humanity.

Of course, she noted sternly to herself, it was probably not the loss of the junior officers in her life that made her so melancholy this day. It was Naomi Wildman. On Voyager, Seven and the ship's only child had developed a close bond, so close that Seven had found herself longing for a child of her own to exponentially increase the love she was experiencing. After their return to the Alpha Quadrant, however, Naomi had remained on DS9 while Seven went home to Earth with the captain. The Borg had tried to stay in touch, faithfully transmitting a letter every week to the girl, but while Naomi had responded enthusiastically at first, her replies had gradually tapered off. When Seven discovered that the Wildmans were being assigned to Millennium, she had been exceptionally happy, anticipating that the close relationship she had enjoyed with the girl would be renewed.

It hadn't worked out that way. Certainly, Naomi had been glad to see her and had dropped by the captain's quarters often in those early months to catch up, but eventually, she stopped coming by without a specific invitation from Seven. The child had grown physically, as well. Katarians matured faster than did Humans, and though Naomi had been three on Voyager when Seven first met her, she had looked and acted like a six-year-old. Now that she was eight, her maturation had slowed somewhat to that of a Human child just entering puberty. Seven discovered to her dismay that she could no longer connect to her in the way they once had. The previous day, they had planned to drop by Hearthstone to go shopping together, but Naomi had called at the last moment and canceled. She had not been particularly tactful in indicating that she preferred to go with her sister and friends from school rather than with Seven.

Seven understood that the youngster would have more in common with those she interacted with most of the time, rather than the ship's science officer, yet it had still hurt to realize that she was no longer considered Naomi's close friend. Janeway, when informed of the canceled plans, had hugged her spouse tightly in complete understanding, though her words of comfort did little to make Seven feel better about the sense of loss.

Now the Borg wondered how many more people would drift out of her life in the same matter. B'Elanna was still close, of course, and so was Ro, but that was because both couples had been in the position to maintain close ties, both on Earth and subsequently in being assigned to Millennium. Seven and Icheb had tried to ride their horses together in Arizona over this past leave whenever they could, but he had also altered in demeanor. Because of his attending Starfleet Academy, he was suddenly very aware of her being a senior lieutenant while he was only a cadet. Their interaction had been stiff and uncomfortable at times, completely different from what she had known with the young man while he had lived on Voyager.

It seemed painfully ironic that Tazna Jade, whom Seven had not seen in five years and did not particularly care about other than as a charming and intellectually appealing acquaintance, had changed so little. Her attentions to Seven were of the same type and intensity she had shown during their first encounter. Seven merely understood it better now, to the point where she had tried to exploit it for her own gain. A blush of shame warmed her cheeks at the reminder, and she refocused her attention on the board. This was not the time or place to be indulging in regrets and recriminations about things that she could do nothing to change.

A motion at the door caught her eye and she looked over, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as she recognized the Elthanian Intendant. She dropped her hands to her side and stiffened, waiting as Tazna entered the room.

“It's coming along very quickly, Seven,” she said in her melodious voice.

“It is, Intendant,” the Borg said formally. “We hope to have the final installation completed by the end of the week.”

Tazna lifted her brow, the antennae wafting lightly in the still air of the operations center. Her emerald eyes were somewhat regretful as she looked over the Borg. “You used to call me Jade, my dear.”

Seven exhaled slowly, taking a precious few seconds to formulate a response. “I believed I had lost that privilege after my actions.”

Tazna blinked, obviously surprised. “That?” She waved it off. “That was strategy, Seven, a matter of tactics played out between two old starship commanders who think themselves equally clever in diplomatic maneuvering. I certainly took no offense at it. My only disappointment was that you were the instrument Janeway utilized to get around me. I expected her to respect you as more than a mere tool to be used in the games we play.” She shrugged. “Still, as you in the Federation have said, all's fair in love and war.”

Seven found the saying distasteful, but probably quite Human.

Tazna stood near. “I appreciate that you have no interest in me on a physical level, but I would hate to think this would negatively impact our friendship. I very much enjoyed our intellectual discussions, far more than any romantic fantasy I may have entertained.”

“Thank you, In-- Jade.” Seven felt a little better about things.

“So, explain to me the function of this structure,” Tazna went on, lifting her hand to indicate her surroundings. “I am aware that Starfleet officers will man the station in the beginning, but it's hoped that we will eventually be able to take over its maintenance.”

Seven dipped her head. “That is also what the Federation hopes. Over the next year, the array's personnel will train their replacements selected from the ranks of the StarScouts.”

Seven showed her the control room, explaining how the array would pick up subspace communication from anywhere in the quadrant and bounce it to the Pathfinder array orbiting Jupiter in the Terran system. Then she took the Elthanian on a brief tour through the three cramped living quarters, the small gym, holosuite, and finally, the tiny mess that would double as a conference area. The six officers had yet to move in, but three of them had already placed personal items in a couple of the cabins, making their claim ahead of time. The tour was short, and the two women soon ended up back where they had started.

Tazna's emerald eyes were warm as she regarded the Borg. “I don't suppose I could entice you to dinner?”

Seven shook her head. “I cannot. Kathryn would not be comfortable with it.” She paused. “May I ask you a question, Jade?”

“Please.”

“You are an admiral individual, intelligent, attractive, and charming. Why have you not made a permanent liaison with another?”

Tazna shrugged. “I'm not ready for mating.”

Seven took note of the inflection. The way it was said indicated something more than how the word translated. “Jade, do you comprehend the bond between Captain Janeway and myself?”

Tazna half shrugged. “You copulate. I think that's great. Frankly, Janeway looks like she could use that sort of recreation on a regular basis.”

Seven's lips twitched, not sure whether to be amused or offended for her spouse. “It is more than merely 'sleeping together'. Are there no legal and social unions formed between individuals in your culture? Permanent, monogamous ones?”

Tazna blinked. “Of course. When it comes time to produce offspring, a mating occurs that precludes sexual interest in others. Why?”

Seven considered it. “A 'mating' is what Kathryn and I share.”

Tazna suddenly looked stricken. “You have no offspring, nor plans for any. You told me that yourself.”

“Not yet, but in our culture, such joining is not dependent on producing offspring, only on the agreement between two individuals to be bonded.” Seven finally understood why the term 'married' did not fully translate.

Tazna frowned. “I am ... truly sorry, Seven. I was of the understanding that Humans did not have a biological imperative to mate, unlike ourselves. They were capable of physical interaction with whomever they wished at any time.”

Seven shook her head. “You believed I was available for physical encounters since I did not have children.”

“You indicated you were.”

Seven felt a flush of embarrassment. “You found it easy to accept, because you did not understand why it would be impossible for me to betray Kathryn in that manner. I took advantage of that cultural misunderstanding.” She dipped her head. “I am the one who is sorry.”

Tazna blinked, absorbing this new revelation. “I, of course, as a different species, determined if you were biologically compatible for a physical interaction with me, but I didn't explore the varied levels of interaction of your particular culture.” She tilted her head. “You and Janeway are more than physically involved.”

“Exactly.”

“Why pretend otherwise?”

“To gain the advantage in the negotiations.”

Tazna considered that. “Ah,” she said after a moment. Her eyes grew lidded. “This is intriguing, Seven. It makes you a more dangerous species than I first anticipated. Your actions are not as predictable as I thought.”

Seven lifted a brow. “Indeed.” She wondered if Tazna was referring to the Borg or to Humans. “Do you need for us to be predictable?”

“I need to be able to understand you.”

Seven tilted her head. “That is what this communications array may provide; a way for our two civilizations to better understand each other.”

Tazna's eyes flickered, but she didn't respond. Instead, she offered that odd little bow characteristic of Elthanians and took Seven's hand, kissing it lightly. “To future understanding.” The Elthanian made a move to leave, and then turned back at the last second. “Seven, please, continue to study our differences,” she said in a low, earnest voice. “As we have discovered, things may not always be as they seem. They are particularly not what they appear with the Soularri. Do not trust Jiidan.”

Seven lifted her chin. “Elaborate.”

Tazna parted her lips, paused as a group of technicians entered the control center, and closed them firmly. Whatever she had been about to say, was irretrievably lost.

“Just remember what I said, Seven.”

She offered another formal half bow to the Borg and left, not looking back as she exited the room. Seven stared after her, puzzled, confused, and not a little concerned. For the rest of her duty shift, the Elthanian's words bothered her, filling her thoughts even as she returned to Millennium and headed for her cabin, wondering if she should share this with the captain though she still lacked a great deal of relevant data.

She faltered as she entered the captain's quarters, startled by what awaited her.

Janeway lit the last of the candles and looked around the room a final time, making sure everything was ready. She knew Seven was on her way to their quarters, the transporter room having contacted her as per instructions to let the captain know the Borg had beamed back from array. With any luck, a romantic and passionate evening would drive away the last of this unfortunate business with Tazna Jade.

The door to their quarters hissed open and Janeway straightened, holding two glasses of wine as a sort of offering. Seven hesitated briefly when she saw the captain dressed in a silken gown of dark blue, one leg poking provocatively through the slit up the front. The gown was cut low at the neck, displaying all the cleavage it could manage. Janeway modified her expression into one of pure sensuality, intending to leave little doubt about what she had in mind.

Seven merely blinked and moved past the captain to the computer station where she immediately set to work. Janeway was deeply disappointed, and even a little annoyed at being ignored so blithely.

“Annika?”

“A moment, Kathryn,” Seven said, not looking up as she intently input commands into the computer, her fingers flying over the control pad.

Janeway started to feel slightly ridiculous standing there with two glasses of wine, attempting to look sexy when all her partner appeared interested in was the data streaming across the viewscreen.

“Can't you do that later?”

“I wish to initiate a line of inquiry while we are still in contact with the Hearthstone database,” Seven explained absently. “It will not take long.”

Janeway rolled her eyes and exhaled audibly. “Care to tell me what this is about?”

Seven shook her head. “I do not yet have the necessary information to offer a comprehensive report.” She input a few final commands and then turned to look at Janeway. “You look very nice, Kathryn.” Her tone was polite, nothing more.

Janeway pursed her lips. “A little more enthusiasm would be appreciated, Seven.”

“Why?”

Janeway lifted the glasses, spreading her arms. “I'm trying to make up with you, darling.”

“We are not arguing.”

“Dammit, we soon will be,” Janeway snapped, turning around and placing the glasses on the kitchenette counter. When she looked back at the Borg, Seven looked vaguely perplexed, and with an effort, the captain dampened down her temper. “I'm sorry. I guess I had a preconceived idea of how this evening would go.”

“It is obvious from your attire how you wish the evening to go, Kathryn. However, I am not always in accord with your mood.”

“Is something wrong?”

Seven linked her hands behind her back and assumed a thoughtful mien. “I am concerned that we are accepting too many things about the Confederation at face value. That could prove dangerous.”

Janeway lifted her chin, her command persona suddenly back in full force. “Do you have some reason to feel this way?”

Seven hesitated, and then shook her head. “Again, I lack the necessary data.” She appeared slightly frustrated. “I believe there is something more that we need to discover, Captain. Something about how the Elthanians and the Soularri interact, something that we're missing at present.”

Janeway perched on the nearby stool and propped her elbow on the counter, resting her chin on her thumb and forefinger as she regarded the Borg keenly. “But you don't have anything specific?”

“No.”

“All right. We'll just have to keep our ears and eyes open. At least, we'll have a Soularri on the ship as a source.”

“Possibly a one-sided source.”

“Possibly.”

The couple fell silent, regarding each other for a moment. Seven's brilliant blue eyes softened, as did her voice. “You really do look lovely, Kathryn.”

Janeway smiled, recognizing the honest attempt by her spouse to reach for the mood the captain had been attempting. “Thank you, darling.”

She reached out her hand, and obligingly, the Borg took several steps across the room to accept it, allowing the captain to pull her into an embrace. Though the stool was tall, it still left Janeway shorter than the Borg, the top of her head barely reaching Seven's chin. The captain slipped her arms around her and buried her face in the crook of Seven's neck.

Seven hugged her, bending her head to rest her cheek on Janeway's hair. “I am sorry I am not feeling more amorous, Kathryn.”

“You feel what you feel, darling,” Janeway said contritely. “Don't apologize for it. In fact, I'm the one who should be apologizing. You've obviously had a long day, and I would have seen that immediately if I hadn't been so intent on jumping on you as soon as you walked through the door.” She drew back, looking up at the young woman. “Take a seat on the sofa,” she offered in her most persuasive tone. I'll look after dinner.” She poked the Borg with her thumb when she saw the wince. “I'll use one of your programs. Even I can't get that wrong.”

Seven smiled faintly and leaned down, kissing the captain gently. Janeway readily returned it, but she kept it tender rather than passionate. If she wanted this evening to end on a properly physical note between them, she had to slow it down a great deal and indulge her spouse a little. After Seven had retrieved her glass of wine and moved over to the sofa where she sipped it in quiet meditation, Janeway bustled about the quarters, quickly setting the table. Selecting one of the couple's favorite dishes, rather than the extravagant Orion feast she had initially planned, the captain keyed the replicator so that it would not be ready for another twenty minutes. She brought up the lights and blew out the excess candles scattered about the living area, though she left the two on the table burning. Finally, she altered the musical selection from the sensual throbbing to a more peaceful string quartet. Glancing over at her spouse, she noted that the young woman no longer appeared so edgy and restless.

Moving over to where Seven was sitting, Janeway took a position opposite her on the transparent top of the coffee table, reaching down to grasp one of the Borg's ankles. Seven lifted a brow but did not resist as the captain proceeded to remove the Borg's boots and stockings. With both of Seven's long, narrow feet resting in her lap, Janeway began to massage them, studying Seven's face as she pushed her thumbs rhythmically into the fleshy underside. She was relieved when she saw the expression of pleasure ease the tension around the Borg's eyepiece, smoothing out the tiny furrow from between brow and implant.

“I should be doing this for you more often, darling,” she said softly, with a touch of regret.

“It is usually you who requires such attention,” Seven noted. “Your responsibilities are much greater than mine.”

“That doesn't mean you don't need pampering. I think I overlook how much I demand from you, how much you give to this ship, and to me as your captain. You work so hard, and make it look so easy, that I forget it can be as much of a drain on you as it would be on anyone. You're my most precious resource, my darling, both professionally and personally, and if I don't start taking better care of you, you'll have every right to pick me up by the scruff of the neck and throw me out on my ass.”

Seven smiled. “I doubt that would ever happen, Kathryn.”

“I'll just have to make sure it doesn't.” A chime from the replicator indicated their meal was ready, and she carefully placed Seven's feet onto the table. “Stay here,” she instructed. “I'll let you know when everything's ready.”

She went over to the counter and washed her hands in the small sink before retrieving the various dishes from the replicator as they materialized, carrying them over to the table. When everything was set, Seven finally rose from her seat and padded over to the table set beneath the large viewports, her bare feet muffled by the carpet.

“We are not eating in the arboretum?” she asked as she sat down, lifting a brow as Janeway held the chair for her.

“Mmm, I love nature as much as anyone,” Janeway said, somewhat inaccurately as she took her own seat, “but I wanted the stars this night.” She lifted her chin in the direction of a purplish cloud that spread across the heavens beyond the station and the array. “Not to mention that nebula. It's beautiful.”

Seven glanced at it after she finished filling her plate with noodles and sauce. “It is also quite intriguing,” she said, her eyes bright with scientific curiosity. “Long range sensors detect unusual readings originating in the center. The Hearthstone database has very little information about it, perhaps because their space does not extend very far in that direction.”

Janeway offered the Borg a warm smile. “Then I guess I know which course I'll order the ship to take when we depart Hearthstone. That nebula is all yours, my love.”

Seven smiled at the captain's presumption in offering the spatial anomaly as if it were a rose or a box of candy. “A most generous gift, Kathryn.”

“Only the best for my darling,” Janeway said with pompous formality, wringing a bit of a chuckle from the normally humor-challenged Borg.

The captain kept the conversation equally as light for the rest of their meal, utilizing as much of her innate charm on Seven as she would anyone else. She had to remember not to take for granted the wonderful person she had married. It was a sad reality that sometimes it was easier to treat a stranger with more care and consideration than one would a loved one, and Janeway was determined not to fall into that trap.

Later, over coffee and dessert in the living room, they resumed the topic of the nebula. The captain understood only too well that Seven found scientific discussion more entertaining than many other avenues of conversation. Though she sat close to Seven on the sofa, she didn't try to advance things to a physical level, content merely to hold the Borg's hand. She was amply rewarded for her restraint once they went to bed. Seven pulled her close as soon as they had slipped between the sheets, her intent clear and unmistakable.

Janeway groaned at the lovely sensation of warm skin against her own, silky soft as Seven kissed her with slow, languid passion. The captain's hands moved restlessly over the Borg, and the young woman made a soft sound of blissful pleasure, quivering under the caresses while doing her best with her mouth and hands to make Janeway insane with pleasure. Eventually, the captain's nails dug into the Borg's shoulder blades with a little more intensity than was necessary, rapture radiating through her as Seven touched and fondled her. The abruptness of Janeway's climax left her heart racing, the spasms seizing her with unexpected demand.

“Mmm, that was wonderful, love,” she murmured when the tremors gradual subsided. “Did I draw blood?”

Seven twitched slightly, evaluating the information transmitted from the nerves in her back. “I do not believe so, Kathryn. Perhaps your nails are clipped too short.”

Janeway laughed and pulled her close, running her palms over Seven's back to sooth the inflamed skin, then down to her buttocks where she squeezed lovingly. Pressing the Borg down against the mattress, she lazily kissed and licked her way down the lovely length of Seven's torso, paying particular attention to the rosy nipples and the generous swells of her breasts before moving on to the golden juncture of her long legs.

Seven's flavor was mild, with just a touch of salt-sweetness. Janeway adored how the little nodule, so shy and elusive in the beginning, quickly swelled to attention beneath her tongue, almost as if it were offering itself to the captain like a cadet up for review. It still thrilled Janeway to know that only she had been granted the joy of exploring this intimate area of her partner. Perhaps that was why she became so jealous at times. The very thought that anyone else would dare access this tender and delicate region of Seven's body infuriated her beyond reason. This was her privilege, and no one else would ever have it so long as the captain drew breath.

The fingers of the Borg's right hand tangled in Janeway's hair, holding the captain close to her as the pleasure increased in steady waves. Beyond Seven's lovely length, Janeway could hear the soft creak of metal as Seven's implant twisted and pulled on the bar installed at the head of the bed. It was a wonderful counterpoint to the young woman's low cries and moans, an indication that she was rapidly losing control of her senses, that the pleasure Janeway was providing was almost more than she could bear. It made the captain feel powerful, and ironically, humbled at the same time by the knowledge that she could delve so easily beneath that icy Borg exterior and draw out the warm and passionate woman beneath.

“Kathryn. Oh, Kathryn.”

The name was more than a cry in the night. It was an acknowledgment of the special love Seven felt, the total adoration she held for one person, and one person alone. Janeway increased her attention, drawing out the desire for as long as she could, before bestowing that final combination of lips and tongue that she knew would release the rising passion in her partner, that would cause the delicate flutters of uncontrolled physical reaction that Seven simply couldn't resist.

Afterward, Janeway kissed the soft skin of Seven's inner thigh, making her spouse groan, and then crawled up the Borg, settling onto the warm cushion of her larger body to kiss her mouth lovingly. Seven responded lazily, obviously sated from the pleasure Janeway had provided.

“I love you, Seven of Mine,” the captain murmured against her lips.

“I love you, Kathryn,” Seven whispered back as she hugged her tightly. “Forever.”

Janeway kissed her again and then slid off to the side, snuggling against Seven as she rested her head on the blonde's shoulder. It felt so warm and safe in these arms, so very peaceful. She often wondered what she would do without it, particularly when it appeared threatened. Janeway knew she could trust Seven with her whole heart, but there remained the small uncertainty, an insidious belief that the Borg could eventually be drawn to the Elthanian if only given enough time. After all, Tazna was far more attractive than Janeway. Why settle for an old Starfleet officer like her, when someone so alluring and powerful could offer her complete and undivided attention to Seven?

Despite knowing she shouldn't think like that after all this time, and after all they had been through, the doubts lingered no matter how much she tried to deny them. Seven had done all she could to assuage the captain's irrational insecurity. It was up to Janeway to bring it under control and not allow it to touch what she shared with her beloved Borg.

“Kathryn?” The tone was sleepy, almost that of a child.

“Yes, darling?”

“Will we be departing soon?”

“As soon as the array is complete,” Janeway assured her. “The minute after I beam back from the official activation, I'm setting a course out of Confederation space. There's a lot of quadrant out there to be explored, Annika, and I want to do as much of it as I can before we're required to return.”

Seven was silent, but Janeway could feel the satisfaction radiating from her. The captain lifted her head slightly, turning it to kiss the line of Seven's collarbone. “Go to sleep, love,” she encouraged softly. “There's only a few days left. Then it will be you and me exploring the vast unknown ... just as it should be.”

Seven nuzzled her drowsily and settled back against the mattress, her body growing lank beside the captain, her breathing slowing and smoothing out. Janeway held her close, unable to sleep as she watched over her.