Lingering Lamentations
G. L. Dartt
The hum of the warp engines ran along the edge of her consciousness like the familiar ticking of a clock. Any deviation, no matter how slight, would intrude with as much force as a red alert klaxon, allowing her to react instantly to the aberration. She supposed her chief engineer shared that sense with her, and may even have been better at it.
Sighing softly, Captain Kathryn Janeway looked away from the viewport, turning her back on the stars outside, and wearily contemplated her ready room. A half empty coffee mug sat on the low table in front of her and it took a moment before she finally decided it was too cool to bother with. Taking it over to the replicator, she placed the cup there to be recycled, watching as it dissolved into nothingness without really seeing it. When the mug rematerialized, now clean and empty, she picked it up absently.
From the corner of her eye, her gaze lit on the silver thermos that contained her daily ration of the dark brew. It was more than just a thermos. It was a small token of love given to her to start each day. For a week, there had been no special blend of coffee and certainly, no token of caring. There hadn’t been anything.
Taking a seat on the sofa, Janeway back against the cushions as she closed her eyes, the hurt still lingering. She and Seven of Nine had resolved their conflict, at least on the surface, but inside she was still wary, unable to trust where once she had complete faith. This morning had been a perfect example. Seven had reached for her, as she had so many times before this all happened, but Janeway pulled away, offering a false smile of reassurance as she insisted that she had to start her duty shift, though she didn’t think she was fooling Seven for a minute. She had to get over it. Despite Seven’s recent actions, she was the most straightforward and brutally honest person the captain had ever met. She insisted that she had never left Janeway; only that she had needed space and taken some time on her own. Janeway had no reason not to accept that at face value.
Except every time she thought about it, it made her feel ill, and brought the taste of bile to the back of her throat. If only Seven hadn’t fled to a friend, to the beautiful, brilliant Lenara Kahn. If only she hadn’t been exposed to the example of someone who could always be there for her, as opposed to someone who often had to choose duty and career over the wants and needs of her wife.
Shaking her head fretfully at her wayward thoughts, Janeway took a seat and refilled her cup from the thermos. On the table beside it, a padd containing ship specs awaited her attention. This was Janeway’s second year of commanding Starfleet’s transwarp transition vessel, and she had yet to learn everything about her ship’s capabilities. As she reached for it, the sudden chime at her door forestalled her motion. She took an extra second to make sure her command mask was firmly in place before answering the request for admittance.
“Come in.”
The ship’s chief of security, Ro Laren, entered the captain’s ready room. Glancing about the room, she spotted Janeway on the upper level and immediately ascended the short flight of stairs, her lean form moving with a palpable sense of deadly grace. At the captain’s incline of her head, she took a seat in the armchair set at right angles to her.
“My daily security report,” she explained as she handed over a padd.
A strand of dark hair fell over her forehead, and with a gesture of impatience, she tucked it behind her ear. Janeway wondered at what was a rather uncharacteristic display of nerves for Ro and uncertainly, she skimmed the padd’s contents, searching for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing stood out. Placing it on the coffee table, she took a sip from her mug, peering intently over the brim at her officer. Tiny Bajoran ridges on the bridge of Ro’s nose made her look serious, even when she smiled, which wasn’t often. She wasn’t smiling now.
“Anything I’m not seeing here?”
“Such as?” Ro lifted a brow, as if surprised by the question.
“I don’t know. Your expression is a trifle...uneasy.”
“It’s not anything to do with the ship.”
Janeway felt her mouth tighten. “Then perhaps it doesn’t belong here.”
”I don’t want to overstep my bounds, Captain—Kathryn.” Ro dipped her head slightly. “But I consider you and Seven to be good friends, and it’s not as if I can speak with you alone very often where it doesn’t have to be related to ship's business. Despite our improved circumstances, our current situation is still a lot like it was on Voyager’s. We’re never entirely off duty here as we would be if we were on leave in the Alpha Quadrant. I need to take my opportunities when they arise.”
“Is that why you dropped by with the report?” Janeway felt a surge of resentment. “Creating an opportunity?”
“Just following your lead, Captain.”
Janeway regarded her narrowly, unable to deny she had a habit of cornering people and digging into their personal lives whenever she had an urge to meddle. She wondered if her ‘victims’ disliked it as much as she did.
Ro seemed to get a sense of that discomfort and she sighed softly. “Kathryn, it’s obvious that things aren’t back to normal between you and Seven.”
“Is it affecting the ship?”
“Not any longer, not since you two have apparently reconciled, but then, most of the crew is more than happy to take things at face value. I’m not, and never have been. That’s why I’m your security chief.”
“Tuvok never presumed like this.” Janeway’s tone was sharper than she intended and she tried to swallow back her temper.
“On the contrary, Captain, I suspect he did, only with a great deal more subtlety than I’m capable of.” Ro raked her fingers through her hair, the frustration evident. “I’m not just here as your friend, Kathryn, I’m doing my best to act as your unofficial first officer as well, in so far as being someone you can confide in. It’s impossible for Kelly to provide that comfort level for you. But I guess I’m not doing any better.”
Janeway softened at the dismay in Ro’s voice. She supposed she shouldn’t be so opposed to the idea. It was just so difficult to be that open with those under her command, no matter how close she was to them personally. After all, wasn’t that one of her biggest problems with Seven?
“I’m not the easiest captain when it comes to granting that kind of access to my personal life, Laren,” she admitted reluctantly, after a long moment had passed. “I’m old school. A captain is supposed to be above all that.”
“I know, and again, if we were on an ordinary ship, doing ordinary Starfleet missions in the Alpha Quadrant, then I wouldn’t be here. You’d have access to other captains, even civilians on the outside whom you could contact over the comm, but that’s impossible on Millennium.” Ro clasped her hands tightly on her lap. “Kathryn, I just feel like you could use a shoulder right now and if it can’t be me, that’s fine, but don’t let it be because you don’t think you can. We’re all here for you if you need us…me, B’Elanna, Kes, Dr. Pulaski. You don’t ever have to feel as alone here as you did on Voyager.”
“God, you people didn’t get together on this, did you?” Ro’s face altered despite her best effort to remain impassive and Janeway groaned. “And you were the one they chose as their best representative in this?”
Ro looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “Rank has its privileges, I guess.”
“If that’s the case, why isn’t Pulaski here?”
“That’s the rank thing, Captain. She made me do it.” Ro’s expression was a mix of resentment and embarrassment.
Despite herself, Janeway was startled into a rather inelegant snort of laughter. The thought that her crewmembers…though admittedly, those to whom she was closest personally outside of Seven…had felt compelled to do this amused her. And unexpectedly touched her.
“Very well, consider your task fulfilled, Laren, and taken under advisement.” Janeway hesitated briefly, and then nodded. “I do appreciate what you’re offering me. I may take you up on it some time.”
“You only have to ask, Kathryn.” Ro leaned forward earnestly. “Any time.”
“Thank you.”
Ro rose to her feet with a bit of relief in her face, obviously uncomfortable with the situation and taking that as a dismissal. As Janeway watched her glide down the ramp and out the door, there was a brief second when she almost called her back, but in the end, she let her go.
Taking a second to straighten her shoulders beneath her tunic, she strode out of the ready room onto the bridge. The soft sounds of the air ventilation system and the quiet murmurs of the alpha shift at their posts interacting with each other offered a human counterpoint to the constant thrum of the warp engines. She saw that Ro had returned to tactical and was now immersed in something. She didn't look up as the captain entered, and Janeway glanced away as she headed for the command chair. It was located on the raised part of the bridge, overlooking the rest of her staff and oriented directly toward the large viewscreen that dominated the front bulkhead. Now, it was displaying the distorted image of shooting stars, the typical image offered when a ship was traveling at warp. There wasn’t even a nebula or anomaly to break up the monotony of deep space.
Glancing at the chronometer, she realized she had another thirty minutes before the shift changeover to beta. She could log off early, she thought, though the notion of going home didn’t really appeal to her…an uncomfortable thing to acknowledge. Her quarters used to be a haven, a place where she could close the door and forget about being captain for a little while. Now they seemed bleak and empty, even when Seven was there.
Feeling her throat tighten, she rose to her feet. “Commander, you have the bridge.”
She didn’t look to see if her first officer, Keira Kelly would take the conn or not, nor did she notice the sharp look directed her way by Ro. She just needed to get off the bridge, needed to be on the move, feeling restless and unable to settle herself. On the turbolift, she bent her head and closed her eyes, feeling as if the weight of the universe were on her shoulders. It should be getting better, she thought with despair. There was no way she could continue to function like this.
The lift doors hissed open and she lifted her head, the command mask firmly in place. A few passing crewmembers noticed her and nodded respectfully, straightening to attention under her scrutiny. She didn’t demand military discipline, but she was a stickler for details, a by-the-book commander, and her crew knew it, reacting accordingly. She passed them, feeling unusually exposed and vulnerable as she moved briskly down the corridor. She wasn’t even sure where she was headed until she was in front of the large doors of the civilian lounge. This was a quiet area of the ship, unlike the crew lounge a few decks up that most of the crew, both Starfleet and civilian, frequented and usually boasted loud music with a raucous atmosphere. In this lounge, there were few people scattered about the tables and the only sound was the slow tinkle of piano keys from a scientist manning the instrument on a central raised dais.
She moved unobtrusively to the replicator and programmed in a whiskey and soda, briefly hesitating before she overrode the normal synthale parameters and made it the real thing. Sitting in the corner at a quiet table, she sipped her drink. The warmth spread through her and loosened the sharp edge of ice that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her chest. She took another, larger swallow and closed her eyes.
Striding purposefully down the corridor, Seven of Nine felt a little apprehensive as she saw B’Elanna leaving the lab. She had no idea what Millennium's chief engineer would be doing in the science section of the ship, particularly since duty usually kept her too busy to visit on a whim.
“B’Elanna Torres.”
B'Elanna hesitated, and then turned to face the approaching Seven, offering a smile that didn’t quite convey a happiness to see her friend. Seven stopped and assessed her dispassionately, keying on the facial expressions that she knew from experience indicated some form of deception from her friend. B’Elanna contrived to look innocent, faltered, and finally let out her breath in a rush.
“Damn it, you weren’t supposed to catch me.”
“What is your purpose for being here, B’Elanna?”
“I suppose you’ll find out anyway.” B’Elanna crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s ... well, it’s your birthday in a couple of days. We’re ... we’re, ah, planning a surprise party.” She frowned. “Or, it was supposed to be a surprise.”
Seven was charmed, all suspicion swept aside. “A birthday party? For me?”
“Not that you deserve it after the past few weeks,” B’Elanna said sternly and Seven dipped her head as she was reminded painfully of recent events.
“No, I do not deserve it,” she agreed humbly.
Looking somewhat embarrassed that she had brought it up, B’Elanna reached over to clumsily pat Seven on the arm. “Well, water under the bridge, ‘Nik. Time to move on, and hopefully a party will help accomplish that. For all of us.”
“Yes, it will.”
Seven tried very hard to sound like she agreed with that assessment, wishing that indeed, a party would be all that was required to heal the rift existing between her and Kathryn. While the rest of the ship might believe that everything was back to normal with the couple, the reality was quite different. She would have attempted a smile, but knew it would be such a poor parody of one, it would raise more questions than ease any lingering doubts her friend might possess. Right now, she didn’t have the energy to discuss it with B’Elanna, fearing it might make things worse rather than help. Her recent actions had served to subtly undermine Janeway’s command, affecting the ship, and she had no wish to wander down that path any further.
“‘Nik? You okay?”
Seven blinked and focused on her friend. “Of course,” she said with all the firmness she was capable of infusing into her tone. Hopefully, it would be enough for B’Elanna to accept as the end of the conversation. “I must attend to my duties.”
B’Elanna looked slightly doubtful, but she nodded. “Yeah, I have to get back to engineering. I still have a little time before I log off. Carry on, Lieutenant.”
The last was for the benefit of a few junior crewmembers that were passing by. Seven watched B’Elanna walk away before she turned and went through the doors to her lab. Inside, her civilian liaison, Lenara Kahn, was already at the workstation they both favored when performing shared research projects.
Studying her as she moved across the lab, Seven was struck by the notion that Kahn seemed somewhat disturbed. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way, only that there was a certain agitation in her friend’s body language stemming from some unknown source. But when Lenara became aware of her presence, she lifted her head and smiled warmly. Seven decided that she was imagining things, undoubtedly because of her own sense of internal turmoil.
“Biometrics has sent up the last of their reports.”
Seven nodded approvingly. The last planet the ship visited displayed some unusual anomalies in the atmosphere, resulting in unique and varied lower lifeforms. She looked forward to going over the conclusions put forth by the department headed up by Samantha Wildman.
“I expect to find some interesting theories offered by the away team.”
“Particularly from Dr. Anderson.” Lenara lifted a sardonic brow.
Seven smiled faintly. The man in question never went for the simplest, most logical assessment when a convoluted and extravagant one would do. Sometimes Seven wondered how such an individual had ever made it through Starfleet’s rigorous requirements for civilians serving on a starship, but then, she had dealt with equally brilliant and unconventional minds during her time with the Theoretical Propulsion Group. She should be used to it by now. In any event, he was primarily Samantha’s problem and not hers.
“I shall leave it in your capable hands,” Seven said, inclining her head slightly. “I will be in my office for the rest of the afternoon.”
But when she went into her office and took a seat behind the austere desk, she discovered that Lenara had followed her in. Gracefully, without being invited, the willowy woman sank into the seat across the desk, folding her hands neatly on her lap and regarding Seven with grave scrutiny. Intrigued, Seven lifted an eyebrow and waited for the Trill to say something. As she did, she evaluated the woman, appreciating the high cheekbones, the classic features, the dark, deep-set eyes and spattering of elegant spots that ran over her temples and down her neck to disappear beneath the high collar of her white, lab coat. When she realized what she was doing, she felt a decided stab of what might have been guilt and shame pierce her chest. She understood that it was perfectly natural to appreciate another’s beauty purely on an aesthetic level, but there was a fine line, and with the recent events, she did not dare such idle distraction.
“How are you and the captain?”
Seven flinched slightly, ashamed of displaying that much emotion. She was usually under better control than that, particularly outside her quarters. “We are fine.” The words came out harsher than she had intended, defeating the attempt at prevarication.
Lenara regarded her with evident skepticism. “Why are you lying, Seven? It doesn’t become you. Though I do respect that you don’t want to talk about this.”
“Thank you.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t talk about it.”
Seven frowned, feeling her temples begin to ache with a slow, measured throb. “I fail to see what purpose it would accomplish.”
Lenara eyed Seven over the tips of steepled fingers. “Seven, just sharing with a friend can allow for healing.”
“’Just sharing with a friend’ is the crux of the problem.” Seven spoke before thinking. She had no idea where she had picked up such an unfortunate habit and made a note to curb it as soon as possible. Lenara looked vaguely surprised at the comment, but Seven suspected it was more from Seven saying it rather than the content.
“I’m sorry that my offering comfort and support to you as a friend was misconstrued by the captain.”
“It was not only the captain that incorrectly evaluated the situation. Some others in the ship did as well, which is contributing to the difficulty.” Seven felt a sharp pain in her chest. “My actions have interfered with her command. That is unacceptable.”
“Perhaps, but affecting your partner's attitude on the job is usually a component of being involved with someone you work with.” Lenara shook her head. “Life is complicated, Annika. Of course, we like clearly defined boundaries in everything, but frequently they're trod upon, particularly in personal relationships. That doesn’t mean it’s necessarily bad, just part of living.”
“Nonetheless, it was unacceptable,” Seven repeated stubbornly.
“Well, I’m not going to argue about it since you’ve clearly decided it has, but Annika, regardless of what the rest of the ship may or may not think…and believe me, I suspect they think and are affected by it far less than you imagine…you have to do what’s right for you and the captain.”
Seven dropped her head. “What if I do not know what is right for us?” She found it difficult to breathe, a lump rising in her throat. “I want us to return to what we were.”
“Impossible.”
Startled, Seven lifted her head at the flatly intoned words and Lenara returned her gaze sternly, before she appeared to soften slightly, sighing quietly.
“You can’t go back to what you were, Seven. The events of the past few weeks have changed the both of you in ways that can’t be undone. You can only move forward to the couple you will be. Life is a matter of constant growth and change. Only a fool resists or denies it. Because of what’s happened, you and the captain are now different people, and you both have to figure out how the two new people you are will be together.”
That was profoundly disturbing to Seven, even as she found it difficult to deny the assessment. “Who are we now?” she asked plaintively.
Lenara patted her arm with apparent fondness. “That’s part of the discovery process, I’m afraid. I can’t tell you. You need to talk this over with the captain.”
“But lately it is clear that she does not want to talk to me.”
Lenara nodded as if she knew exactly what Seven was talking about. Odd, since Seven felt adrift in a sea of confusion. “She’s afraid, Seven.”
“Afraid? Of me?”
“Of this newness between you, and of what might happen next. She probably doesn’t know what to say and is afraid to say the wrong thing…the thing that will drive you away.”
Seven felt a sudden, irrational anger at the other woman. “She could never say anything that would drive me away.” The words were bitten off with ferocity.
Lenara blinked, but her tone was mild. “I know that, but right now, she doesn’t. Not deep down. Not where it counts. It’s up to you to make sure she does.”
“How?”
“Sorry, Seven, I can only come up with the theory. I’m not so good at practical application.” Her smile was bittersweet.
Seven’s disappointment was acid in her throat, though she didn’t know why she had expected answers from someone else. “I fear that is not my greatest strength, either.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Seven. You’re a great deal stronger than most people know.”
Seven thought that was self-evident and not precisely helpful. Lenara seemed to read her thoughts in her expression and smiled wryly. “I meant emotionally, Seven, not because you’re Borg and physically superior. You have a big heart. You just have to listen to it and let it guide you.”
Seven considered it. “I have been trying,” she confessed, “but I do not appear to be making any discernable progress.”
“Progress isn’t always immediate or visible. You, as a scientist, should know that.”
“This is not a particularly scientific endeavor.” Her tone was more disgruntled than she meant it to be. Lenara laughed.
“No, I don’t suspect it is. It’s messy and complicated. That’s why I prefer the lab. Things are nice and clear and well defined here.”
Seven could not disagree, but she knew that for the moment, she could not grant it any more attention than she already had. Others were already glancing curiously through the transparency that separated the office from the lab, curious about their superiors so deep in discussion and their duties that had been left unattended for an unacceptable period.
Seven needed to get back to work. At least there, she possessed some measure of control.
“We have to plan a surprise party for Seven.”
Ro Laren blinked as she came through the door, regarding her spouse of two years uncertainly. “What?”
“Seven caught me, and now I have to plan a surprise party.”
B’Elanna looked more than a little disgusted with herself, but Ro focused on the crucial bit of information revealed in that sentence. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared at B’Elanna. “Caught you doing what?”
B’Elanna threw out her hands as she paced about the couple’s quarters. “That’s not important. What’s important is that when I ran into her outside the lab, I had to come up with something and that’s all I could think of.”
Ro had not become chief of security for one of Starfleet’s elite vessels by being obtuse. “What were you doing in the lab?”
“Will you focus?” B’Elanna snapped with exasperation. “How the hell are we going to plan a surprise party in two days?”
“What do you mean ‘we’?” Ro tilted her head. “B’Elanna, what did you do?”
The Klingon, finally pinned down by her spouse’s uncompromising stare, exhaled audibly. “I may have had a little chat with Lenara Kahn when I was passing by the lab.”
Now Ro was truly alarmed. “What kind of ‘little chat’? Not the kind that you had with Angela James on Voyager?!”
“No.” B’Elanna hesitated. “Not exactly.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe a little.”
“Oh, Prophets.” Ro leaned feebly against the wall, staring at her partner in horror. “Why would you do something like that?”
“I just wanted her to be clear on the fact that she has no chance with Seven and is never going to have a chance with Seven.”
Ro was nonplused. “And how did she respond?”
“She didn’t seem too disturbed,” B’Elanna admitted, with some dissatisfaction. “If anything, she seemed ... amused.”
“Count your lucky stars.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ro let out her breath in a huff. “Lanna, Kahn’s a civilian. It’s bad enough when you have those little ‘chats’ with other officers, but when it comes to civilians on board ship, you need to be a lot more careful.”
The Klingon considered it, apparently not liking the assessment much but having to accept its validity. “Fine, I won’t do it again.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“I mean it this time.”
The security chief continued to stare at her. “On your honor?”
B’Elanna frowned mightily, but finally dipped her head grudgingly. “Fine. On my honor. Happy?”
“Not at all,” Ro said honestly, “but I guess I’ll have to settle for it. Damn it, B’Elanna—”
“On my honor, Laren!” Ro hesitated and B’Elanna tilted her head slightly, regarding her with serious eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Ro rubbed the ridges on the bridge of her nose. “Okay. No harm done, I guess. What the hell were you doing ‘passing by the lab’ anyway? You don’t need to be anywhere near the science decks.”
B’Elanna managed to look bashful, a decidedly unnatural expression for her craggy, Klingon features. “I was by sickbay this morning.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing like that.” B’Elanna held up her hands to calm her partner. “It was just a checkup. To see how things are going.”
Ro faltered, and suddenly felt weak, groping for a seat on the nearby sofa. “Any news?” B’Elanna hesitated, but a small grin played about the corners of her mouth and Ro felt an extremely odd sensation in the pit of her stomach, half joy, half sheer terror. “‘Lanna?”
“According to Pulaski, it took. We’re three weeks along.”
Ro felt her cheeks ache and realized she must be smiling as broadly as her partner was. It was an unfamiliar sensation but one she didn’t want to end. B’Elanna moved toward her, stopping in front of her, and Ro leaned forward, slipping her arms around her waist and pressing her cheek against the still flat stomach. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could hear the extra heartbeat inside, even as she knew it was impossible to hear anything, or so soon, for that matter. Above her, B’Elanna gently stroked her hair, fingers tangling lightly in the dark strands streaked with an occasional thread of silver.
“You’re happy?” Ro asked, a little anxiously.
“I’m ecstatic. This is what we were hoping for, what we planned for, Laren.”
“And this is just the beginning, my mate.
B’Elanna’s laugh was full-bodied. “Don’t think I don’t know that. A little girl with our stubbornness and determination all mixed together? Kahless, we’ll be lucky if we survive it.”
Drawing back from B’Elanna’s abdomen, Ro looked up at her and tightened her arms about her waist. “Are we thinking of names yet?”
“How about it gets bigger than a peanut before we start doing that.”
Ro studied her face, her smile fading. “You worried, love?”
There was a brief hesitation, various emotions chasing each other across the olive features, too fast for Ro to decipher them all, before they settled into a rueful expression that mixed with slight apprehension. “Not exactly. It’s just…if something goes wrong…”
“You don’t want to be too attached,” Ro concluded. “Naming her…”
“Laren, she’ll be a hybrid, like me, and we both know that for every success in crossing species, there are three instances that have problems…”
Ro stood up and enfolded her into a strong embrace. “Darling, nothing’s going to go wrong. You’re in perfect health, Dr. Pulaski is the best doctor around, not to mention having an extremely over qualified EMH to back her up. And as for being a hybrid, that’s only to our little girl’s benefit. She will have the very best genes of Bajor, Klingon and Terran in her and that can only make her beautiful, capable and strong. Honestly, love, she’ll be here before you know it.”
B’Elanna held onto her tightly. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m just….” Her voice was muffled from where she had it buried into Ro’s neck and managed a bit of a strained laugh. “Maybe it’s hormones.”
“Maybe.” Though she kept her tone mild because B’Elanna had only given voice to Ro’s own fears and secret doubts. Still, one of them had to be the positive one in this situation, and while they would undoubtedly take turns in the upcoming months, right now, it was Ro’s turn. They held each other for a long moment before drawing back to exchange a long, slow kiss, one of hope, reassurance and commitment. Afterward, B’Elanna nestled in her arms and Ro felt that the crisis was over…for the moment.
“What are we going to do about the captain and Seven?”
Ro resisted the urge to sigh. “Are you sure we should do anything?” She didn’t want to tell her about her unsuccessful conversation with the captain. “They’re adults, after all, and perfectly capable of handling things themselves.”
“If that were the case, they’d already be back together.” B’Elanna frowned, her brow furrowing. “Ro, I’ve never seen them like this. It’s like they don’t know how to even start to fix it.”
“Maybe all they need is time.”
“Maybe all they need is a little help.”
“Like what?” Ro doubted she would like what she was about to hear.
“They need to get off by themselves for a while. Be alone with no distractions from the ship.” Conviction gleamed brightly in B’Elanna’s dark eyes.
Ro offered a wry chuckle. “Lots of luck there. In case you hadn’t noticed, ‘Lanna, we’re out in the middle of the beta quadrant, with no back up in sight and a mission that’s going to last another few months at least.”
“Then we’re going to have to find a way to make it happen.” B’Elanna slipped out of Ro’s embrace and began to pace the living the living area of their quarters. Suspecting this would take a while, Ro exhaled softly and resumed her seat on the sofa, leaning back to watch her spouse pace.
“We need to get them into the holodeck…no, a shuttle, and arrange a little ‘malfunction’.”
Apparently, it wasn’t going to take long at all for B’Elanna to come up with a plan of attack…an outrageous one, at that. Ro frowned, a sense of foreboding strong within her. “Lanna, I don’t know about this…”
B’Elanna stopped and turned to face her, her jaw set in that way Ro knew so well. “It’ll be a piece of cake, Laren. If they’re trapped on a shuttle in vacuum, then they’ll have to talk to each other.”
“How are you going to get them onto a shuttle and out into space?” Ro asked reasonably.
B’Elanna offered her a meaningful look. “That’ll be your job. An emergency, maybe?”
Ro felt her mouth go dry. “Trick the captain with an emergency mission just to get her alone with Seven? Prophets, there goes any hope of my becoming a first officer anytime soon.” B’Elanna made a face and Ro firmed her mouth. “You have to take into account all the consequences for this, Lanna, not just what might happen in the best-case scenario where they end up back together and happy and don’t hold us accountable for acting in a completely unprofessional manner.”
“What if we bring Pulaski into this? She might have a few ideas.”
“And if she takes the blame, there’s not much the captain can do to her because the doctor carries the rank of admiral? Way to take responsibility, Lanna.”
A pained expression crossed B’Elanna’s olive features. “You really don’t want to do this, do you?”
“It was hard enough to talk to the captain this afternoon.” Ro raked her fingers through her hair, leaving it disarrayed, and added for the benefit of B’Elanna’s expectant expression, “It didn’t have much effect.”
“Oh.” The engineer’s disappointment was palpable.
Ro rose from the sofa and went over to her, slipping her arms around her waist. B’Elanna snuggled into her embrace, nuzzling her neck somewhat sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, baby. I just want my friends to be happy.”
“I know.” Ro rested her chin on the top of her head and stared at the far bulkhead. “We just have to trust that they’ll find their way back on their own.”
B’Elanna was silent for a moment. “Or help them find it.”
Ro sighed.
Janeway stumbled a bit when she entered the turbolift and realized that she had drunk far more than she should. Her equilibrium wasn’t all it should be and a part of her was dismayed at her apparent lack of control. She was a starship captain, damn it, and she needed to be better than this.
With an effort, she straightened her shoulders and thrust back the dizziness that danced lightly around her vision. As the doors hissed open, she strode purposefully along the corridor leading to her quarters, knowing it was very late and she had undoubtedly missed dinner. She hoped Seven wasn’t too annoyed, but on the other hand, perhaps that would lead to a fight, and it was possible a loud, knockdown, drag out fight was exactly what they needed. God knew nothing else was working.
But the quarters were quiet when she entered and she surveyed them with a frown. There was a plate beneath a stasis field on the counter to her right and she eyed it a moment before moving over to deactivate the field. It was corn and potato casserole, her favorite. Too bad she wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. Picking it up, she carried it over to the replicator and disposed of it, the plate dissolving into a flash of sparkles.
In the doorway of the bedroom, she paused when she saw the mound on the left side of the bed, the blonde head just barely about the covers that had been pulled up over her shoulder. For a moment, the feelings were so strong…a mix of love and longing and anger and ache…that Janeway’s knees went weak and she had to lean against the wall. Gazing yearningly at the slender form of her spouse, she wanted nothing more than to fall into Seven’s embrace, to crawl into her arms and shut out everything that hurt. Unfortunately, that sanctuary was denied her, so long as the source of all her pain was Seven herself.
Janeway swallowed back a sound of pure agony and moved silently through the bedroom into the ensuite where she listlessly prepared for sleep, removing her uniform and running it through the replicator to renew it before donning an oversized t-shirt. Out in the bedroom, she hesitated briefly before quietly pulling back the covers and sliding between the sheets. She carefully rolled over on her side, facing away from Seven, though she felt her heart ache when her spouse didn’t stir a millimeter. Obviously, this was far less bothersome to her than it was to Janeway.
Stiff, every muscle rigid, Janeway doubted she’d be able to fall asleep. Lying there in the darkness, she listened to the regular respiration of her spouse, feeling as if life would never be the same for her. Then somehow, between one breath and the next, she was asleep, or at least, unconscious to the world. Wakefulness took some time, a drowsy spell where her body showed a decided preference for not waking up at all. When the sharp edge of awareness finally did arrive, she realized why she had been so reluctant. A headache dug into her temples, sharp shards of pain that made her whimper softly and reach out for her spouse, wanting Seven to do something: retrieve a hypospray from the doctor, offer a soothing massage to her temples, just hold her like she used to do and if not ease the agony, then make it easier to bear.
Except the bed was empty with Janeway’s seeking hand finding only bare and cold sheets. The emptiness inside her seemed to expand, and with an effort, she opened her eyes.
Everything was unfamiliar and she sat upright so quickly that the sharp throbbing in her temples almost made her vomit. For a moment, nausea warred with the darkness edging her vision before she could bring both under control with a massive effort of mental energy. Carefully, she opened her eyes once more and took in her surroundings.
On a second survey, it turned out they weren’t unfamiliar after all, yet remained horribly out of place. She was lying in her bed in the captain’s quarters…on Voyager.
She shook her head slightly, an absurd attempt to bring things back to the reality she knew. Nothing changed. The bed was not as large as she remembered, but then, the bed she had slept in for four years had been smaller, hadn’t it. She hadn’t requisitioned a larger one until…
Until Seven had moved in.
“Computer.” Her voice was sharp, tinged with the slightest trace of panic. “What's the Stardate?”
“It is Stardate 51369.6.”
“Impossible.”
She didn’t realize she had spoken out loud until the sound of her voice echoed in her ears, though the computer did not deign to answer. She slipped from the bed and stood up, the deck cold beneath her feet. Looking down at herself, she realized she was wearing a peach silk nightgown, something she hadn’t been in the habit of doing since discovering she had a decided preference for having her night clothes torn from her body by superior Borg strength. She distinctly remembered putting on a t-shirt the night before. Of course, she also distinctly remembered going to bed on Millennium and the Stardate being six years later. Was she dreaming? Frowning, she pinched herself on the forearm, disappointed at the sharp pain that resulted. On the other hand, she had experienced extremely lucid dream states before, usually at the hands of alien intervention. Then there were other possibilities.
“Computer, command prerogative double blue dash seven nine. End program.”
No response and nothing changed. No luck there.
Could this be an actual temporal distortion? If so, there had been no warning, but if it were a type not before encountered, there wouldn’t necessarily be an alert from the bridge or the science decks prior to its occurrence.
Was she the only one affected? She reached for the communicator lying on the nightstand, stopped, thought about it and slowly drew back her hand. If this was a temporal distortion of some kind and she had been transported back six years into the Delta Quadrant, then there were certain rules and regulations that had to be followed, and they didn’t always include letting others know there was a time traveler in their midst. She struggled to remember what exactly had been going on six years earlier.
“Computer, please play back the last two days of Captain’s Logs, including any personal ones.”
Twenty minutes later, her memory was refreshed about the incident with the Mari, a telepathic race who had arrested B’Elanna for improper violent thoughts while the captain had been pressed to the limit to find a way to free her. If it hadn’t been for the efforts of Tuvok and other members of her crew, it might have ended quite differently, with B’Elanna’s mind wiped and the Mari still oblivious to the trafficking in violent thoughts in their ‘perfect’ crime free society.
In seventeen days, if she remembered correctly, items would begin to disappear from the ship, equipment and weapons taken by a high-energy transport beam, including a holodeck program that contained the personality of Leonardo DaVinci. She could order that space avoided, of course, but that would change the past, or rather, the future…her headache, which had been easing slightly, returned in full force. She hated temporal anomalies with a passion.
Why was she here? It was her experience that time travel didn’t just happen, something usually caused it and for a reason. And that reason had to be addressed before things could return to normal. She strained to remember any other events that had occurred in the upcoming days but failed to come up with anything of significance. It had been a relatively quiet stretch of space, as was often the case. Her life on Voyager…all their lives…had been nothing more than stretches of tedium and boredom interspersed with intense incidents of danger, destruction and death. There had been nothing unusual during this period, but then, if the timeline had been altered or tampered with without her knowledge at the time, she wouldn’t necessarily remember. The ‘she’ who existed at that time had been replaced with the person she would become six years later.
God, she was going around in circles at this point. Nor did it help that she was suddenly very hungry. That would teach her for bypassing the dinner that had been left out for her. She headed for the door, hoping that Seven had left her something for breakfast before it struck her sharply that at this period, she and Seven were not a couple. They had yet to even indicate a romantic interest in each other, though God knew, it had certainly been stirring in Janeway at the time.
Strength draining from her, she had to take a seat in the chair facing the foot of the bed. As she did, she remembered how Seven and she had sat there all those years ago, discussing how they would embark on a relationship and how the captain had resisted so hard only to find, as she would so many times in the future, that resistance to this Borg was completely futile. Despite herself, a smile lifted the corners of her lips and Janeway entertained the possibility that she would have to do it all over again. The rest of it would undoubtedly drive her mad if she was forced to relive too much; the confrontations with the Hirogen and the Vaadwaur, the loss of crewmembers, the struggle to keep going in the Delta Quadrant, all the while knowing what was going to happen and helpless to change it without potentially causing something much worse to happen. But being with Seven again? Watching her grow and learn, loving her with all her heart as Seven loved her…no, that wouldn’t be bad at all.
But it would be so very difficult not to display any kind of fore knowledge until she managed to find a way to return to her own time. She would just have to play it by ear, fitting into the role of being who she’d been then. She exhaled audibly. Trying to keep all the tenses straight would be an irritating, yet ongoing reality.
She stood up and went into the ensuite where she found a uniform waiting for her. She couldn’t remember if she had been in the habit of putting one out for herself. She thought it had been Seven who started that tradition. After taking a quick shower…a much shorter ration of hot water than she was used to on Millennium…she pulled on the uniform and went out into the living area. The coffee from the replicator was just as bad as she remembered it, devoid of caffeine and all the other good stuff that only the real thing possessed. God, it would be months before Seven learned how to make a decent cup after a Bajoran orb teleported her, Chakotay and B’Elanna to Deep Space Nine where Phoebe would teach her the special Janeway recipe.
Stiffening her shoulders, she finished her breakfast, forced down the tepid coffee, and headed for the bridge. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d do once she got there, but hopefully it would come to her. As the turbolift ascended, she worried that she couldn’t remember if she had gone to the bridge on this day. Finally, she accepted the impossibility of her being able to duplicate her actions entirely. It would be hard enough to remember exactly what she had done during the various major crises that would occur in the future. There was no way she could remember the little details of day-to-day existence. She would just have to follow her routine as best she could and hoped she didn’t make a mistake that attracted attention.
She suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable as the turbolift door slid open to reveal the familiar confines of Voyager’s bridge. She paused briefly, absorbing the sight and sounds of her old ship, of being with her old crew. To her left, Tuvok monitored the security station, while across from him, a younger and considerably thinner Harry Kim monitored operations. Down on the main level, the solid build of Commander Chakotay was settled in the command chair while at the helm, located in the foremost part of the bridge and dominated by the large viewscreen looming over it, Tom Paris skillfully piloted the ship.
Careful, she thought, as she nodded briefly in greeting to her security chief. Gracefully descending the short flight of stairs, she eyed Chakotay as he relinquished his seat to her.
“Good morning, Captain.”
“Good morning,” she said, taking her position as he sat down beside her a split second later.
“Report.”
“On course for the alpha quadrant,” Chakotay said pleasantly. “All systems normal.”
“Good.” Before she quite realized what she was doing, she had accessed the small console in the arm of her chair and was going over the status reports of the ship. Routine had a strong influence on her, she decided ruefully, much stronger than she consciously realized. She supposed it wasn’t much wonder that she hated change so much in her personal life. Yet, the protocol and routine imposed on this vessel would make it easier for her to maintain her secret for as long as possible.
Then the hiss of the turbolift doors caught her attention and she turned to her right, looking over her shoulder. She felt her breath catch as she saw the unmistakable form of Seven of Nine in the turbolift and thought suddenly that she wouldn’t be able to maintain her secret at all.
Not with the woman she loved so close…and yet so very far away.
Seven groaned softly, feeling a throbbing in her temples that was almost blinding in its intensity. Opening her eyes, she was surprised and shocked to find herself standing upright…and in a Borg regeneration cubicle. Immediately, she wrenched herself away from the alcove and stumbled from the dais, feeling as if her worst nightmare had come true, almost falling to the metal deck before she regained her footing. Shakily, she teetered on unfamiliar spike heels, staring down at herself and seeing not the grafted cybernetic parts and space-black armor as she initially feared, but rather, a brown biosuit that had not resided in her wardrobe for years. Relief ran strong and swift throughout her body. She did not yet know where she was and what was happening to her but at the very least, she had not been assimilated.
With an effort, she calmed her breathing and looked around, absorbing the sight of containers and the line of four Borg alcoves, a workstation and storage boxes. It was at once incredibly strange and altogether too familiar. It was Cargo Bay Two.
What was she doing on Voyager? And dressed as she had before she joined Starfleet? Confusion reigned and she forced herself to remain still, to reason out what had suddenly become unreasonable. The last thing she remembered was lying in her bed in her quarters on Millennium. Unhappy and confused, she had remained still as she heard the captain enter their quarters, listening as she picked up the plate of dinner left for her and disposed of it, apparently uneaten, in the replicator. Heard her as she crossed the living area to the bedroom where she stood in the doorway for some time, watching her. Seven had wanted to turn over, to reach out her hand and ask Janeway to join her, but was too afraid of being rejected yet again. So, she remained silent, pretending to be asleep.
The bed dipped several minutes later, after Janeway had spent time in the ensuite preparing for bed, and then Seven felt her roll as far away from her as possible, back to her, clearly not wanting any contact at all. Seven wept silent tears, convinced that nothing would ever be right again and certain that she would spend yet another night in wide-awake misery, when suddenly, and inexplicably, she was asleep.
And now she was here. Nothing made sense. Was this a temporal distortion of some kind, sweeping her from her bed and throwing back into the past? She placed her hand on her stomach, dismayed to feel ridges beneath the thin fabric of the biosuit. If she had somehow been transported back in time, why did she now have the abdominal implant that had been removed in her second year on Voyager? Had only her consciousness been transported?
Or was this a nightmare of some kind? A fantasy?
Frowning, she lifted her chin. “Computer, end program.”
Nothing happened and somehow, she wasn’t surprised. Life had never been that easy for her.
“Computer, what is the Stardate?”
“It is Stardate 51369.6.”
This was very bad and all she could think of was that she had to report to the captain. She took a step forward and nearly fell again, twisting her ankle slightly in the type of heel that had not been worn for years…or at least, not since the last time Janeway had taken her out to a formal dinner. Even then, Seven preferred lower heels, both for comfort and the fact that she did not like towering over her spouse while dancing. As it was, she could not believe she had ever found this an efficient way to maneuver. The Doctor must have been insane to design such footwear and at the time, she had simply not known any better.
She would just have to adapt, she told herself firmly. Starting off more cautiously, she wobbled her way out of the cargo bay and into the corridor. Crewmembers passed by, faces she had not encountered in years, including one she would never see in the Alpha Quadrant because he wouldn’t make it back. She had an incredible urge to stop and say something to him, which would not only be completely out of character for her now, but would also be a complete violation of the Temporal Prime Directive.
Ah yes, the Temporal Prime Directive. She worried at it as the turbolift carried her to the bridge. Perhaps she could not report to the captain, after all. If there was some reason for Seven to have been displaced in time, some mission for her to carry out, perhaps it was imperative that she not tell anyone what was happening until she knew more…and that included her beloved spouse.
Her breath suddenly caught as the doors hissed open and she froze. She and the captain were not involved at this juncture of time. As a matter of fact, Seven was still a figure of some suspicion for most of the crew, including Janeway to a certain extent. If she began acting oddly, or at least, more oddly than they were used to, she could find herself in the brig where she would be unable to do anything at all to extricate herself from this very vexing situation.
“Seven?”
Tuvok was regarding her curiously and Seven realized that she had been standing for too long on the turbolift. Janeway had risen to her feet and was looking at her, while Chakotay loomed mere inches behind the captain.
“I…” Seven hesitated. She should have taken more time to regain her bearings, she berated herself, rather than rushing to see the captain. Her first instinct to seek out Kathryn had been so strong it had overridden her intelligence. It was far from being the only time it had ever happened, she knew, but right now, it could prove a most costly mistake.
“Are you all right, Seven?”
The captain’s voice was deep and concerned. Seven stared at her. Was there something in the captain’s gaze? No, she had to be imagining it. Janeway had always been more considerate of her than she was to other crewmembers. Of course, there was an obvious reason for that in retrospect, but she shouldn’t have known it then, nor could she respond to the kindness as she wanted. The headache that had been receding surged back with renewed determination. Thinking both in past and present terms could be enough to destroy her cortical node, and she decided it would be better only to think in present terms and forget about the future for a while.
In the meantime, she had to decide, formulate a plan.
“May I see you in your ready room, Captain?” she asked finally, after taking far too long to come up with something to say.
Janeway frowned, but dipped her head slightly in assent. “Of course.”
She led the way and Seven followed, abruptly conscious of Chakotay’s eyes on them. He looked as if he expected Seven to assimilate the captain right in front of him and she realized she didn’t miss that look at all. She also recognized that, at the time, she never would have noticed it, nor accorded it any emotion whatsoever since his opinion was of absolute no value to her. Therefore, she should not look or feel the slightest bit hurt by such condemnation. He was not the only one on the vessel who distrusted her. She made a mental note to avoid B’Elanna for as long as possible, afraid she would find any attempt by the Klingon to be rude to her rather amusing, something that would only exacerbate the situation.
Inside the ready room, the captain took a seat behind the desk and looked up at her. Seven was about to sit in the chair facing her when she realized that was not what she was supposed to do. Instead, she forced herself to link her hands behind her back and stand at attention, even as she knew it would give Janeway a kink in her neck.
“Seven, please take a seat.”
Seven resisted the urge to smile and attempted to look baffled. “Take it where?”
The captain closed her eyes and a trace of what might have been disappointment crossed her elegant features. Seven had to remind herself not to react. Just because she was extremely adept at reading Janeway’s expressions now, she had not been then. She had to be very careful.
“Please, sit down, Seven.”
Seven hesitated a moment, and then sat down in the chair, arranging herself with precise attention to both posture and form, knowing it would not do to look too graceful or comfortable. After all, she supposedly had known this woman…and humanity…for only a very brief time.
“What do you wish to see me about?” Janeway leaned forward, linking her hands onto the desk and regarding her with keen eyes. Seven’s memory of doing the most inappropriate and sensual things on that desk made the heat rise in her cheeks, much to her horror. She hoped the pinkness of her face was not apparent to the captain.
Worse, now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say. Desperately, she cast about, trying to come up with something.
“I wish to discuss…” Seven faltered. She was horrible at this. The only way she could keep from being exposed would be to avoid contact with everyone, especially this woman.
“Yes?”
Janeway’s eyes were narrowed and they assessed her with somewhat chilly dispassion. Seven realized it had been some time since she had experienced that. Frantically, she searched for a scenario and failed utterly, falling back finally on what had served her for so much of her existence…the complete and unvarnished truth.
“Captain, there has been a temporal incursion.”
Janeway blinked and looked surprised. “How so?” Her tone was sharp.
“I am not the Seven you know. I am actually from the future.”
Janeway let out her breath slowly, looking Seven up and down. Her gaze lingered for a long moment on her midsection and Seven wondered why…it usually lingered a bit higher under normal circumstances, even in this period…before those keen bluish gray eyes rose to meet hers squarely.
“Explain.”
“I am actually from six years in the future.”
“I see. And what has caused you to return to this time?”
Seven shook her head. “I do not know. I experienced a period of unconsciousness and when I regained awareness, I was in my Borg alcove here on Voyager. I am unaware of any significant situation now that would cause such an event. I did not experience any sense of displacement or physical anomaly aside from a headache, which is now subsiding.”
“Where were you when this happened? In the future, I mean?” Janeway was once again staring at Seven’s midsection.
Seven became cautious. The thought of alien intervention occurred to her. Perhaps she had been captured and placed in a simulation in order to elicit information about Millennium. Voyager and its varied missions were a matter of public record in the Alpha Quadrant, and to a certain extent, now in the Beta Quadrant due to the information databases exchanged with the Confederation so a believable re-creation could be done by someone with enough advanced holographic technology. It was unlikely, but possible.
“Another vessel,” she replied shortly.
Janeway tilted her head. “In the Alpha Quadrant?”
Seven wanted to smile. The captain’s resolve to get her ship home had never wavered, and it would not be unlike her to want to know if they eventually returned even though, she knew as well as anyone, the dangers in knowing future outcomes.
“No, I was not in the Alpha Quadrant,” she replied honestly.
To her surprise, that did not dampen the captain’s intensity. Instead, a light of what Seven could only determine was eagerness suddenly appeared in Janeway’s eyes.
“The Beta Quadrant, by any chance? On a ship called Millennium that's currently on a year-long mission to explore that area?”
Seven blinked and was forced to swiftly re-evaluate her situation.
“Kathryn?”
Janeway exhaled audibly and stood up, circling the desk. Seven had barely enough time to rise so that she could capture her in a strong embrace that was fiercely returned.
“Oh, God, Seven, it is you. I didn’t know…your abdominal implant made me think I was dealing with a Seven from another timeline.”
“What is happening, Kathryn?”
“I don’t know, darling, but we’ll find out.” Janeway’s facial features were set into utter determination and authority, an expression Seven had been missing for far too long. It thrilled to hear the commanding tone and suddenly, she had the unmistakable, if illogical, feeling that everything was going to be all right after all.
“Do you think anyone else has been brought back in time?”
They were sitting on the couch on the upper level of the ready room, close enough to touch but not so close as to be inappropriate should someone enter without warning. Though, if Janeway remembered correctly, Seven was the only one who ever had a habit of coming into her ready room without an invitation.
She considered it. “I think it would have to be someone who not only serves on Millennium in the future, but also on Voyager now. That leaves out Kes, but it does include B’Elanna, Ro, Tom Paris, Samantha Wildman, and the Doctor. And if they remember their Temporal Prime Directive, they’re doing exactly what we’re doing, trying to keep a low profile, playing the role of their past selves and doing their best to figure out what’s going on.”
Seven glanced down at her body, specifically her stomach. “Kathryn, we haven’t entirely been transported back in time. I believe I am a consciousness in the physical manifestation of the person I was then…now.”
“I think you're right, though heaven knows, I certainly don’t feel any younger in this body.” Seven smiled at the observation and Janeway laughed quietly. “You’re going to have to stop that, you know. In this time, it’s not in your nature to smile or even look cheerful in any way.”
Seven’s smile disappeared as her ocular implant lifted slightly. “You are correct. It will be very difficult for me to maintain secrecy.”
Janeway reached over and took her hand. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”
“Let us hope so.” Seven bent her head, her expression thoughtful. “Kathryn, regarding the others you mentioned who may also have been transported, you neglected to mention Naomi Wildman. If her future consciousness has been displaced, she now exists within a very young child’s body. That could have extremely damaging consequences.”
“God, you’re right. It’ll be a lot harder for a teenaged Naomi to play the role of a two-year-old child if she’s also been transported. We’d better check on her first. Though if her mother has also been transported back, together, they’ll be able to keep a lid on it for a while.”
“But not for long,” Seven pointed out. “Neelix is very attentive to the child in this time. He will discover an anomaly in his friends very quickly.”
Janeway let go of Seven’s hand and rubbed her eyes with her palms. “In a way, I hope it’s only us, darling. It would make things less complicated.”
“It would,” Seven agreed.
And there was a part of Janeway that was very much enamored with the idea of just her and her spouse against the universe. All the angst and hurt had been set aside in unspoken agreement, a silent pact to work together as they confronted this complicated situation. It was a matter of necessity, of course, but for the captain, it made her feel strong again, in a way she hadn’t felt in some time. Though if she cared to examine it, it raised the immediate question of why she had been hanging onto her hurt and the anger so long. Especially if it could so easily be set aside, and with a sense of overwhelming relief rather than any fear that she would be hurt again. She decided she’d better not go down that road any further now. It was neither the place…nor the time.
“I want you to check on Naomi, Samantha and B’Elanna. I’ll check on the Doctor, Ro and Tom Paris. Once we determine how many are involved in this time shift, then we’ll start analyzing the data in the hopes it will give us a clue as to what exactly is going on and why.”
“Understood.” Seven paused. “Kathryn, it is not only because the situation will be less complicated that I hope it is only us that is affected. I want to be in this situation with only you, and I know that together, we stand a much better chance of solving it than apart.”
Janeway felt her heartbeat quicken, warmth spreading through her. “I believe that, as well. I just wish it wasn’t so hard to keep from kissing you.”
Seven started to say something, hesitated, and then leaned forward to press her lips firmly against Janeway’s. It caught Janeway by surprise, but it wasn't unwelcome. How long had it been since they’d kissed like this? How long since she’d felt these strong arms around her, holding her close, protecting her, keeping her safe? Moaning softly, she slipped her arms around the slender shoulders, clinging to her tightly. It was like coming home, and she wondered why she had denied herself of it for so long. Was pride and hurt worth losing any of this?
“Do not ever resist your need to kiss me,” Seven whispered softly when they finally parted, resting her forehead against Janeway’s. “Please.”
Janeway exhaled quietly, feeling a sort of relaxation seep through her body. “We have to be careful, darling, but I promise, once this is finished, no more foolishness from me about our relationship. I can’t even remember why I was being so stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Seven corrected immediately. “You were hurt and rightfully so.”
“But I can’t afford to let it control my actions any longer.” Janeway drew back and smiled somewhat painfully at her. “In the meantime, we have to remember where and when we are.”
“Not a couple,” Seven acknowledged somewhat sadly. “Not lovers and perhaps, not even friends at this point.”
Janeway cupped her cheek in her palm, feeling the warmth of her smooth skin. “Always friends, my love. Always.”
“And always my captain.”
“That, too.” They grinned at each other, and Janeway was about to kiss her again when the chime from her door interrupted the thought. She offered a rueful look and drew back her hand, the warmth of Seven lingering in her fingers and palm. With an effort, she put some more distance between herself and Seven on the sofa. “Come.”
Chakotay entered the ready room, glancing around before he spotted the women on the upper level. He eyed Seven with an odd expression as he ascended the short flight of stairs, and Janeway felt herself bristling defensively. Chakotay had been extremely wary of Seven in this time, and while she couldn’t haul off and belt him for it, she certainly wanted to. As it was, it made her tone a bit sharper than it should be. “What is it, Commander?”
Seven shot her a look, but didn’t say anything as she rose gracefully from the sofa. She nodded briefly to the first officer. “Commander.”
Chakotay’s eyes followed her out in a way that Janeway didn’t like very much and she felt her heart rate increase. “Commander?” she repeated, irritability predominant in her tone.
It surprised him. He turned to her with a confused, inquiring look. “Captain, is something wrong? Did Seven do something?”
“Why would Seven have done anything?”
He got that patient expression on his face, as if Janeway was a not particularly bright child when it came to a situation that he just had to clarify for her in his infinitely wise and condescending Native-American way. She had forgotten how much it annoyed her.
“Seven’s been known to be difficult to handle.”
“You let me worry about Seven. You can worry about the rest of the ship.”
“I am, Captain. I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, but there are a lot of people on this vessel who are very uneasy about having a Borg in the crew. As first officer, I would be remiss if I didn’t let you know about it, or help you see how destructive such a division in the crew could be.”
Janeway felt her jaw tighten and it took an effort not to grind her back teeth. “What people?”
“B’Elanna for one.”
The incongruity struck her immediately and before she could stop it, Janeway let out an inelegant snort of laughter. It clearly confused him and she had to bite down on the second chuckle. “She’ll get over it, as will the rest of the crew. I know in my heart that Seven will become a very valuable member of Voyager.”
He exhaled audibly, clearly not agreeing with the assessment. “How can you be so sure, Kathryn?”
“I trust my instincts.” She paused. “You used to trust them, as well.”
He had the grace to look shamefaced at that. “I still do. It’s just…she’s been Borg a long time. She grew up as a member of a greater collective. Suddenly becoming an individual could be damaging to her in ways that we don’t understand and for which we might not be ready.”
“That’s why I’ll be there for her all the way. Don’t worry, Chakotay, Seven will never be alone again. Ever.” Janeway realized she had put a little too much emphasis on that when she saw his expression change. She knew a change of subject was needed. “Is that why you came in here?”
“No.” He passed her a padd. “I wanted to discuss these recommendations for the new astrometrics lab upgrades. Do we really need to continue allocating this many resources to the project? Harry and Seven have already overhauled it from top to bottom. The other enhancements seem excessive.”
Janeway resumed her seat on the sofa, and at her unspoken invitation, he settled into the chair. “This lab is going to prove invaluable to us, Chakotay. We need all the upgrades in the section that we can manage.”
He smiled suddenly, his teeth white against his olive complexion. “Kathryn, excuse me for saying so, but you’re just full of predictions today. When did you become so optimistic about the future?”
“Chakotay, you have no idea.” Janeway looked over the data, wondering if she should make any adjustments. There were a few areas she knew could be streamlined and made more efficient because of what subsequently did happen, but she didn’t think she could afford to alter anything. “These look fine to me. Is there any particular area you feel is a trouble spot?”
“We could use the resources in other parts of the ship, and frankly, we’ve done perfectly well without an updated astrometrics lab for years.”
Janeway tried to remember if she had this argument with her first officer the last time. It didn’t seem familiar but then, it was such a small thing that perhaps she wouldn’t. After all, she was the one who ultimately made the decisions, and to be completely honest with herself, if she wanted something, then she usually got it. Any opposition was merely a formality and not something that she tended to make note of. It was only when she was thwarted in her goals that opposition from others stuck in her mind.
“All the increased space in the ship’s databanks is going to be needed. I’m authorizing the request.”
Chakotay hesitated and then leaned forward, his big hands palm up on his knees, as if in supplication. “Then maybe I’m just worried about where all these requests are coming from.”
“So, we’re back to Seven.” Janeway felt tension pull her shoulders together and feather a small, questing tendril of pain toward her right eye. “I’m not going to have this same discussion over and over with you, Chakotay. You’re wrong about her and this continued animosity will only hurt her and the ship.”
He lifted his hands, obviously trying to diffuse the anger that was lacing her tone. “Captain, I’m not trying to be difficult, honestly. It’s my job as your first officer to point out things that you may be missing.” His eyes grew darker. “Don’t forget, I was temporarily assimilated.”
“What you went through wasn’t close to assimilation.” Janeway, who had been assimilated and knew the shattering power of it, spoke without thinking, her voice heavy with scorn. At the tightening around his eyes, she was forced to quickly cover. “Chakotay, you were connected into a collective mind by Riley to facilitate your healing, but what they had wasn’t the same type of collective that the Borg have, it was only a pale imitation. With a real assimilation…well, you just don’t come back from it so easily.”
She had made him angry, she could tell, but he was holding onto his temper with admirable control. “Captain, that’s my point, exactly. Seven can’t simply walk away from eighteen years in the Collective without repercussions. She’s already tried to contact the Borg to retrieve her. And then, just a signal from the Raven caused her to steal a shuttle and violate B’omar space. We were lucky to get out with no casualties.”
“I’m not saying that Seven hasn’t had problems, or even that she won’t have them in the future, but I’m not about to give up on her because of them.”
“You don’t have to give up on her, but, well, forgive me for saying so, Captain, but it’s beginning to seem like you have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to her.”
“Like I had for you when I made you my first officer?” That struck amidships and he blinked, temporarily speechless. She took full advantage of her opening. “The arguments you’re presenting now about Seven aren’t so very different than the arguments Tuvok offered when I was considering an alliance with the Maquis and making you my first officer. I wasn’t wrong then and I’m not wrong now.” She put down the padd and pinned him with her best command look. “That’s the end of the matter.”
She knew it wouldn’t be because other things would happen and the discussion would be resurrected again, but hopefully it would shut him up for the duration of her stay in this time. Otherwise, it was going to be extremely difficult to maintain objectivity when it came to the woman who meant more to her than her command.
And tossing Chakotay into the brig for the duration was simply not an answer no matter how appealing the idea might be.
Seven hesitated outside the door on deck four, afraid of what she would find, yet knowing it still had to be done. Gently, she pressed the chime, and when the door hissed open, found herself staring into the eyes of Samantha Wildman. It only took a few seconds to realize this was not the woman who was the head of Millennium’s biometrics department. Seven instantly recognized the mix of confusion, surprise and trace of fear that crossed Samantha’s features.
“Yes?”
“Lt. Wildman?” Fortunately, Seven had a story ready. “I apologize for disturbing you so late, but I was wondering if you could assist me with a biometrics problem.”
Samantha hesitated but finally nodded, stepping back to allow her entrance into the cabin. Seven glanced around and saw Naomi playing in the corner with some toys. The little girl regarded her with somber, wide-eyed fascination.
“It’s Ensign.”
Seven blinked and turned to Samantha. “Excuse me?”
“It’s Ensign, not Lieutenant.”
“Of course,” Seven said as smoothly as she could. “I was misinformed.”
Samantha was staring at her oddly, but Seven wasn’t sure if it was because she wasn’t the best when it came to deception, or if were simply because Seven of Nine, a person not known for reaching out to others in the crew, was in her quarters.
“What’s the problem?”
Seven handed over a padd. “These readings on Srivani may provide us with a clue as to how they were able to remain invisible while they experimented on the crew. It is entirely possible the device they used left some traces on their genetic code, but I am unable to determine what.”
Samantha scanned the data, appearing somewhat flattered that Seven had come to her regarding her research. While she worked, Seven glanced around the cabin. It was the standard issue crew quarters, small and cramped, with every piece of furniture having a dual purpose, such as the table that doubled as a desk. Yet, for all its austerity, Samantha had tried to incorporate personal touches. A pastel painting hung neatly on the wall, providing a bright splash of color to the muted blues and grays, while a soft wine-shaded blanket was thrown casually over the small sofa.
Naomi had apparently lost interest in her mother’s guest and returned to her play, a structured pattern of recreational endeavor that Seven recognized as a ‘tea party’. Three dolls and a bear attended, sitting upright in small chairs surrounding a low table. Pink dishes littered the surface as Naomi carefully poured imaginary liquids into the cups and offered them with appropriate commentary to each toy. Seven was not able to identify the dolls, but she knew the stuffed animal’s name was Critter, a battered, much loved toy that tended to travel everywhere with Naomi. Even in the future, though the teenager would be loath to admit it, he would occupy a significant place on Naomi’s bed long after she had left all other toys behind and had turned her attention to popular culture, hanging out with her friends and boys.
Focusing her complete attention on Naomi, including the entire range of her ocular implant, Seven intently scrutinized the child’s every move. It did not take her long to realize this was not a teenager in a child’s body. At this stage of her maturity at age two, four in Ktarian terms, she indicated no developmental behavior beyond that. Seven concluded that neither of these individuals had been thrown back in time.
For the next twenty minutes, she listened politely as Samantha offered her opinion on the data, complimented her on her astuteness regarding the theory, thanked her for her time, demurred when she was offered a sociable drink and took her leave. As she strode down the corridor, a small smile curled the corners of her mouth. Undoubtedly, should she be asked, Samantha Wildman would have a much different take on the Borg than others in the crew, which could alter the timeline. Despite the possible temporal repercussions, however, Seven did not regret her choice of actions in the encounter. Should she be forced to relive it all, it would be beneficial to have an ally other than Janeway. And it would be instructive to interact with Naomi at a younger age.
As Seven entered Engineering, she was struck by how restrictive it was compared to the massive multilevel expanses of Millennium’s engineering section. Yet for its smaller size and limitation, it was much noisier, the warp engines issuing a more pervasive and penetrating hum than the newer, more technologically advanced units of her future ship. Just inside the doors, she hesitated, looking around uncertainly and aware of the engineering crewmembers glancing at her with suspicion, either surreptitiously or openly. Then she saw B’Elanna on the upper level. The Klingon had obviously spotted her and was now descending the stairs in a rush, prepared to defend her territory against the invading Borg.
Seven lifted a brow and waited patiently, hands behind her back, head tilted slightly. B’Elanna looked so young and serious, jaw stuck out pugnaciously, dark eyes sparking with dangerous intent. It was almost adorable.
“What do you want?”
Seven’s ocular implant lifted slightly. “I wish to speak with you, B’El---Lieutenant.”
“What about? Some of us have work to do, you know.”
“I know. Would it be possible to speak in your office?”
She saw that the reasonable request took B’Elanna by surprise and she wondered if she had truly been so hard to deal with in this time or if B’Elanna was simply too immature to adapt to politeness. On the other hand, Seven was self-aware enough to know that it was probably a case of both women possessing behavioral patterns that did not easily promote mutual understanding. Though if B’Elanna had also been thrown back in time, she could currently be playing the role of antagonist toward Seven, a belligerent persona she could easily resume with very little effort. Their friendship had always been laced with a certain amount of competitiveness, both professionally and personally in a way that Seven did not entirely understand, but always found quite invigorating.
“All right, come on then.”
The invitation was not offered graciously, and Seven swallowed back her smile as she followed her into the office. It was only when she was inside that she realized she had never entered this room during her time on Voyager, and perhaps with good reason. It was a severely limited space, made even smaller by the clutter of certain engineering parts, padds and tools that Seven was unable to fully identify. Distastefully, she removed a dusty unit from a warp manifold alternator, deposited it on the floor, brushed off the seat fastidiously and sat down.
B’Elanna was staring at her. “Make yourself comfortable.” The words were laced with heavy sarcasm.
“Thank you, I have.”
She waited patiently as B’Elanna continued to stare at her for a moment, perplexity paramount in her eyes before she grudgingly took a seat behind the desk. “What do you want?”
“I have detected a variance in the port plasma slipstream,” Seven said. If B’Elanna was from the future, she’d immediately pick up on the reference to the transwarp application that eventually enabled them to return to the Alpha Quadrant. If not, then Seven could attribute it to a slip of the tongue.
“The what?”
“A variance in the plasma stream,” Seven corrected smoothly, though not without a little disappointment. It might have provided a certain entertainment value to have B’Elanna in this time with her, though the trouble they could cause would undoubtedly disrupt several timelines and provide their captain with headaches beyond imagining.
“What are you babbling about?” Impatience warred with confusion in B’Elanna’s voice.
Seven handed her a padd detailing the variance that she had introduced to the system prior to embarking on her mission to discover if anyone else had been transported through time with them. B’Elanna gave it a curt glance and then glared at Seven.
“I can’t believe you’re wasting my time with this. It’s a minor phase variance, nothing more.”
“It may be indicative of something damaging.” Seven was starting to enjoy this.
“It’s not.”
“If it were someone else bringing you this data, would you take it more seriously?”
“What?”
“Your unrelenting hostility to me may be compromising your professional integrity.”
B’Elanna slammed her hands down on the desk. “Okay, I’ve had just about enough of this. Time for you to leave.”
“Interesting.” Seven eyed her coolly. “Any theory I offer is immediately rejected. Typical of your type of personality.”
“And what type is that?” B’Elanna’s voice grew dangerous.
“It is my assessment such blatant displays of dislike are actually an indication of great fear.”
B’Elanna’s eyes bugged out, clearly outraged at the suggestion…as Seven knew she would be. “You think I’m afraid of you? That’s insane.”
“Insanity is something ascribed to Klingons on more than one occasion. It is something in which they take considerable pride, particularly of the berserker type. Perhaps that is merely a camouflage for a pervasive, species-wide underlying fear as well.”
Seven watched as B’Elanna’s skin grew noticeably darker and she wondered idly if the engineer would attack her. Then it occurred to her that she was enjoying this entirely too much and it was time to get back to what she was there for. “I wonder what Ro’s assessment of this will be?”
B’Elanna, who had opened her mouth to say something, undoubtedly something profane and uncomplimentary, abruptly stopped and looked completely baffled. “What? Who the hell is Ro?”
“Who is Ro?”
“That’s what I said! Who’s Ro?”
“I do not know. Who is Ro?”
“What?”
“What?”
“You said Ro.”
“I did not.”
B’Elanna started to say something, stopped, and finally settled on staring at Seven with a completely bewildered expression on her face. “I think you’ve finally lost it, Borg. You’re officially crazy.”
Seven, about to say something cutting and clever, abruptly realized she wouldn’t know how to formulate such a devastating retort at this point of her development and contented herself with merely looking superior, which she knew drove B’Elanna mad. Sure enough, B’Elanna’s face darkened again and Seven decided that it was time to move on before B’Elanna took it into her head to enter a physical altercation with her. While that would be somewhat amusing, it could draw attention to the fact that Seven was not who everyone thought she was. In that event, she would have some difficult explanations to provide to the captain. Besides, there was no question that this was not the B’Elanna of the future.
That woman was so much harder to provoke with just a look.
Janeway stepped off the turbolift onto deck twelve where crew quarters were located. After talking to Tom Paris, all the while being as subtle as she could, she determined that he hadn’t been thrown back in time. The Doctor was easier. She merely had to run a diagnostic on his program to discover nothing out of the ordinary. She was glad of that because it lessened the chances of her being detected that way whereas getting into a discussion with the EMH might have caused her to make a mistake.
Now she was on her way to see Ro Laren. If there was anyone in the crew who could cover her tracks and keep people from knowing she had been switched, it was the Bajoran. The problem was, in this time, Janeway wasn’t supposed to know she was Ro Laren. She was going by the name Ara Lerona, having infiltrated the Maquis cell commanded by Chakotay and was currently wanted by Starfleet authorities for desertion and treason. The only person who was aware of her identity on Voyager was Tuvok, and he had helped her cover it up for years. Janeway still wasn’t quite sure how she would approach it so that no one would be the wiser about her deception if it turned out Ro hadn’t been transferred in time. Of course, just going to see her should set off alarm bells in a future Ro because there hadn’t exactly been a lot of encounters between them prior to her identity being revealed, nor had she ever visited Ro in her quarters in this time period. On the other hand, if this situation eventually became handled in a way that left those memories erased or removed, then the future Ro wouldn’t necessarily remember a meeting between herself and the captain prior to the crucial revelation.
She wondered what was going on with the entities they had replaced, the Janeway and Seven of this time. Had they been transported to the Millennium of the future? She didn’t have any memory of such an event, but then, would she until after she returned? And if their temporal counterparts were receiving an all too revealing look at the future, how would that affect the past once they came back?
Assuming that happened, Janeway thought darkly, temples throbbing briskly as they always did when she tried to work through the tangled ramifications of temporal disturbance. Before she quite realized it, she was standing outside the door leading to Ara’s quarters that she shared with Ensign Dorado from geometrics. She pressed the chime and waited patiently until the door hissed open to reveal Ro.
Janeway stifled the smile that wanted to break through when she saw the dark eyes widen with dismay and perhaps a hint of suspicion. “Ensign?”
“Captain?” There was a brief pause, pregnant with a myriad of layers. “You wish to see me?”
“May I come in?”
Uncertainly, Ro stepped back, granting the captain entrance into the cabin. Janeway glanced around, uncomfortably aware of how small it was. It was almost as bad as the quarters allocated at Starfleet Academy, with room for two bunks, a desk and sofa, impersonal, like a hotel room. How had people managed for seven years sharing quarters like these? It made her ashamed and impressed her again with the crew of Voyager who had stuck by her through thick and thin. She also appreciated Chakotay a bit more for overseeing such arrangements, for making sure roommates were compatible and people didn’t feel constrained by such meager accommodations. If she ended up trapped in this time, perhaps she could arrange something to allot more living space, though how she’d manage that, she had no idea.
She turned, aware of Ro regarding her with narrowed eyes, a pinched look on her face. Janeway noticed that none of her natural grace was present. Instead, her shoulders were slumped and her head bent submissively. Her hands picked absently at her tunic in a way that made Janeway uncomfortable, which was the purpose, she supposed. The Ro she knew had a controlled grace, a deadly way of moving that precluded unnecessary or wasted motion.
Playing the role, Janeway thought. The meek, mild Ara Lerona, shy and withdrawn, not one to notice at all. The captain certainly hadn’t noticed her for five years. Only by looking closely could Janeway see the woman she would become, the first officer she would be to her in all but actual rank.
Even if Ro had not been swept up in the temporal anomaly, a part of Janeway still wanted to tell her everything, get her input on what was happening, but she didn’t dare, and not only because of the Temporal Prime Directive. It would be incredibly unfair to burden Ro with all that would happen in the future, not just the good, but the bad as well. Janeway knew that Ro was strong enough to handle it and not say anything for several years if required, but it would take a toll over the long run that no one should have to carry.
“It’s come to my attention that you’ve become a valuable member of my crew, Ensign,” Janeway said instead, with a warm smile. “Tuvok is very complimentary about you.”
“Commander Tuvok?” Ro was clearly surprised, yet she maintained her deferential attitude, the very picture of a mousy, insignificant individual. She was good, Janeway admitted. She searched the familiar features, trying to see some hint of the woman of the future.
“Yes, he seems to think that you could go far even if you lack Starfleet training.” Janeway hesitated, trying to come up with something reasonable that would not give her away to Ara, yet let a future Ro know she had been thrown back in time as well. “After all, it’s not enough to be able to handle yourself in a bar brawl, but in diplomatic areas as well.”
The only response was a trace of fear in her expression, not recognition of the adventure they would share on an alien spaceport. Sadly, Janeway realized she would just have to get through this without her friend and most trusted senior officer.
“Uh, I’m not sure I understand, Captain.”
Janeway stifled her sigh. “Well, I just happened to be passing by and wanted to let you know that I appreciate your efforts over the past few years. I look forward to your future progress, Ensign.” It wasn’t the most graceful kind of exit line but it was the best she could come up with.
“Thank you, Captain.” But Ara’s voice was uncertain, and it was clear that she was completely disconcerted by the encounter with Janeway.
Janeway turned and exited the cabin, feeling awkward and a little dismayed at being so clumsy. She hoped Ara would be able to forget the whole event and not let it alter in any way who and what she would become in the future.
Her eyebrow lifted when she saw the lean, dark form of her security chief standing at the end of the corridor. Now what would bring Tuvok down here to the lower decks? Janeway suspected she had a pretty good idea.
“Commander?”
“Captain. May I be of assistance?”
Janeway smiled as he fell into step with her. “Why would you imagine that I require assistance, Tuvok?”
Dark eyes flashed as he glanced sidewise at her. “It has come to my attention that you and Seven have been acting somewhat…oddly since your meeting this morning.”
Ah, so he wasn’t down here merely to protect his protégée, though Janeway suspected that was part of why he was confronting her here in the lower decks rather than on the bridge. He was probably concerned about what she had talked about with Ro.
“Oddly?”
“You have been initiating uncharacteristic encounters with specific members of the crew, particularly in the case of Seven of Nine.”
Janeway sighed. She had been afraid Seven wouldn’t be able to pull it off. To be fair, even Seven hadn’t expected that level of subtle deception of herself. Not that Janeway had apparently done much better or Tuvok wouldn’t have tracked her down here. Now that he was suspicious, the only way to derail what could become a very complicated situation would be to take him into her confidence…if only in a limited fashion.
“Tuvok, there is something going on here, but currently, the Prime Directive prohibits me from speaking with you or anyone else about it.”
“The Prime Directive?” Tuvok stepped onto the turbolift and was silent as it ascended, absorbing what she had said. It took a few moments, but he came to the logical conclusion, as she knew he would. “Do you perhaps refer to the temporal version of that protocol?”
Janeway didn’t dare look at him. “Yes.”
“And this involves Seven of Nine as well?”
“Yes.”
They stepped off the lift onto the bridge and without saying anything further, Tuvok followed Janeway into the ready room, the door hissing shut behind them. She took a seat behind the desk and regarded him, absorbing his severe features framed by elegantly pointed ears with affectionate pleasure. It had been awhile since she had seen him outside of a viewscreen and it made her realize how much she missed his steady friendship.
“Is there any way in which I or the crew can assist you?”
She felt relief seep through her as she realized he was accepting her words at face value. He could have easily suspected something else, something along the lines of an alien intrusion or mind influence. Instead, his quiet offer of support eased the weight on her shoulders, lightened her heart, and made everything else a great deal easier.
“Not yet, old friend. With any luck, we’ll be able to deal with it without involving anyone else.”
“I understand, Captain. I await your orders.”
“I’ll let you know when I have any. In the meantime, you’re dismissed.”
He turned to go and she lifted her head. “Tuvok?”
He paused just inside the door. “Captain?”
“Thank you.”
He lifted a brow in acknowledgement of her gratitude and exited, leaving Janeway alone in the ready room and wondering what her next move should be. Probably she should confer with Seven and see what she had discovered in her investigation. The fact that her heart gave a pleasant little flip at the thought only reminded her of how much she had missed being with Seven, and how much she had to resolve this lingering conflict between herself and her beloved spouse once and for all.
Seven lifted her head as she heard the hiss of the door behind her, glancing over her shoulder to see Janeway enter Astrometrics. It was so achingly familiar that she smiled brightly at the captain before she was aware of it. Across the room, Jennifer Delaney, already tense about working with an ex-Borg, immediately stopped what she was doing and gaped at Seven in utter astonishment. Seven noticed it and promptly sobered, shooting an icy glance at the ensign that caused her to hastily finish up and vacate astrometrics for another part of the ship.
Janeway sighed ruefully once she had left. “Darling, I never thought I’d ever tell you not to smile, but honestly, you need to restrain yourself.”
“I know, Kathryn.” Seven dipped her head. “Yet, it is difficult not to be happy whenever I see you.”
Janeway hesitated, then reached over and patted her forearm as she paused by the main astrometrics console. “I feel the same,” she said in a soft voice before looking up at the expansive viewscreen that dominated the room. “Have you managed to come up with anything regarding our situation?”
Seven shook her head, feeling a flicker of frustration ripple through her. “I have no idea where to start, Captain. There is no sign of temporal flux in our bodies, but then there would not be if it were only our consciousness that had been transported through time. The sensors do not detect any kind of temporal distortion within several light years, nor are there any lingering traces of one having occurred within the last six months.”
“Then what the hell is going on here?” Janeway started to pace, striding back and forth on the upper level at the base of the viewscreen. “There has to be some purpose to this, some reason that we’re here, and some evidence of what happened. What could have caused this?”
“I do not know.” Seven reacted to the sudden irritation in Janeway’s voice with a painful thud of her heart. The prickly tone reminded her sharply that things were not entirely all right between them, and just because they were forced to unite in a common cause didn’t mean things were forgotten. “I wish I could give you better answers, Captain.”
Janeway paused in her pacing and turned to stare at her. Her features, which had been twisted up in anger and frustration, smoothed out.
“I know you do, darling. I’m sorry. We’re in this together, and I don’t need to be taking my bad mood out on you.” She pursed her lips wryly. “Though it certainly isn’t the first time it will happen, it may be the first in this timeline.”
Seven tilted her head slightly, hope rising just a little in her chest. “Kathryn, I understand.”
“I know you do. You always do.” Janeway’s eyes grew dark. “I’ve been taking out my bad mood on you for a while now.”
Seven shrugged lightly, lifting on shoulder. “You had every reason to do so.”
“No, I didn’t, but even knowing that, I couldn’t seem to help it.” Janeway looked very sober. “You’ve been my strength so many times, Seven, more times than I can count, it seems. But you’re also my greatest weakness. You can hurt me ... hurt my command ... in a way that no one else can. I have to trust that you won’t, and that when you do, you have an exceptionally good reason for it.” She hesitated, her jaw set firmly. “Without that trust, we can’t work together.”
Seven felt her breath coming hard, knowing this was a crucial moment, perhaps even one that would enable them to move forward. “I know, Kathryn. I understand that as well.” She searched for the words as she studied the worn features of her beloved spouse. “I will not apologize for wanting ... for needing ... to protect my family in any way that I can. I cannot do that. This is who I am and who I will always be. You, Gretchen, Phoebe, all the others whom I love, will always be of prime importance, far more than Starfleet or some esoteric ideal of human behavior.”
Janeway nodded, but remained silent, as if afraid her voice would not be steady enough to reply.
“But I do apologize for how I went about it on Millennium,” Seven continued. “I should not have gone to Lenara, or at least, should not have stayed with her for those two nights. I did need a friend, and she was kind to me, but there was also a part of me that subconsciously knew staying in her quarters would bother you beyond that simple act of friendship. B'Elanna said that had we still been in the Confederation, I would have contacted Tazna Jade and requested sanctuary with her.” Seven felt the sharp pinprick of shame once more, one that sharpened when she saw the tightening around Janeway’s mouth. “Perhaps that is a valid assessment. Not because I would wish to be with either woman romantically. I would never want that. But I did want to hurt you, and staying with Lenara was the most efficient way to accomplish it. That was very wrong, and I am sorry, Kathryn.”
There was a shimmering in the blue-gray eyes as the captain spoke, her words husky and still threaded with pain. “We can’t work things out if you’re not with me.”
Seven knew that separating herself from Janeway had shaken her spouse’s foundation in a way that other behaviors from her, even the angriest of personal conflicts, could not. She reached out and beckoned Janeway closer. Slowly, the captain descended from the dais and stood beside Seven, looking up into her face with aching vulnerability. Seven took Janeway’s hand and squeezed it gently.
“I know what I did hurt you, far more than I realized at the time.” Her voice was very gentle. “I also know that I am reacting to situations in ways that I did not when I was less developed as an individual, and I must consider that carefully. But I did not mean for you to think I had left you, Kathryn, or that I wished to alter the conditions of our marriage. It proved itself an unwise course of action and it will not happen again.” She paused and lifted an eyebrow. “I promise that in the upcoming future, when I am angry with you, I will always remain at your side and inform you of it constantly so that there will be no misunderstanding of my intent.”
Janeway managed a somewhat twisted grin. “That would be better.”
Seven doubted the captain would think so once it occurred, but she did not say so. Instead, she pulled Janeway to her in a loving embrace, burying her face in the soft, auburn hair. “There will never be anyone else for me, Kathryn.”
The captain exhaled softly, her voice muffled against the front of Seven’s uniform. “I guess ... I’d become complacent, Seven. I was so happy, and I began to think nothing could or would ever change that. Then, in an instant, it was completely turned around. It frightened me. It still does. And now everything has changed for us, our place, our time, our situation…maybe that’s my punishment for being so damn smug about my place in the universe.”
“One thing has not changed, Kathryn, and will never change. I love you. I always have, I always will.” She tightened her arms around Janeway, holding her as close as she could without harming her. “We will work this out, Kathryn. We will find a way to make things right.”
“I know we will.”
And for the first time in a long time, Janeway sounded as if she truly believed it. Seven felt relief rush through her and she drew back enough to press her lips against Janeway’s soft, full mouth. The kiss went on for some time, and it was only with reluctance…and the knowledge of where and when they were…that they finally let go of each other.
Just in time. As they separated, the door to Astrometrics hissed open, heralding the arrival of Commander Chakotay. If he noticed anything between the women, he didn’t indicate it. The glance he bestowed on Seven was foreboding for its own reason, she presumed, and not because he had any idea that only seconds earlier, she had been kissing the captain and considering carefully whether she should unfasten Kathryn's tunic so she could fondle her breasts. She shared a glance with Janeway, saw her cheeks grow rosier and looked away quickly before she smiled and upset the commander more than he was.
And it was clear he was very upset.
“Commander? Is there something wrong?”
Chakotay shot another dark look at Seven before turning his attention to Janeway, handing her a padd. “We have a problem, Captain. I’ve just received a complaint from Lt. Torres. She was accosted by Seven earlier today and she’s spitting mad about it.”
“Accosted? How?”
“Apparently, Seven insulted her, called her a coward and implied she was incompetent.”
“Seven?”
Janeway regarded her with an annoyed expression, not necessarily because she may have upset B’Elanna, Seven knew…she had always been upsetting B’Elanna in this time…but because she had not been subtle enough to keep attention from being turned to her.
“What I said was not insulting,” Seven explained coolly. “Lt. Torres may have been insulted by it, but then she is offended by my very presence so anything I say is, therefore, objectionable to her. In that event, the only way not to insult her would be not to talk to her, which prohibits me from doing my duty to the ship, as well as preventing her from being efficient in her functionality.”
Chakotay blinked, momentarily taken aback, while Janeway eyed Seven warily. Then she looked at the first officer. “Chakotay, I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you, Captain, but I’m responsible for the crew interaction,” he said stiffly, brows lowering formidably. He shifted his dark gaze to Seven, his features stern. “I would like to see you in my office after your duty shift. We need to disc—”
“Commander, I will handle this,” Janeway interrupted in a sharper tone. “Thank you, Chakotay, but this is more a matter for the ship’s captain than the first officer.”
Startled, his head came up and his eyes widened at such a departure from protocol, but after a long searching look into Janeway’s unyielding features, he nodded abruptly. “As you will, Captain.” He shot a final glare at Seven and left Astrometrics, leaving the women alone once more. Seven busied herself with the data streaming across her console, aware of Janeway’s eyes on her.
“Seven?”
“Kath—Captain, B’Elanna’s temper at this time is extremely volatile.”
“And of course, you didn’t provoke her in any way.” Janeway’s tone indicated the opposite, revealing she knew exactly how Seven would have approached her future friend. Seven hesitated and Janeway let out her breath in an exasperated puff. “Seven—” she began.
“I am sorry, Captain,” Seven said hastily. “I may have been… less prudent in my interaction with B’Elanna than I should have been, but I assure you, I did not intend to compromise our situation.”
“You’re not just going to make people suspicious of you, Seven, you’re going to undermine my position as well if I have to keep protecting you. Particularly from Chakotay.”
Seven hung her head sheepishly. “I know, Kathryn. I am sorry.”
Janeway started to say something else, paused, and visibly relaxed her shoulders. “Well, no harm done, I guess, though he's really starting to believe I have a gigantic blind spot when it comes to you.”
Seven tilted her head sideways and gazed at her through lowered lashes, a look she knew Janeway found tremendously hard to resist. “Haven’t you always?”
Janeway’s lips tightened but there was the smallest spark of humor in her eyes. “I doubt it was this extensive when you first came on board Voyager. I know I still possessed a certain level of objectivity when it came to you, even if I won’t in the future.”
“Chakotay does not like me.”
“He’s merely suspicious of your background. You know he’ll come to be like an older brother to you.”
“On the contrary, that is how he will become with you, though now, he is still harboring certain aspirations.”
Janeway frowned, looking vaguely puzzled. “Aspirations?”
“He would like to copulate with you.” Seven made a small face of distaste. “Undoubtedly in a most unsatisfactory manner, but nonetheless, he wishes to—”
“Seven!” Janeway stared at her and her expression indicated that she wasn’t sure if she should be outraged or amused.
Seven lifted an eyebrow. “You know it is true.”
“On the contrary, I don’t know that at all and neither do you. Isn’t it enough that you’ll punch him out soon out of such baseless suspicions?”
Seven contemplated that. She had not exactly forgotten the encounter—her cortical node processed and retained all her life experiences with varying degree of detail—but it hadn’t been at the forefront of her memory. “Perhaps I should punch him now,” she suggested in her most reasonable tone. “It would save me from having to do it later.”
Janeway laughed, a sort of rueful chuckle that pleased Seven. She knew that as much as Janeway professed to dislike her displays of jealousy, there was a part of her that was thrilled by them. “You’ll do no such thing. It’s bad enough when you do it in the future. At least then, you felt you had a reason, though it won’t be much of one. There's no way you have any justification for it at this point in time.”
“Very well, Kathryn,” Seven said, enjoying the chance to make her captain laugh, though the various past, present and future tenses they were utilizing in their conversation were starting to make her head hurt. “I shall simply have to look forward to the occasion.”
Janeway smiled and started toward her, undoubtedly to kiss her again, but the opening of the door forestalled it. Both women looked to see Harry Kim enter for his regularly scheduled duty shift in Astrometrics. Janeway shot Seven a glance that mixed warmth with disappointment that they wouldn’t have more time together, before nodding at Harry Kim and leaving the room. Seven stifled a sigh and focused her attention on the operations officer.
The expression on his face, ever eager and hopeful, reminded her sharply that she had her own unwanted suitors in this time.
Cargo Bay Two was dark and dingy as she stepped inside the massive metal doors. Behind her, Voyager’s night watch dimmed the corridor lights and left few crewmembers about, making it unlikely she would be interrupted. That was important because she had finally reached her limit. Three days had passed with no progress in finding a way to return to their own time, and while it had become easier to resume her place here professionally, falling into old habits and protocols, Janeway was finding it much harder to deal with the aching lack of a personal life. Except for all too brief affectionate exchanges whenever they had the rare opportunity to be alone, she and Seven were forced to remain physically distant.
It was a decided contrast to how she had been acting prior to the temporal incursion. On Millennium for the past month, she and Seven had been together physically, sharing their quarters, still working together on the bridge and occasionally in the science lab, but emotionally, a chasm had existed that Janeway feared she would never be able to cross. It bothered her that she had managed to bridge it here with what she considered to be little effort. She should have been able to put forth that effort on Millennium, though she did allow that a crisis tended to put things into perspective very quickly. Perhaps perspective had been all she was lacking in the future, the hurt too close, while here on Voyager, it was easier to remember how much she loved and needed Seven.
There was a greenish tinge to the illumination here, tainted by the sickly emerald light emanating from the Borg alcoves lining one wall. She sealed the doors behind her with a priority command and walked slowly across the deck toward the dais where Seven stood, clamped in the cold, metallic embrace of her regeneration cubical.
How many times had she come down here to watch her regenerate? Seven shouldn't have known that she had been there, though she always claimed she had. Perhaps there was monitoring equipment that recorded the captain's visits, allowing Seven to know just how truly pathetic and lonely Janeway had been. Maybe that was even why she had taken the chance on initiating a romance, taking a giant step when the captain couldn't. Smiling crookedly, Janeway stepped up onto the console where her hand hovered over the controls that would terminate the regeneration sequence. She hesitated, wondering if there was another way to bring Seven out of her unconsciousness.
After all, Janeway considered wryly, she could always use the controls later if what she had in mind didn’t work. Moving around the console, she stepped onto the alcove base and positioned herself in front of Seven, pressing lightly against the statuesque form. Placing her hands lightly on Seven’s waist, Janeway could feel the hard bands of her abdominal implant through the fine mesh material of the biosuit. By standing on tiptoe and inching her way up Seven's generous chest, she could place her lips over Seven's full mouth.
For long moments, there was no response from Seven's rigid body as Janeway kissed her and the captain was starting to feel silly before the heavy arms of the cubical abruptly released with a soft hiss of escaping gases. From above, the computer’s voice stated in a slightly peevish tone; “Regeneration sequence is not complete.”
A soft sigh issued from Seven’s lips that became responsive to the kisses, and her arms came up to surround Janeway, pulling her close. Her head lowered, allowing Janeway to ease off her uncomfortable position and lean into the warm body and embrace, feeling as if she’d come home in some odd way.
“Kathryn.” The name was a quiet murmur, more a confirmation that all was right with the universe rather than the identification of who was in her arms.
Janeway laughed throatily. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“In this time, I would be afraid to imagine.” Seven kissed her back, a wonderful, openly desirous exchange. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you so much,” Janeway explained in a whisper. “I couldn’t sleep and finally, I just had to come down here.” She nestled into the strong arms, feeling protected and nurtured. “I sealed the door. It’s about 0200 hours. No one’s going to bother us.”
Seven laughed, a quiet, knowing sound of amusement and affection. “We have tried to make love in a Borg cubical before. It was quite unsuccessful.”
“Surely there must be a way to do this,” Janeway teased gently. “Where’s all that vaunted Borg ingenuity?”
Seven kissed her again, tongue slipping out to touch Janeway’s lips, then parting them to explore her mouth thoroughly, searing in the eagerness to taste her. “I believe I know a way.”
“Hmm, that was quick.”
“I am inspired.”
“You’re certainly inspiring,” Janeway assured her, slipping her hands around Seven’s back, over her hips and down her buttocks, cupping and squeezing provocatively as she pulled Seven’s groin to her own. Desire flared hotly in the lower part of her abdomen, spreading through her like molten gold, pooling at the juncture of her legs. She couldn’t remember ever wanting Seven more, despite all the love and passion that had flowed between them over the years. Seven seemed to sense it, or perhaps she was feeling the same because she kissed her fiercely, hands roaming freely over Janeway, loosening the uniform tunic.
“Uh, darling?”
“Yes, I know.” Reluctantly Seven loosened her embrace. “Come with me.” Her voice was unusually hoarse, shaking a bit from emotion as she guided Janeway off the base of the alcove and over to the supply shelves. Reaching up, she accessed a container, opening it to reveal several small packages that Janeway recognized immediately.
“Oh, clever girl,” she complimented.
Seven flashed a smile as she placed the expandable mattress on the deck. Standard away mission issue, it only took a touch of the button to activate the internal pump, which began filling the padded sack with foam. Within a few seconds, it had finished, leaving a double sized mattress that Janeway knew from experience wasn’t the most comfortable, but was still more than adequate for the purpose they intended. Janeway searched the shelves, found some thermal blankets and pillows and tossed them over to Seven who promptly finished making up the bed. By the time she was done, Janeway could barely breathe from the anticipation and desire raging through her.
Seven turned to her, lissome in the lowered illumination, her eyes wide and incredibly blue. Janeway smiled, feeling as if every nerve ending on her body were alive and acutely sensitive. “Hey,” she said softly.
Seven's eyes looked her up and down, burning in their intensity. “Though this is not the first time we have made love on an away mission issued mattress, I do not believe we have ever made love in Cargo Bay two.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, love. If nothing else, at least we have the opportunity to cross that off the list now…before you even have a list.”
“Please, no more temporal discussion,” Seven begged.
Janeway chuckled and then, as Seven lifted her hand in supplication, she grasped the long fingers and allowed Seven to pull her to her, their bodies fitting together with aching familiarity. Janeway inhaled sharply as Seven kissed her, a deeply passionate kiss that curled her toes, and her fingers went unerringly to the back of the long, leonine neck. It had been awhile since Seven had worn the biomesh suits she had needed after becoming a member of Voyager, but some things were not easily forgotten, like how manipulating just so released the seam down the back, allowing the clinging material to lose cohesion. The outfit slipped easily from Seven’s shoulders and Janeway could pull it down, leaving Seven bare from the waist up. Janeway’s breath caught at the sight of those full and lovely breasts, and then caught again when she saw the scarred tissue beneath the bands of the abdominal implant. She hadn’t forgotten how much the Borg had damaged Seven, but it had been awhile since she’d had such a stark reminder. It made her heart ache, filling her with the searing need to protect her and knowing there was no way she could.
Seven sensed her hesitation and her face darkened. She pulled back, cringing a little and Janeway looked up to meet her eyes, concern instantly replacing desire. “Annika?”
“My implant.” Seven’s voice was very low as she gestured toward her abdomen. Her face was twisted uncomfortably. “It repulses you.”
“Oh, darling.” Janeway traced gentle lines over the metal ridges bracketing her spouse’s stomach, moving close and dipping her head to kiss the small starburst marring Seven’s collarbone. “You know that’s not true. You’re so beautiful, in all ways and form. Don’t ever doubt that. This only bothers me because I know what hurt it represents, not because of how it looks. In fact, the only thing I really have against this particular implant is the medical problems it’s going to cause you in the future.” She paused, struck by a thought. “Oh, god, sweetheart. I know you don’t have as much sensitivity right now as you will once the Doctor regenerates your nerve endings.”
Seven visibly relaxed. “I will adapt.”
Janeway reached up and cupped Seven’s face, palm warm on the smooth skin, fingertips lightly stroking the curve of her ocular implant. Searching the pale blue eyes, she finally smiled with sensual warmth. “I’m sure you will, and you know, darling, if we do have to live this all over again, I won’t mind because every moment with you on Voyager, and on Earth and on Millennium, was an absolute joy, even if I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. I certainly will now, and if we don’t manage to live it in quite the same way because of our experience and knowledge of each other, then it will still be the greatest time of my life because you’ll be a part of it.”
Seven pulled her close, inhaling her fragrance. “I love you, Kathryn, my captain, my One of One, always and forever. There will never be another, I swear to you.”
And Janeway believed it, with every iota of her being.
She pushed the biosuit the rest of the way over Seven’s hips and down her long legs, supporting her as she stepped out of the ridiculously high heeled boots that were part of the outfit. As Seven reclined on the mattress, Janeway hastily stripped off her uniform, leaving it crumpled on the deck, and joined her lover on the yielding surface. She groaned as she pressed her body against Seven’s, the warmth and silky smoothness of her skin almost too delightful to bear. Even the sharp edge of implant and the roughness of scar tissue were inviting to the touch because it was all part of Seven and Janeway loved her completely.
“Kathryn.” Seven’s whisper was hot in her ear. “I have missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too, darling,” Janeway murmured, hands roaming freely over her, exploring areas that were different on this form and thus, were new once more to her questing fingertips. “I’m sorry I was such a fool.”
“We were both fools,” Seven told her. “No longer.”
Janeway didn’t have anything to add to that. She didn’t want to add anything to that. All she wanted was to make love with Seven, to lose herself in her body and scent and taste…to be back where she belonged even if it wasn’t when she belonged. Cupping Seven’s full breasts in her hands, she squeezed lovingly as she dipped her head to cover one rosy nipple with her lips, tickling it into sensation with the tip of her tongue. Soft sounds of pleasure issued from Seven’s lips, her body quivering under Janeway’s touch, almost helpless in her arousal.
Janeway hummed happily as she drifted down the sinewy torso, stroking the flesh between the soft gray bands, kissing along the main brace to just above the apex of those long, glorious legs. She nuzzled the brief thatch of blonde hair affectionately, then settled between Seven’s thighs, leaning in greedily for that first wonderful taste.
Seven had changed over the years, she discovered with mild surprise. Initially, she had been almost flavorless, very little existing beyond the light saltiness. Later, she would become muskier, more womanly, deepening in both flavor and texture. This body was still virgin territory, Janeway realized suddenly, and that thought thrilled her down to the very core of her being.
It also took much longer for Seven to reach her peak. Unlike the past, when the first sensations had been so overwhelming and irresistible to her, this Seven of mingled past and future needed far more stimulation to overcome her numbed nerve endings, a higher intensity in manipulation to raise her to the peak. Janeway was more than prepared to meet the challenge, utilizing every trick and caress in her inventory and a few she invented right on the spot. When Seven finally climaxed, it was profoundly intense, perhaps because she had hovered on the edge for so long. Though the closing of thighs about Janeway’s head, the convulsions of the strong body beneath her, gave the captain a real moment of concern that Seven would forget there was a mere human presence providing this delight.
Fortunately, Seven was able to restrain her physical response from being too enthusiastic, much to Janeway’s relief and continued well-being. Smiling smugly, Janeway climbed up the lengthy body to Seven’s mouth where she kissed her deeply, wanting nothing more than to immerse herself completely in her lover.
“Kathryn.” Seven exhaled slowly.
“Hmm, I’m here, darling.”
“That was…significant.”
Janeway laughed quietly. “I’m glad. You deserved something ‘significant’ after all we’ve been through.”
Seven’s pale eyes searched Janeway’s face. “I love you.”
“Oh, god, I love you, too.” She kissed her again, more tenderly, reining in the desire that seared through her because for the moment, she just wanted to show how much she cared. “I beyond love you. You’re my heart, Seven of Mine.”
Seven smiled at the pet name and pulled her close. “My Kathryn.”
And for the next hour or so, she managed a quite significant effort of her own while pleasuring her captain beyond all thought and reason.
Seven opened her eyes and knew immediately that she was back on Millennium. It wasn’t just the physical, subliminal clues like scent and sound, which she had never really noticed until it had been changed, but an internal, intensely visceral feeling that things were once again right where they had been wrong. Startled, she rose to her left elbow and looked down at the sleeping form in the bed beside her. The last thing she remembered was settling into her alcove after they had cleaned up Cargo Bay Two, removing all traces of their illicit encounter. Janeway had left to go back to her quarters, the couple not daring to fall asleep together as much as they wanted to do so. She reached over and touched Janeway on her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Kathryn.”
Janeway made a soft sound, half protest, half sensual anticipation, the combination making Seven smile. She waited as Janeway forced her eyelids open, bluish-gray eyes clouded with sleep before finally focusing on the woman in bed with her.
“Annika?”
“We’re back.”
“What?” Janeway sat bolt upright and stared around wildly. “How the hell did that happen?”
“Unknown.”
Janeway shot her a look and then rolled out of bed where she grabbed her robe, pulling it on over a slate-blue t-shirt. The same one, Seven noted, that she had worn the night she had come to bed. It was not a coincidence. They discovered after a thorough check with the ship’s computer that they had been returned either at the same instant that they had left or very shortly after. There was no indication that anyone knew they had gone, nor was there any trace picked up by the ship’s sensors of their temporal shift. Tricorder scans detected no physical evidence in their bodies, their surroundings or the space around them to indicate anything had occurred.
“What’s going on here?” Janeway’s voice was full of bafflement as she paced about their living quarters. Seven, seated at her work console, shook her head.
“I do not know, Kathryn. For all intents and purposes, it did not happen.”
Janeway stopped, turning to face her. “But it did happen. It wasn’t a hallucination. You and I just spent four days in the past.”
“I believe we did,” Seven agreed quietly, “but there is no evidence to verify it. Nor does either of us remember losing four days during that time. Did our past selves indeed return with no loss of time, removing those four days from the space/time continuum? Did that particular incursion slip aside to form a temporal eddy?”
“Temporal eddy?”
“A loop of time that does not connect with any specific time line. It happened, yet did not, isolated from the space/time continuum by its limited existence. I studied such theory while working with Leah Brahms at TPG, but there is no way to prove it beyond offering up the theory itself.”
Janeway brought her hands to her head, clutching at her auburn hair. “God, I hate temporal mechanics!” Her tone was a mix of dismay and sheer exasperation. “What purpose would there be for such a thing?”
“Does every circumstance require a purpose, Kathryn?”
Janeway’s bluish gaze met hers, startled. “That doesn’t sound like you. You resent an effect existing without apparent cause.”
Seven let out her breath slowly. “Yes, but in this case, it is enough to know what we gained from it.” She lifted an eyebrow as a sudden thought struck her. “Perhaps that was the purpose; for us to have time together alone to regain our relationship.”
Janeway considered that, a skeptical expression on her face. “I sincerely doubt the universe works that way, Annika.”
“Then we must consider it an aberration, a temporal anomaly without cause or effect beyond our personal benefit.”
“A matter of us being in the wrong place and the wrong time, the two of us encountering a temporal rift that looped in on itself? And spit us out after four days?” Janeway shook her head. “I find that hard to believe, and I can’t think of anyone else who would believe it, either.”
Seven considered it for a long moment, assessing all the possible permeations that she could. “What do you wish to do, Kathryn?” she asked finally, in her most reasonable tone. “Shall we concentrate all the efforts of Millennium’s science section on researching it, without any tangible evidence of any kind, hoping to discover what exactly happened?”
Janeway put her hands on her hips, brows lowering as she regarded Seven. “Of course not, it would be ridiculous to tie up all our resources that way. But if we don’t know what exactly happened, or why or how, then it could happen again.”
“Perhaps. Yet, without any scientific data beyond our belief that it happened, there is little chance of discovering anything, nor any way to prevent it from happening again.”
Janeway hesitated, a furrow in her brow indicating deep thought. “Tuvok might remember what happened. He was suspicious while we were there and I told him it was a matter of the Temporal Prime Directive. If he remembers that…”
“And if he does not?”
A quick shake of Janeway's head dismissed that as she went over to the computer. “I also had an encounter with Ro that she might remember. I’ll talk with her in the morning and in the meantime, I’ll draft a communication to Tuvok. We can discover what they might know, at least. If they do, then maybe we’ll have a point in which to start.”
Seven knew Janeway hated to let go of anything lacking a scientific explanation, even if the explanation was so beyond the realm of their current reality, it might as well be magic. Usually, she was very much of the same mind, but in this instance, she was content with the result and lacked interest in the cause. Perhaps, over time, Janeway would as well.
She waited as Janeway constructed a communiqué. It would be sent with the rest of the communications packet that would be transmitted through the array constructed in Confederation space and relayed to the Federation. It would take a few days…or weeks, depending on where Tuvok was currently deployed…but he would offer some response.
“Kathryn?”
Janeway, who had been sitting at her work console, chin in hand, staring at the screen without seeing it, looked over at Seven. “Yes?”
“Come back to bed with me.”
A smile spread over Janeway’s face and her eyes lightened perceptibly.
“Unless you have something better to do,” Seven added with a touch of dryness in her tone.
“Oh no, my love, not a single thing.” Janeway rose from her seat and crossed the room to where Seven waited, slipping her arms around her waist and kissing her throat.
Seven wrapped her up in a strong embrace, dipping her head to kiss her with measured force. “Physically, I enjoy who I am now far more than who I was.”
Janeway’s mouth was avid beneath her lips, hungrily returning her kiss. “I suppose you would, darling, but in whatever form we’re in, know that I completely adore you and want you with every beat of my heart.”
Seven decided that was the perfect invitation to sweep her spouse up into her arms, hearing the little squeak of surprise and pleasure that accompanied the wiry arms slipping around her neck and the warm lips nuzzling her ear. Smiling faintly, she carried Janeway into the bedroom and deposited her gently onto the bed before she straightened and slipped out of her robe, letting it fall to the floor. She felt a sort of possessive pleasure as she looked down at Janeway who was reclining on her elbows, regarding her with sensual intent.
“Come here.”
Amused that the captain still felt she was in charge, Seven crawled onto the bed, looming over the smaller form of her spouse. Janeway’s eyes narrowed as Seven straddled her hips, then went wide with astonishment as Seven calmly and easily ripped away the robe and t-shirt. The tattered remains were tossed over her shoulder, leaving Janeway naked beneath her.
“That was my favorite robe,” she protested mildly once she had caught her breath.
“I shall replicate you another.”
Casually, she grasped Janeway’s wrists and pinned them above her head, holding her down. From the flare of her nostrils and the way her respiration increased, Seven knew this was arousing Janeway, which had been her purpose all along.
“What are you going to do?”
“Make you mine once more,” Seven said, bending down to kiss her with forceful intent.
Janeway laughed huskily. “I was always yours, darling.”
“Perhaps,” Seven allowed as she nipped lightly at her neck. “But I have not felt that recently.”
They kissed again, hotly, a slow, deeply passionate kiss. “Then take me, darling,” Janeway whispered, her breath warm against Seven’s lips. “Know it in your heart and body as much as you already do in your mind.”
Never losing grip on her wrists, she eased her elbows under Janeway's shoulders so that Seven could support the greater part of her weight on them. Stretching out the rest of her body on Janeway’s, she pressed down lightly to feel the soft, yielding curves against her own. Janeway moaned softly, spreading her legs to cushion Seven’s hips, heaving gently beneath her. Aroused by the motion, Seven readjusted her grip so that she had both of Janeway’s wrists in her left hand. The choice of appendages let Janeway know she was serious about keeping her pinned. The unyielding metal of Borg mesh could slice through flesh if one wasn’t careful, and Janeway would not struggle against it. If it had been Seven’s right, all humanoid hand, Janeway would take that to mean she could resist all she wanted and would do so quite cheerfully...because resisting the Borg was one of her absolute favorite things to do. Seven slowed her pace, well in control and determined to enjoy every second of this encounter.
Janeway growled. “Damn it, take what’s yours already.”
Startled, Seven laughed softly and undulated teasingly on her. “Patience. We have all the time required.”
“We have two hours before we have to report for duty,” Janeway corrected. “You have no time to waste.”
“We have time, Kathryn,” Seven insisted and kissed her again, focusing all her concentration on it. By the time she was done, Janeway had no objections left, at least, none that she could formulate coherently. She did have a few practical suggestions, phrased in the most inelegant and profane manner.
“I fear you shall have to settle for only one or two of those recommendations, Kathryn,” Seven told her with gentle humor. “I will utilize the rest of them after our duty shifts.”
Her breath coming quickly, Janeway gazed up at her, eyes lidded in pleasure. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a sadistic streak?”
Seven ran her hand over the stomach beneath her, stroking luxuriously through the thin triangle of auburn hair and to the crease that was seeping moisture. Her fingertips slipped easily over the firm little ridge, manipulating it mercilessly.
“Frequently. But only by you.”
“God, go inside.”
Seven hesitated and then complied, deciding that she had made Janeway wait long enough. Carefully, she slipped inside, the slick, inner walls closing tightly about her fingers, lovely and warm as she flexed and thrust within her. Janeway arched, fighting the grip on her wrists, not because she wanted it released, Seven knew, but because the sensation was so intense she could not help but struggle against it. Increasing her caress, Seven utilized her thumb now, flicking it over Janeway in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. Janeway cried out, unable to resist the loving assault, and then bucked sharply under Seven as climax overtook her, shaking her thoroughly.
Seven had covered her mouth in that perfect instance before her peak, kissing her deeply as she guided her through it, prolonging it until she knew it was verging on the uncomfortable. Only then did she slowly release Janeway, feeling her relax beneath her, nuzzling her with quiet affection.
“Amazing,” Janeway whispered. “Simply amazing. They say makeup sex is the best. I guess they’re right.”
Seven lifted an eyebrow. “Who is ‘they’?”
“I’m not sure, but they sure knew what they were talking about.”
Smiling faintly, Seven kissed her again and released her wrists, settling onto her side so that she could look down at Janeway. The captain gazed back, an expression of pure and simple satisfaction on her face.
“I suppose you want something now?”
“Could I stop you from giving it to me?” Seven was honestly curious.
Janeway made an abrupt move, rolling over onto Seven, pressing her back onto the bed.
“No,” she said. “You absolutely couldn’t. Not in the past, not now and certainly not in the future.”
The Nexus was hopping, filled with members of the alpha and gamma shifts out for a thoroughly good time. Ro knew the party would go on long enough for the beta shift to have some fun as well, once they logged off duty. At the largest table, set in front of high viewports that displayed passing stars distorted by a warpfield, Seven sat surrounded by presents and friends, thoroughly enjoying her ‘surprise’ birthday party.
“She looks so happy.”
Startled, Ro glanced over to see the captain had somehow materialized next to her from the crowd. “She does,” she agreed, taking a sip from her glass of Bajoran spring wine. She hesitated, studying the classic features beside her. “Something happened, something more than just a temporal displacement, Cap---Kathryn.”
Janeway smiled, a sort of peaceful, calm expression of happiness that hadn’t been there for several weeks. “Let’s just say we managed to work a few things out.”
“Being on your own will allow you to do that.” Ro wondered if she should tell the captain about B’Elanna’s suggestion to send the couple off in a malfunctioning shuttle and decided not to do so. After all, they might have need of the plan sometime in the future. No marriage ran perfectly smoothly, after all, not even Janeway and Seven’s. “Captain, are you sure you don’t want any further investigation into your incursion?”
Janeway shook her head. “It’s not necessary, Commander. Seven and Dr. Kahn have run extensive scans with equipment far more advanced than Voyager’s, and there’s simply no data available to investigate. Not even temporal traces in our bodies because our bodies didn’t transport, only our consciousness did. At this point, it would just waste time and resources better spent on other research.”
“I don’t remember you ever confronting me as Ara Lerona. I think that would have been a significant memory for me. I guess it didn’t happen, at least in this timeline.”
Janeway smiled. “In any event, what’s done is done and it’s time to move on. If it ever happens again, then we’ll take it from there.” She tilted her head slightly as she regarded her spouse across the room. “It was very nice of B’Elanna to do this for Seven. I’m afraid I lost track of the date again.” Her expression was a touch wistful.
“Well, it was something B’Elanna felt she had to do,” Ro responded in a noncommittal tone and tried not to wince. There may have been a certain inflection in her voice, however, because Janeway shot her an odd look, but fortunately, she didn’t say anything.
Instead, she inclined her head toward B’Elanna who was helping Seven open the next gift. “Your wife seems very happy, as well. Is there news on that front?”
Astonished, Ro turned to face Janeway, searching her face to see if she really knew something, if she were guessing, or if her comment was merely innocuous and taken as something more because Ro was sensitive about it. Janeway returned her look blandly, so blandly that Ro was sure she knew something.
“What sort of news?” Ro asked the question warily.
“Oh, the type that would undoubtedly make others happy as well, once you choose to announce it of course.”
“Prophets, how did you know?” Ro stared at her in mixed outrage and admiration.
Janeway smiled broadly, looking down into her whiskey and soda. “Honestly, Laren, are you truly unaware of the range of Seven’s implants? She easily picked up on the second heartbeat once it became viable. Besides, you know Seven’s been waiting on this ever since you told her you two were planning on starting a family. I think she scanned B’Elanna once a day.”
“Seven picked up a heartbeat? But B’Elanna’s only three weeks along!”
“Klingons do gestate much quicker than Bajorans, Laren,” Janeway reassured her, somehow detecting her sudden panic. She patted her lightly on the forearm. “Their pregnancy only lasts thirty weeks.”
Ro stared at her. “How do you know that?”
Janeway managed to look a little bashful. “When Seven researches something, she does so quite thoroughly, and I’m afraid I tend to pick up little bits of trivia here and there.”
“There are no bloody secrets on a starship, are there?” Ro shook her head grumpily. “Did she let B’Elanna know she knew?”
“I think she’s waiting for B’Elanna to tell her. It's her news, after all.”
“Yeah, well, B’Elanna’s holding off on announcing anything until she’s sure everything will be all right. There are certain risks with a hybrid melding.”
Janeway blinked, suddenly looking sober. “Of course. I hadn’t thought of that. Is everything all right?”
“So far. B’Elanna just wants to be a little further along.”
“I understand. I’ll let Seven know so she doesn’t become impatient and force the issue.” Janeway caught the expression on Ro’s face and held up a hand. “Yes, I know, Seven’s the most patient person around, but not when it comes to this. She can’t wait to play ‘Auntie Seven’ to your little one.”
“Why not one of your own?” Janeway didn’t have to be the only one to poke her nose into a person’s personal business, Ro decided acerbically.
Janeway took a small sip from her drink, obviously taking a moment before deciding to answer that or not. “It’s Seven’s call. When she’s ready, I’m ready. To be completely honest, I think she’s waiting to see how well the two of you handle parenthood on a starship. That way she can decide if we’re adaptable enough to take that step.”
Ro grinned evilly. “You’ll really get on well with your next hotshot baby exec with a belly stuck out in front of you and fat ankles.”
The look Janeway offered Ro then was suitable payback for the prying nature the captain apparently thought she was entitled to along with her rank. A loud outcry from Seven’s table forestalled what else she might have said and Ro smiled quietly to herself as she followed Janeway over to where Seven had just unwrapped a gift to reveal a statue. It generated a universal loathing from the group at the table, a quiet “Oh, god” from the captain and a delighted smile from Seven.
“Who gave you that, darling?” Janeway asked, a little too brightly, Ro thought.
“Kes and Tom Paris. It is beautiful.”
The crowd managed to contain their snickers as Janeway shot a poisonous look at the ship’s navigator and counselor. Tom ducked playfully while Kes smiled serenely.
“I knew she would love it the moment we laid eyes on it, Captain.”
“Once we had finished going blind, of course,” Tom added almost inaudibly.
Ro had to laugh at that, and laughed harder when Janeway fixed her with an ‘et tu’ look of disgust. Shaking her head, Janeway went over to join her wife, subtly displacing Lenara Kahn who immediately got up and moved over as soon as she saw the captain heading toward her. Ro smiled down into her wine and when she looked up, B’Elanna had joined her.
“Your party is a success, love. Well done.”
B’Elanna slipped her hand into Ro’s and squeezed lightly. “It had to come off well,” she admitted sheepishly. “I did get myself into this mess, after all.”
Ro chuckled and leaned over, kissing her on the temple. “Seven and Janeway know.”
“Know what?”
“About our little addition.”
B’Elanna turned wounded eyes on her. “You told them?”
“No, Janeway told me. Apparently, Seven’s been keeping a Borg enhanced eye on you since you told her we were thinking about starting a family. I bet she knew before we did.”
“Kahless, I suppose I should confirm things to her before she busts an implant or something.”
Ro slipped her arm around B’Elanna’s shoulders and hugged her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, my mate. When you’re ready, the rest of us will be, too.”
B’Elanna smiled, showing sharp-edged teeth and nipped lightly at Ro’s earlobe. Ro was thankful it she was on her left and not on the side where her Bajoran earring hung. “Come dance with me.”
Ro looked around, found a table and set her wine glass down before letting B’Elanna pull her out onto the dance floor. Not far away, she took note of her assistant security chief, M'Reek, who was dancing with Kelly and wondered how serious that was becoming. She knew M’Reek was a serial monogamous. He was a wonderfully attentive and faithful lover…for the first six months. Then he had a habit of moving on. She hoped Kelly knew that. Janeway and Seven had also taken to the dance floor, and Ro was pleased to see how absorbed they were in each other. If there had been any lingering doubts about the captain and her spouse, one look at the two of them together would make them disappear.
“So, did you find out what happened to turn things around?”
Ro laughed softly. “Sorry, no details, just that they managed to work things out when they were displaced in time.”
“I wonder what did happen? It’s such a strange story.”
“You don’t think they made it up?”
“No, of course not. It’s just…it’s almost as if something sent them back just so they could work it out.”
“What, you mean like ‘Q’ or something?”
“Could Q have done it?”
Ro exhaled, thinking about the omnipotent being who had plagued Picard on occasion and had even encountered Janeway a couple of times. “If he did, and he didn’t want anyone to know, then we’d never know. But I think if he had anything to do with it, he’d want credit. He’s not exactly the subtle type.”
“True. I guess we’ll never know.”
“Not unless something similar comes up in the future,” Ro agreed. She pulled B’Elanna closer, enjoying the slow music that was playing. Her hands rested lightly in the small of her back and wickedly, she massaged lightly. B’Elanna’s head came up and she looked at her with a decided gleam in her dark eyes.
“Why bangwI', do you have something in mind?”
Ro nuzzled her neck, inhaling the musky scent of her olive skin with quiet pleasure. “Oh, I have many things in mind, mate of mine.”
“Is that anyway for a mother-to-be to act?” B’Elanna growled playfully in her ear.
The comment struck her like a phaser blast and Ro needed a moment to catch her breath. She wondered how something could feel so terrifying and amazing at the same time, but she supposed she should get used to it.
“Laren?” B’Elanna was regarding her with an odd expression.
“Sorry, went away for a second. This is a big deal, us having a child, you know. It just hits me so often how big it really is.”
“I agree, but we knew it going in. That’s why we talked about it so much.” B’Elanna hugged her tightly, her compact form snuggling into Ro’s leaner body. “We’ll do all right.”
Ro kissed her lightly. “I know we will.” She kissed her again, deepening it this time, slipping her tongue out to flick along B’Elanna’s lower lip. “Want to go back to our quarters?”
“Well, now that the cake’s done and the presents are opened, I guess we can. No one will miss us.”
Smiling, Ro led her through the crowd, heading for the door. Just before they reached it, she glanced back to see Janeway and Seven in front of the viewports, the shooting stars making a striking backdrop for their swaying forms locked in a timeless embrace.
Still dancing, still smiling, and still so very much in love with each other.
Just the way it should be, Ro decided.
Epilogue
“What’s this?”
Admiral Nechayev picked up the padd her assistant, Michael Patterson, dropped on her desk and scanned it, frowning as the data was absorbed. “Where did this come from?”
“The temporal archives. This one recently became activated and was sent upstairs.” He took a seat in the chair opposite her. A ruggedly handsome man, he filled out his uniform with the most interesting musculature. The thought he was married and so happily to the widow of one of Starfleet’s more respected admirals always gave a mild twinge of regret to Nechayev. “You see the name that keep popping up?”
Nechayev felt her mouth tighten disapprovingly. “For someone who claims to hate temporal anomalies so much, she certainly keeps dropping into the middle of them, doesn’t she?”
“Well, this has already happened,” Michael noted in a reasonable tone.
“But it hasn’t happened yet,” Nechayev agreed, feeling the sort of mental ache that came along with discussing temporal mechanics. “In any event, there’s nothing that can be done until Millennium’s back in the Alpha Quadrant. That won’t be for a few months.”
“But you’re going to make the arrangements?”
Nechayev lifted her gaze to meet his level eyes. “I pretty much have to, don’t I?” The words were bitter in her mouth. Despite being a career officer, she really hated being forced into doing things, particularly those over which she had no control. “Don’t worry, Commander, I’ll take care of it.”
He nodded, rising from his chair as he took that as a dismissal. Nechayev stared dismally at the padd, going over the information one more time.
Why did the Guardian of Forever require Captain Kathryn Janeway’s presence at the specified time in the future? Requested of Starfleet some forty-six years earlier?
And what could happen to the myriad of timelines if she didn’t make the appointment?
The End