Anointed Ancestor
G. L. Dartt
Entering the living quarters after a long day of personnel reports and lower deck inspections, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Starfleet fast explorer Millennium reached for the fastening of her tunic, letting it hang loose. She was tired, unusual for her since she could go for days during a crisis, burning up her energy reserves without hesitation. But tedium tended to wear on her, both mentally and physically, and she hoped that her ship would encounter something other than the mundane, even as she knew that was a dangerous precedent of being careful of what she wished for. Glancing around the cabin, she took in the empty kitchenette to her right, and the dining area before her beneath the large viewport showing the backdrop of space, the stars mere streaks in the distorting field of the warp drive. Around the corner of the private turbolift, the living space contained two sofas and a chair as well as the double work station against the far bulkhead. It was also devoid of any living soul.
“Darling, I’m home,” she called as she slipped out of her uniform tunic. “Are you?”
“I am in the bedroom, Kathryn,” came the cool, precise tones of her spouse.
Turning the corner fully so she could look through the open door leading to the bedroom, she faltered slightly as she spotted Seven of Nine, the familiar and unfamiliar colliding in a not unpleasant way. Familiar because this was Seven and Janeway knew every inch of her spouse as intimately as it was possible for her to know anyone, but unfamiliar because Seven was out of the uniform of the science department, and was instead dressed in an old biometric outfit that, as far as Janeway knew, Seven had never worn on this vessel.
The suit was of a metallic blue material, little sparks glittering as it caught the reflection of the muted illumination overhead. Stiletto heels provided a few more inches to Seven’s already formidable height, and Janeway felt her breath catch, the beat of her heart accelerating as she took in the full length of her beloved Borg.
“What’s the occasion?’ she asked as she entered the room, and tossed her tunic in the general direction of the chair located by the replicator, intending to recycle it later. She never took her eyes off Seven, so she had no idea if the article of clothing had made it or instead, had fallen short to crumple on the floor. As her knees weakened slightly, she leaned against the frame of the door for support and regarded her spouse with abject admiration. “A belated birthday present?”
Seven flashed her a sideways glance, away from the full-length mirror. The silver ocular implant that curved around her left eye rose as she took in Janeway’s expression. “Not at all. I was merely curious,” she explained, and there was a slight quirk to the corner of her full lips, indicating her amusement. “I wished to know how it made me feel to wear this again.”
“I didn’t know you had brought any of your old outfits with you.”
“After our last mission in the Beta Quadrant, I thought it might provide a certain enhancement to our liaisons,” Seven explained. “When we were caught in the time loop, you indicated a decided preference for seeing me dressed in such a way.”
“Not preference, exactly,” Janeway admitted. “Perhaps just a sense of appreciation for how it made me feel, acknowledging the association it implied.” She ran her eyes up and down Seven, taking in every curve and line. The outfit was skintight, and completely different from how the Starfleet uniform covered Seven and made her less…unique?...than what she was. Janeway wasn’t sure that was the word, but there was no question that this outfit inspired interesting emotions in her.
Turning back to contemplate her reflection in the mirror, Seven’s expression grew pensive. “It evokes memories,” she admitted. “Things were simpler on Voyager.”
Janeway let out her breath slowly as she considered that. “Not necessarily simpler,” she said. “Just newer. All the experiences were for the first time. All the emotions were fresh. You had never experienced them before.” She paused, smiling a little. “Some I had never experienced before.”
“Indeed,” Seven agreed. Her head tilted slightly, her brilliant blue eyes narrowing. “How do you prefer me, Kathryn?”
That jolted Janeway out of pleasant, lascivious fog she’d been indulging and back into the keen awareness that her spouse had been going through a series of emotional changes and growth recently that occasionally left Janeway feeling a bit tentative now and again. Not scared precisely, because Seven was steadfast in her continued devotion to her, but not altogether assured of where Seven’s path was leading her.
And was subsequently leading her. Because wherever Seven went, Janeway was bound to follow in one way or another.
“It’s not a matter of preference, my darling,” she said cautiously. “I adore seeing you in both that outfit and in your Starfleet uniform.” She exhaled slowly and added playfully, hoping to ease the sudden edge she felt. “Perhaps my favorite, though, is when you’re in neither.”
That provoked another flash of smile from Seven. “Yes, I am aware of that aspect of your attraction as well,” she said. She lifted her chin slightly. “Seeing me in this arouses you.”
“It does, greatly,” Janeway admitted freely. “But truth be told, my attraction for you was immediate. I remember the first time I saw you on the Borg cube. Even then, there was spark of individuality, of uniqueness, that drew me to you.”
“I remember,” Seven said and lifted her eyes so that they met Janeway’s in the mirror. “Sometimes it concerns me that my ‘individuality’, as you define it, is becoming lost in a Starfleet uniform.”
Janeway considered that with all the care that she would an explosive device and fell back on the approach that had served her well over the years when dealing with Seven. “There’s no question that Starfleet outfits are designed to bring uniformity to those who serve, but it’s not meant to stifle individuality.” And then, neatly turned it around. “Do you feel I’m not individual enough?”
Seven lifted her brows, her eyes lightening. “You are most unique, Kathryn,” she said. “There will never be any question of that. However, Starfleet is part of your uniqueness. Being a starship captain is part of your individuality.”
“True, and having been Borg is part of yours. However, neither aspect define us entirely.” Janeway straightened from her position at the door and moved over so that she was behind Seven, peering past her shoulder to meet her gaze in the reflection. Slipping her arms around the slender waist, she pressed against the warmth of Seven’s body. “It’s all bits and pieces of who we are, darling. Loving you, you loving me, that makes us unique as well.”
“Yes,” Seven said, confidently, as if completely understanding what Janeway was saying, which was a relief, because Janeway wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to say. The waters had become somewhat murky in past months as Janeway tried to navigate her way with her spouse. But she did know that love would see them through. It always did.
“Still,” Seven added as they contemplated each other in the mirror, her in her biomesh outfit, and Janeway in her uniform pants and red sweater, the four pips of her captaincy glinting slightly at her neck. “On Voyager, it was easier.”
“Not easier, love,” Janeway said, turning her head to rest it against Seven’s shoulder blade, closing her eyes as she leaned into Seven’s strong back. Seven rested her arms on Janeway’s, hugging them tighter to her. “The distance of time just makes it seem that way. In any event, you can’t go back. You can only move forward. That’s life.”
“It is,” Seven agreed, her voice a comforting purr beneath Janeway’s cheek.
They stood there for a few moments in comforting embrace, Janeway feeling herself restored and renewed, her lethargy now dissipated, her normal energy levels returning to full capacity and beyond. Being with Seven was like that sometimes. The biomesh material beneath Janeway’s cheek felt at once strange and thrilling, yet familiar and almost melancholy as well. They had come so far from those days on the little ship lost in the Delta Quadrant, to this behemoth that explored the galaxy with clear and arrogant confidence under Janeway’s command.
Then Seven grasped Janeway’s wrists, pulling out of her embrace, but only so she could turn and step fully into a new one, dipping her head to cover Janeway’s mouth in a warm and wonderful kiss. Janeway submerged herself into it completely, snuggled up against the full curves of Seven’s chest, the sweetness of her lips a balm against her own. She didn’t resist as Seven gently but firmly began to guide her backward until they came up against the bed, the end of the mattress hitting the back of Janeway’s knees and buckling them as Seven’s weight bore her down onto the soft cushion of the blankets.
Janeway’s fingers dug into the tight bun of Seven’s French twist, loosening it with smooth familiarity, setting the thick blonde locks free to fall about their faces as they continued to kiss, a long unbroken connection of lips and tongue moving against the other’s. Then she dropped her hand to the back of Seven’s neck, fingers moving just so to unfasten the biomesh suit, the material losing cohesion in a rush to fall from Seven’s full body like a metallic blue puddle of liquid. As she did, Seven’s hands were removing Janeway’s uniform with a skill born of many years of practice, first the sweater and undergarment, then the trousers and underwear, while Janeway kicked off her boots with gleeful abandon.
Naked finally, the unclothing preliminaries out of the way, they fell together in the center of the bed, hands moving over each other with warm delight. Janeway took keen notice and pleasure in caressing the hard and spiky Borg implants that Seven retained, the starbursts on her biceps and collarbone, the dual circles on the dimples at the small of her back, the mesh that radiated over her right thigh and up from her left hand to her wrist, each as precious to Janeway as the soft swell of Seven’s abdomen and buttocks or the smooth silkiness of her skin.
Seven reacted with appreciation, the scarred skin around each implant quivering beneath Janeway’s fingertips, responding to her touch as ardently as the rest of her body untouched now by the metal cybernetics of her time with the Collective. Janeway groaned and arched under Seven’s hands and mouth, possessed fully as Seven had so many times in the past, taking command of the captain and conquering her fully, leaving her limp and boneless in the aftermath.
“Oh,” she managed after a while as they lay there in a languid embrace mutual satisfaction. “That was lovely.”
“Indeed,” Seven agreed. “I shall wear my outfit on future occasions.”
“That would be nice,” Janeway allowed contentedly. On Voyager, when Seven was more Borg in behavior, seeing her as more Human, in normal clothes, had aroused Janeway greatly, and conversely, now that her demeanor was more Human most of the time on Millennium, Janeway was turned on by seeing her previous Borg-like nature. It was a dichotomy that perhaps Janeway should not look too closely at lest it reveal something about herself that was better left alone.
“Kathryn?”
“Hmm?” Janeway said lazily as Seven leaned over her and began to kiss her breasts again, lips trailing between each nipple, teasing them once more into pleased attention.
“What would you like for dinner?” Seven meandered down Janeway’s stomach, nibbling a path over her abdomen.
“I was thinking perhaps a large helping of you as the main course,” Janeway admitted happily. “Perhaps with a small serving of you for dessert.”
“That can be arranged,” Seven murmured as she settled between Janeway’s thighs, her warm breath flowing tantalizingly over the sensitive flesh there. “After I have dined, of course.”
“Of course,” Janeway exhaled, and squeezed her eyes shut tightly in ecstatic joy as Seven began her feast. There was something so exquisitely thrilling about Seven’s touch, the way her tongue played over Janeway, the delicate skill in which she teased and tormented and finally loved her with consummate completion.
Sinking down into a golden glow of satisfaction, Janeway reached for Seven, wanting nothing more than to return the exquisite sensation, fully occupied with the single goal of pleasing her spouse in every way possible.
Seven stood behind the kitchenette counter, slicing sweet red peppers into long, thin strips, dressed now in a skimpy robe that barely reached mid-thigh. Janeway, meanwhile, had donned pants and a shirt and was out in the arboretum, playing fetch with their dog, Jake, in lieu in going for a walk around the ship which was her normal habit in the evening. Dinner was late because of their pleasant interlude in the bedroom, and Seven decided on something light, something that wouldn’t weigh on their stomachs once they went to bed.
Assuming they went to sleep immediately. She smiled faintly as she contemplated their earlier encounter, sparked by her donning her old biometric suit. She had known that once Janeway saw her in it, she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off her. Indeed, she was somewhat impressed by Janeway’s restraint, allowing Seven to set the pace of their encounter rather than initiate it herself, regardless of how aroused she had been. And she’d been instantly aroused. Seven had easily detected it in the dilation of Janeway’s pupils, the shifting of her muscular beneath her uniform, the way she had wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, and how her respiration and heart rate had spiked even as she stood at apparent ease in the doorway.
It was amusing to provoke Janeway in this manner, she decided. Part of being playful within their relationship. Even more important now after years of togetherness than it had been in the early part of their affiliation. Any relationship, if not love itself, required nurturing and attention paid to it, to grow and expand as the individuals within evolved. That was a lesson learned early and often on Voyager.
“What’s for dinner?” Janeway asked as she entered from the arboretum. She had left Jake behind to enjoy his supper and play on his own among the lawn and flowers and dwarf apple tree. She had an apple from the tree in her hand, a red and golden fruit that she tossed to Seven who caught it neatly in her left hand and placed it in the bowl with the others. “We need to find someone to take those,” she added. “We can’t possibly eat all of them ourselves.”
“There are many on the ship who enjoy fresh fruit,” Seven said. “I intend to take the bowl to Sydney’s quarters now that she has been released from sickbay.” The ship’s counselor had been injured on a recent away mission. During their time planet side, an earthquake had struck and Dr. Stone had been trapped in the collapsed rubble of a temple.
“I’m sure she’ll like that.” Janeway slipped onto the stool and took a sliver of pepper, chewing on the end. “Dinner?”
Seven flashed a smile. “Caesar salad and a quesadilla,” she said. “Quickly made.”
Janeway smiled and flicked her gaze upward. Music was playing softly over the computer’s speakers. “I like this. What is it?”
“Gladys Knight,” Seven said. “A singer from the mid-20th century of Earth. It is a genre of music known as rhythm and blues. Or perhaps soul. I am not entirely sure of the distinction.”
“Well, you’re definitely the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Janeway said, echoing the lyrics.
Seven smiled. “As you are for me.” She handed Janeway a bowl containing the salad. “Please, set the table.”
As Janeway complied, Seven finished the quesadillas and placed them in the oven for baking. While she waited for them to crisp to a golden brown, she discovered she was reacting to the next song, swaying in place, humming under her breath. Janeway, putting the plates and silverware on the table, looked over and smiled, her expression tender as if she found something touching about how Seven was responding to the song that was all about some train returning to Georgia at zero hundred hours. Seven believed the destination to be a geopolitical area in the Eurasian region.
“You know, you’d never dance like that on Voyager,” Janeway said, amused as they sat down to dinner a few minutes later.
“I would not listen to music for pleasure on Voyager, either,” Seven pointed out. “I would have believed both endeavors to be an inefficient waste of my time. Much has changed since then.”
“That it has,” Janeway said complacently as she took a forkful of quesadilla, smothered it in sour cream and popped it into her mouth. “Certainly, your cooking continues to improve.”
“All actions improve with practice,” Seven said. “This is a meal I have made many times.” She paused. “Gretchen included some new recipes in her letter that I intend to try over the next few days.”
“Well, you know how much I enjoy being your guinea pig,” Janeway said. “What else did my mother have to say?”
Though Millennium was on a deep space mission to the Gamma Quadrant, out of immediate touch with the Federation, every so often, the ship would stop and open a small slipstream conduit to predetermined coordinates, sending through a message packet via a deep space probe with reports on their progress. Starfleet, in turn, would send one back containing data that included updated news and letters for the crew. Janeway and Seven had each received mail from Gretchen, and Janeway’s sister, Phoebe. There had even been a letter from Seven’s mother, Erin, though Seven had yet to read it. Her feelings for her mother, recovering from her traumatic severing from the Collective a few years earlier, remained complicated.
“I am unsure she would tell me something she would not tell you,” Seven said.
“On the contrary, she tells you all the news from the community that she thinks bores me,” Janeway said.
“Does it not?”
“Well, yes, it does, but not when you tell it,” Janeway explained. “When you inform me that Old Man Leroy’s cow has just had a bull calf, it’s charming.”
“As a matter of fact, the animal in question has given birth,” Seven said, knowing there was another layer to this conversation that she didn’t quite recognize. “Only it was not a bull calf, it was female.”
“Wonderful,” Janeway said, smiling broadly. “What else?”
“It is what you deem to be gossip,” Seven pointed out.
“Something Mother would never admit to indulging,” Janeway said, offering a short, sharp burst of glee. “Except she does it all the time with you.”
“Ah, it is your mother’s behavior that amuses you,” Seven said, enlightened.
“Precisely,” Janeway said. “Now then, what’s all the gossip back home?”
Still a little unsure as to why Janeway wanted to know, Seven nonetheless spent the next hour filling Janeway in on all the recent events occurring in the Brown County Agricultural Park where Janeway had grown up and, according to her, couldn’t wait to leave for Starfleet Academy. From her frequent utterances of mirth, however, she apparently enjoyed catching up on Gretchen’s neighbors and friends. Then they went to bed, made love again with slow, deep pleasure, and slept the rest of the night away.
The next morning, Seven spent a few hours on the bridge monitoring the quasar rather than report directly to her astrometrics lab. As a result, she was present when the unusual reading came across her console. She studied it for several minutes, unable to fully determine the ramifications of the oddity. Exhaling quietly, she looked to her left at the captain’s chair, where Lt. T’Shanik, the ship’s navigation officer and Janeway’s command candidate sat supervising the bridge. Janeway was currently in her ready room, going over engineering reports. Seven debated briefly, unsure whether T’Shanik could handle it or if it would be better to contact the captain directly. She supposed for the sake of the chain of command, she should bring it to T’Shanik’s attention and allow her to contact Janeway. She chafed at the inefficiency, but recognized that it was a necessary formality within the Starfleet system.
“Lieutenant, the sensors are detecting an odd energy reading.”
T’Shanik’s thin eyebrow raised, the tiniest of frowns turning down the corners of her mouth. “Odd?” she repeated. “In what way?”
“I am unable to make that determination,” Seven said, forcing herself to patience. “That is why it is odd.”
T’Shanik regarded her for a moment, the eyebrow abruptly dipping, but after a second, she nodded and lifted her head. The computer, monitoring such things, activated the comm system. “Captain Janeway to the bridge.”
“On my way.”
Janeway swept out of her ready room so quickly that Seven knew she had been waiting for something, anything, to interrupt her day. There was even a hint of a smile on her face as she claimed the command chair from T’Shanik who assumed her place at the helm, displacing her backup. The computer, upon detecting a call for the captain to the bridge, had also tendered alerts to the rest of the alpha shift officers. Before long, the turbolift doors hissed open to spill out Commander Tuvok, the ship’s exec, Ro Laren who quickly took over tactical, and Kell Rekar who assumed ops.
“Report,” Janeway ordered crisply, once the alpha shift had settled. Her eyes were a bright blue, facial expression expectant and even a little eager. Beside her, Tuvok settled quietly in his seat, a thin eyebrow cocked ever so slightly as he regarded the fore viewscreen.
Seven swallowed back a smile of her own as she brought up the readings on the fore viewscreen, aware of how antsy her spouse became when things were too quiet. “An energy reading coming from the second planet in a system near the quasar. Interference is making it difficult to determine more at this distance. It is a repeating singular pattern, clearly artificial. There is no other indication of technology.”
“Take us in, Lieutenant.” Janeway crossed her legs and leaned back, though Seven knew it was a deliberate effort to look casual. Tuvok, however, had leaned forward slightly, as if something had caught his interest, a tiny furrow between his brows.
“Aye, Captain,” T’Shanik said as she moved her hands lightly over her console. The ship trembled ever so slightly, dropping from warp to impulse and the stars on the fore viewscreen settled into sharp clarity, including the nearest sun that glared with a reddish glint as they entered the system. It possessed only four planets and only the second was barely habitable, though no lifesigns were detected by the scans.
The planet’s surface was a lurid purple and turquoise, streaked with gray cloud and Seven wasn’t entirely sure which was water and which was land until she had performed deeper scans. The M-classification made it habitable, but the mix of breathable gases were on the fine line of being toxic. It wouldn’t smell good, nor would it be advisable to exert one’s self for an extended period.
“Any more on the signal?”
Seven coaxed more from her readings, and was finally able to pinpoint the source of the energy spike, originating on the coastline of a small island within the purple seas. But she was unable to define any more, either what exactly the signal was, or how it was generated.
Janeway smiled when informed of this failure, and Seven resisted the urge to sigh.
“Away mission, it is, then,” the captain said. “Best go down and take a look for ourselves.”
Ro Laren let out her breath in a huff and glared at the captain who didn’t seem intimidated in the least. Her argument against Janeway accompanying the away mission had fallen on deaf ears, as usual, and she was beginning to wonder why she bothered. Janeway went where and when she wanted and Ro would just have to accept it. The only unusual thing was that Janeway had to talk Tuvok into her commanding the away mission rather than him and the conversation took a little longer than the security chief anticipated. Ro wasn’t sure what it was about this mission, this odd signal and this ugly planet that so interested her superior officers. She was more than capable of taking a team down and investigating what was happening on the ground.
Securing the phaser on her hip, tricorder on the other and a survival pouch at the small of her back, she turned her attention to the rest of the away team. She had declined to bring along any of their guests, the Jem’Hadar or the Breen for this mission, eschewing instead to bring D’Or, the thin, wiry Bajoran, and Morris, the short, stocky, blue-skinned Bolian, two stalwarts of her security detail. Seven and T’Shanik rounded out the team, and as they all took their place on the transporter dais, Ro kept a close eye on the captain.
The wind hit them as soon as they materialized, a steady gale bringing along with it grit and dust from the surrounding landscape. The vegetation was a sickly turquoise amid jagged, veined rocks, and the purplish sea was thick with algae. Above, the thick clouds, dark gray, flashed intermittently as thunder rumbled low and steady on the horizon.
“Lovely,” Janeway muttered.
Well, Ro thought with a touch of satisfaction, she had wanted to come along.
Seven held up her tricorder. “This way,” she said, turning around and looking inland. There was a rise behind them, not particularly high, but steep, covered with stunted trees, tangled bushes and long grass. “Beyond this ridge.”
They left the windswept beach and moved into the vegetation that looked as if it was barely surviving against the wind, while the edges of the wispy grasses slashed against their legs as the away team began to climb the slope. The tough fabric of their uniforms protected them for the most part, but they had to be careful where they put their hands as they grabbed the trees for support. The outer bark, rough like sandpaper, crumbled under their touch, but the inner core of the branches remained intact, flexible and vine-like as they found purchase among the rocks and roots.
“Can you determine anything more about the signal now that we’re closer?” Janeway asked, panting slightly as she clambered past a jumbled outcrop of stones.
Seven glanced back over her shoulder. “Readings indicate it is a vessel, Captain, Federation in origin.”
Stunned, Janeway stopped short and Ro nearly ran into her. D’Or was not as graceful, colliding with T’Shanik. Hasty apologies were exchanged as they untangled themselves while Morris looked on with a wry grin on her bluish features.
“Federation? Are you sure? What’s a Federation vessel doing out here?”
“Unknown, Captain.” Seven had continued her climb and was nearly at the crest of the ridge, apparently unaware the rest of the away team had stopped behind her. “I presume we will know more once we see it.”
Then she was standing at the top, highlighted by the dark clouds above, a solitary figure in stark outline. Ro found it quite dramatic in a way, made even more so when Seven abruptly disappeared.
“Seven!”
Ro began to scramble up the slope with Janeway barely a step behind her, When they reached the top, they could see where the debris of a small spaceship lay in a gully below. The deep furrows in the ground indicated where it had skidded down the far slope, coming to rest against the demolished remains of a small structure in the center of the depression. As for Seven, a quick search revealed a ragged hole where she had been standing, as if the earth had crumbled beneath her. Frantic, Janeway leaned over it as Ro grabbed at the back of her tunic to make sure she didn’t go down after her.
“Seven! Annika! Are you all right?”
“I am uninjured, Kathryn,” came the reassuring cool tones from below. “I have fallen into a cavern of some kind. However, the drop is significant. Without the enhancement I possess, it would be a dangerous descent. I suggest you move on to the crash site while I find another exit.”
“We’re not going to leave you behind.” Janeway sounded more exasperated and less distraught. “We’ll find a way to get you out.”
“Captain, please, let me assess the situation,” Ro pleaded.
To her relief, Janeway took a step back and allowed Ro to take her place next to the opening. Using her wrist lamp, Ro peered into the darkness below. She spotted Seven standing some ten meters down, her uniform dusty and disarrayed but she seemed otherwise unhurt. She didn’t even look up, tricorder held out before her as she scanned her surroundings.
Splashing her light around the cavern below, Ro realized it was not a natural formation, but rather, a large room of some kind, the walls constructed of smooth interlocking stone. Seven hadn’t fallen into a cave, she had gone through the roof of something so old that nature had covered it over, making it part of the landscape. Ro glanced left and right, seeing how far the construct extended. It appeared to be a huge complex and what they thought had been a small valley was instead, a vast courtyard of some kind.
But Seven was right in saying that it was too far down for the rest of them to drop without the aid of ropes, which they didn’t have with them.
“Are you sure there’s a way out?” Ro called to Seven doubtfully. Several dark doorways led from the room, but there was no way of knowing where they led or if they eventually led to the courtyard. “We can contact the ship, have some climbing gear transported down. It wouldn’t take that long.”
“That would be an unnecessary expenditure of time,” Seven told her. “It is more important that you examine the unidentified vessel. If I cannot find a way out, then I shall contact you again and proceed from there.”
Ro glanced at Janeway who didn’t look as if she agreed with her spouse, but when she looked back into the hole again, Seven had disappeared through one of the doorways, her footsteps barely visible in the thick dust on the floor.
“Damn it.” Ro blew out her breath and lifted her gaze to meet Janeway’s. “She’s gone, Captain. Do we contact the ship?”
Janeway’s lips thinned, but she shook her head. “If Seven believes she can get out of there on her own, I suppose we’ll have to respect her assessment. Rather than waste time chasing after her, let’s examine that ship.”
Her expression was such, however, that Ro suspected there would be a lecture coming Seven’s way once this was over. For now, the rest of the away team could only move forward. Taking care of any weak spots, they made their way over what they now knew was the peak of a roof and descended the slope to the courtyard below.
“This structure is several thousand years old,” T’Shanik remarked. With Seven gone off on her own, she had taken over her duties of science officer, providing the rest with any pertinent information that could be determined from their surroundings. “The ship is more recent, though scans put the crash as occurring thirty-four years ago.”
Reaching the bottom of the slope, Ro dug her toe into the dirt and grass, scrapping back several inches until a pavement was revealed. It was made of the same interlocking stones that made up the walls of the room. Looking around, she could see dark openings here and there, nearly obscured by the growth of vigorous trees and bushes but indicating that they had once been entrances to the complex around them, easily spotted now that she knew what she was dealing with. Perhaps Seven had not been so presumptuous after all in believing she could find a way out on her own.
“Do we have an ID on the vessel?” Janeway said as they picked their way through the dispersed debris field. There was no indication that any of the crash site had been touched in the three and a half decades since it had first been scattered there.
“A small two-to-four-person craft, Captain,” T’Shanik said. “Danube Class Runabout. Capable of long-range missions, but usually attached to space stations and outlying outposts. Not anything that should be out this far, and the registration is not coming up in the database. It may have been falsified.”
“The signal is not the standard Federation distress call, either,” Ro said as they reached the larger pieces of the ship, including what could only be the cockpit. While D’Or and Morris spread out to maintain a perimeter, she climbed up on the nose where it had checked up against a protrusion of some kind, perhaps a statue or fountain. A strong gust of wind threatened to blow her from her unsteady perch and she had to grip tightly to a metal stanchion. Peering inside the shattered remains of the fore viewport, she could see inside where a collection of cables and consoles were tied into the comm system. “Whoever rigged this could only send out a repeating energy pulse, not a message or pattern of any kind. A single, artificial beacon, weak, but long lasting. They probably knew that Federation encoding wouldn’t exactly be recognized here in the Gamma Quadrant, and could only send out an indication they were here rather than any kind of identification. It’s possible they didn’t want to be identified as being from the Alpha Quadrant.”
“So, there were survivors?” Janeway looked up at Ro, arms across her chest as if protecting herself from the wind. “Any suggestion as to where they went?”
“Captain, it is unlikely anyone has survived this long,” Ro said as she crawled off the wreckage. “Even if they were uninjured in the crash, this planet isn’t conducive to long-term survival. Not thirty-four years worth. The toxins in the atmosphere, the lack of viable vegetation, the limited rations a vessel this size would carry…we’re undoubtedly looking at recovery, not rescue.”
“You’re probably correct, Commander,” Janeway said, jaw moving slightly as if she was tasting something unpleasant. “But we need to determine where they went. If for no other reason than to make an identification and bring about a resolution of their story. Any sign of which direction we should search?”
“We could search while you return to the ship, Captain,” Ro suggested as she joined Janeway next to the crumbled stone where the ship had hit. She could see it had been a fountain, now that she was looking at it closer. “The weather looks as if it’s about to get nasty.”
As if to echo her words, the clouds above took that moment to unload the moisture they held, apparently attempting to get rid of it all at once. Rain pelted down, big, fat drops that struck so strongly, it was almost painful.
Janeway flashed Ro a grin as her body hunched against the driving precipitation. “And give up this chance to be outside, Laren?” She shook her head, a trickle of water running off the tip of her nose.
“Captain, it appears there are faint marks indicating the survivors were moving back and forth between here and that opening there,” T’Shanik offered, pointing toward the far end.
“Then let’s get out of the rain,” Janeway ordered. “And for heaven’s sake, we need to find out where Seven has ended up.”
Seven found the air within the corridors heavy and thick with dust, her wrist lamp barely penetrating the particles drifting in the air. Rather than force her nanoprobes to continually scrub her nostrils and lungs, she drew the neck of her sweater up over the lower part of her face, filtering out the worst of the powder thrown up by her passage. Aside from that, however, the ruins were in remarkable condition, the construction standing up well to the ravages of time. It helped, she supposed, that the planet was uninhabited. Whatever had happened to the original builders had left the structure intact and it was only nature that had worked on it in the ensuing centuries.
The interior was a maze of corridors and rooms but her tricorder kept her from going in circles, mapping each hallway and having enough range to let her know if it led anywhere or ended in a room with no further access. She did have to backtrack a few times when more roof collapses blocked access to passageways, but overall, she kept moving in a steady direction through the structure toward the inner courtyard.
Her footsteps were barely audible, cushioned by the thick dust beneath her feet, and the darkness made the temperature feel warmer than what it was. As she walked, Seven wondered what had happened to the builders of this ruined palace, and what kind of beings they had been. Their structure was strangely empty, with no furnishings or artwork to bear witness to their passing. Either everything of that type had been removed, or had been made of materials that had long since rotted away. Only the stone remained.
She faltered as the corridor she was in opened into a room, larger than any she had encountered. The beam from her lamp flashed over something across the space, and as she approached, she realized she had happened upon the living area of whoever had survived the crash.
Dust lay heavy upon the cot and surrounding containers bearing the Federation logo. There was a water purifier, a small cooking element and the long dead remains of a campfire. But there were no bodies and no indication that anyone had been there for a long time. Seven scanned everything as thoroughly as possible, hoping to come across something that would identify who had been out here.
A multitude of vessels had vanished into the Bajoran Badlands over the centuries, numbering in the thousands, many of them believed to have traversed the wormhole into the Gamma Quadrant where they were lost to the Dominion. But information of their fates had been difficult to gather. The Changelings had not kept records of those lost vessels, and very few had been tracked by the Federation after the war granted access to this part of space. Was it possible that this vessel had been lost, made its way through the entirety of Dominion space and traveled this far from what would logically be their only way home? This planet was not on the way to the Alpha Quadrant. Indeed, it was in the opposite direction, which was why the USS Millennium had encountered it. Extending the reach of the Federation was its mission parameters.
Still, if this one Federation vessel had been pursued by Dominion forces, they wouldn’t have cared about which direction they were going if it meant escape. Had they escaped? The reason for the crash had yet to be determined. And if they had slipped from the Changelings and the Jem’Hadar, it would be tragically ironic for them to have been forced down from mere mechanical difficulties.
Seven was aware that at one point, she would not have even considered the tragedy of such a fate. Such was her personal evolution over the past years that she could emphasize with beings she did not know to the point that tears stung her eyes as she regarded the poor remains of the campsite. Had someone sat here night after night, alone and afraid, hoping beyond reason that their feeble cry for help would somehow be heard, yet equally terrified that it would by someone from the Dominion? Knowing that they were so far from home and unlikely to ever receive the opportunity to return? Seven swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, embarrassed that she was being so maudlin and happy that there was no one around to witness it.
So many emotions all at once. That was the difficult part of growing, she thought. It was easier when she could look at things in strictly logical terms, as issues on one side or the other, as dispassionate elements of a situation rather than imagining herself, or worse, the people she loved, in similar circumstances. She’d been told by both Janeway and Counselor Stone that eventually her complex mix of emotions would not be so powerful, would be easier to balance and channel. She hoped it would be soon.
A glimmer from the gloom caught her eye, and her sadness was immediately replaced with inquisitiveness. Following the faint glow, she crossed the room to discover a small alcove. A small thrill resonated through her chest as she realized it was from a power source and that it was still active. Her excitement grew when she realized the power source was attached to the larger bulk of a stasis pod.
Astounded, Seven leaned over the coffin-like tube, using her hand to brush away the thick layer of dust covering the Plexiglas window. The figure inside was hard to observe through the grit and her wrist-lamp’s tendency to reflect off rather than penetrate the transparency.
Impatiently, Seven shrugged out of her tunic and used it to clean away the accumulated dirt, rubbing vigorously until she could shine her light into the interior of the pod. She studied the serene features of the woman inside with profound wonder.
Fine lines edged the corners of eyes and mouth, indicating the age of a Vulcan female. Delicately pointed ears were visible, the thick, dark hair, threaded with silver, pulled back from the finely cheek-boned features. She was dressed in a simple tunic, and was so well preserved, she appeared to be asleep.
Seven hoped that was so, searching the pod for any kind of display. She found it near the base of the tube, the readings barely discernable through the dirt. Utilizing her tunic one more, she knelt and scrubbed at the small screen until she could evaluate the findings.
“Seven!”
Startled, Seven overbalanced and fell over, sprawling in the dust as the rest of the away team materialized from the gloom behind her. She sourly accepted the proffered hand Janeway offered, pulling herself up, but the captain didn’t appear to notice her spouse’s disgruntlement, her attention fully on the stasis pod.
“This is amazing,” she said. “Ro?”
“It appears viable, Captain,” Ro said, studying the power cell with fascination. “Not sure how, but she managed to jury-rig the vessel’s life support system to power the stasis pod.”
“I wonder who she is?” Janeway marveled.
T’Shanik, peering intently into the stasis chamber, seemed to grow a bit pale. “I know who she is,” she said in an oddly flat tone.
That garnered the attention of the entire away team, including Seven.
“Explain,” Janeway barked.
T’Shanik turned her head to regard them soberly. “I believe this is Admiral Saavik.”
A silence fell, a mix of shock, consternation and bewilderment. Janeway’s jaw had slackened, and Ro’s eyes had widened so that Seven could see the whites around the irises. D’Or and Morris exchanged glances, matching expressions of befuddlement indicating they didn’t have a clue who that was.
Seven didn’t either, not exactly, but she had heard the name before and was aware that whoever this Vulcan woman was, she was related to the ship’s counselor, a tiny tidbit of information she had accumulated via a bout of shameless eavesdropping on her spouse and Ro months earlier. Clearly, the name was also significant to T’Shanik, whose normally impassive features were altered into an expression of respectful awe.
“We need to get the pod back to the ship,” Janeway said, finally finding her voice. She touched the communicator on her left breast. “Janeway to Millennium.”
There was no response and that’s when they realized the structure around them was blocking the signal. It was possible the mineral in the stone was even the source of the interference that had prevented Seven’s sensors from making more precise scans of the crash site.
“Outside,” Janeway instructed shortly. She nodded at the security officers. “You two remain here with the pod.”
Leaving D’Or and Morris to guard the stasis tube, Janeway led Ro, T’Shanik and Seven back to the courtyard. Seven was slightly surprised to discover it was raining. As she stood in the poor shelter of the entrance, she looked out at the storm, flinching slightly at the flashes of lightning and accompanying thunder, despite her best efforts to remain unmoved, as Janeway contacted the ship, explained the situation, and requested a recovery team.
After being assured that a team was being assembled as quickly as possible, Janeway turned her attention to Seven, who took one look at those stormy grey eyes and prepared herself for the lecture.
“What were you thinking?” Janeway demanded in a low tone as she pulled Seven aside into another alcove away from the entrance and the rain.
“Regarding what?” Seven said, calmly.
“Going off on your own, and remaining out of contact,” Janeway said.
“I did not exactly ‘go off on my own’,” Seven pointed out. “I encountered a weakened area of the complex and fell through to the chamber below. There was no way for me to climb back up or you to climb down to join me. Waiting for the ship to be contacted and climbing gear to be acquired and transported down would have been both inefficient and unnecessary. As for communications, the structure is constructed of a type of mineral that blocks the signal. I am not responsible for that, either.” She paused, exhaling slowly. “I know it worried you, Kathryn. I cannot help but point out that had you remained on the ship, the outcome would have been the same and you have been unaware of the precise events. Had she been in command, Ro would not have questioned my ability to find my way out of the complex.”
“Or she would have gone down after you,” Janeway said.
“Yes, she might have been able to climb down, as would Ensign Morris. Both are in superb physical condition and have advanced tactical training. T’Shanik and D’Or would have been more problematic. They, like you, lack the training and physical capabilities to make such a descent without proper climbing gear.” Seven realized she shouldn’t have pointed out that limitation when she said the flinch in Janeway’s jawline.
Without hesitation, she reached out and enfolded the captain into her arms, ignoring the muffled protest. Janeway was stiff for a moment before finally relaxing into the embrace, resting her head on Seven’s chest. “You’re saying I’m too old to be going on away missions.”
“I did not say that at all,” Seven told her with a touch of admonishment. “I said that you lacked certain physical attributes. That is no fault of your own, any more than it is the fault of D’Or that he lacks the physical strength of a Bolian, or T’Shanik lacks the specialized training of Ro Laren. And none of you enjoy the Borg enhancements that allow me to drop ten meters to a stone surface unharmed.”
“Fine, I forgive you.” Janeway’s voice was muffled.
Seven, unaware she had transgressed to the point she required forgiveness, nonetheless swallowed back her retort and hugged Janeway tighter, knowing that the captain’s irritability came from a source of concern, which in turn came from a source of love.
Back on Millennium, Janeway gratefully removed her mud splattered uniform, tossed it in the replicator to be recycled and stepped beneath the wonderful hot water gushing from the shower faucet. Dirt and dust from the planet washed from her body as she worked shampoo into her hair, trying to rinse away the stench of the planet. Her lungs still ached a little from the toxins in the atmosphere and she inhaled deeply, drawing air to the very pit of her stomach, wanting to cleanse that away as well.
The reverberations from the sonic shower next to her made her teeth itch, but otherwise she tolerated it, knowing that Seven had been even dirtier than her. Fortunately, sonic waves worked even quicker than water, or perhaps it was that Seven didn’t linger in a sonic shower the way Janeway liked to bask in the hot water flowing over her body. Before long, she could hear Seven in the ensuite pulling on her uniform.
“Will you immediately return to duty, Kathryn?” Seven asked. “Or do you have time to eat?”
“I can’t imagine we’ll have any news so soon,” Janeway called back, tilting her head back to allow the water to flow through her hair. “Lunch sounds good.”
“It will actually be dinner, but I will make something light.”
With that promise lingering in her ears, Janeway allowed herself to fully enjoy the rest of her shower, deliberately not thinking about the stasis pod in sickbay where they were in the process of reviving the admiral.
An admiral Janeway had grown up reading about, not only in her adolescence, but also at Starfleet Academy. Saavik’s career had been intriguing, from her time serving on the Enterprise with Captain Kirk and Commander Spock as a cadet, to her subsequent rise through the ranks of Starfleet. Saavik had often found herself in the middle of the most history making events, while at the same time, there was very little detail as to how she had found herself there and what exactly she had done to influence the outcome. A result of being a member of Starfleet Intelligence, Janeway knew. They couldn’t keep her name completely out of the accounts, but they had downplayed it as much as possible. That didn’t keep cadets like Janeway from reading between the lines and formulating their own opinions and hero worship.
Saavik’s disappearance thirty-five years earlier had been the same combination of fact, misinformation and romantic mystery. No one knew what had happened to her, what she’d been doing near Cardassian space and where she’d been headed. It made Janeway almost dizzy to know that she’d the first to find out.
Assuming Saavik could be revived, of course. Pulaski and the Doctor seemed optimistic, but Janeway knew how dangerous it was being kept in stasis over a long period, especially with a suspect power source maintaining the pod’s integrity. Stepping out of the shower, she toweled herself off briskly and put on the freshly replicated uniform. A quick brush of her hair, a final check in the mirror to make sure she was squared away, and then she was through the bedroom and out into the main living area where Seven was working at the small kitchenette, heavenly smells wafting from that direction.
“Who exactly is this Admiral Saavik?” Seven demanded as she stirred chicken, mushrooms, peppers and onion in a skillet. “Should I know her outside of being Sydney’s grandmother?”
“How did you—oh, never mind. You were listening to private conversations again. Admiral Saavik has served in Starfleet for over nearly a hundred years, from her first tour on the Enterprise under James T. Kirk, to winning the medal of honor for the Tomed Incident on the Romulan Neutral Zone. That defeat sent the Romulans back to their sector of space for decades.”
“She’s a starship captain?”
“No, an intelligence agent. No one knows what she’s doing until she shows up to save the day.”
Seven paused in her stirring, taking a second to peer closely at Janeway. “You admire her,” she said. “A great deal.”
“Yes, I do, though to be honest, everything I know about her may or may not be true. That was part of the appeal as well. The mystery of it.”
“Indeed.” Seven returned to her cooking, obviously thinking about this. “What do you think Sydney will feel about this?”
Janeway blinked, snagging a slice of mushroom to chew on as she thought. “I’m not sure. When Saavik disappeared, Sydney would have been a child. I’m not sure what kind of relationship, if any, they had. Still, it might be a bit of a bombshell.”
“Do you suppose you should inform her of the situation?”
“I was thinking of waiting to see if Saavik could be revived,” Janeway admitted. “Otherwise, it’s just confirming what she and her family probably already believed, that she was dead.”
“If you were in Sydney’s position, would you want that?”
Janeway let out her breath. “Fair enough, though Stone is still recovering from the injuries she sustained on our last mission.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“All right, do you want to be there when I tell her? She likes you.”
“Implying she does not like you, I suppose.” Seven put out some tortilla wraps, sour cream, shredded cheese and other toppings, before handing Janeway a plate. “We shall go after dinner.”
Decision made, they ate their fajitas at the kitchenette counter, hunched over to keep the filling from falling onto the floor. After cleaning up, Seven retrieved a bowl of apples while Janeway found Jake’s leash and hooked it to the dog’s collar, figuring she could take him on his walk after talking to Stone. For the moment, Millennium remained in orbit around the ugly purple planet, not only so Ro and a security team could further investigate the crash, but also so the xenometrics department could study the ruins and figure out who may have built them and what happened to them. As a result, the ship’s corridors seemed somewhat quieter than was usual.
Janeway pressed the admittance chime to Stone’s quarters, glancing at Seven briefly as she waited for a response. Seven seemed none the worse for her detour on the planet, though it had been a little nerve-racking for her captain. She had managed not to show it, but when she saw Seven abruptly disappear into that hole and the entire time they had been apart had left her feeling sick inside. She could keep it from affecting her duty as captain, but she would never be able to keep it from affecting her heart.
The door hissed open to reveal Sydney who looked surprised at the identity of her visitors. Perhaps because the captain was there with Seven, because Janeway knew Seven had visited the counselor several times during her recuperation. “Seven, Captain, so good to see you. Come in, please.”
Sydney was solidly built with full curves, long dark hair and green eyes. Janeway might have found her attractive were she not already married to the love of her life, and had Stone not been a psychiatrist. Janeway held a deep distrust of the profession, probably because Starfleet officers were usually expected to place the future of their career in the counselor’s hands after a traumatic experience. Janeway didn’t like having her career in anyone’s hands but her own.
“Thank you, Seven, this is wonderful,” Sydney said as she accepted the apples. “I’ll be sure to share them with Lenara.”
“Is Lenara here?” Seven looked expectantly in the direction of the bedroom, which made Janeway put a hand to her face.
Sydney laughed. “No, she’s in the lab, assisting the xenometrics team.” She glanced at Janeway. “May I offer you a drink?”
“Thank you, no,” Janeway said, though she did accept the seat on the sofa when Stone motioned toward it. Jake obediently lay down at her feet, head up, ears pricked as he looked around the quarters. “I need to tell you something, Counselor. Perhaps you should take a seat.”
Stone blinked, and without saying anything else, sank down in the armchair and regarded Janeway with open curiosity. Janeway was aware of Seven perching on the arm of the sofa and her hand slipping down to rest on shoulder. She appreciated the comfort of her touch.
“During our away mission on the planet’s surface, we recovered a stasis pod,” Janeway said, deciding to be a succinct as possible. “Inside we discovered Admiral Saavik. I understand you are related to her, so as next of kin, I’m formally bringing you up to date on the investigation.”
Sydney reeled back a little, clearly shocked. “You discovered her body?”
“We discovered her,” Janeway clarified. “The pod was viable. I’m not saying they’ll be able to revive her. That’s entirely in the hands of Dr. Pulaski and her medical staff. But it is possible that she'll survive.”
Sydney just stared at her, as if unable to understand what the captain was saying. Janeway glanced up at Seven. “Annika, perhaps a drink for the counselor?”
“Of course, Kathryn,” Seven said, rising smoothly and striding over to the replicator where she programmed in a whiskey. That was Janeway’s drink when she needed a jolt, and while the captain didn’t know if that was what the counselor liked, Sydney accepted the glass from Seven without hesitation and tossed it back in one motion, shuddering a bit.
“Thank you, Seven,” she managed. Shaking her head, she stared into the bottom of the glass. “My mother is Saavik’s daughter, her second child. Her first, a boy, was supposedly the offspring of a pon farr with Commander Spock. I didn’t really know my uncle, and my grandmother wasn’t in our lives much. There was the occasional visit during the holidays, but for the most part, she was as much a mythical figure for me as she was for everyone else.”
“I’m sorry,” Janeway said. She leaned forward and rested her hand on Sydney’s knee. “I know this must be a shock for you.”
“To be honest, Captain, I’m not sure how I feel. It’ll be a bigger shock to my mother. I suppose there’s no way to let her know before the news reaches the Federation.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Janeway promised. “If possible, we’ll try to inform the family as soon as we inform Starfleet Command.”
“Thank you, Captain, you’re very kind.”
“Just trying to manage an improbable and impossible situation,” Janeway said, and offered a smile. “Part of the job description.
Sydney entered sickbay in a fog of shock and trepidation. If this was happening to someone else, she’d know exactly what to say, how best to help them. Living it made it much harder for her to string two thoughts together with any coherency. Janeway had told her that there wasn’t any news, but she couldn’t remain in her quarters after the captain and Seven had left. So here she was in the large medical center, looking around as if she could do something. It was one of the nurses who spotted her and led her into Pulaski’s office.
The grizzled doctor with the bright white shock of hair haloing her lined features looked at her kindly and motioned her to a seat.
“I suppose I know why you’re here. The captain spoke with you?”
“Yes,” Stone said. She and the medical unit were supposed to aligned as far as departments went, but she hadn’t much opportunity to interact with the chief medical officer one-on-one. Recently, it was mostly a doctor/patient relationship with her performing the role of the latter. She regretted that as she searched for something to say. It was such a unique situation that there was no history she could call upon. “Will my grandmother survive?” she blurted.
Pulaski lifted her brows, but otherwise didn’t react. “We hope so. The process of weaning her off the pod’s life support is progressing well. The neural scans aren’t giving us much, but at the same time, we can’t expect any real result until her body revives. Then we’ll be able to determine if there’s any long-term damage.”
“Your opinion?”
“Doesn’t count for much in this situation,” Pulaski replied. “We don’t know when she went into the pod, though it appears that it wasn’t long after the crash, so we’re looking at thirty years give or take of stasis powered by a suspect energy source. Certainly, there have been other instances when worse circumstances have been successfully survived by various individuals.” She glanced at her screen, a brief flicker of her eyes. “From what I can tell, Admiral Saavik has always been a strong person.”
“She’s half Romulan,” Stone said. “Rough childhood. It made her stronger than the average Vulcan.”
“Then I expect that will help her. In any event, she’s the one who programmed the pod before placing herself in it. She must have felt that was the only way she could survive, and she was probably right. The toxins in the planet’s atmosphere would have poisoned her over a long period of time. Slowing down her vitals to the point of near death allowed her to stretch the pod’s atmospheric filtration unit for decades, though it was lucky that we found her when we did. Another couple of years, and the systems would have failed.”
“Luck or perhaps destiny,” Stone said, contemplatively. “My grandmother has always had a knack for being in the right place at the right time. Or to hear my mother tell it, the exact wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You might say our captain has the same knack,” Pulaski said with a grin. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe their paths were destined to intersect.” She leaned forward and patted Stone on the hand. “We’re looking at a few more hours before there’s any real conclusions. Possibly even days. You can’t see her right now; the surgical bay is completely sealed. Even I can’t go in. The hologram is taking care of everything. You might as well return to your quarters and get some sleep. You’re still recovering, you know.”
“I know,” Stone allowed. She reached into her tunic and pulled out one of Seven’s apples, placing it gently on the desk. “Hope this helps.”
Pulaski smiled. “From the captain’s private garden?”
“Apparently.”
“I’ll take it. There’s nothing like organically grown, even if it’s hydroponic style.”
Outside sickbay, Stone lingered, unwilling to return to her quarters, but unsure as to where to go, now. She supposed she could stop by the science labs where Lenara was helping xenometrics oversee the archeological surveys of the planet ruins. Heading down to deck ten, she discovered Lenara in an office with three other scientists. They were watching the various feeds from the staff on the ground on three separate viewscreens. In addition to the archaeology team, biometrics had people taking samples from the local flora and fauna, and geometrics were collecting as many samples of rocks and minerals as they could before the ship had to leave orbit.
Lenara was fully involved in a conversation with Samantha Wildman, and Stone took the opportunity to study the woman with whom she had recently begun a romantic relationship. A statuesque Trill with dignified features, brownish spots running down the side of her face and neck, Lenara was joined with a symbiont, Kahn, possessing the memories of all previous hosts. As a result, she was a touch reserved but with a wicked sense of humor that manifested at the oddest times. She was also quite warm and loving, a loyal friend and possessing a most brilliant mind. Stone wasn’t surprised that she and Seven were close, nor was it so surprising that the captain was the slightest bit threatened by her. Stone was aware she wasn’t supposed to know that last bit, but her analytical mind was quick to evaluate the various ebbs and flows of relationships on a starship and she had noticed the unique tension between Janeway and Lenara whenever they encountered each other.
Lenara spotted Stone and instantly lit up, her dark eyes brightening, and after detaching herself from the rest of the scientists, she moved quickly to join the counselor, pulling her aside into an empty corner of the lab where she kissed her. Stone returned it, grateful for the distraction.
“What’s wrong?” Liara murmured once they finally parted.
“What makes you think anything’s wrong?” Sydney did her best to deflect the inevitable.
“Several lifetimes,” Lenara said logically.
That made Sydney smile, and resigned, she filled Lenara in on what was discovered on the planet and what it might mean for her future.
“Your grandmother?” Lenara leaned against a nearby lab table and stared at Stone, astonishment etching her classic features. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“That’s all right, I don’t know what to think. I always knew there was more to the story than what my parents told me. But what she was doing that brought her all the way out here to the Gamma Quadrant thirty-five years ago is beyond me.”
“Do you think Starfleet knew?”
Stone considered that. “I don’t know. Possibly. It wouldn’t be the first time the highest levels has kept secrets, but I’m not sure how it applies now. I’m confident that the captain will ferret out whatever was going on back then, and what’s going on now. Assuming grandmother pulls through, that is.”
Lenara reached out, taking Stone’s hand. “How do you feel about that? What can I do?”
“I’m not sure how I feel about it,” Stone admitted. “And there’s nothing you can do, beyond what you’re doing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Loving me, I hope.”
“Yes,” Lenara said, pulling her close into a warm embrace. “That, I can do.”
Lenara’s mouth was warm on Stone’s, soft lips and the sweet taste of her tongue against her own. Desire spiked, and Stone moaned a little as she melted into Lenara’s arms. They had yet to make love, first because they had been dancing around with each other, both dragging baggage that made them hesitant about taking the leap, then more recently, because Stone had been laid up from injuries received in an earthquake. She hoped the drought would end soon.
Finally, Lenara drew back, her breathing a bit unsteady. “Wait here? I’ll need a few minutes to finish up, and then I’ll take you back to your quarters.”
That sounded promising.
“I’ll be here,” Stone said.
As Lenara disappeared back into the office, Stone stared blankly at a nearby elemental chart that was three times the size of the traditional Earth periodic table, and considered what would happen if Saavik survived. If she died, of course, all that would involve was returning her body to the Federation for an officer’s funeral. But if she lived? Goddess, if she lived. Stone couldn’t imagine what that would mean for her family.
“Hey, ready to go?”
So lost in thought was she, Lenara’s question caught her off guard. Gathering herself together, Stone smiled and took Lenara’s hand as they exited the lab and headed for the turbolift. They didn’t speak as the lift ascended, just leaned into each other a little, temples brushing as they breathed from the same small section of atmosphere.
Yes, Stone thought happily, this was most certainly promising.
Once they reached her quarters, Lenara entered without requiring an invitation, and still not speaking, as if afraid that words would somehow disturb the moment, Stone wrapped her arms around the taller woman and kissed her until she was out of breath, until Lenara was trembling against her, until they both were no longer able to restrain their hands from moving beneath uniforms and casual off duty attire.
Leaving a trail of clothing behind them, they made it to the bedroom where they fell onto the bed, laughing briefly as the impact forced the air from their lungs, but then they went back to kissing and touching and loving as the hours went on and any remaining walls between them fell. Lenara was a profoundly skilled lover, unhesitant in her vulnerability, sure in her caress, and Stone thought in one brief, lucid moment that at least all those lives and memories were good for something.
Afterward, after they had finished exploring each other until there was no millimeter of skin left untouched, after they had satisfied and pleasured each other to the limits of their endurance, they lay together in boneless bliss, sprawled across the bed as if it were territory they had conquered through force of will.
“Worth the wait?’ Lenara asked finally in the darkness.
“Worth the wait,” Stone confirmed, smiling as if she would never be able to stop.
“Are you okay? No lingering effects from your injuries?”
Stone purred. “No, this was good for me. I couldn’t be any more relaxed right now.” She brushed her lips against the warmth of Lenara’s neck. The spots, she discovered, had gone all the way down the sides of Lenara’s body, as if she were part leopard, and just as sinewy. “I guess there’s something to be said for waiting.”
“You’re right.” Lenara tilted her head, seeking Stone’s mouth out for another long and lazy kiss. “It meant making love rather than just hooking up. All the difference in the world.”
Stone kissed her back and snuggled closer. “Stay the night?”
Lenara laughed, a low, throaty chuckle. “Couldn’t move if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.”
“Good.”
Smiling, Stone’s eyelids slipped shut and before she took another breath, she was asleep, safe and content in her lover’s arms.
Janeway entered sickbay with purpose. It had been two days and finally, Pulaski had contacted her with news that something had happened, requesting her immediate presence. Since they hadn’t told her exactly what was happening over the comm, Janeway knew that meant Saavik was either awake or had finally expired. She wasn’t sure which one would have the greater impact.
She spotted Pulaski and the Doctor at the far end of the room and without breaking stride, she angled toward where they were huddled around a biobed. Neither looked up as she joined them, and as she looked down at the patient, she understood why. Saavik, impossibly pale and small, was stirring, making small sounds as her eyelids fluttered weakly. She wasn’t yet conscious but clearly there was something more going on than the minute reflexes of a coma victim in a vegetative state. At least, Janeway hoped that was the case. She hadn’t even contemplated what would happen if they had a survivor with severe brain damage on their hands. Transport her back to the Federation for them to decide what to do with her? Make the decision to pull the plug here and now? Ask the ship’s counselor to make the decision?
She quailed at the possibilities.
With an effort, she shook off the unfortunate thoughts and concentrated on the present, just in time to see Saavik open her eyes. They were a crystal green, unusual in a Vulcan, and achingly familiar. Janeway saw them every time she met Stone’s penetrating stare.
“Admiral,” Janeway said gently.
The bleary gaze sharpened, focusing on the Starfleet comm logo on Janeway’s breast, then up the uniform to the four pips on her collar before finally reaching her face.
“Captain.” The words were a croak, rusty, from vocal cords unused for ages. It made her cough and quickly, the Doctor administered a soothing liquid from a tube, placing a straw in her mouth so Saavik could drink. After several swallows, Saavik seemed to compose herself. “Report.”
Startled, Janeway found herself responding to the authoritative tone. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship, USS Millennium, an explorer-class transwarp vessel. You’ve been in stasis for thirty-four years. We picked up the signal from your beacon two days ago and diverted to the planet where we recovered your stasis pod. Currently, we are at station keeping within the planet’s orbit.”
“Thirty-four years?” Saavik seized on that with mingled horror and astonishment.
“I’m afraid so,” Janeway said. “However, the stasis held, you survived, and I assure you, you’re completely safe.”
Saavik frowned, the furrow between her angled brows deepening as she thought. “A Federation starship, here in the Gamma Quadrant. Are you on a mission? Or fighting a war?”
So, she had encountered the Dominion. Janeway wasn’t surprised by the question. “A mission,” she said. “A lot has changed over the last few decades.” She looked up to see Pulaski grimacing at her. “In any event, you don’t need to catch up all at once. Get some rest. Once you’ve regained some strength, we’ll continue this discussion.”
Saavik appeared as if she was about to object to this, body flinching as she struggled to sit up but she was defeated by the lack of muscle tone. Pulaski quickly administered a hypospray, and Janeway watched those crystal eyes disappear behind thickly lashed lids.
“That went better than I thought,” Janeway said. “She seems to have all her faculties.”
“We’re cautiously optimistic, Captain,” the Doctor said cheerfully. “It will take some time and effort before she’s mobile. But she’ll be able to communicate.”
What she might communicate was driving Janeway crazy with all the speculative thoughts racing around in her mind, but she forced herself back to her normal duties. Returning to the bridge, she left the conn in T’Shanik’s hands and made her way to the ready room where she took a seat on the sofa and gazed out at the bulk of the planet taking up most of the view, stark against the sharp points of unfamiliar stars. She wondered how Stone would take the news of her grandmother’s recovery, and what opinion her spouse would have about the whole situation. In the meantime, she needed to get back on mission. Millennium still had three months left to explore the Gamma Quadrant and they weren’t getting it done orbiting a world that didn’t even have any intelligent life on it now that they had recovered Saavik’s stasis pod.
“Janeway to Seven.”
“Seven here.”
“Gather up your science teams. We’re breaking orbit in two hours.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Smiling at the easy compliance, Janeway informed T’Shanik and the rest of the crew that they would be moving on and to secure all stations. Content that her crew would get the job done, she picked up a padd from the coffee table and got back to the engineering reports that had been interrupted two days earlier.
The hours flew by, and with no communication that everything was not going according to plan, Janeway swept out of the ready room and assumed the captain’s chair. The alpha shift was present and accounted for, manning their stations.
“Mr. Tuvok?”
“The science teams have returned to the ship, engineering is standing by.”
Janeway smiled. “Lieutenant, resume course.”
“Aye, Captain.” A pause. “Which course would that be, ma’am?”
“First star to the left,” Janeway said, “And straight on until morning.”
Baffled, T’Shanik glanced over her shoulder and Janeway’s smile widened. She felt her cheeks ache. “Out of the system and on the same heading we were on before this diversion.”
“Course laid in.” T’Shanik’s tone was crisp.
“Warp seven.”
“Warp seven, aye, Captain.”
Janeway felt the surge of energy through her chair, of the ship breaking out of orbit using impulse and leaping to warp as soon as they were completely free of the gravitational pull of the planet. It offered a thrill that was almost, but not quite, sexual, rippling from the pit of her stomach and throughout the rest of her body. Leaning back, she absorbed the soft chirps and beeps of the bridge, the low murmurs of conversation between her crew, and the quiet, steady hum of the warp engines that was like the comforting purr of a cat resting on her lap.
God, she loved being a starship captain. Whatever problems the presence of a long-missing admiral might bring, she knew she would handle them, but until they arose, she had a job to do. There was vast, unexplored space out there, and she couldn’t wait to see what new adventure awaited her.
After her duty shift, she joined Seven in the turbolift and together, they returned to their quarters. Janeway slung her tunic over the back of the armchair and went out to the arboretum where Jake had been returned from daycare by the teacher. Ecstatic to see her, as always, they enjoyed an energetic romp through the small garden, before she fed him and returned to the living area where Seven had prepared a salad, some roast chicken and a blueberry cobbler for desert.
“I understand the admiral has regained consciousness,” Seven remarked as they sat down to eat.
“She did, briefly,” Janeway told her. “Long enough for me to assure her that she’s been rescued and she’s safe. We’ll get to the rest in due time.”
Seven looked disappointed. “I had hoped she had explained how she came to be on the planet, and what set of circumstances brought her to the Gamma Quadrant.”
Janeway smiled around a mouthful of salad. “You’ve been researching her, haven’t you?” she said after she swallowed.
“I have,” Seven admitted. “I now understand why you find her so fascinating. There are more questions than answers regarding her career and certainly, her disappearance remains a complete mystery.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out everything once she regains her strength and is up to talking,” Janeway said. She took another bite of her meal. “This is fantastic, darling. New dressing?”
“Bolian,” Seven explained. “Mildly spicy, but without any hint of vinegar.”
“I like it,” Janeway said.
“I’ll keep the recipe,” Seven promised.
After dinner, Janeway settled in her chair with a book while Seven spread out on the sofa, various padds surrounding her on the cushions and the coffee table. Jake made himself comfortable on the rug by her feet, and rested his head on his paws, falling asleep. His day included many hours of playtime with the children at the daycare center and while he reserved some energy to play his mistress afterward, it usually tuckered him out.
Janeway managed to get in a chapter before she felt the eyes of her spouse moving over her, warm and inviting. Ever since a mission gone wrong involving the Guardian of Forever, Seven found quiet evenings in their quarters quite emotional and inevitably arousing. Janeway was unsurprised when her spouse abruptly stood, crossed the room and slipped her arms around Janeway’s neck.
“Come to bed,” Seven requested quietly into the captain’s ear.
Janeway happily tossed aside her book, and followed Seven into the bedroom, swept up in a strong, affectionate embrace next to the bed. Seven’s lips were tender as they moved over hers, coaxing open her mouth so that she could taste Janeway, pressing against her.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Janeway knew that, heart and soul, but she teased anyway. “Prove it.”
Piqued, Seven gripped the front of Janeway’s tunic and tore it open, pushing it off her shoulders and dropping it unceremoniously on the floor, The rest of the captain’s uniform followed in short order, pips flying gloriously in all directions. Janeway had a more difficult time removing Seven’s uniform but that was because she kept getting distracted by the caresses that set her heart racing and her breath hitching. Finally, both naked, they fell onto the bed and Seven proceeded to prove her words beyond all doubt, which Janeway returned in full measure until they were both sated and supremely content, cuddled together in the center of the bed, the corner of a disarrayed duvet thrown over them as protection against a temperature setting both Janeway and Seven preferred significantly cooler than the rest of the ship.
“You are my heart, Seven of Mine,” Janeway muttered in the dark.
“As you are mine, Kathryn,” Seven told her, holding her close.
And with that assurance, Janeway fell asleep, safe and content and positive nothing bad would ever happen to her.
B’Elanna Torres tossed her daughter up in the air and caught her, much to Miral’s delight. She was giggling so hard that her entire pudgy body was shaking. B’Elanna was laughing, as well, though she was careful not to allow her concentration to waver and when her arms threatened to give out, she finally lowered Miral to the deck.
Imperiously, Miral lifted her arms. “Again, Mommy,” she demanded.
“No, that’s enough,” B’Elanna told her. “Mom will be home soon. You need to wash up for dinner.”
“Yah!” Miral exclaimed at the news and immediately zoomed off in the direction of the bathroom. B’Elanna followed in her wake, scooping up discarded toys and tossing them in the handy box by the bedroom door. The family quarters were more spacious than any she had enjoyed as a single crewmember, even as chief of engineering, but they were still on a starship so her surroundings could never be considered lavish. Not like the house she and Ro had been assigned on Mars at the Utopia Planitia shipyards, the three bedrooms with open planning and a generous back yard. She wondered again if they had made the right decision in taking another mission with Millennium.
Still, they’d be back in the Alpha Quadrant in a few more months and Miral would be old enough to appreciate a big yard. Then they’d have to decide if it was time to stay groundside rather than exploring the galaxy.
“Wash, Mommy,” Miral squealed as she climbed clumsily onto the box so that she could use the sink.
B’Elanna kept a hand protectively on the toddler’s back as she helped her splash in the water, acquiring more on the surrounding area than was necessary, but it was a learning process, B’Elanna knew. Everything was, and with a daughter that tackled things with an enthusiasm that exhausted even her fit and energetic parents, B’Elanna hoped this intensive phase would slow soon, even as she understood she should be appreciating it before it had slipped away.
Once Miral’s hands were washed to B’Elanna’s satisfaction, a cleanliness derived from her grandmother’s standards, she let Miral down and shooed her back into the living area and her toys while she did a quick wipe down of the walls and fixtures. B’Elanna had never considered herself fastidious in any way, but Miral was a spewing fountain of chaos that not even B’Elanna could tolerate without tidying up after her.
The hiss of the outer door and a happy shout of “Mom!” from Miral heralded the arrival of B’Elanna’s wife. She came out of the bathroom in time to see Ro Laren sweep up her daughter in a mighty hug, settling the little body on her hip as she listened to the stream of babble from Miral with grave attention. As always, B’Elanna felt a little quiver of mingled adoration and lust at the sight of Ro, the narrow attractive features and dark eyes, the crinkle of Bajoran ridges between her eyebrows on the top of her nose, the thick dark hair that she had been letting grow the past few weeks so that it now fell past her shoulders. Ro’s slender, wiry frame moved with a deadly grace, even while holding a toddler on her hip as she crossed the room to the sofa where she sat down with her daughter.
“How was your day?” B’Elanna murmured as she leaned over and deposited a kiss on Ro’s upturned face.
“Fine. Yours?”
“Got those recalibrations finished,” B’Elanna said as she headed for the replicator. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Anything is good,” Ro said and nuzzled into Miral’s hair.
B’Elanna thought it probably would be considering Ro had grown up in a Bajoran internment camp under the brutal occupation of the Cardassians, and as such, had known hunger in a way B’Elanna never had, not even in her darkest days with the Marquis. But B’Elanna was a little pickier and utilizing some programming techniques she had learned from Seven, she replicated some steaks with potatoes and katterpod beans, carrying the plates over to the table, including the small one for Miral’s highchair.
As they enjoyed dinner, B’Elanna found herself unusually introspective, watching her spouse and child with a warm fondness. She had never thought she would ever be so domestic, that she'd ever find such simple joy and happiness in such simple everyday tasks. They chatted about their respective duty shifts, shared a little gossip about a few of the lower deck situations and where the ship might be headed next. And as she did, B’Elanna reveled in every moment of it.
After dinner, they gave Miral a bath and after cleaning that up, managed to get her to bed before they collapsed on the sofa in companionable weariness. B’Elanna had just put her hand on Ro’s thigh with hopeful anticipation of ending the pleasant evening with even more pleasant pursuits when the chime of the door interrupted her train of thought.
Swallowing back a Klingon oath, aware of Ro’s amused gaze following her across the room, B’Elanna went over to the door and slammed her hand on the controls, allowing it to open. The rude words about such a late visit were swallowed back when she saw Tuvok.
“Commander,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “I need to speak to Ro.”
B’Elanna blinked. “All right.”
“Privately,” he added as he met the eyes of Ro who had joined B’Elanna in the doorway.
“Of course,” she said, putting her hand on B’Elanna’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “I’ve got this.”
Slightly disgruntled, B’Elanna took a step back as Ro joined Tuvok out in the corridor, the door hissing shut and hiding them from view. Wishing the doors or the hull was thinner so that she could hear, B’Elanna decided there was no point standing there by herself. She had no idea how long the conversation between Ro and Tuvok would take. They might not even remain in the corridor. They might have gone off on some obscure security officer secret type mission.
Exhaling, she went into the bedroom and undressed. She had barely settled beneath the blankets when she heard the outer door hiss open and the return of her spouse. B’Elanna watched as Ro, not speaking, slipped out of her uniform and joined her spouse in bed.
“Okay, are you going to tell me?” B’Elanna asked after a few moments had passed.
“I can’t,” Ro said shortly, her arm resting across her eyes as she lay on her back. “It’s classified. The only reason he told me is because things might go sideways and I’ll have to deal with it.”
B’Elanna contemplated that for a few moments more. “So, it involves the admiral currently residing in sickbay.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Well, it’s the only thing new that’s happened in the past few days. That would be the only reason he’s telling you now.” B’Elanna paused, knowing she had to respect her spouse’s position on the ship and the trust the first officer had shown in her, but at the same time, if trouble was brewing—well, she was a mother now, and she needed to know. “I don’t have to know details. I do have to know if there’s a threat to Miral.”
Ro exhaled audibly into the darkness. “No more than usual,” she said finally.
That could mean anything. Serving on a starship, particularly one exploring the unknown, wasn’t the safest way to raise a child. Of course, the Dominion War had shown that nowhere in the Federation was particularly safe, and they might as well do what they enjoyed doing.
B’Elanna wanted to argue, but she doubted she would get anywhere. “If that changes, you’ll let me know?”
“Of course,” Ro responded in a tone that brokered no doubt. “Immediately. I’d never put you or Miral at risk.”
“I believe you.” B’Elanna reached over and patted Ro on the stomach. “Will this put you at risk?”
Ro didn’t answer that right away. “Possibly,’ she allowed finally.
B’Elanna felt the pit of her stomach tighten, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Ro was who she was, and she did her duty as she saw fit.
“Be careful,” she managed.
“I will.” Ro rolled over and put her hand on B’Elanna’s chest. “I’m sorry.”
B’Elanna reached up and drew her knuckles along Ro’s cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. I know how it works.”
“Sometimes I wish it didn’t work that way.”
B’Elanna smiled and slipping her hand around to the back of Ro’s neck, she drew her close and kissed her deeply, sliding her other arm around her back to pull her body against hers. The sensation of her warm skin against her own was intoxicating, the finely tuned form with soft swells of breast and hips, the way they fit together as if they had been created for only that.
Ro groaned happily into B’Elanna’s mouth, stretching out full length on top of her, and B’Elanna answered with her own moan of rising desire. There was something infinitely comforting about Ro loving her the way she did, as if coming home to a safe place. It made all the concerns and responsibilities of the respective duties fade away until there was only the two of them, B’Elanna didn’t believe in the Klingon gods, nor the human ones, for that matter, but she had a sneaking suspicion something divine was looking out for her. Otherwise, she couldn’t explain how she was so fortunate as to have found Ro, and fallen in love with her. More importantly, for Ro to have fallen in love with her. All the failed relationships, all the broken hearts, all the loneliness and fear that she would never find anyone, it was all gone as if none of it had ever happened.
Afterward, B’Elanna snuggled close to Ro’s long, lean body and sent out a general thought of gratitude to the universe. Whatever happened in the future, at least she had this. At least she had loved and been loved.
Nothing else mattered.
“Alpha shift to the conference room.”
Startled, Seven looked up from the planetary scans she was studying. As far as she knew, there was no immediate mission for the ship, so a gathering of the senior staff was unusual. Putting down her padd, she rose from her seat and headed for the turbolift. A week had passed since their unexpected recovery of Admiral Saavik on the ugly purple planet. That was what everyone called it, even though it had been designated a name and number along with the rest of the system. ‘Ugly and purple’ stuck. Though the vegetation was turquoise, it left behind a purplish slime in whatever it touched and even the rocks emanated a distinct stench. It lingered in the lab and all the atmospheric scrubbers couldn’t seem to remove its distinct taint.
Everyone seemed in agreement that other than a misplaced Starfleet admiral, the planet had provided nothing of value.
In any event, they would soon have new samples and scans to study. Long range sensors had detected another group of planetary systems ahead and it appeared from the preliminary warp trails that First Contact was in the offering.
On deck two, Seven entered the conference room, faltering a bit when she saw Admiral Saavik sitting next to Janeway. Dressed in a Starfleet uniform, the woman looked a great more presentable than she had the last time she had seen her, though Seven was surprised Saavik was up so quickly. Thirty-four years of losing muscle mass was not the sort of thing Seven had expected the woman to overcome so quickly, not even with modern medical techniques. She still appeared pale and thin, far more than any Vulcan Seven had ever seen, but her crystal green eyes were alert and assessing, especially when she spotted Seven, lingering on the implant framing her eye and the one on her cheek.
Tuvok was sitting on Janeway’s right, while Ro sat next to him. Seven took her seat at the end of the table opposite the captain. As Seven regarded the admiral curiously, the rest of the senior staff arrived, Pulaski, B’Elanna, T’Shanik and finally, the ship’s counselor who dipped her head apologetically as she grabbed the last empty seat.
Once everyone had settled, Janeway nodded at Saavik. “Admiral, may I present my science officer, Lt. Commander Annika Hansen, ship’s engineer Lt. Commander B’Elanna Torres, and my helm officer, Lt. T’Shanik. Of course, you already know our chief medical officer and our ship’s counselor.”
Saavik frowned ever so slightly as she looked at Sydney. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”
Sydney let out a snort of strangled laughter while everyone else looked vaguely uncomfortable. Seven didn’t think she was displaying any such emotion, but she did find the moment somewhat awkward. She was surprised that Sydney had not gone to visit the admiral while she recovered in sickbay, but clearly, this was the first time Saavik was laying eyes on her descendant since being rescued.
“Counselor Sydney Stone,” Janeway managed, struggling to find a bit of grace. “Your granddaughter?” Her voice rose on the end as if unsure that was the case, wondering perhaps if she’d been misinformed. On the other hand, Sydney had mentioned that she had barely encountered her grandmother even as a child.
Saavik’s eyebrow shot up her forehead. “Sydney?”
“Hello, Grandmother,” Sydney said, calmly. “I’m glad to see you looking so well.”
Saavik stared at her, the faintest expression of surprise and regret on her face which, for a Vulcan, it was telling indeed. Then, as if becoming aware of the interested attention of the officers around her, her face lost all expression, becoming impassive. Sydney’s eyes became lidded and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned her attention to the captain.
Janeway cleared her throat a little, which Seven knew meant she was a little uncomfortable. “You wanted to meet my senior officers, Admiral. Is there something you wished to share with them?”
Ah, Seven thought. This meeting was not Janeway’s idea.
“Indeed, Captain,” Saavik said and leaned forward, folding her hands on the table before her as she addressed the rest of the room. “I understand that the political conditions that existed thirty-five years ago are no longer applicable. The Cardassians are no longer occupying Bajor, the Klingons and Romulans have lost a certain amount of standing within the Alpha Quadrant and the Federation has since fought and defeated the Dominion. However, the reason I was in the Bajoran Badlands, and the intel I gathered there may be as viable now as it was before my vessel was caught by the wormhole. After speaking with Commander Tuvok, we decided it is imperative that I get this to Starfleet Command as soon as possible.”
Seven saw a flicker of surprise from Janeway, and the furrow between her brows indicated whatever it was that had startled her, either the revelation that Saavik had spoken to Tuvok, or the fact there was classified information possessed by the admiral that she wasn’t privy to, she didn’t like it very much. But when she spoke, her tone was deceptively mild. So mild that it sent a shiver up Seven’s spine.
“We have the capability to open a transwarp conduit between ourselves and Federation space. A data packet containing your information can be transmitted as soon as a probe can be prepared.”
The muscles along Saavik’s jaw tightened. “While I have no doubt as to the success of your process, what you’re describing seems less than secure. I want to personally place this in the proper hands. You need to set course for the Federation.”
Seven straightened in her chair. This was about to become very interesting. Beside her, she saw B’Elanna flick a glance sideways at Ro, before focusing back on the captain.
“That’s impossible, I’m afraid,” Janeway said, her tone and expression pleasant, though Seven suspected that was the last thing she was feeling. “Millennium’s mission has three months to go, and with all due respect, I doubt any information you possess is particularly crucial at this point. It has been thirty-five years.”
“On the contrary, Captain, this intelligence needs to reach Starfleet as soon as possible.”
The senior staff sank slightly in their chairs, as if wanting to make it appear they weren’t there even as they paid the most avid attention to the two powerful woman at the head of the table. Seven, on the other hand, was suddenly very interested in Tuvok. His gaze was going back and forth between Saavik and Janeway as if watching a tennis match, but there was also the slightest hint that he knew more than he was letting on. Seven wasn’t sure what made her think that, but she wondered if the information Saavik possessed somehow impacted how and why he had been assigned Millennium to begin with. She knew it had something to do with Section 31, a covert organization within Starfleet Command itself and a group that she and Janeway had engaged years earlier.
“Utilizing transwarp is not as simple as turning the ship around,” Janeway explained. “There are a great many preparations to make and it’s not something that’s done on the spur of the moment. With all due respect, Admiral, you have not given me a good enough reason to prematurely end our mission.”
“Captain, if I must, I will make this an order.”
There was a collective intake of breath from around the table, though no one was so gauche as to make it obvious. Seven felt the tendons in her neck constrict, and she fought the urge to leap to her feet and confront the admiral. Forcing an even pattern to her respiration, she waited for Janeway’s response.
“I would not recommend that, Admiral,” Janeway told Saavik. “Is that why you wanted my senior staff present? So that you could make such an order public and possibly compromise their respect for the chain of command?”
“That was not at all my intention, Captain,” Saavik said. She looked around, apparently gauging the attitude of the room, and tilted her head. “For now, I am making it a request. I reserve the right to make it more official in the future.”
“I'll take that under advisement,” Janeway said, a decided coolness in her tone. “In the meantime, we all have duty to attend. Dismissed.”
That she included the admiral in that was obvious and Saavik seemed to recognize she had pushed as far as she dared. As she got to her feet, Seven realized the admiral was using a cane to aid in her mobility, though it appeared she hardly needed it as she adroitly made her way out of the conference room. The rest of the staff was not far behind and as she exited, Seven heard Janeway ask Dr. Pulaski in a low voice to remain behind. With a sinking feeling, she wondered if the captain was going to make a request of the CMO that would have long lasting repercussions for everyone, including Janeway.
Out in the corridor, she saw Sydney studiously avoiding her grandmother, refusing to look that way though it was apparent the admiral was trying to catch her eye. Instead, Stone got on the turbolift with T’Shanik and Tuvok, even though they were undoubtedly headed to the bridge, leaving the admiral to stare somewhat forlornly at the closed doors, leaning heavily on her cane. B’Elanna whispered something in Ro’s ear before disappearing down the corridor on her way to engineering, leaving her spouse standing with Saavik. Ro wasn’t looking at the admiral, but she seemed keenly aware of her. Belatedly, Seven realized the security chief was standing so close so as to be able to catch Saavik if she collapsed.
Glancing back at the conference room doors, Seven hesitated. If she’d been alone, she would have eavesdropped. With that option unavailable to her, she moved to join Ro and Saavik.
“What are you, Lt. Hansen?”
The question caught Seven off guard and she stopped to look at Saavik, feeling a mix of annoyance at the question, and appreciation for the bluntness in which it was asked.
“I am Borg,” she said. “Do you know what the Collective is?”
“The medical staff provided historical texts so that I could catch on what I’ve missed over the past few decades,” Saavik said. “I read about Wolf 365 and the temporal incursion with the Enterprise D. You retain the implants of your assimilation. Do they enhance your natural physical state?”
“Yes,” Seven said, shortly.
She wondered why Saavik wanted to know, or perhaps it was just her nature to gather information on everyone around her, particularly those who could pose a threat. Seven was not modest. She knew she would provide the biggest threat of all if she were so inclined. It was up to Saavik not to do anything that would make Seven find a reason to be so inclined.
Ro seemed to pick up on what Seven was thinking and shot her a sharp look. Seven returned it blandly, not requiring any advice from Ro as to how to handle a Starfleet admiral, not even this one.
“I understand. As chief science officer, can you tell me how secure this transwarp conduit is?”
That was a fair question, Seven decided. “The end of the conduit is located near Deep Space Nine. They detect the energy emissions that precede the conduit’s formation and dispatch a runabout to pick up the probe as it arrives. It is remotely possible that they could be otherwise occupied, and not dispatch a runabout in a timely manner. In that event, the probe could be acquired by anyone who happens upon it, though all information is properly encrypted as per Starfleet protocol.”
“So not secure at all,” Saavik said.
Seven regarded her. “For the classification you have been implying? No, it is not secure.”
“Thank you,” Saavik said, dipped her head and stepped onto the turbolift.
Once the doors had closed, Ro pursed her lips and glanced at Seven. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told her that.”
“It is the truth,” Seven said. “She could easily find out the information another way. I gain nothing by refusing to answer her question.” She paused. “Do you believe the intel she gathered so long ago is that important today?”
“I don’t know,” Ro said, her tone thoughtful. “It might.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Janeway waited until her staff and the admiral were gone before turning to her chief medical officer who remained seated at the long table. “You can countermand any order from Saavik,” she said. “You hold the necessary rank.”
“I could,” Pulaski agreed readily, leaning back in her chair, hands folded loosely over her abdomen. “I’d have to explain the hell out of it once we do return, but yes, I could. Is that what you want me to do? Point out that she’s not the only one with the brass to throw her weight around if it comes to it?”
Janeway opened her mouth to respond, stopped, thought about it, and finally let out her breath in a huff. “I don’t know, yet. Maybe. I have to think about it a little more.”
“Do you have the time to think about it? My impression was that Saavik wants to return to the Federation immediately and while she’s backed off on making it an order for the time being, do you really want it to come to that?”
“No, I don’t, but I also don’t know if what she discovered thirty-five years ago really can’t wait three more months.” Janeway raked her fingers through her hair. “She won’t share it with me, and without more information than that, I won’t be pushed into making a decision that will override our primary mission.”
“You mean you don’t like being ordered to make such a decision.” Pulaski eyed her with sardonic amusement. “So, you’re trying to find a way to make it on your own.”
Janeway absorbed that. “You think I’m that petty?”
“I think that you’ve been on your own for so long, and in sole command of your ship, crew and life, that it’s difficult to let go, especially to someone who, let’s face it, wasn’t the most diplomatic in how she approached this.” Pulaski chuckled. “The truth is, you know that you don’t need me to countermand the order. If you told her that Millennium wasn’t returning to the Alpha Quadrant until you’re damned good and ready, there isn’t a single crewman that would even argue about it.”
“Except Tuvok.” The words were out of Janeway’s mouth before she could stop them and until that second, she hadn’t realized exactly what she’d sensed from her exec. Stunned, she regarded Pulaski who lifted her brows. “He knows what Saavik knows.”
“More than what he’s already told you?”
“A lot more, I think.” Janeway chewed on it for a moment. “He’s hiding something. Has been from the moment he took over as my exec. I’ve been willing to let it go, willing to wait until he comes to me because I honestly believe he would before he’d let it compromise the ship or myself. On the other hand, I also didn’t know he and Saavik had been conferring. She sure as hell hasn’t been talking to me.”
“Then I guess you’d better talk to Tuvok,” Pulaski said. She rose to her feet. “Listen, if you need me to lean on my patient, you know I will. But you better be sure you’re making the decision based on what you know, not what you feel.”
“Of course,” Janeway said and offered Pulaski a smile. “Thank you, Kate. I appreciate this.”
“Anytime.”
Janeway sat there for several moments after Pulaski left, going over everything in her mind. Finally, when she was sure she could approach this without extraneous emotion, particularly directed at her exec, she requested that Tuvok meet her in the ready room.
He was waiting by the door when she arrived on the bridge and accompanied her into her inner sanctum. They went up the ramp to where the sitting area was located on the upper level beneath the large viewports looking out onto the stars streaking by in the warp field. As she sat on the sofa with him in the armchair, she could tell he knew why she had called him there.
“Talk to me,” she said. It wasn’t phrased as an order, but it might as well have been.
“There are certain things that I cannot share with you, Captain,” he tried, lacing his fingers and resting his hands on his lap. Indication that he was extremely uncomfortable.
“Until today, I was willing to let that be,” Janeway said, eyeing as if she had never before seen him. What she was picking up on his body language stirred anger in her chest, and with an effort, she forced it down. “I don’t think I can any longer. What does Saavik have?”
Tuvok seemed to close in on himself, hunching against the question and bowed his head. If it were anyone else, Janeway might have thought he was offering a silent and quick prayer for strength. “She has a list, Captain.”
“What kind of list?”
“A list that includes the names of every member in Section 31,” he said finally.
That was a considerable revelation and Janeway let out her breath in a huff. “From thirty-five years ago. Would it still be current?”
“For some, and as for the rest, do you really think we cannot take those names and link them to every single person who is a member today? They have a specific method of recruitment. It is merely a matter of following the threads.”
“Oh.” Janeway slumped against the sofa cushions, needing their support. She found it hard to catch her breath, and it took a moment before she realized there was more. It wasn’t that Tuvok wanted to tell her more, because he probably didn’t. It was because she had known and worked with this man long enough to be able to read him, even through all that Vulcan impassiveness. “What else?” she demanded.
Tuvok closed his eyes. Janeway steeled herself. It had to be bad if he was displaying that much. “We suspect Commander Michael Patterson is a member of Section 31. More than a member, we believe that he is actually a part of the inner circle that controls the entire organization.”
“What!?!” Janeway could only stare at him, horrified. “How long have you known this?”
“Since your mother and sister were taken by the Orion Syndicate. Indeed, we believe that was why they were taken, not as a warning to you or Seven but as an attempt to influence Patterson in some fashion.”
Janeway couldn’t remain seated, she had to get up to pace about the ready room, fists clenched. “Why haven’t you told me this before now? For God's sake, my mother is married to him!”
“We have absolutely no viable evidence to move on him,” Tuvok explained. “Nor is having him in the inner circle considered a bad thing by Starfleet Intelligence.”
Janeway stopped and glared. “What are you talking about?”
He held out his hands, almost as a mute appeal. “There appear to be two factions within Section 31. The organization itself was created to act in defense of the Federation. To protect it against its enemies utilizing methods that aren’t necessarily in accordance with Federation ideals and beliefs, but are quite effective, nonetheless. One faction maintains that as their mission statement, willing to do their duty without acknowledgement, operating from the shadows, never being seen, never being known. The other faction, perhaps corrupted by greed or a desire for power, want to step out into the light, to be acknowledged and to wield their power unfettered as part of the Federation Council.”
“And Michael?” Janeway was still having trouble absorbing that. The idea that her mother was married to a man complicit in nefarious actions? It was difficult to comprehend. She couldn’t imagine how Seven would take it. Or rather, she could, and it didn’t imply good things for Patterson at all. Words like assimilation and termination filtered through her mind.
“We believe he belongs to those who remain true to their initial intention. Starfleet Intelligence can work with that, because as unfortunate as it is, there is a significant bloc in Starfleet Command and the Federation hierarchy who, although not members themselves, believe the existence of Section 31 is necessary.”
“So, they’re willing to let him continue so long as Section 31 acts in a way that they like.” Janeway rubbed the back of her neck. She knew what she had to do. She didn’t like it, but there really wasn’t any other choice. “Janeway to bridge. Full stop. Prepare for transition protocols.”
Over the comm came a startled “Aye, Captain,” in T’Shanik’s cool tones.
Tuvok stood. “Thank you, Captain. I know that wasn’t easy.”
“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me this before,” Janeway said. “About Michael, I mean.”
Tuvok looked regretful. “It is a complicated situation. As I said, we did not have the necessary evidence to make a charge, only a suspicion. It wasn’t until I saw the name of his mentor on Admiral Saavik’s list that I believed I could share such information. That will lead us to the evidence we require to take him into custody.”
“You say that this rogue faction is responsible for my mother and Phoebe’s abduction, that they did it to get to Michael. Were they also responsible for using Seven to destroy the Orion Syndicate?”
“No, we believe that was the faction associated with Patterson. We also believe that he somehow managed to assassinate Admiral Hayes while in custody, undoubtedly to prevent him from talking.”
The sound Janeway made was the same one she made when hit by a phaser stun, a cross between a cry of pain and outrage that anyone would dare shoot her. “That will be all, Commander,” she managed in a faint voice. “Prepare to take us through the transition jump.”
“Yes, Captain,” he said in a respectful tone, though Janeway wasn’t feeling particularly respected right now.
She stood there long after he left, staring at the stars outside the viewports without really seeing them. It wasn’t until she heard the chime from the ready room door that she was able to gather herself. “Come.”
She hadn't felt the full force of what Tuvok had told her until she saw Seven enter the ready room. She carried a medikit in anticipation of the upcoming transwarp jump, but her expression indicated that somehow, she knew something had happened with her spouse. But Janeway needed time to completely understand what it all meant, not only for her and Seven, but for her mother, as well.
“Kathryn?”
Janeway stepped into her arms, clinging to Seven as if she was a rock in a storm, solid and strong. Burying her face into Seven’s chest, she allowed herself a moment of weakness, knowing she was safe to shiver as if in a chill wind.
“What is it?” Seven asked quietly as she held her close.
“I can’t tell you,” Janeway whispered. “Not yet. We need to go home, first. I’ll explain everything once we’re there.”
Seven’s lips tightened stubbornly, but after looking at Janeway, really looking at her and seeing what lay beyond her expression, she nodded reluctantly. “Very well, Kathryn.”
“I have to get the ship ready. I’ll meet you back here after it’s done.”
The day passed quickly as Millennium and its crew prepared for the long transwarp jump back to Dominion space. It used to take longer but every year, every mission, they improved the protocols. Janeway hoped that one day they’d improve the process enough that she didn’t have to be sedated every time. Just once, she’d liked to experience a jump in its entirety. Finally, everything was ready and she returned to the ready room where Seven was waiting for her.
Lying down on the sofa, Janeway watched as Seven administered the sedative, wondering how sick she would be on the other side of it. The last thing she saw before she went under was the loving eyes of her spouse, brilliant blue and framed by the silver crescent of the Borg implant.
Seven drew a blanket up over Janeway, tucking her in and after depositing a final kiss on the captain’s forehead, she left her and made her way out of the ready room. On the bridge, the rest of the transition crew had assumed their positions, Tuvok in the command chair, Rekar at ops, T’Shanik at the helm and Ro in the first officer’s chair while her second, M’Reek, manned tactical. Seven was annoyed and concerned, not only by Janeway suddenly changing her mind about returning to the Alpha Quadrant, but by her reluctance to share her reasoning behind such a decision.
Not that the captain was required to explain her reasoning to the ship’s science officer about every little thing, but Kathryn Janeway was bloody well required to explain what was going on to her wife. Consoling herself that Janeway would reveal all once they returned home and that she undoubtedly had a very good reason for her reticence, Seven took her place at the science station and began to key in the necessary instructions for the sensors. Although they would lag far behind the ship’s actual velocity, it was always interesting to go back and see what they did pick up during the transition.
She threw a glance sideways at Tuvok. It always bothered her to have someone other than the captain sitting there, even when she knew it was necessary for Janeway to be elsewhere. It was even more difficult now, because Seven was now convinced Tuvok knew more than he was letting on. She just couldn’t quite figure out how to approach him about it so that he wouldn’t shut her down. Her gaze moved on to Ro who was concentrating on the first officer’s screen. Ro also knew something, she suspected, which meant B’Elanna might know it as well.
Whatever it was, Seven would find out, and her method of investigation would be directly proportional to how much or how little it involved a threat to the people she loved.
She heard the turbolift behind her and she looked back to see Saavik enter the bridge, still using her cane for support. She clearly had a way to go before she was fully recovered from her ordeal. T’Shanik also noticed Saavik’s arrival and immediately stood up. “Admiral on the bridge.”
Seven blinked. Was there some protocol she was missing? She looked over at Ro to see her rise to her feet, as did M’Reek and Rekar. Tuvok looked over at Seven as he got of the command chair and lifted a brow. “Lt. Hansen?”
Seven looked back at him, baffled. “Commander?”
“It is customary to rise when an admiral appears on the bridge of a starship.”
“I fail to see for what purpose.”
“It’s all right, Commander,” Saavik said, waving her hand slightly. Seven thought she may have been slightly amused. “As you were.”
Still baffled by such a strange protocol, Seven continued her work while the admiral was shown to an auxiliary station. Apparently, she was going to observe the jump from the bridge. Tuvok hesitated, perhaps wanting to say something to Seven, but then he shook his head slightly and reclaimed the captain’s chair. Ro looked as if she was fighting a smile as she bent her head over her display, while T’Shanik and Rekar looked vaguely offended as they resumed their stations. Seven could never tell what M’Reek was thinking. Too much hair obscured his features.
Whatever the obscure Starfleet regulation, Seven hoped it was minor enough that it wouldn’t be brought to Janeway’s attention. Otherwise, it would probably result in a lecture and if the reasoning for such a regulation was, in Seven’s opinion, illogical, then it might provoke an argument. That, she could live without.
“All hands, prepare for jump,” Tuvok instructed some time later.
“Secure from stations,” Ro said.
“Transwarp engine online,” T’Shanik reported. “Course laid in.”
“Engage,” Tuvok ordered.
Seven felt the transwarp reverberate through her seat and up her spine, granting the faintest taste of nausea before subsiding. The fore viewscreen immediately shifted to the swirling colors of the slipstream conduit and she noticed Saavik looking intently at it before wincing and averting her eyes. Someone should have warned her about staring too long at the phenomena, Seven thought, though she didn’t deny the hint of satisfaction it provided.
She didn’t like Saavik, she decided. Perhaps a hasty presumption, but it was what she felt nonetheless. Not only because of how Saavik had treated Janeway in the conference room, but because the admiral hadn’t recognized her own granddaughter. That was just wrong in Seven’s opinion. She hoped she’d get the chance to speak with Sydney about it. The counselor had helped her so much the past few months. Seven wanted to offer her assistance in return.
“How long will this take?” Saavik asked.
“Eight hours,” Ro responded. “We’ll exit in the Omarion Nebula near the Changeling homeworld. We need to drop off the ambassador and her entourage before accessing the Bajoran wormhole. We’ll contact DS9 via the subspace relay and let them know we’ll be docking at the station. You’ll be able to contact Starfleet from there.”
“Why can’t we go directly to Starfleet Command?”
Ro exchanged a glance with Tuvok. “That is at the captain’s discretion,” Tuvok said. “She will make that decision once we’ve reached the Omarion Nebula.”
Saavik frowned slightly. “How long before the captain is revived?”
Obviously, she had been updated on how transwarp affected Terrans. Seven bit her tongue and focused on her display.
“As soon as we’ve exited the conduit, revival of those crewmembers will be initiated,” Tuvok said.
“Very well,” Saavik responded. She rose to her feet, albeit, a little shakily and headed back to the turbolift. Seven wondered if she was supposed to stand for her leaving, but no one else did so she believed she was good where she was. She resented the admiral for creating such disruption to their mission, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to see her again.
A few hours in, Seven took a break and handed her station over to an auxiliary transition officer. In the turbolift, she requested the location of the ship’s counselor and was surprised to discover she was in the ship’s arboretum, a large green space incorporated in the ship’s design for the benefit of a crew serving in uncharted space for months at a time. Sydney was sitting beneath the spreading branches of one of the larger trees, her expression pensive as she gazed across the manicured lawn and bushes.
“Seven.” She smiled as she saw Seven approach, looking pleased to see her and preventing any guilt Seven might have felt at interrupting her reverie.
“Counselor.” Seven sat down on the bench next to Sydney and contemplated a bird flitting around the flowered bush opposite her. It was a flash of green and gold, a hummingbird, she decided. She was aware of Sydney’s presence but the counselor did not speak. Seven knew that she was content to sit there for a long time, relaxed in their silence if that was what Seven required. But Seven was not here for herself.
“Your grandmother,” Seven said finally. “You have not interacted?”
Sydney let out a sigh. “No. It’s funny, because when I first heard that she’d been recovered, I rushed right down to sickbay. But I couldn’t see her then. When she did wake up, I kept finding excuses not to visit. Finally, I just decided that if she didn’t think it important enough to be a part of my life when I was a child, then it probably wasn’t important enough for me to be a part of her life now.”
Seven considered that. “I understand.”
“Because of your relationship with your mother. Not necessarily the same thing.”
“No, but similar.”
“Perhaps,” Sydney allowed. Silence fell between them once more, comfortable and comforting.
“What does Lenara think?”
Sydney laughed. “She agrees that it’s my choice and she respects whatever I decide.”
“Acceptable.”
“It is.”
“Have you two finally managed to—”
“God, Seven, please don’t ever change,” Sydney interrupted, shaking her head slightly, though she continued to smile. “And yes, though it’s absolutely none of your business.”
“Very well.”
“Seven, if things get crazy and I don’t get a chance, I want you to know it’s been an honor and privilege to have served with you this past year. You are, without question, the most unique person I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you,” Seven said, though she wasn’t entirely sure it had been a compliment. She considered as she returned to the bridge, wondering what would happen for their next mission, if Sydney would be along as their counselor, if Ro and B’Elanna would apply or if they would decide to remain planetside for Miral’s sake, if older officers like Pulaski and Lenara would choose to take another step out into the unknown or settle on another path.
Things would change again. She would be afforded the opportunity to make new friends, add different voices to her collective, both personal and those merely in association. It would require adaptation and new evolution. Seven decided that would be acceptable.
Their exit into the Omarion Nebula was somewhat anticlimactic, a simple slide from the conduit into normal space and Seven released a pent-up breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Another mission ended. Time to return to Earth and Indiana, time to reunite with family and friends, to rest and recharge before accepting their next mission. Seven wondered if it would be the Delta Quadrant again, or perhaps they would extend their knowledge of the Beta Quadrant. So much space to explore. She and Janeway could spend the rest of their lives seeking out all that was new, and barely scratch the surface of what was out there.
She knew what Janeway’s choice would be, she thought as she entered the ready room and approached her spouse, still sleeping peacefully on the sofa. Janeway wasn’t ready to settle in one place, yet, enjoying her life completely, and Seven, she realized, had come to feel the same.
As she took a seat in the armchair and waited for the sedative to wear off, ginger ale and lozenges and container for vomit handily located, she patiently spent the time studying the familiar lines of her spouse’s face and basked in the love she felt for her. Minutes passed, one after another, and then more than should have been required for the sedation to have run its course. Disturbed, Seven leaned forward, examining Janeway intently. There continued to be no change and with rising concern, she reached out and nudged Janeway’s shoulder.
“Kathryn.”
No response and now Seven was truly worried. “Captain, please wake up.”
Nothing and Seven lurched forward, sliding her arm under Janeway’s shoulder and lifting her slightly. “Kathryn, please respond!”
Janeway’s head lolled against Seven’s chest and with fear swamping her mind and soul, Seven used her free hand to slap at her comm badge.
“Medical personnel to the ready room! Doctor, it’s the captain!”
“I can’t wake her up!”
Janeway opened her eyes, completely confused when instead of the familiar silver ceiling of her ready room, it was the unfamiliar surface of blank, beige plaster. The bed she was in was railed and the small table next to it held a bouquet of flowers and a dispenser of tissues. Bemused, she brought a hand up to her face and rubbed at it, as if that would clear the cobwebs in her mind. The last thing she remembered was Seven administering the sedative for the transition jump back to the Alpha Quadrant.
Where was Seven? This wasn’t any place she recognized as being on Millennium. Was she even on her ship anymore?
She tried to move, discovering several small sensors stuck to her chest and temples, while the display above her head showed various lines indicating various lifesign patterns. Worried about what they all meant, she began peeling the sensors off and dropping them on the sheets, before shakily sitting up. She looked around the small room. In addition to her bed and nightstand, there was a bureau with more flowers and cards along with two chairs, neutral in color. On one side of the room were two doors, one closed and the other open to reveal a bathroom. On the other side was a window, shielded by blinds, but displaying daylight of a planetary variety through the slats.
She was in a hospital room.
Easing out of bed, Janeway was disgusted to discover she was dressed in a patterned gown that didn’t quite close at the back. Tottering unsteadily to the window, awkwardly holding the gown closed behind her with one hand, Janeway drew back the blinds with the other. She blinked in the bright sunshine, looking out over what had to be the hospital grounds, and beyond to the city skyline. She studied it a moment, recognizing it as familiar in some way, but not quite sure from where. It wasn’t Earth. She could tell that much.
She looked directly beneath her, seeing people walking toward a hovercraft in a landing zone of some kind. Predominantly Bajorans. She was on Bajor. How the hell did she get to Bajor?
“Kathryn!”
She started abruptly and let go of her gown, turning to see Seven standing in the doorway, regarding her with a mix of surprise and profound joy. Relief flooded Janeway as she tipped gratefully into the strong arms of her spouse who had rushed across the room in time to catch her.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Seven scolded gently as she urged Janeway back to the hospital bed.
“Wondering where the hell I am!” Janeway shot back with some asperity as Seven tucked her neatly beneath the covers despite her best efforts to prevent it. She was horrified to realize she had all the strength of a week-old kitten. “How did I get to Bajor? Where’s my ship? The crew?”
“The crew is fine, Captain,” Seven assured her. “The ship is fine. It was decided to transfer you to a groundside facility while you recovered.”
“Recovered? Recovered from what?”
Seven hesitated. “We are not entirely sure, Kathryn.”
“Who’s we?”
“Dr. Pulaski has remained behind to confer with the medical staff on DS9 as well as the staff here on the planet’s surface. I am assured this is the finest medical facility in this sector of space. They deal with trauma of all kinds.”
“Trauma? Did I hit my head? What happened in the jump, Seven?”
“Nothing happened in the jump, Kathryn,” Seven told her, patting her shoulder in what she undoubtedly thought was a comforting caress but was only serving to agitate Janeway further. Seven didn’t act this way unless something was terribly wrong. “You did not wake up from the sedative once we arrived in the Omarion Nebula.”
“Oh.” Janeway settled back down against the pillows, absorbing that. “You said, ‘Pulaski remained behind’. What does that mean?”
Seven glanced away. “Since the length of your recovery could not be determined, it was decided that Millennium should resume course for Earth so that Admiral Saavik could confer with Starfleet Command. Tuvok assumed command. I, of course, refused to leave you.”
“They hijacked my ship!?!” Janeway’s voice reached a register she was unaware she possessed.
“It was authorized by Admiral Nechayev,” Seven said.
Janeway blinked and suddenly felt cold. “How long was I out, Seven?”
“Ten days.”
“What!?!” Janeway felt it hard to breath as she assimilated this bit of information. Then she took a closer look at Seven, taking note of the tight skin around her eyes and mouth, the shadowed strain in her expression, the disarray to the normally tight and organized hair style. “Oh, darling, are you all right?”
Seven exhaled audibly. “It has been difficult, Kathryn,” she admitted, and there was a wealth of meaning beneath that suddenly ragged tone.
Janeway reached out and seized her hand, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. How wa—have the doctors said anything?”
“Only that this is a result of repeated exposure to the effects of transition. You have mentioned before how each jump has become progressively more difficult, that you felt more ill each time the ship exits a transwarp conduit. They believe this is the inevitable result of too many too quickly.”
“Can they fix it? Find a way to ease the transition?”
“I do not know, Kathryn.”
“Okay,” Janeway said, after a moment to take that in. “What happens now?”
Seven leaned down and brushed her lips over Janeway’s forehead. “Now you rest and allow your body to heal.”
“After that?” she demanded, injecting a note of steel into her tone. “We need to get back to Earth. I need to see Mom. I have to talk to Starfleet Command.”
“In time, Kathryn,” Seven said, and this time, the steel was lacing her tone. “I will not allow you out of this bed until you have fully recovered.”
“Really.” Janeway voice was ice cold.
“Really,” Seven returned, equally as chill. “Kathryn, they did not know what had happened to you. They still cannot tell me anything. You would not wake up!” Her tone descended into anguish at that last bit and Janeway felt a moment of shame for putting Seven through that.
“I’m sorry,” she said, squeezing Seven’s hand as she tried to sooth her. “I’m awake now.”
“Yes, and Dr. Pulaski has been notified. She is on her way.”
“From where?”
“The dwelling which has been assigned to us for our stay on Bajor,” Seven said. “We did not know how long we would require lodging so it was provided for us.”
“Oh. Okay.” Janeway was jolted again. “I was in a coma!” The realization was unpleasant.
“Yes, Kathryn, you were.”
Janeway looked at the bureau. “What’s with all the flowers?”
“Gifts from the crew. The roses are from B’Elanna and Ro. The carnations are from Sydney and Lenara. The chrysanthemums are from the alpha shift.” Seven paused. “I do not understand the significance of presenting you with dead plants. However, since everyone else made such an effort, I felt compelled to do the same.” She nodded at the bouquet on the nightstand. “That is from me.”
Janeway looked over at the spiky shoots of an aloe vera planet, very much alive and potted in soil. “It’s lovely, darling.” If Seven was mimicking traditions she didn’t understand, she had been at loose ends indeed, literally not knowing what to do with herself as her spouse lay unresponsive in a hospital bed. Janeway reached up and put her hand against Seven’s cheek, feeling the warmth of skin beneath her palm. “Why are they all Earth plants?”
“There was a shop on DS9,” Seven explained. “By the hangar bay where one could catch a shuttle to Bajor. Apparently all involved determined it was the most logical establishment to purchase such items.”
“Convenient,” Janeway said, slightly amused, though little of this was amusing.
The door abruptly opened and both women turned their attention on Dr. Pulaski as she strode briskly in the room.
“Finally,” she said in a mix of exasperation and annoyance. All feigned, of course, Janeway knew, going by the more honest expression of relief and joy in her old friend’s eyes. This had really been bad, she thought with a sense of wonder. How bad?
A medical tricorder in one hand and a small probe in the other, Pulaski ran comprehensive scans over Janeway’s body, concentrating most of them on her head. “All readings within acceptable limits,” she said with some satisfaction. “I think you’ll be all right, Captain. We caught it in time.”
“You think or you know?” Janeway asked.
“We know,” Pulaski said, pulling a chair. At her look, Seven obediently sat down in the other and gave her full attention to the doctor. “We’ve been aware that transition affects Terrans in a way that it doesn’t in anybody else. The environmental conditions on Earth create a specific brain chemistry in those humans born and raised there, just as different planetary conditions create different brain chemistry in others, even if they are as human as you and I. Your brain was further affected by making that initial slipstream jump from the Delta Quadrant all those years ago. Now it's progressed to the point that we can see the results on scans, map the area of the brain being affected and predict the outcome. You’re just further along than the rest of us, who will no longer be assigned to Millennium, or any of its transwarp sister ships.”
Janeway didn’t want to acknowledge what that meant, her heart fighting what her mind was already processing. Her breathing became shallow, her throat closing and the back of her eyes stung.
“Meaning what, exactly.” Her voice was hard, but completely level, even as she screamed and struggled within.
“You can’t take another transwarp jump, Kathryn. You just can’t. Your brain chemistry would be irrevocably altered, and damage would become progressive after that. It’s a form of CTE.”
At Janeway’s expression, Pulaski elaborated. “Chronic traumatic encephalopathy. It’s the same when someone experiences repetitive concussions over a short period of time. Impact trauma is not exactly what happens when a Terran is exposed to the transition jumps, but the effect on the brain is the same. The cells die, synapses are compromised and the surrounding tissue becomes diseased, mimicking dementia.”
She leaned forward, her expression one of great sympathy.
“I’m sorry, Kathryn. So far as other quadrants are involved, you are essentially grounded from this moment forward.”
The End
Initially, I had intended for Vash to be in the stasis pod, which would have involved Q, but as I was putting up the early installments of season three, I realized I hadn't accounted for Saavik which had been the plan all those years ago. But putting Saavik in that stasis pod completely altered the back 3/4ths of the story. I'm not complaining because it subsequently provided the necessary threads for the last three stories in the series, especially M28, but it did make finishing it take much longer than I'd intended. Again, my apologies.