Muddled Minds
G. L. Dartt
She sat bolt upright in bed, her breath rasping in her chest, and the blood pounding in her ears. The thud of heart was so pervasive, it made her whole body shake. Low illumination emitted by the dim lighting running along the base of the bulkhead allowed her to see that, other than the woman stirring drowsily beside her, the bedroom was empty, and she wondered why she thought it would be any different. It was home, or at least, what passed for one, in the captain’s cabin on the Federation starship, USS Millennium, its ongoing mission to explore the Gamma Quadrant.
“Annika?” Janeway’s voice was raspy from sleep. “What’s wrong?”
Blinking furiously, the starship captain sat up beside her spouse and put her hand on the base of Seven’s spine. The warmth of her fingers barely registered on Seven’s nerve endings. “My God, you’re sweating!”
Seven inhaled slowly, trying to calm the rush of nanoprobes flooding her system, her cortical node responding to her agitation by ramping into overdrive, enhancing her strength, speed, and reflexes. She was afraid to move lest she cause damage, either to her partner or to her surroundings.
“Annika?” Janeway was becoming alarmed, the drowsiness leaving her eyes to show the sharp glint of concern. “Talk to me.” The last was phrased more like an order than a request.
Swallowing hard, Seven focused her attention on Janeway. “It was a…dream,” she said, the words coming slow as she sorted through her thoughts.
“It sounded more like a nightmare.” Janeway ran her hand gently up Seven’s spine, stroking her with a soothing touch, fingertips light on her moist skin. “Go on. What do you remember?”
“I was at a gathering…similar to the one we attended during our last leave.”
“The Brown County Fair?”
“Yes, but it was not that particular event.” Seven evaluated her memories. “It was on a different world, one I believe I visited when I was a child. I was very young in my dream, with my parents. My father picked me up and was holding me in a playful manner. I was looking down at him and suddenly, he became Borg. Everyone became Borg. That is when I woke up.” She shook her head, trying to clear away the muzzy feeling that still existed. “I was terrified.”
“It was a terrifying dream,” Janeway pointed out.
“Yes, Kathryn,” Seven countered fretfully, “But it was not that excessive a scenario. My parents did become Borg, though not in that manner. Why would my subconscious deem it to be of significance at this point in my life? And why was it accompanied by such strong, uncontrollable emotion?”
Janeway regarded her steadily for a long moment, her lips pursed slightly, a small furrow in her brow. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “And you’re right. It does seem like there should be more for you to have such a physical reaction. Perhaps we should consult with sickbay, just to make sure there’s nothing else happening here.”
“Do you really believe that is necessary?”
“This wouldn’t be the first time a strange dream was actually a portent of something else,” Janeway reminded her gently. “Something dangerous. We seem to run into that now and again. If we’ve learned nothing else from what’s come before, we need to beware of that.”
Seven considered it and reluctantly nodded. “That is correct. I shall dress and go there immediately.” She held out her hand as Janeway started to pull aside the covers. “There is no need for you to accompany me, Kathryn. Go back to sleep. Your duty shift does not begin for another five hours.”
“Do you honestly believe that I can sleep with you being examined in sickbay?” Janeway reached over to brush her fingertips along Seven’s jaw. Though her words were playful, her eyes remained a dark grey, indicative of deeper, more serious emotion. “Don’t be silly, darling. I’m coming with you.”
Though the lights were lowered to nighttime running in sickbay, Dr. Lewis was still on duty. Unsurprising since his holographic matrix had no need of the sleep that the rest of the medical staff, including the ship’s elderly Chief Medical Officer, required. That was just as well as far as they were concerned because not only would that keep this unscheduled visit quiet, he had been Seven’s doctor from the beginning and knew her physiology better than anyone.
“Obviously, my first question would be; are you detecting any Borg presence?” he asked as he ran a tricorder over her skull. “That could influence what would otherwise be an innocuous dream.”
Seven frowned. “The Borg have never assimilated species in the Gamma Quadrant.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Janeway said, her tone noticeably cooler as happened whenever there was a possibility of the Collective’s presence. “Lieutenant?”
Thinking it unlikely, but nonetheless, obeying her captain’s request, Seven mentally activated her transponder, carefully opening it to barely a trickle, and when nothing happened, tapped into it fully, trying to detect any Borg presence in the vicinity. Because of her anti-Borg nanoprobes, there was no risk of re-assimilation, but it could conceivably attract the Collective’s attention to a ship full of people who did not share Seven’s immunity. There was no touch from the hive, however, no echo of their existence.
“It is silent,” she told them. “There are no voices.”
Janeway looked appropriately relieved.
“I’m not seeing any evidence of a bio or chemical abnormality in your brain or anywhere else in your body.” The Doctor put down the first small probe and picked up another, slighter larger one. “I can run a thorough diagnostic on your implants to make sure they’re not beginning to malfunction, but that may take some time.”
“Do it,” Janeway interjected before Seven could respond. “Better to be safe than sorry.”
Piqued, Seven was about to object to Janeway’s presumption about deciding which treatment she should receive before realizing that it was more the captain speaking than her spouse. And a captain always had to prioritize ship safety over that of an individual crewmember, regardless of their personal relationship. With an effort, Seven swallowed back her initial comment and limited herself to a nod.
The Doctor smiled faintly. “All right, but sometimes a duck is just a duck.”
“Duck?” Seven repeated doubtfully, wondering how aquatic fowl had become involved.
“He meant that sometimes a dream is just a dream,” Janeway explained, putting her hand gently on Seven’s arm. “And I hope that in this case, we’re both just wildly overreacting, but I think that after all these years I know you pretty well, darling. As you’ve come to know yourself. We both agree your reaction to this dream was…well, unusual.”
And ‘unusual’ frequently preceded dangerous and threatening, Seven allowed silently. “Kathryn, this certainly will not require your presence. Return to our quarters.”
Janeway shook her head. “I won’t be able to go back to sleep. But it’s true that you don’t need me hovering over you. I’ll stop by the Nexus for breakfast and relieve the conn early.” She offered a crooked grin. “Shake up the gamma shift a little bit.”
After the captain left, Seven focused her full attention on the Doctor. “Do you truly believe this incidence is of no consequence?”
His dark eyes were steady on hers. “What I believe is of no relevance. The captain thinks it’s important. Besides, I trust her instincts.”
“As do I.” Seven resigned herself to the thorough examination the Doctor proceeded to put her through, from head to toe, from the complete surface check of her implants to deep molecular scans of her internal organs. By the time all the tests were complete, they were well into the alpha shift and nothing had been found.
“Obviously, we have overreacted,” Seven said, annoyed. “This has been an inefficient use of my time.”
“Not totally useless. You won’t need your monthly checkup next week,” the Doctor pointed out with a smile. “This was far more extensive than that procedure.”
Seven did not find that comforting as she exited sickbay and headed for her lab. Millennium was on course for a sector of space containing an anomaly that was emitting the most intriguing readings. Astrometrics was anticipating a very busy upcoming week as they went over the readings and determined why the emissions were reacting with the nearby star in such a way. Seven had just stepped off the turbolift for the deck where her lab was located when the ship shuddered, a small, but deeply pervasive shiver that ran through the bulkheads. She instantly identified it as impact from weapons fire and promptly returned to the lift she had just exited.
“Bridge,” she stated firmly. Linking her hands behind her back, she waited with a touch of impatience as the turbolift carried her upward. Stepping onto the bridge, the crimson illumination and controlled sense of urgency washed over her, sparking a rush of nanoprobes through her system for the second time in the day. Unlike before, this was an oddly pleasant sensation, heightening her awareness and making her feel alert, yet calm and in control.
She strode briskly to her science station, the location altered during the ship’s last overhaul. Now, instead of the ship’s commanding officer perched higher than her crew, aloft and separate, the captain was bracketed by her exec on one side and her chief science officer on the other. Janeway hadn’t necessarily liked it, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Seven, on the other hand, appreciated it greatly, particularly the prospect of being within arm’s reach of her spouse if necessary.
Tuvok, Millennium's first officer, was already in his seat, as were the other alpha shift officers in the semi-circle at the front of the bridge; Ro at the weapons console, T’Shanik at the central helm and the handsome newcomer, Rekar, at the ops station. Janeway glanced over at Seven as she took her position, offering the very slightest of smiles before resuming her focus on the fore viewscreen. Seven followed her gaze, lifting a brow as she saw the vessel attacking them. It was large and cubical, looking more utilitarian and far less artistic than the graceful lines of Federation ships. Bristling with weapon arrays, the ruby beams lancing from their muzzles seem to lack the power to do more than shake Millennium with their impact. A quick glance at her console revealed that their shields were holding firmly. It was clearly less of a threat than a nuisance at this point.
“They’re still not responding to any of our hails, Captain,” Rekar said. “They continue to target our engines.”
“Captain, I believe I see no other option,” Tuvok noted coolly.
“I’m afraid I have to agree, Commander,” Janeway said. “Return fire, Ro. Gently, if possible.”
“The ship is phasing in and out of subspace, Captain. I can’t get a lock on them.” Ro responded, a touch of frustration lacing her tone. “My targeting array is useless.”
“Clever of them,” Janeway murmured, almost to herself. In a louder tone, she added, “Best guess, then, Laren.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowed.
Ro didn’t curse but Seven detected an exasperated release of breath from the direction of the security chief as she hunched over her console, trying to target the enemy ship. To assist, Seven assessed the data scrolling across her screen regarding the attaching vessel’s schematics and energy readings.
“Commander, I detect a slight increase in tachyon energy just before the vessel phases back into our space,” she offered after a few seconds. “Synchronize your console with mine.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Ro responded immediately. Armed with that split-second advantage of knowing when and where the vessel was phasing in to fire at them, Ro began to prepare a response. At the same time, Seven became aware of the aft turbolift door hissing open and she glanced over her shoulder to see the new ship’s counselor enter the bridge.
Sydney Stone was a tall, well-built woman, with a thick mass of raven dark hair and flinty green eyes. Her features were too strong to be considered beautiful, but her aura of calm and laugh lines around her eyes and mouth made her attractive. Seven hadn’t had opportunity to interact with her other than seeing her across the room one evening in the Nexus, but others Seven had talked with in her staff seemed to think she made an acceptable addition to the crew, particularly after the unexpected loss of Kes, the previous counselor.
“Is there a reason you’re on the bridge, Commander?” Janeway demanded. Seven was surprised at the sudden edge in her tone. “This isn’t a particularly good time for a tour.”
“During my previous postings, I was usually assigned the bridge as my battle station, Captain,” came the measured reply. There was no rebuke in the words. It was merely a statement of fact. Still, Seven thought she detected just the slightest hint of challenge in the comment.
Apparently, Janeway did as well. “Fine. Just stay out of the way.”
Seven couldn’t remember Janeway ever sounding that short with any other officer, not even during a Red Alert, and apparently, neither could certain others on the bridge. Tuvok lifted an eyebrow inquiringly as he glanced at Janeway and even Ro paused briefly in her task to look back, giving the counselor the once over, as if committing her to memory as someone who could turn out to be a potential threat. For her part, Stone merely smiled faintly and found a seat off to the side at an auxiliary station. Seven tried not to sigh. She suspected that the captain and the counselor had somehow began their interaction inauspiciously and made a mental note to discuss it more extensively with her spouse.
Later.
At present, Ro appeared to have solved the phasing problem. Dual beams of ruby light lanced from Millennium, impacting the enemy vessel. It reeled away hastily, trailing smoke and a little debris. It seemed their shields were not as efficient as the Federation vessel.
“Cease fire,” Janeway said. “Hail them again.”
A moment passed. “No response, Captain,” Rekar said. His handsome brow was furrowed as he studied his ops display “They’re breaking off their attack.”
“And retreating, Captain,” T’Shanik noted coolly. “Shall I pursue?”
Janeway sat a moment, her expression thoughtful, which caused Seven no end of trepidation. “Not too close. Hang back and see if you can track them by their warp signature. I’d like to see where they’ve been and where they might be going but I don’t want them to know we’re following. At the very least, I want some kind of warning if they try to sneak up on us again.” Janeway stood up. “In the meantime, resume course for the anomaly. You have the conn, Tuvok. I’ll be in my ready room.”
As Janeway turned to go, Stone stepped forward. “Captain, if I could have a moment of your time?”
Janeway hesitated, and then abruptly dipped her head in a less than gracious nod. Stone followed her into the room at the aft of the bridge, the door sliding shut firmly behind them. At her station, Seven frowned briefly, wishing she had some way to hear and see what was happening inside.
Or rather, that she actually dared check out what was going on since she was perfectly capable of tapping into the internal sensors that monitored the ready room. But being undetected in her spying would be less simple. Every time she had conducted similar unauthorized and, apparently, unethical actions, Tuvok and subsequently, Ro, acting under the captain’s orders, had increased internal security to, if not stop Seven’s incursions, then to make them more easily detected. Deciding that the resulting repercussions and Janeway’s opinion of them would not be worth any information she might accumulate, Seven grudgingly turned her attention to her console instead, and began the task of tracing the elusive, intermittent warp signature back to its origin.
Janeway walked behind her desk and sat down, conscious of Stone’s piercing gaze following her every motion. Assuming a posture of relaxation, she indicated the empty chair. “Please.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“What can I do for you?” Janeway purposefully made her voice as neutral as possible. She was aware that she had been less circumspect on the bridge and some of her staff had noticed it. Ro had caught it. Janeway regretted her lapse. It was unprofessional.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“Oh? For what?”
Stone offered a charming smile and it transformed her features, making them beautiful. “For us getting off on the wrong foot. I can see now that my approach was completely inappropriate for the type of captain you are.”
Janeway absorbed that. Their first meeting had taken place a few days out of Earth and had been less than cordial, with Stone presenting the idea she held autonomy from the command chain. It had been all Janeway could do to maintain her temper and answer in the politest way possible that it would be unwise for Stone to “hold her breath expecting that to stand” before stomping out of the counselor’s office. She’d done her best to avoid Stone ever since until she’d figured out the best way to handle her.
“And what type of captain is that?” she asked dryly.
Stone managed to look a bit sheepish. Janeway wasn’t sure the counselor felt that contrite but she allowed that it was an effective enough expression for her to soften a little.
“Someone who’s been at this a long time and knows herself, her ship and her crew very well.” Stone held out a placating hand. “In my defense, I’ve been dealing with very young commanding officers on military ships for the past few years where I was required to be both mentor and senior advisor. The psychological dynamic between them and myself has been different than it should and will be between us. Unfortunately, I was impatient in our first encounter and simply utilized the same briefing technique I’ve used in my previous postings. But trying to establish my professional boundaries with you in that fashion was completely inappropriate.”
“I see,” Janeway said slowly and she supposed she did.
Stone was a contemporary, age-wise, and would have been significantly older than many of the officers that ended up serving on and commanding the sleek, small fighter vessels prevalent during the worst part of the war. Probably outlining her authority and establishing herself as quickly as possible would have been the most expeditious way of beginning her tour of duty on such ships. According to her record, Stone’s previous vessel, the USS Athena, had frequently patrolled the most active front lines during the war, and had been performing guard duty along the Romulan Neutral Zone ever since. Not to mention that the Athena was such a small vessel, Stone had also been acting as both the exec and the ship’s chief medical officer. It was a lot to have on one’s plate and undoubtedly, it had been a huge adjustment coming over to an old-style Starfleet science vessel where her duties were limited to being simply a ship’s counselor once more.
“And honestly, Captain, being transferred to your vessel was completely unexpected,” Stone added quietly. “I had little time to prepare.”
Janeway felt her lips quirk in a humorless smile. Stone had been on leave on Earth, a rare and much cherished concession to Terran Starfleet officers, when she had been unceremoniously yanked from her R&R and told to report to Millennium. She’d barely had an hour to acknowledge her orders, grab a few personal items and transport onto the ship before it broke orbit. She hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye to her previous captain and crewmates. That would have been handled by Starfleet Command.
Janeway could understand how that could totally put someone off their game.
“I appreciate your apology, Counselor,” she said graciously. “If you’d like, I’m more than happy to consider this a fresh start.”
“Thank you.” Stone abruptly stood up and stuck out her hand. “Hello, Captain Janeway, I’m your new counselor. How may I serve you?”
Janeway smiled again, and this time, it did hold humor. Graciously, she took the hand and shook it briefly. “Counselor Stone, it’s good to meet you. Please, just be there for my crew when they need you.”
“And you?”
Janeway forced herself not to react, judging the glint in Stone’s eyes. Clearly, the counselor wasn’t about to stop pushing her boundaries entirely, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It kept a captain on her toes. Of course, Stone had no way of knowing that Janeway already had someone who kept her on her toes professionally or that she was married to her. Or that she was as content and secure in her personal life as a starship captain could be. Maybe in another time and another place, Stone would have provided some comfort and insight into Janeway’s psyche. On Millennium, Janeway merely needed the counselor to attend to the crew.
“I think that after you’ve spent some time on this vessel, you’ll find that I’m not really in need of your services,” she said mildly. “But, my door is always open should you require anything along that line.”
Stone blinked as if taken aback a little by the smooth turnaround and Janeway kept the laugh that was threatening to erupt swallowed back. All she could think was that Stone had yet to run into Seven when she was in a mood to be Borg. If Stone was confounded now…
“Of course, Captain.” Stone paused, as if searching for something to say. “If that’s everything?”
“I’ll let you know, Counselor.”
Janeway watched the door slide shut behind Stone and felt that encounter had gone much better than their initial visit. Certainly, it had shaded far more in her favor. For the time being, she’d have to be content with that.
Dismissing the counselor from her mind, she touched the screen resting on her desk to bring up the recent bridge files. She wanted to study the alien vessel’s attack patterns, see how the ship managed to shift in and out of subspace so precisely. Millennium could do it at any given time by utilizing her warp engines briefly and then immediately shutting them down, but generally it could only happen once. It was referred to as the Picard Maneuver, making it appear as if the ship was ‘jumping’ from place to place in a very small area, but no Federation vessel she knew could do it so quickly so many times in succession that it appeared to be literally phasing in and out of subspace. That was intriguing and she worked on the puzzle for a few hours before a chirp from her communicator interrupted her attention.
“Bridge to Janeway.”
She touched the golden insignia on her chest, activating the comm. “Go ahead, Tuvok.”
“We’ve traced the warp signature. It originated from a star system lying two parsecs from our course. All indications are that it is now returning there.”
Janeway considered it a few seconds. The vessel had turned out to be no real threat, but she was curious as to why it would attack them in the first place. And curiosity was as a good a reason to plot her course as any other. Indeed, the simple joy of exploration was Millennium’s mission statement while out here in the Gamma Quadrant.
She smiled to herself. “Set a course, Tuvok. I want to see what’s going on.”
“What of the anomaly?”
“It’ll still be there in a few days,” Janeway responded dryly, though she knew the science section would be annoyed by the delay in pursuing the research they had planned over the next few days. But they’d get over it, particularly if something new and unusual turned up in their detour.
Shutting down her console, she rose from her desk and strolled out onto the bridge. Seven and Ro, she noted, had turned their stations over to their backups. They would be back if hailed but now, they weren’t needed on the bridge. Taking a seat, she leaned over toward Tuvok, who was intent on his screen.
“Tell me more.”
“I am unsure there is more to tell at this point, Captain.” His brow lifted slightly as he glanced at her. “There are two habitable planets in the system of unremarkable technology. We’ve traced the warp signature to the third one. There does appear to be a great deal of interstellar travel between it and the fourth world, but other than the signature we traced, no indication of travel outside the system.”
“Hmm.” Janeway thought about that. “You don’t suppose that was their planet’s maiden warp voyage, do you?” From the front of the bridge, she heard a small chuckle from Ops. “Something to share, Mr. Rekar?”
He turned in his seat, looking over his shoulder. “I was just thinking, Captain, that perhaps we merely scared them. Imagine, they’re on their first big exploratory voyage when they immediately run into a ship three times their size just outside their star system. They panic, fire all their weapons, and then run for home as soon as we fire back.”
“That theory doesn’t explain why they didn’t respond to our peaceful hail,” T'Shanik pointed out.
He paused, considering that. “Maybe they didn’t understand any of them?” he offered weakly. “Maybe they’re a species where the translator doesn’t work for them?”
“Possible but not probable,” Tuvok countered coolly. “I am detecting a multitude of understandable transmissions from both planets, not only subspace communications, but of an informational and entertainment nature. If we can understand them, they should certainly be able to understand us.”
Janeway tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Can you isolate some of those transmissions, Tuvok? Develop an overview of their culture?” She paused. “In fact, you should get together with Counselor Stone and the science department. Let’s figure out why our first encounter with these people went so badly.”
Three hours later, Janeway met with her senior staff in the conference room. She nodded briefly at Seven as she took a seat at the far end of the table opposite her, and then glanced around the table. Ro and Tuvok were conferring over a padd to her right while Rekar and T’Shanik added what they could. Stone sat between B’Elanna and Pulaski, studying Janeway with a quiet intensity that didn’t please the captain, but really wasn’t the sort of thing to which she could object. Once everyone had settled in a little, Janeway cleared her throat, the tiny sound enough to draw everyone’s attention.
“All right, what do we have?”
“In a word, Captain, xenophobic,” Ro offered immediately. “The Terrax, as they call themselves, are terrified of alien contact.”
“It is extreme,” Stone added. “To an almost pathological level.” She hesitated, looking towards Janeway and at her slight nod of permission, she leaned forward and continued. “Much of their entertainment programming deals with themes of alien invasion and being enslaved by cultures of extraterrestrial origin. Usually the aliens are as physiologically different as possible from the Terrax, but even the stories that involved aliens that resembled them visually are malevolent in intent. In many ways, those type are portrayed in an even worse manner, involving deception, mental manipulation and conspiracies with a purpose toward the eventual annihilation of their species.”
B’Elanna shrugged. “So, what? Humans had that form of entertainment at one time, too. I remember when Tom had all those ‘movie nights’ on Voyager. Half the time the films he chose were about aliens, or alien predators, or aliens fighting alien predators, not to mention giant alien ships appearing over Earth cities for no apparent reason other than to destroy them.”
Janeway allowed herself a moment to remember those rare times in the Delta Quadrant; remembrances of sitting with Seven in the holodeck that had been transformed into a 20th century movie theater, eating buttered popcorn in the dark as they watched the two-dimensional stories flickering on a giant screen, both women alternately amused, confused and enthused by what humans of that time had considered entertainment. A glance down the table where Seven offered her a fond expression indicated that she was also remembering those times, and Janeway felt that familiar warmth of simply knowing Seven was there and loving her completely.
“Yes, but that was only a small percentage of Human popular culture of that time,” she reminded B’Elanna. “We also watched many films that portrayed aliens in a positive light, and showed space exploration as something to be embraced.”
“On these two worlds, xenophobia is a universal theme,” Stone said. She reached up to tuck a long strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Not only in their fictional stories, but in their informational programming. I’m convinced that the reason they developed warp drive was not to explore space beyond their system, but to create a fleet of space vessels to protect themselves against this sort of incursion.”
Janeway glanced at Rekar. “Any indication that they know we’re here?”
“No, Captain,” he responded, touching his padd as his dark eyes studied the readout intently. Janeway was quite pleased with his attention to detail. Recruiting him from the USS Malinche had been well worth the effort, regardless of how angry Captain Sanders had been. “We’re being careful to remain outside the range of their sensors.”
“Good.” Janeway thought about it a moment. “Since they have warp capability, this is a viable opportunity for a First Contact scenario, but after hearing of their trepidation about meeting other species, maybe it’s not a question of can we contact them, but rather should we contact them?”
For a moment, there was a silence as her crew gave all due consideration to the question. Janeway noticed Stone looking around the table with an evaluating expression, as if trying to determine how the others would respond to their captain, which would, in turn, determine her response. That was fine as far as Janeway was concerned. If the counselor had spent a little more time learning about her situation rather than being so anxious to set boundaries between them, Janeway wouldn’t have had a problem with her, but then, she supposed, better late than never.
Even Kelly had come around to her way of doing things in the end and that had been a much harder nut to crack than the counselor would ever be.
Ro leaned back in her chair, arms crossed loosely over her chest as the discussion regarding the Terrax began. She wasn’t sure what the consensus would be or what the captain would decide, but she was hoping they would bypass any away mission to this world. First Contact was dangerous enough, but with a xenophobic population, it would be almost impossible for her to keep the away team safe.
“If we do choose to contact them,” Stone offered, “We could show them that there’s nothing to fear from other lifeforms.” She was eyeing the captain surreptitiously, as if trying to gage her reactions.
Ro studied Stone with interest. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on between the new ship’s counselor and the captain, but it was clear there was a tension there. Perhaps not so much at present, but a moment had existed on the bridge. Ro resolved to do an extensive background check on Stone, find out all her secrets and determine if there was any reason for the ship’s security chief to become involved.
“But there is plenty of reason for them to fear,” T’Shanik noted logically. “It is mere happenstance that we were their first encounter. In this area of the Gamma Quadrant, it could just as easily have been a Jem’Hadar ship that found them. At that point, they would merely be another species for the Dominion to conquer.”
Ro thought that was rather a good point and directed a slight nod toward T’Shanik. The Vulcan, of course, did not display any emotion but her eyebrow did quirk a little in Ro’s direction. As a Bajoran growing up under the brutal occupation of the neighboring Cardassians, Ro knew all too well what it was like being conquered. She didn’t necessarily blame the Terrax for holding the position they did. In some cases, like this one, it was simply pragmatic.
“There’s always reason to fear,” Pulaski argued. “What’s wrong with providing a different viewpoint?”
“But are they ready to accept a different viewpoint?” Rekar noted. Ro took note of how comfortable he seemed in speaking up. Clearly it hadn’t taken long for him to feel part of the senior staff, an ability to adapt that came from years of experience. Ro still didn’t know how Janeway had managed to snag a veteran ops officer so quickly and easily after losing Nog. “If they’re adamantly, maybe even violently opposed…well, it’s extremely difficult to offer a set of new concepts when you’re being chased by a mob with pitchforks.”
“In addition, it would be difficult to offer new concepts when we are unsure what those concepts must be.” Everyone turned to look at Seven. She didn’t offer opinions often in these situations where it was often a question of ethical versus pragmatic action, but when she did, people tended to listen. “If this were the Alpha Quadrant, the Federation would establish a covert scientific operational team to observe this culture over a long period of time, determine what is the root cause of their xenophobia and construct a strategy to circumvent it, all before ever initiating First Contact. Such a strategy could take years to implement. Obviously, Millennium has neither the time nor the resources to initiate such a mission, nor conduct it with any kind of efficiency.”
Janeway glanced at Ro. “What’s our security chief’s opinion?”
Ro felt her lips quirk. It would be a sardonic smile at best, she knew. “There is a great potential for an away team to sustain casualties, particularly if discovered. While Starfleet officers are always willing to risk their lives for the greater good, I just don’t see any greater good in this case.”
Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “I tend to agree with you, and with Seven. There is very little chance of conducting a successful away mission in this instance. We’ll spend the next twenty-four hours gathering as much information with our long-range sensors and then we’ll break orbit. Lt. T’Shanik, make sure we remain undetected by the Terrax. Dismissed.”
Ro exhaled slowly, a silent sigh of relief, and gathered up her pads to join the exodus from the room with the rest when a quiet, “Commander Ro, a moment, please,” from Janeway made her pause. Resisting the urge to sigh again, this time not so silently, Ro settled back into her seat.
“Captain?”
“Regarding the incident with the Founder a few nights ago,” Janeway said silkily. “Your security detail responded with impressive alacrity.”
Ro considered that mild observation with the same care and attention she would bestow upon a rigged plasma charge. “They were in the area,” she said finally.
“I suspected as much.” Janeway paused, her jaw tensing slightly as if she were chewing on what she was about to say next. “It makes me wonder why they were in the area in the first place.”
Ro wanted to address that observation even less than the previous one. “They were under orders to maintain a presence.”
“In who’s vicinity?”
“Captain?” Ro contrived to look as ignorant as possible.
Janeway leaned forward a little, pinning Ro in place with an implacable stare. “Who were they following? Me or the Founder?”
“Security would be remiss if they didn’t keep an eye on a known enemy of the Federation.” Ro thought that was generalized enough. She watched Janeway closely, relaxing a little when she saw the tiny quirk appear at the corner of her mouth, knowing that meant the captain was trying not to smile.
“At whose orders?”
Suddenly Ro wasn’t relaxed any longer because that was a complicated question to answer. She tried for vagueness, hoping it would be sufficient though she doubted it would. Janeway was like a dog with a bone when it came to what happened on her vessel. “The safety of the ship is everyone’s responsibility, Captain.”
Janeway stared at her a moment, a calculating expression in those eyes, more grey than blue at the moment, and then exhaled audibly, settling back in her seat. “Tuvok, then. I suspected as much.”
She had? Ro felt a few seconds of surprise before reminding herself exactly who she was dealing with. “Do I need to speak with him?” Janeway added in a totally noncommittal tone.
“It’s already been handled, Captain,” Ro said truthfully.
For a moment, she thought back to the morning immediately after the incident. The security report had come across her desk and she immediately enjoyed a heated discussion with M’Reek about who exactly oversaw internal security and who he needed to clear things with before going ahead with any similar operation. She then had a far more logical, but no less pointed discussion with the ship’s exec. Tuvok had expressed the opinion that he was merely trying to ease some of her responsibilities due to her current family status. She asked him to remember how Chakotay had assumed such liberties in the early days of Voyager while establishing his territorial boundaries and what that meant to Tuvok. She was not so gauche as to bring up ‘feelings’ but certainly reminded Tuvok of the lack of respect such actions insinuated. Point taken, he had apologized gracefully and promised it wouldn’t happen again.
Yet, it still bothered Ro a little. Tuvok wouldn’t have even presumed she needed ‘assistance’ in her duties because of her newborn daughter, Miral if Ro hadn’t been showing signs of becoming lax in some way. Maybe it was only in a way that a Vulcan would notice, but still, if that were the case, Ro needed to improve, particularly before the captain decided she needed ‘assistance’. That type of intervention would require a lot more than mere conversation to circumvent.
“I see.” Janeway linked her fingers before her, dipping her head a little as she regarded Ro. “And the future?”
“Captain?”
“How do you plan to deal with the Founder and her people from here on out?”
Ro hesitated. “I’m certainly open to suggestions, Captain.” She reached up and rubbed the ridge between her brows fretfully. “It would be in our best interests if the Dominion envoy became more a part of the ship as Jiidan was. He wasn’t just the Confederation ambassador, he interacted with crew, went along on away missions, even lectured in the schools and played with the children.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting that the Jem’Hadar visit our playschools,” Janeway offered dryly.
“Just when the little rugrats are on a tear.” It was out her mouth before Ro realized and she was immensely gratified when Janeway laughed out loud.
“Actually, Seven suggested something similar. Not exposing the children on the ship to the Jem’Hadar, of course, but befriending the Founder and her entourage would certainly be the last thing our guests would expect.”
“Great minds, Captain.”
“Possibly.” Janeway shook her head slightly. “Or possibly you’re both being extremely naïve about any positive attitude on the part of the Founder. She clearly doesn’t want to be here.”
“You could use that, as well, Captain.”
“I suppose I could.” Drumming her fingernails lightly on the conference table, Janeway eyed her. “Is there anything else I should be aware of? Any difficulty?” The last was said with such delicacy that Ro knew she was referring once more to Tuvok’s intervention, only this time, it was more about her and her ability to attend to her duties. Exactly what she’d been afraid of. Fortunately, Ro had an easy counter for that.
“I was going to ask you that,” she said smoothly. “I haven’t had a chance to run a thorough background check on our new counselor.”
Janeway let out an exasperated breath. “You saw that, did you? I knew you had.”
“I knew you knew I had.”
Janeway blinked, clearly startled, and then laughed a little. Two chuckles in one encounter. Ro was on a roll when she could make the captain laugh out loud while on duty. It was hard enough to do when off duty in informal circumstances. “I don’t think you need to concern yourself. I believe we’ve managed to come to an accommodation.”
“Of course, Captain.” Ro intended to do a thorough check on Counselor Stone in any event. No more surprises for her. Not like what happened on their first year on Millennium when a crewmember turned out to be a member of the criminal organization known as the Orion Syndicate.
Janeway paused. “Let me know what you find out.”
Ro was careful to keep her face impassive. “Absolutely.” She leaned forward. “If that’s everything, ma’am?”
“Yes, thank you, Commander. I do like catching up every so often. You and B’Elanna need to come by for dinner some night.”
“We will,” Ro promised. “Once Miral is a little more settled in her routine. We’ll enjoy a night out.”
“I look forward to it. Just let us know when.”
Out on the bridge, Ro checked her console briefly, and then logged off, handing off to bridge support personnel before heading down to her office. The security department on Millennium enjoyed a lounge where they could play time honored games like darts and cards during downtime. Her office was at the other end of the room so she could gage the mood and attitudes of the officers on her way through. There was a discernible shift of body language, of straightening and a sense of alertness, indicating they knew she wasn’t happy. She was satisfied with that. A few days of keeping them on their toes would be good for them, particularly this early in the mission. She’d just have to be careful not to overdo it, to blunt their concentration by irrelevancies.
The door to her office hissed open as she approached and as she went through, she belatedly became aware that it wasn’t empty. Her phaser was drawn and in her hand without a second thought, purely instinctual. For a few seconds, she and the Jem’Hadar waiting in her office regarded each other with grave attention, and when nothing else happened, Ro reluctantly returned the weapon to the concealed holster in her uniform. His massive bulk made the room seem small, even though he wasn’t much larger than many of her security officers. Or perhaps it was his reptilian features, ominous and threatening, even when he clearly was trying not to be.
“I am Tular, First of the Triad,” he rumbled
Good for you, she thought but didn’t say. Instead, she took a seat behind her desk.
“Can I help you?” she said shortly, through clenched teeth. He continued to stand, but she stubbornly decided not to ask him to take a seat, even if it meant she developed a kink in her neck. Besides, she doubted that a Jem’Hadar would do anything so passive as sit down in an office chair and chat. It would probably collapse beneath him anyway.
“I would have words with you, warrior to warrior, to facilitate this situation between our leaders.” His voice was a low rumble, like the beginning of a landslide. It made her twitch internally. Some kind of subliminal resonances beneath the tone?
“Situation?”
“The mutual distrust they share.”
Ro resisted the urge to bang her head against her desk. Her day just became more and more complicated. “Forgive me, but this does not sound like something a Jem’Hadar would be discussing with me regarding a Founder.”
He paused, apparently considering her words. His head was tilted slightly as his golden, slit-pupil eyes studying her and she wondered briefly how he saw her, if it was as she did, or if it was in blurs of color, of infrared or a type of colorless night vision.
“I joined this mission at the request of Founder Odo,” he said finally. “It is his wish that this situation works out in a way that is beneficial to both the Dominion and the Federation.”
“I assure you, that’s the captain’s wish, as well.” She kept her face impassive but that was an interesting bit of information indeed. It meant that the First was not necessarily here to protect the Founder, but rather, was here as Odo’s eyes and ears, which put his loyalty with him rather than the envoy. She remembered that Odo had told the captain that the entourage he was sending was his most experienced people in the art of diplomacy. Clearly, he had meant it.
Ro leaned forward. “So, what exactly are you suggesting?”
Janeway was already back in her quarters by the time Seven logged off duty, curled up on the sofa with a book, a steaming mug of tea on the table beside her. She glanced up as Seven entered, a half smile edging her lips.
“Hello, darling. Long day?”
“There is a great deal of data on the Terrax,” Seven said shortly as she went to the replicator, programming in a simple nutritional supplement. The bluish liquid materialized in a tall, frosted glass and Seven was conscious of Janeway’s frown as she picked it up off the tray. The captain knew better than anyone that when Seven opted out of meal preparation, one of her favorite hobbies, and chose convenience instead, she was on the edge of her limits. Immediately, Janeway put down her book and patted the space beside her, inviting without words, for Seven to sit down.
Seven complied, feeling a sense of release as she leaned back against the cushions, her left side warmed against Janeway’s body. Sipping her drink slowly, she allowed the haven of her quarters and her partner to surround her, to comfort her. Janeway did not press, did not ask questions, she merely provided a loving presence, something that Seven needed now and was grateful for. After draining her drink and setting the empty glass down on the coffee table, she shifted onto her back, putting her legs up on the cushions. Laying across Janeway’s lap, she rested her head on the arm of the sofa as Janeway gathered her up in her arms and pulled her close, leaning over her.
Basking in the warmth of her, Seven felt the worst of the day’s stresses drain away. It bothered her that she required this time to ‘decompress’ as B’Elanna called it, but it was something that she found herself needing more and more … particularly since she had experienced an alternate timeline where Janeway had never become a starship captain and Seven had never been saved by her. Losing Kathryn in that manner had left Seven unsettled on a level that she didn’t quite understand and was only now beginning to acknowledge. It didn’t matter that they had found their way back to the right timeline, that they had resumed their lives, even taking the time and opportunity to renew their vows on Earth. She still felt unlike herself.
Janeway brushed her lips over Seven’s forehead. “What’s going on with you, love?” she asked in a low voice.
Seven shook her head fretfully. “I do not know,” she admitted.
Janeway seemed about to speak, stopped and regarded her a few seconds with dark grey eyes. “What can I do?” she asked finally, instead.
“I know of nothing you can do, Kathryn.” Seven reached up and touched her cheek lovingly. “It is enough to know you are here.”
“Always, my darling,” Janeway whispered fiercely. “Always.” Gently, she kissed her, and then again, deepening the tender connection as if to support her words.
Seven sighed happily when they finally parted and snuggled closer, deciding a change of subject was in order. “I was concerned today.”
“Indeed? What about?”
“I assumed you would wish to contact the Terrax. It is in your nature to want to enlighten a new culture, to reach out in friendship and teach a different path.”
“Perhaps, but I would hope after all these years, I would know the difference between teaching others about the Federation and causing chaos for no good reason.”
“It had nothing to do with our new counselor wanting to initiate an away mission?”
Seven listened to Janeway breathe for a few moments, detecting the deliberation in which air passed in and out, and knew she had piqued her partner. That was acceptable. Frequently she learned more when Janeway was a little emotional as opposed to when she was in complete control.
“You noticed that, then,” Janeway said in a mild tone.
“Not only I,” Seven pointed out. “Both Ro and Tuvok made note of it.”
“I knew Ro had.”
Seven eyed her narrowly. “What is the situation between you and Counselor Stone?”
“There is no situation between the counselor and myself. At least, not anymore. We settled it.”
Seven considered that, wondering if Janeway was being entirely forthcoming. After evaluating the sincerity in her eyes, she decided that she was, insofar as Janeway determined. Whether it was the case or not remained to be seen.
“And Laren?”
Janeway exhaled gustily. “What about her?”
“Why did you request that she remain behind after the staff meeting?”
“That was ship’s business and not necessarily any of yours,” Janeway replied, a bit pointedly.
Seven absorbed that. “Indeed.”
Immediately, Janeway pulled her closer. “Sorry, darling. There’s no reason for being so short with you. I guess I’m still a little on edge.”
“Because of the Dominion envoy?”
“Yes, it bothers me that they’re on board and I have yet to come up with a way to deal with them. Ro suggested the same thing you did, that I attempt to make them part of the ship. But if that’s the wrong tactic, if they’re here for reasons that are counter to the Federation, then I’ve opened my ship and crew up to unimaginable danger.”
“What can I do?”
Janeway paused and looked at her, a smile abruptly appearing on her face. “Thank you, darling,” she said after a few seconds, bending down to kiss her once more. “But now it’s my turn to say that I don’t know that there’s anything you can do.”
“I can befriend the Founder,” Seven pointed out. “The Great Link is described in Federation reports as something quite similar to what the Borg have always strived to achieve, a perfect meld of consciousness without the influence of technology. Surely that will provide some common ground for us.”
Janeway nuzzled Seven’s ear. “I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” she murmured.
“It would not make me uncomfortable,” Seven said honestly. “I would find it intriguing. I am very curious about the Great Link.”
“Ah.” Janeway appeared to consider that for a moment and from her expression, a slight furrow to her brow, a tightening around her mouth, Seven suspected that she wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about the idea. But since Janeway didn’t have many options on which to draw, Seven knew she would have to accept the suggestion. “Maybe if you just talk to her and see where it leads.”
“Yes, Kathryn, I will do that.” She reached up and nibbled along Janeway’s jaw. “But not now.”
Janeway offered a low chuckle. “Oh, did you have something else in mind?”
Seven knew that to be a rhetorical question as she captured the captain’s mouth in a searing kiss, and then another, losing herself in the taste and warmth of her partner as a thrill of desire lanced through her. She could feel Janeway’s hand rake through her hair, going to the clasp in back to let it flow free about her shoulders. Then insistent fingers were slipped between their bodies, working at the fastening of Seven’s tunic and pulling it open to allow access to the thin layer of sweater over her breasts. Covering the warm swells, Janeway squeezed lightly, her breath hot and quick against Seven’s lips.
The door chime was an unexpected and most unwelcome intrusion.
“Damn it,” Janeway growled. “Who would be bothering us this time of night?”
Whoever it was, it would have to be extremely important, Seven realized. Unlike Voyager, which had boasted a much smaller and more intimate command structure, Millennium’s crew knew that the captain’s quarters was Janeway’s sanctuary, her place to be with her wife and dog, a space that was outside her command as much as possible. They didn’t violate that sanctuary lightly. If they needed to speak with her that badly during her off-duty time, they generally requested a meeting in her ready room.
Untangling themselves, Janeway brushed her hands down the front of her uniform and raked her fingers through her hair to straighten both before going to the door. Meanwhile, Seven refastened her tunic, sitting upright on the sofa. She lifted an eyebrow when Ro entered the room at the captain’s invitation. The ship’s security chief glanced at Seven, her eyes narrowing, then back at Janeway.
“Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Janeway responded evenly.
“Yes,” Seven said plainly.
Janeway exhaled slowly as Ro’s lips quirked, but rather than address it, Ro focused on the captain. “I apologize, but what I’ve learned can’t wait.”
“I see.” Janeway motioned to the armchair. “Please.”
Ro took a seat gingerly, sitting formally, with hands on her lap as Janeway resumed her seat on the sofa across from her. However, neither began speaking. Instead, both looked pointedly at Seven who blinked, but held her ground. That tactic didn’t succeed when Janeway reached over and put a hand on her knee.
“I’m sorry, darling,” she said gently.
Seven hesitated a few seconds more, and then dipped her head reluctantly. “Very well,” she said with little grace. “I will be in the bedroom.” She shot a poisonous look at Ro who did not flinch in the slightest and retired to the inner room of her quarters. She lay down on the bed and with a rush of nanoprobes, tuned her cortical implant to enhance her audio input, enabling her to listen through the thick bulkhead to the women speaking in the living area.
“He was waiting in your office?” Seven easily identified Janeway’s strident command tones.
“Like he owned the place.” Ro’s tone was midway between annoyed and…admiring? Seven wasn’t sure. “He made it clear that he’s a plant put there by Odo. His whole team is loyal to him rather than to the Founders.”
Seven found that intriguing.
“But not Weyoun?”
“No, he’s the Founder’s man.”
“You believe this Jem’Hadar?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”
Janeway’s tone took on a thoughtful inflection. “Odo did say the Jem’Hadar he was sending were trained in diplomacy. That’s definitely his methodology than anything the Founders had done before.”
“Still, it could be a way to handle them on this mission.”
“Or it could be a clever way for us to trust one contingent in the envoy only to discover we’ve been betrayed further down the line.”
“Are you always this paranoid, Captain?”
“Aren’t you?” Janeway’s tone was pointed.
Ro laughed in a low tone. “Perhaps.” There was a pause. “I did a little checking on the Counselor after our meeting this afternoon. Nothing too extensive yet, but I did learn a few things.”
“Such as?”
“She is, or was, romantically involved with the captain of the Athena.”
“Involved? With Callie Fernandez? The youngest captain currently serving in the ‘Fleet?”
“That’s the scuttlebutt.”
Another pause and Seven imagined the expression on Janeway’s face. Knowing her spouse, it would be a combination of surprise and an immediate contemplation of exactly how she could best utilize this new piece of data. She still wasn’t completely sure what had happened between Stone and Janeway to create the distrust and antipathy she sensed in the captain toward the counselor.
“So, what exactly is your problem with Stone?”
Seven lifted a brow. That was unusually direct from Ro. She wondered if it would have the desired response when she had been unable to get anything out of Janeway earlier.
“I don’t have a problem with Counselor Stone,” Janeway said flatly.
There was silence and Seven knew Ro was staring at Janeway with that expression she did so well, part disbelief, part obvious contempt that anyone would be so foolish as to attempt to deceive her; albeit the latter tempered a bit because it was, after all, the captain she was staring at. The pause went on so long that Seven decided that even Ro’s best interrogation demeanor would not be successful when Janeway began speaking.
“Two days after we broke orbit from Earth, the good counselor hailed me and requested a meeting in her office. As soon as I arrived, she sat me down and told me that her position required that she maintain a certain independence of my command to perform her duties. Not only that, but that I was required to attend regular sessions with her to facilitate the proper flow of command/counselor interaction.”
“Those are the words she used? ‘Certain independence’?” Seven thought she could detect a decided note of amusement lacing Ro’s voice.
“Yes, and that I was to attend regular sessions was not phrased as a request, but rather more like an order.”
“Oh, Prophets. How well did that go over?”
“Approximately as well as you think it did.”
Ro laughed out loud. “What was she trying to do? Deliberately antagonize you?”
“I thought so at first, but in retrospect and in speaking with her again today, where she apologized, I’m beginning to believe that it was a matter of her utilizing a procedure that worked for her in previous postings. Other, younger captains are properly intimidated by the approach. I’m not and it didn’t take long for her to see that, hence the apology. As of now, I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.”
Seven highly doubted that since Janeway had subsequently prompted Ro to check up on the counselor after Stone had met with the captain to apologize. Ro must have thought so as well, since she didn’t respond to the comment any further.
“The other thing I discovered is that she’s the grand-daughter of Admiral Saavik.”
“Ah. I see.” Janeway’s tone indicated that piece of information both surprised and concerned her. Seven frowned. She had no idea who Admiral Saavik was. “No one’s ever determined what happened to the Admiral, have they?”
“If they have, it’s well above my security clearance.”
“Mine as well.” Janeway sounded a little frustrated at that. Ro made a sound then, almost as if she was reluctant to say something. Clearly Janeway picked up on it because she immediately demanded “What?”
“It might not be above Tuvok’s.”
“Tuvok’s?” Janeway sounded surprised. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure if you know how highly placed he was in Starfleet Intelligence the past few years, Captain.”
“Meaning?”
“It was a significant demotion for him to accept a exec position on a starship, even this starship.”
“Demotion?” Janeway suddenly sounded uncertain. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Captain.”
There was a pause. Then finally; “Thank you, Laren. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
Seven agreed.
Janeway hesitated as she stepped into the bedroom. Seven was already beneath the covers of their bed, snuggled up and apparently asleep. Except that she didn’t think Seven would have gone to bed considering how their evening had been progressing prior to Ro’s arrival. The security chief hadn’t been very long, delivering her information and then excusing herself for the evening after only about twenty minutes. Still, Seven had been acting, if not strangely the past week or so, then certainly not as she normally did. Perhaps she was too weary to have waited for Janeway.
Feeling a little disappointed, Janeway went into the ensuite where she completed her ablutions and returned to the bedroom. Sliding quietly between the sheets, she settled onto the mattress, easing over until she was snuggled next to her spouse. Seven stirred and turned over, wrapping her left arm around her and pulling her close. Janeway sighed happily and rested her head on the slender shoulder, basking in Seven’s warmth.
“What did Lt. Ro require?”
Janeway let out an amused breath, realizing the ‘sleep’ had been nothing more than pretense. “You know as well as I do what she wanted. You eavesdropped on everything.”
There was a silence, part offended dignity, but most was obvious guilt. Seven still had such a long way to go before she’d ever be able to play poker, let alone fool the woman who knew her almost as well as she knew herself, Janeway decided.
“Why would you conclude that?” Seven asked lamely.
Janeway laughed. “I know better than to request you not know what’s going on in your own quarters. It’s hard enough to keep you from monitoring everything that goes on in the rest of the ship.”
“Then why ask me to leave?”
“Appearances.” Janeway shrugged. “It made Ro feel better.”
“That is not efficient.”
“Appearances rarely are.” Janeway ran her hand over Seven’s stomach, tracing the fine line of muscle. “What do you think?”
“Regarding?”
“The Jem’Hadar, primarily. The information about the counselor was really none of your business.”
“And yet, you believed it to be yours.”
Piqued, Janeway poked Seven in the naval with a admonishing fingertip. “Never mind.”
Seven made a small sound of amusement before growing more thoughtful. “I am unsure what this means,” she admitted. “But I am beginning to feel that this mission has become far more complicated than is necessary.”
“I told you that on the very first day we discovered the Founder was going to be accompanying us,” Janeway reminded. “If I wanted all this political maneuvering, I would have accepted a promotion to admiral. I hate having it on my ship.”
“Regardless, what can be done?”
“I’m not sure, yet, beyond what we’ve already discussed.”
Seven looked thoughtful. “You remain unsettled. Perhaps that is affecting me on some subconscious level, which would explain my sense of unease.”
Janeway hoped it was be that easy an explanation. In truth, she was becoming worried about her partner, but she had learned not to push. “Perhaps,” she offered softly as she lifted up to rest her head on her palm, elbow supporting her. She looked down at Seven, eyes tracing every familiar plane and angle of her narrow, beautiful features. “You know how much I love you.”
“I do.” Seven gazed back at her, brilliant blue eyes searching Janeway’s. After a few seconds, a small smile quirked her full lips. “Kathryn?”
“Oh, I’m just thinking how fortunate I am, having you here at my side.”
“Assuming I am indeed Seven and not the Changeling.”
Janeway froze and Seven immediately appeared contrite. “I was being facetious, Kathryn. I did not mean it. It was a … ‘joke’.”
Letting out her breath, Janeway shook her head ruefully. “I know darling, but just the thought is enough to give me pause and that’s the greatest threat they pose. Not that they can shape shift, but that we know they can. We become paranoid, wondering what’s real and what isn’t. It shakes the very foundation of our perception.” She stared at her spouse, becoming thoughtful. “Except you weren’t fooled for a minute. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that until now. You took one look at her as Samantha and knew immediately that it was the Founder. How?”
Seven lifted her brow. “Her molecular structure is different. It is easily identifiable to the ocular implant of any Borg.”
“Hmm, that would have been useful to the Federation during the war…excluding the fact that they would have to have involved the Collective.” She circled Seven’s navel idly with her forefinger. “Is there any way for you to modify the ship’s sensors to allow security personnel to monitor individuals the same way? Allow them to ‘see’ like you do using a tricorder?”
“Possibly. I would have to consult with B’Elanna.”
“Then do so.”
“Now?”
Janeway laughed and drew her hand over Seven’s stomach and between her breasts, lightly, teasingly. “I think tomorrow will do.”
Seven tilted her head, her eyes growing deeper, the pupils dilating. “I would not wish to be derelict in my duties.”
“You do hold a certain duty to your captain that takes priority.” Janeway leaned down and kissed her, lingering over the touch of her lips and gentle flick of her tongue.
Seven slipped her arms around Janeway’s neck, holding her close. “This is never a duty, Kathryn.”
Smiling against her lips, Janeway felt herself be rolled over and the heavenly weight of her partner pressing down on her with loving force. Seven’s silky hair fell about their faces like a glorious golden rain and suddenly, instead of Janeway making love to Seven, Seven was making love to her. Not that Janeway minded, necessarily. She just wasn’t sure how intentions had shifted so quickly. She didn’t think about it long. Seven’s hands and mouth were doing the most wonderful things to her and it was becoming progressively difficult to think clearly about anything at all.
Seven seemed particularly amorous this night, her kisses more forceful than usual, her touch more aggressive. Janeway was thrilled and responded with her own ardor, fingertips sliding sensually over the silky skin of Seven’s back, pulling her closer. She found herself intoxicated by her scent, by her touch, consumed by her passion for her.
Afterward, as they lay snuggled together in the warm afterglow, Janeway listened to the steady throb of Seven’s heart beneath her cheek, feeling safe and secure in her arms, surrounded by her warmth. It should have made her feel completely content but there remained a nagging little worry at the back of her mind. Seven wasn’t quite right. Janeway didn’t know how or why, but she knew something was acting on Seven, something that Seven herself didn’t quite understand. Otherwise, she was sure Seven would share it with her.
Quietly into the darkness, she said, “Have you spoken with our new ship’s counselor, yet?” She didn’t necessarily like or want to deal with Stone on an ongoing basis, but she knew Seven always managed to mine valuable nuggets of information about herself in any of her dealings with various counselors over the years.
“Regarding?” Seven sounded surprised.
“Oh, nothing,” Janeway said easily. “I would just like your opinion of her.” And if Seven managed to get something more personal out of the encounter, that might be a bonus.”
“Are you attempting to manipulate me, Kathryn?” The tone was completely even. Janeway wasn’t sure if Seven was amused by the attempt or angered. Either one wasn’t necessarily good for her, but she wasn’t sure how she should extricate herself from it.
“Why would you say that?”
Seven made a small sound, fond exasperation. “Your body stiffens slightly whenever you are attempting to address an issue indirectly with me.”
Janeway absorbed that. “Sometimes it’s very frustrating being married to you.”
“How so?”
“You know me too well.”
“That does not answer my question.” Seven tightened her embrace slightly.
“It appears you already know the answer to the question you asked. You just want me to admit it.”
“I merely require clarification. Why exactly do you wish me to speak with the counselor? For your sake? Or mine?”
“Can’t we have both?” Janeway exhaled slowly. “Darling, would it hurt for you to speak with her? On both counts?”
Seven was silent for a moment. “No,” she decided finally.
“Might it help?”
“Possibly.”
Janeway didn’t say anything, thinking it would sound too inappropriately triumphant, thereby causing Seven to recant and refuse to see Stone just on principle. Besides, it was warm and cozy in Seven’s arms and she really didn’t want Seven to nudge her away in unspoken instruction to stay on her side of the bed. Not that she stayed for very long once sleep came anyway, but Janeway really wanted to remain where she was, tucked up nicely against Seven’s side, her head on her chest, arms and legs entangled so that it was difficult to know where she left off and Seven began.
“Darling?”
“Yes, Kathryn?”
“Am I out of line?”
Seven sighed softly. “No, but I do believe it would be more efficient were you less suspicious of new crewmembers.”
“I’m not suspicious of new crewmembers in general,” Janeway pointed out. “I’m merely wary of new senior staff members. Every mission, I manage to create a smoothly running team, and yet, the very next mission, at Starfleet’s insistence, I have to make changes and incorporate someone new. It’s tedious.”
“It is part of your duties. And part of how Starfleet now functions.”
“Doesn’t make it less tedious,” Janeway grumbled and snuggled closer, feeling drowsiness steal over her.
“Kathryn?”
“Yes, love?”
“Are you suspicious of Tuvok now, as well?”
Janeway absorbed that. In truth, she hadn’t really considered the full ramifications of what Ro had suggested during their discussion, but now was beginning to at Seven’s pointed and intelligent question. Her drowsiness dissipated.
“I don’t know,” she said finally, honestly. “I don’t want to be. I’ve known him since my first command and I’ve trusted him implicitly ever since. But I also can’t deny that I haven’t seen much of him the past few years and we really haven’t had a chance to catch up since he came on board. I also can’t deny that Starfleet Intelligence maintain their own counsel in ways that I, as a Starfleet captain, am uncomfortable with. It’s possible that he’s on board for reasons beyond merely acting as my first officer. It makes me feel uncertain, and I’m already feeling that because of the presence of the Founder and her entourage. That’s not a good thing.”
She rubbed Seven’s upper chest with her cheek fretfully, thinking about it. “I may have to have a good talk with him.”
“And if you determine he is operating under orders other than yours?”
“Then, I’ll just have to deal with it. I guess what I really want to know is if he’s here because the Founders are here, which I can understand and accept, or if he’s here for reasons I have no clue about…” She paused and inhaled sharply. “Well, that will be much harder.” She lifted her head and looked down on Seven in the dimness, peering into her knowing blue eyes. “You do like posing the difficult questions, don’t you?”
“No, I do not, Kathryn.” Seven reached up and ran her fingertips lightly along Janeway’s jaw. “I do, however, consider it my duty as your spouse to act as your…’sounding board’ when we are alone.”
Janeway felt a wave of tenderness. “I know, but sometimes I wish you wouldn’t do it before I’m trying to go to sleep.”
“Ah.” Seven smiled faintly. “Have I made it difficult for you to sleep? In that event, it is incumbent upon me to relieve that burden.” She slipped her hand down to Janeway’s breast, toying with the nipple. “Indeed, I must now find a way to help you relax once more.”
Janeway’s breath caught at the sharp sensation that tingled from the caress, instantly reawakening the passion she thought had been already well sated this night. Of course, that had always been Seven’s power over her, an innate ability to arouse and provoke with a mere word or touch, and one that had grown inexplicably stronger the longer they were together.
“I …uh, think that would be…oh, rather nice.”
B’Elanna slammed her hand down on the uncooperative console, putting a minor dent in it before she regained control of her admittedly short temper and started all over again. She was just so tired. Sometimes it felt as if sleep was something she would never do again as an all-night thing. It would always be this series of naps grabbed between duty and looking after Miral and trying to occasionally connect with Laren. She just didn’t know if staying on Mars would have been better or if it just would have been more of the same. At least, here on Millennium, the surroundings were familiar and the people she loved and loved her were close by.
“B’Elanna?”
Seven’s voice came from directly behind her left shoulder, and B’Elanna started so hard, she lost the spanner she had been using, the instrument dropping from her hand to clatter loudly onto the top of the console and then skittering across its surface before falling onto the deck.
“Damn it, Seven, don’t do that!” Sourly, she bent over and picked up the wayward tool, peering up into Seven’s quizzical expression.
“Do what?”
“Sneak up on me like that.”
“I had not realized that was the case,” Seven said evenly. “I will endeavor to make my presence felt in a more apparent fashion in the future. Perhaps with a pre-emptive announcement on your communicator.”
“Now you’re just humoring me,” B’Elanna grumbled as she resumed her task.
“Yes,” Seven allowed agreeably. She peered curiously down at the readings streaming past on the small screen of a padd. “Are you attempting to realign the plasma flow?”
“Yeah, it’s been out of whack the last few days. I had Ensign Darius look at it, but he can’t seem to bring it back online.”
“Interesting.” Seven’s ocular implant lifted as she began to input data. Within seconds, the plasma flow was aligned. B’Elanna thought she looked entirely too smug as she glanced up. “It is repaired. I simply adjusted the variance output.”
“Uh huh,” B’Elanna said, unimpressed. “Do you think my people are so stupid, Seven, that they wouldn’t have tried that immediately?”
She had perplexed her, she saw, and grinned when Seven glanced down, her expression altering as she saw that the plasma flow had once again diverged from its normal path. “My apologies, B’Elanna. I am guilty of making unwarranted assumptions.”
“No kidding,” B’Elanna mumbled before turning her attention back to the data streaming across the screen. “Seriously, ‘Nik, I can’t figure this out at all. I’ve backtracked this all the way back to the transwarp manifold and I don’t know what’s pulling the flow offline.” She paused. “Why don’t you go over what I did and see if I missed something.”
Frowning, Seven began to scan the data, the two falling into an easy rhythm as they worked together as they had so many times before. B’Elanna was mindful of how much she had missed this since their time together on Voyager. Of course, she missed a lot of things since becoming a mother, like sleep and eating a meal that didn’t require cleaning up in the middle of it and making love with her wife.
Kahless, how she missed making love with Ro. But with their schedules and the pervading weariness that lingered any time they did manage together, lovemaking was last on the list.
“So, what’s new, Seven? Anything going on I should know about?”
The smallest of grins quirked the corner of Seven’s full mouth. “It is unusual that you would rely on me for gossip.”
“Are you kidding? I’m the last to know anything, now. I swear, Seven, nothing brings a halt to old habits quicker than having a kid.”
“Indeed.” Seven lifted her head to look at her directly. “Do you find the process that unrewarding?”
B’Elanna, taken aback by the comment, went over what she just said, conscious of Seven’s sometimes literal take on things, particularly on her inflection, which had been disgruntled and generally grouchy. She resisted the urge to sigh.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t give up Miral for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Seven looked puzzled, but also not inclined to pursue it, which was completely out of character for her. B’Elanna was immediately concerned. “What’s going on with you?”
“B’Elanna?”
“Come on, I know when something’s bothering you.” B’Elanna nudged her with her shoulder.
“Nothing is bothering me.”
That was such a blatant falsehood that B’Elanna stopped what she was doing and just stared at her. Seven glanced over at her, hesitated, and then with a bit of a resigned expression, shook her head a little.
“I cannot say something is ‘bothering me’ when I cannot determine that anything is.”
B’Elanna needed a second to work through that. “You mean, you feel off but you don’t know why or what’s causing it.”
“Precisely. I am … uncomfortable. I complete tasks, and there is no sense of satisfaction. I did not require such when I was Borg, but I find I do now. Occasionally, I am on duty and wish to be off duty, yet when I am off duty, I wish to be working. When I am with Kathryn…” She faltered and looked truly distressed for the first time. B’Elanna felt a real twinge of alarm.
“When you are with Kathryn?!?” she prompted.
Seven shook her head. “I do not know,” she whispered. “Sometimes…sometimes I do not wish to be. I have never felt that before.”
B’Elanna exhaled slowly. This had to be handled very carefully, she knew. Deliberately, she let out a laugh. “Hell, I know that feeling, Seven. Some days I wish Laren was on another ship altogether and I’m sure she often wishes the same thing of me.”
Shocked, Seven stared at her and B’Elanna shrugged lightly. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love her or that she doesn’t love me, or that the feelings aren’t only in the moment.”
“But…” Seven paused, clearly searching for words that she did not have. “I am not angry with Kathryn,” she said finally. “I am very happy with her.” Her tone sounded a trifle helpless.
“I’m not angry with Ro, either. Most of the time, I like being with her. That’s why I married her, after all.” B’Elanna reached over and put her hand on Seven’s shoulder. “Look, we’re all individuals, and granted, that’s coming much later to you than most people. But, occasionally, we just need some ‘me’ time, and it’s hard to take it because we have so many others making demands on us. You have that harder than most. Come on, you don’t just live with your wife, Seven, you live with the captain, and you live her Starfleet life. Yeah, you chose it, but you chose it because the only other life you know is being Borg. Maybe you’re finally at a stage where you’re looking around and wanting something unique, something that’s just for you.”
“Then, a child may be the answer?” Seven offered uncertainly.
“Oh, God, no. A child isn’t for you, a child is for the child and for the family. Having a kid to have something that’s ‘yours’ is the worst kind of ownership. Plus, you’re bound to be disappointed, not to mention the fact that you’re now stuck for life.”
“I was under the impression that a child matures and evolves beyond the parent.”
“Oh, you’ll always be the kid’s mom, no matter how old or how far away he or she gets. Like I said, you’re in it forever. No, I’m talking about something that makes you feel that you matter beyond just your family and friends.”
“Are family and friends not all that truly matter?”
“Maybe in a perfect universe,” B’Elanna admitted. “But honestly, Seven, you’re the sort of person that can do things that matter beyond your lifetime, the same as the captain. Janeway’s done great things, and she’ll continue to do great things. They’ll be talking about her accomplishments in the Academy for centuries after she’s gone. She’ll have a legacy beyond her children, and her children’s children.”
She had lost Seven at that point, she saw and sighed. “I’m just saying that you have the talent to be something beyond Lt. Annika Hansen, Millennium’s chief science officer. Maybe you’re just starting to realize that.”
Seven was silent for a long moment. “I will … consider your words.”
“You do that. Just don’t let it drive you crazy, which is exactly what you’re doing right now, which is why you’re feeling ‘off’. Just relax, and you’ll figure it out in its own time. You don’t have to figure it out today or even tomorrow. Let life come to you.”
Seven eyed her. “Perhaps you should apply for the ship’s counselor position.”
B’Elanna laughed. “Maybe. At least then, the captain wouldn’t have a problem with it. Except when I used my bat’leth to settle grievances.” She paused. “What’s the story there, anyway?”
“Ro did not tell you?”
“Ro knows?” B’Elanna was outraged.
“Ro always knows.” Seven sounded particularly wise at that point and B’Elanna had to laugh again.
“Yeah, she does. So, what happened?”
“A misunderstanding between Kathryn and Counselor Stone. It has apparently been resolved.”
“Ah. So why don’t you go see the counselor about all this?”
“Kathryn suggested that as well.” Seven studied her panel display, but B’Elanna did not think she was seeing it. “She knows I am unhappy. How can I tell her that the reason is that I do not wish to be with her, or live her life?”
“Oh, my God, that is NOT what I said. Or what is happening here.” B’Elanna started to sweat. Maybe she wasn’t so good at this counselor stuff at all. “I just think you need a little more in your life, and I think the captain knows that too. She’s just waiting on you to figure it out and she’ll support you while you do. Don’t make it an ‘either/or’ situation, like you always do. Live in the grey, Seven.”
“I do not know what that means.”
“It means, life isn’t black and white, it’s all shades of grey in between. Embrace the grey and I bet you’ll find you can have everything you want. I do.”
“Even when you do not have sleep?”
“Even then,” B’Elanna said. She thought about it, feeling a sense of contentment steal over her for the first time in a long time. Or perhaps, she was merely letting that sense rise to the surface once more. “You know, I really do love my life. I just forgot that for a little while. Thanks for reminding me, Seven.”
“You are welcome.”
“Is that why you came down here? Looking for marriage advice? From me?”
“I agree, it does sound illogical when you put it that way.” There was a lightness to Seven’s eyes that had not been there before, a humorous lilt to her tone and B’Elanna relaxed a little. “No, it is because of the Changeling and the fact that I can penetrate the deception of her altered form.” Seven recounted what had happened the previous week and B’Elanna realized she really was out of the loop. She probably needed to work on that a little.
“So the captain wants some kind of device that can tell whether she’s dealing with a Changeling or not. All the best scientists in the Federation couldn’t come up with a solution to that problem during the entire Dominion War,” B’Elanna pointed out. She felt a tingle, the same mix of fear, elation and anticipation that an impossible challenge always inspired in her. A silent growl rippled up from her chest that she did not give voice to. It was enough to know she would accept and conquer the obstacle being laid before her.
“They did not have the same access to Borg technology that you and I do,” Seven pointed out helpfully.
“Nor your brain,” B’Elanna agreed.
“Or yours. Together, we can do … unique things.”
“That we have. And will again.”
“Perhaps that is all the ‘legacy’ I require.” Seven said wistfully.
“Maybe. But I bet your legacy will be something that no one would ever anticipate, ‘Nik. That’s why it’ll be yours and yours alone.” B’Elanna slapped her resoundingly on the back, her palm stinging as it encountered one of Seven’s implants.
“Let’s get to it, shall we?”
Entering her quarters, Seven discovered them quiet and still. She and B’Elanna had worked on adjustments to the internal sensors until the end of the shift, carrying Seven late into the evening. Janeway was undoubtedly already in bed and asleep, with Jake tucked away out in the arboretum Taking a seat in the chair, Seven crossed her arms over her chest and contemplatively stared out at the stars through the viewport, distorted by the warp bubble into streaks of light against the black backdrop. Her conversation with B’Elanna continued to worry at her mind, leaving her unsure and unhappy.
So preoccupied was she, she was unaware of the bedroom door opening or the diminutive figure of her spouse joining her until Kathryn was immediately behind her. She started abruptly when she felt Janeway’s hand on her shoulder, looking up into concerned grey eyes.
“Now I know something’s wrong,” Janeway murmured as she perched on the arm of the chair, looking down at Seven. “I shouldn’t ever be able to sneak up on you.” She reached out and drew her knuckles down Seven’s cheek. “Talk to me.”
“I do not know what to say, Kathryn,” Seven said sadly. “I do not know why I feel as I do.”
“Then tell me what you feel,” Janeway told her. “Describe your feelings.” Seven hesitated and Janeway slipped her palm around Seven’s head, cupping the base of her skull firmly. “Nothing you can say will ever change how I feel for you, how much I love you. Trust in that. Trust in us, darling.”
Reluctantly, Seven recounted her discussion with B’Elanna. Aside from a slight tightening around the eyes at various points, Janeway did not alter her warm and compassionate expression. “I am sorry, Kathryn,” she concluded in misery. “I do not understand these feelings. I love you and want to be with you.”
“Of course, you do, sweetheart,” Janeway assured her. “But this is completely normal. We’ve been together almost a decade, after all, not just living in the same quarters, but working on the same ship on the same alpha shift. That’s a lot of togetherness” She paused, searching for words. “Think of it this way. Marriage is like a garden. We've spent the time planting all the seeds and now it's time to harvest what we've grown and make a meal of it. But we don't always like the same food, darling. I like escargot, and you find it disgusting. That doesn't mean I should stop eating it, or you should start. It's a matter of taste.”
Seven stared at her, feeling disgruntled. “I do not do well with metaphors, Kathryn.”
Janeway laughed. “I know. What I’m trying to say is the same thing B’Elanna was trying to explain. You’re starting to look for new recipes, not because you’re unhappy with the menu we have, but because you feel secure and comfortable enough to expand on it, to combine new flavors on your own, without needing my input. Starfleet does have its constraints, after all. You’re just starting to feel them more. Perhaps it’s time to spread your wings outside those limitations.”
“I thought that was what our initial time on Earth was for. Yet, at the end, I found myself feeling fragmented and wishing only to be on a ship serving with you again.” Seven rubbed her temple fretfully, feeling the stress tighten the muscles around her implant.
“Perhaps you weren’t ready for it then. Earth was new and a big enough challenge on its own.” Janeway stroked Seven’s hair lightly. “You’ve come so far from the Borg drone you once were, my love. Don’t be afraid to grow, even if it takes you away from me for a while.”
“I do not know how to grow in such a fashion.”
“No one does at first. It’s something you learn along the way.”
“This is not very helpful, Kathryn.” Seven discovered she was rubbing the tips of her metal covered fingertips together, creating a high-pitched rasp that only she could hear. With an effort, she forced herself to stop.
Janeway leaned down and kissed her lightly. “Okay, then know this. I’m here and that’s not going to change. I love you with all my heart, enough to let you go and enough to welcome you back in whatever you do. Your instincts know that even if your intellect doesn’t.”
“But it hurt you so much when we separated.”
“That was different from what you’re describing now,” Janeway responded evenly. “You were trying to hurt me, and in a way, yourself in that instance. This, though, has nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with evolution. And even if it does hurt a little bit at times because I miss you or you miss me, that’s part of the process.”
Seven shook her head. “I do not know that I agree with any of this.”
Janeway considered that, her head dipping a little as she regarded Seven gravely. “You could be right,” she said finally. “We could be over-thinking it. We could be completely off base. Maybe you’re just in a bad mood because you’re in a bad mood. God knows, I’ve had plenty of them.” She hesitated and drew her fingers along Seven’s jaw. “But I also know that no matter how well things have gone for us the past few months, or how many joyful experiences we’ve had, you simply haven’t been the same since our encounter with the Guardian of Forever.”
“No, I have not,” Seven admitted, almost with a sense of relief, though she was unsure from where the emotion sprang. “I have not felt like myself since then.”
“It was an extremely difficult experience.” Janeway’s fingers were warm as they stroked along Seven’s hairline, tracing over her ocular implant, soothing the skin around it.
“It was.” Seven leaned sideways, nestling her head on Janeway’s chest. “But we have experienced many similar difficulties. I do not know why this one remains with me.”
Janeway wrapped her arms around Seven, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know, either, love. But of those many adventures that we came through without significant lasting effects, it only makes sense that eventually, we’d encounter something that would stick with one of us beyond the normal recovery period. That’s why TSS is recognized as an official condition by Starfleet Medical.”
“TSS?”
“Traumatic Stress Syndrome,” Janeway explained. “As much as this is our life, and we embrace the adventure of it, a great deal of it can be traumatic. Encountering the Guardian of Forever was particularly traumatic. For both of us.”
“Yet you do not seem affected,” Seven said with some disgruntlement. “As a human, you should be far more affected than I. I am Borg.”
“I’m also Starfleet, trained to deal with such things,” Janeway offered dryly, taking no offense at the comment. “I doubt the Collective educated its drones to recognize, understand, and deal with post-traumatic stress.”
Seven sat in silence for some time, turning over her words. “I am flawed,” she concluded finally.
Janeway laughed quietly. “Oh, darling, we all are.” Hugging her gently, she nuzzled the Seven’s hair, surrounding her with support and love. “You don’t have to deal with this alone. I’m here and so are so many others.”
“You are referring to Counselor Stone,” Seven said flatly. “I have already agreed to investigate her.”
Janeway drew back so that she could consider Seven’s eyes. Her gaze was serious, shaded dark grey. “No,” she said firmly. “Just for you. Forget what I’ve asked you regarding the Changeling and the counselor. I know you agreed to give me your opinion but that was unfair. I want you to take care of yourself right now. I’ll look after anything else.” She exhaled, lowering her eyes. “I’m sorry, love. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been asking of you over and above your position as my science officer and my spouse. Not much wonder you’ve been feeling trapped.”
“I do not feel trapped,” Seven protested immediately, before looking away as her innate honesty forced her to add, “Perhaps pressured.” Reluctantly, she glanced back at Janeway through lowered lashes. “Slightly.”
“Well, no more. I won’t ask anything of you that isn’t in your job description.”
“But…”
Janeway tilted her head. “But what?”
“I enjoy being involved in your…” Seven trailed off as she searched for the proper term. “Schemes,” she concluded finally, though she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the word, feeling it inadequate for the complicated nature of Janeway’s thought processes.
“Schemes?” Janeway’s eyebrows lifted.
“You have a better designation?”
“I prefer to think of them as ‘tactical maneuverings’,” Janeway offered, a bit smugly.
“Ah.” Seven decided that was an acceptable alternative. Considering the topic exhausted for the moment, she abruptly altered her tone. “B’Elanna and I spent the evening adapting the ships sensors to transmit the specific Borg parameters to tricorders used on the ship. Now, it requires a testing phase.”
Janeway blinked, hesitated for a few seconds, and then gamely caught up. “Oh, all right. How do you plan to test it?”
“When I speak with the Changeling, I will encourage her to alter shape and then take a reading.”
“Subtle.”
Seven glanced up at her. “Is it required I be subtle? I was under the impression you wished her to know we had ways of detecting her presence.”
“I suppose it won’t hurt to know we’re ready for her. Though I suspect that will prevent any further friendliness on her part toward you.”
“On the contrary, Kathryn, I believe she will appreciate the transparency of it.”
“Why, when their entire culture is based on deception and obfuscation? Even when they’re merely communicating with other species, it’s required that they alter shape into something humanoid, or at least, something with vocal cords.”
Seven was stymied by that and Janeway smiled, leaning down to kiss her once more. “Proceed as you feel best, my darling. Your instincts are generally quite good. They should be in this case, as well.”
Seven glanced at her once, decided she was being sincere and once more nestled her head against Janeway’s chest, sighing inaudibly. Janeway hugged her again and for a few minutes, they snuggled in contemplative silence.
“I am happy that I am married to you, Kathryn,” Seven said softly.
“I’m very happy I’m married to you, too, my love,” Janeway assured her. “Shall we go to bed?”
“Acceptable.”
Inside their bedroom, Janeway took Seven by her arms, looking up at her lovingly. “It will be all right, Annika.”
Seven nodded briefly. “I know, Kathryn.”
She did not, in fact, know that, but the discussion regarding it was exhausted. She didn’t see the point in pursuing it any further. Janeway regarded her a few seconds longer, as if knowing what Seven was thinking, but instead of saying anything, she instead reached for Seven’s uniform, unfastening the tunic and pushing it off Seven’s shoulders.
Seven was content to remain passive, allowing Janeway to undress her as if she were injured or somehow unable to function properly. It felt reassuring as well as arousing, and she closed her eyes, basking in the tenderness being displayed. Janeway kissed her throat, reaching up to kiss Seven’s lips before returning her loving attention to her neck. Seven smiled faintly and tilted her head as she felt the warm caress of Janeway lips and the provocative nibbles of teeth against her skin. Raising her arms, Seven felt her sweater and undergarment be removed, tossed onto a chair in the corner. Hands on Seven’s shoulders, Janeway propelled her down onto the bed, where she knelt to pull off Seven’s boots, trousers and the rest of her undergarments.
Quickly shedding her robe and slippers, Janeway stretched out full length beside Seven, pulling her to her with amorous intent. Her body was warm and full, a safe harbor in Seven’s sea of uncertainty, her hands and mouth constant and comforting in their caresses. And in the end, when the waves of pleasure had finished washing over her, when her delight had slowly eased her back to herself, the warm afterglow in the shelter of Janeway’s embrace left her feeling as if she had been healed somewhat.
Face buried in Janeway’s neck, Seven inhaled her scent, wanting only to remain there forever even as she knew that was impossible. It seemed that what she desired lately seemed impossible, not the least of which was knowing what exactly it was she desired at any given moment. It wasn’t unlike her sense of uncertainty and displacement when she had first been disconnected from the Collective. This time, she had an anchor, at least, in her love for Janeway, and in her relationships with her friends and extended family. She merely wished that knowledge granted her more solace than it did.
For the first time in her conscious knowledge, she found herself missing her mother and wishing to interact with her, though she wasn’t sure where that had come from. Yet another mystery that her current subconscious turmoil tossed up at her, apparently for no other reason than to frustrate and confound her.
“Annika? Love?”
Seven stirred, turning her face slightly to the night. “Yes, Kathryn.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.” Janeway tightened her embrace.
“I know.” She paused. “Why is it taking so long?”
Janeway chuckled, a low reverberation in her chest beneath Seven’s cheek. “It takes as long as it takes. That’s life. And yes, I know that isn’t at all satisfying to you, but that’s how it is. They say that patience is a virtue. Perhaps it’s time to utilize some of it. Or at least, stop worrying about it for the time being and just concentrate on what you can control.”
“Very well.” Seven rubbed her cheek along the soft swell of Janeway’s breasts. “Do you need anything, Kathryn?”
“Only sleep for now, my darling. Anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Seven snuggled closer, feeling drowsiness steal over her. “I trust that you will.”
Janeway found herself staring blankly at the display screen in her ready room, realizing she had been sitting there several minutes without accomplishing anything. Her mind insisted on drifting back to Seven and her current dilemma. Janeway knew there was nothing she could do about it beyond offering support as Seven worked her way through it, but that didn’t keep her from feeling helpless and out of sorts. Certainly not what a starship captain ever enjoyed feeling, but she also should not be allowing it to distract her from her duty. With an effort, she returned her attention to the personnel reports, wishing, not for the first time, that Kes was there, that she could stop by the piano bar on the lower decks and have a drink with her dearest friend after their duty shift, or even have her stop by the ready room for a quick word.
But that would never happen again and Janeway felt the same sharp pain in her chest that she always did when thinking of the Ocampan who had finally succumbed to the end of her natural lifespan. Without her, Janeway had no one to confide in. She hadn’t realized just how much that had meant to her until that refuge was gone for good.
Janeway abruptly made a face. That wasn’t entirely true and deep down she knew it. She just didn’t want to acknowledge it. There were two people on the ship with whom she was not only supposed to share a certain personal leniency, but was actually expected to by her superiors back at Starfleet Command. But while Pulaski had the advantage of years, decades even, of knowing Janeway, first as a cadet, then a science officer and finally as captain of her own starship, the doctor could be terribly condescending when she wanted to be, and she always seemed to take the contrary side, to play devil’s advocate, to always put Janeway in the wrong. That could be hard, especially when it came to her relationship with Seven. It was one thing to talk to her about her command. It was quite another to talk about her marriage. That was too uncomfortable.
As for Stone, well, Janeway didn’t know Stone at all and she certainly didn’t trust her.
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. It occurred to her that this sort of thing never came up when she was on Voyager. Of course, Voyager had been lost in the Delta Quadrant and her options had been severely limited. It had taught her to be self-reliant, to a fault sometimes, and only Seven had kept her from losing herself completely. Now she was older and wiser and becoming entirely too introspective. In fact, she was beginning to worry that if she became any more introspective, her head would be so far up her ass, she’d never find her way out.
Shaking her head, amused by the thought, she forced herself to relax. Stopping by sickbay and visiting Pulaski’s office wouldn’t be the worst idea. With any luck, there’d even be a nice bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer and she could put her feet up for a few moments and forget for a moment that she was in command. It certainly couldn’t hurt.
A soft chime on her console a few minutes later made her look up inquiringly. “Come.” At the appearance of T’Shanik in her office, she tried not to wince. She'd completely forgotten her scheduled session with her command cadet and had absolutely nothing prepared. Well, she decided, when it doubt, take a tour of the ship. Always worked with Ro.
“Excellent, you’re right on time,” she said, as if she’d been expecting her all along. Rising to her feet, she crooked her finger. “With me.”
Without so much as a questioning lift of her brow, T’Shanik immediately fell into step with Janeway as the two women swept out of the ready room and across the bridge to the turbolift. Her eyebrow did rise slightly when the captain requested the very lowest level of the ship, but again, T’Shanik said nothing, merely waiting patiently for Janeway to speak first and explain what they were doing.
“It is important for a captain to know her ship inside and out,” Janeway said finally as the turbolift descended and accelerated along the outer line of the hull. “If you’re fortunate, as I was with both Voyager and Millennium, you’ll have the opportunity to see her while she’s being built, to be there from the ground up, as it were. Ideally, you should become so intimately connected with her, you’ll know immediately from sheer instinct if something is wrong with her, if she’s feeling off or there’s a deviation in the way she’s flying.”
“’Her’ being the ship, you mean?” T’Shanik eyed her skeptically. “With all due respect, Captain, it is apparent you are ascribing sentient traits to an inanimate object.”
Oh, yes, working with a Vulcan. I need to remember that, Janeway told herself sardonically. “I am, because I believe over the course of a mission, a ship actually becomes an organism, a living thing combining vessel and crew. And if each looks after the other, then they’ll both make it through successfully.”
Now she had just confounded her, Janeway decided, judging from the shifting expression in the dark eyes, only T’Shanik was not about to argue with her commanding officer. She swallowed back a smile and led the way to a small auxiliary room filled with various containers. After entering her command code on the pad beside the door, they went inside and she turned to T’Shanik as they stood in the center. Lifting her hands, she made a gesture that encompassing the room. “Where are we?”
T’Shanik hesitated. “At the bottom of the ship in a storage room.” Though there was a slight rise to her tone at the end that almost, but not quite, made it a question, indicating that either she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, or that she didn’t quite know what Janeway was asking.
“What’s stored here?”
T’Shanik glanced over at the nearest container, reading the label, brow lifting as she realized it contained methanogenic compound used in the replicator system. Another swift glance at the ceiling, evaluating, before returning her gaze to the captain.
Heavens, she was quick, Janeway thought. “Why is it stored here?”
“So that if there is a critical failure, the double reinforced hull above us will force any explosion out into space, rather than allowing any of it to penetrate the hull proper.”
“Exactly.”
“But that is how it was engineered to be by Starfleet. It is a mechanical design to have such volatile substances stored in the least vulnerable part of the vessel.”
“Yes, but did you know that it was stored here, let alone why?”
“No, I did not.”
Janeway nodded. “So now you have your first homework assignment. Know this ship, inside and out. Be aware of any unexpected discoveries, and then ask yourself, why were you surprised at such a discovery?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Can you access the ship’s computer here without your padd or communicator?”
Again, T’Shanik glanced around and Janeway held up her hand. “No, you should have done that the very first second we walked into this room. I shouldn’t have to point out what was in this room, how to access the computer from it or why it’s located here. It’s a matter of command awareness, Lieutenant. Any vessel, any situation you walk into, you should be assessing it all as a commander would. You need to think about how you would take command if things go sideways, and you must be able to do it without hesitation. It is the most basic of lessons. Take the lead, and others will naturally follow, but to do that competently, you need to be aware of your surroundings. You can’t take the lead blindly, you must know what you’re doing and why. And after a while, it won’t be a learned reaction, it will be instinctive.”
“I understand, Captain.”
“Good. Now, take me to where other rooms like this should be logically located on this vessel. Without your padd, because you’re not always going to have access to one. And before you do, ask yourself, why don’t you know where they are already?”
T’Shanik frowned slightly. “Because it was not within the parameters of my duties to know.” She paused, and then elaborated, her eyes lighting up. “But as a commanding officer, as someone who someday wishes to command my own vessel, then everything should be within my parameters, even if I do not have to use that knowledge in the immediate future.”
“Exactly, it’s not enough to simply want to be in command. You must need to be in command. For some people, it comes naturally. They take in a situation without really acknowledging why and prepare themselves. It might be more difficult for you because you’ve been trained from birth not to rely on instinct but on logic. However, a good captain instinctively knows what to do, and even if she doesn’t, everyone else will think she does because she acts as if she does.”
“And if she is wrong in that instance?”
“Oh, that will happen,” Janeway said readily. “No one’s perfect. Mistakes are made. As captain, you acknowledge them, do what you can to repair them if possible, and then move on, because there’s always another decision to be made, another responsibility to be fulfilled, another duty to honor. Being in command is more than a full-time job, it’s a way of life. The real question is, is that what you really want? Because it is not an easy path. It’s damned difficult, as a matter of fact.”
“Then why?”
“Because it comes back to need rather than want. Note that I’m not saying it’s a need for power. That’s totally different, even if it seems to be a fine line, at times. It’s a need to be responsible, both for yourself and for others under your command. And such responsibility is a heavy burden to carry. You should need to carry such a burden, or you shouldn’t want to command.” She smiled as she watched the changes in T’Shanik’s expression, as slight as they were. “Any Vulcan can make a logical decision,” she added gently. “But not every Vulcan can make the proper decision when needed, especially if it seems an illogical one at the time.”
“How will I know?”
“By starting now,” Janeway said. “By wanting to take command and preparing to do so, even if that opportunity doesn’t arrive for a long time. After a while, you’ll figure out if that want is a need, and if you’ll have it for a lifetime.”
“No one is a starship captain for life, unless they die in the chair.”
“On the contrary, once a starship captain, always a starship captain, even if the rank and situation doesn’t agree. There are admirals in Starfleet who’ve commanded vessels, but were never really starship captains, and there are admirals who will never stop being starship captains at heart, no matter how far away they’ve been taken from their ships.”
T’Shanik seemed to consider that for a long moment. “Yes,” she said finally. “I believe I have such evidence of that within my own family.”
Conscious of who she was speaking of, a captain and admiral respectively, Janeway agreed with her. Her brother, Solok, in command of the USS T’Kumbra, was a competent but not great captain, while her sister, Admiral Sitak, would always make decisions as if still on the bridge of the USS Endeavor even though she was in charge of Starfleet’s Planetary Command Division. Not to mention that she’d give that up in a heartbeat to take Nechayev’s position, Starfleet’s Space Command, as illogical as that desire was.
“So, you follow in your sister’s footsteps rather than his,” Janeway offered conversationally as they returned to the turbolift. “I know it can be difficult coming from a ‘Fleet family. My father was an admiral and it always felt as if I were trying to live up to an impossible ideal.”
If T’Shanik was surprised at the captain’s revelation, she did not alter expression. Instead, she commanded the ship’s computer to take them forward and starboard to where she believed another storage locker would be located. “It was not difficult to be from a family with members serving in Starfleet. It was difficult because they believed me incapable of doing the same.”
“Really?” Janeway glanced sideways at her. “That’s hard to believe. You’re one of the more competent officers I’ve had so fresh out of the Academy. I wouldn’t have made you my command candidate otherwise.”
She had pleased T’Shanik, she saw, a glow lighting those dark eyes. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Just stating a fact.” Janeway was intensely curious now. She had been put under pressure various times by both Captain Solok and Admiral Sitak to transfer T’Shanik over to the T’Kumbra. She had believed it was because they knew what a jewel she had in her ops officer, but now she was realizing that was an incorrect assumption. “How could they be so blind?”
“My brother and sister are much older than I, Captain,” T’Shanik revealed after a few moments, her tone reluctant. This was clearly very personal, but that was what Janeway was trying to dig out, all the better to know her crewman. “I was born late to my parents, nor was I completely healthy as a child.”
Ah, Janeway thought, a final pon farr baby, one that the Vulcans in question had not expected and were surprised by since they had gone so long without any response to their ‘time of mating’. Not only were such babies a shock to the system, Vulcans sometimes reacted to them in unexpected ways. In this case, a sickly baby had produced a sense of over-protectiveness in the family. Not much wonder T’Shanik chafed against it. “Well, I can only deal with the person you are, not who you may or may not have been in the past.”
“Yes, Captain.” The words were simple, but there was the slightest inflection that let Janeway know that T’Shanik was truly touched by her comment. There were advantages to having served with Tuvok for so long. She had learned to read signs that others wouldn’t notice.
Smiling faintly as she followed T’Shanik down the corridor to their destination, Janeway decided her current project was turning out very well indeed.
Sydney Stone regarded the young woman across her desk with equal parts trepidation and acute curiosity. She had read her file after receiving the early morning appointment request, and had previously seen her before across various rooms and on the bridge, but she had not been in close proximity with her for any length of time. Now Lt. Hansen was close enough to touch and it was all Stone could do to maintain a perfectly calm and professional demeanor.
The woman was absolutely, positively, astonishingly drop dead gorgeous, in a way that drew one’s attention like a moth to a flame, helpless and hopeless before that intoxicating shimmer of light. Tall, blonde and radiating an aura that was equal parts alluring and forbidding, the silvery implants merely enhanced her icy Nordic beauty, while the uniform did little to disguise a lush and intriguing form. Sometimes in life, one was just blindsided by sheer animal magnetism and Stone thanked all the gods Lt. Hansen was married, and to the captain, no less, or Stone might have found herself in real honest-to-goodness unprofessional trouble.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat with a bit of difficulty, “This is our first session and I think we should take the time to get to know each other a little before we begin anything in depth.”
“Indeed.” Lt. Hansen’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “Is that possible?”
“How do you mean?”
“It is your job to know me as intimately as necessary to complete a full psychological profile.” Her words were calm and logical, Vulcan, yet not, as an intriguing lilt underlay the tone, hinting at warmth hidden deep within. “Yet, it will not be possible for me to know you with any true insight. That is the nature of this professional interaction, one-sided and inequitable.”
Straight to the throat, Stone thought, swallowing hard. “It is,” she agreed. “Does that bother you, Lieutenant?”
“It does not. Still, a certain trust is required for this to result in any kind of beneficial outcome.”
Hansen’s eyes abruptly scanned Stone from head to toe, not in any kind of lascivious way, or even in a particularly warm fashion, but rather as one would observe a specimen in a jar. Suddenly she was considerably less attractive, especially since Stone felt it was an observation that went beyond a mere visual pass and for all she knew, perhaps it did, considering the optical implant curving over Hansen’s left eye. It made the hairs on her arm stand up and prickle. Carefully, she maintained both facial expression and the even tone of her voice.
“You don’t trust me?”
“I do not,” Hansen said simply. “It takes time for me to trust, and how can that happen when I shall never be allowed to know you as you are expected to know me?”
“That does pose a dilemma.” Stone allowed. “How can we solve it?”
“Unknown.”
“Yet, from your file,” Stone continued gamely, “I determined that you and my predecessor shared a long and valuable connection, so clearly you have experience in such one-sided relationships.”
“I did trust Kes.”
“How was that developed?”
Hansen paused, her gaze growing slightly distant as she considered it. Stone was fascinated. Even as the woman appeared so reserved as to be inscrutable, there were hints in her expression that, Stone was sure with enough familiarity and study, would make Hansen as easy to read as a book.
“It was a logical outcome to the situation,” Hansen explained finally. “Necessity bred of isolation. She was the only logical recourse when I felt the need for such evaluation.”
“In the Delta Quadrant,” Stone said, recalling the details from her file. “That was where you were found by Voyager.”
“When Voyager assimilated me, yes.”
Stone blinked, detecting the slightest hint of a curve to Seven's full lips. Was that a joke? Had this woman actually quipped about what had to have been the most traumatic of experiences? Stone, unfortunately, had no experience with victims of the Borg, and what she did know came from a hasty perusal of clinical papers she had dug up from the database after Hansen had made her appointment.
This whole thing was disconcerting, not just the unexpected request for a session and Stone’s unforeseen, unwanted physical response to Hansen, but there was also the fact that Stone hadn’t expected to deal with any of the senior staff so early in the mission. For that matter, she had expected the entire alpha bridge crew to reflect the views of their captain and would need to be dragged kicking and screaming into any mandatory evaluation that might occasionally be needed on deep space missions. She had not thought any of them would voluntarily make an appointment and seek her out. It just didn’t work that way on starships. The lower decks, yes, they always needed someone to talk to, but the senior staff were generally far more self-reliant, especially after coming off a six-month shore leave. Stone wondered what it all meant and how she would even begin to figure it out.
“And Sek was my friend, long before Kes became my counselor,” Hansen added suddenly. “My trust in the former eventually allowed me to accept the latter.”
It was only because she had read her predecessor’s file that Stone was able to understand what Hansen was talking about. Trying to keep her cadence as scientific as possible, sensing this would make Hansen more comfortable, Stone offered an alternate point of view, “Of course, the point of counselor/patient interaction is to speak with someone who is not your friend in the strictest sense of the word, but rather, can be objective and will approach any difficult situation from a position of professionalism.”
Hansen dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I accept that premise.”
“So perhaps, in time, you could learn to trust me on that basis.”
“Perhaps.”
“What can I do to begin that process, Annika?”
Hansen stiffened and frost suddenly edged the mild tone. “By referring to me by my designation as Seven of Nine, or if you prefer, the abbreviated address, Seven. Lt. Hansen is acceptable if you do not know me as anything more than a fellow Starfleet officer. I think that by definition of this interaction, that should be bypassed.”
Stone forced herself not to react. “Of course,” she said graciously. “My apologies, Seven.”
“None are required. It was merely a point of clarification.”
Stone thought Seven’s pointed clarification was a whole lot more than that, but perhaps Seven wasn’t aware of the significance of how one chose to identify one’s self.
“So, Seven,” Stone began again after a short pause, “Is there a particular reason you’ve initiated this session?”
“Yes.”
Another pause, slightly longer. “And that reason?”
Stone suddenly wondered if Seven was being deliberately obtuse, or if she was, in fact, putting her on in some way. Then she saw the ghost of pain cross those brilliant eyes and knew there was nothing deceptive or the least bit amusing about it. Steeling herself to patience, her greatest strength, she waited, belatedly realizing the hesitation came from Seven struggling to form a proper response.
“I have been unlike myself since the beginning of this mission,” she admitted finally, and with an uncertainty that clearly made her uncomfortable. “Indeed, before that, since an incident that occurred during my leave.”
“What incident?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“Why not, Seven?” Stone said with infinite gentleness. “Was it so very difficult?”
“It was difficult, but that is not the reason I am unable to refer to the events that took place.”
“Why not?”
“It is classified.”
“Oh, no, Seven, you don’t have to worry about that,” Stone was quick to assure her, brushing aside the perceived problem. “Everything in this office is completely confidential and as far as classified material related to Starfleet is concerned, I have security clearance equivalent to that of an admiral. You can tell me anything.”
Seven regarded her gravely. “I am sorry, Dr. Stone, you do not understand.” And as Stone was about to pursue it, Seven held up her hand, stopping her before she could utter any further protest. “I am not saying this because I am unaware of the security clearance of ship’s counselors. I am saying it because it is true. You do not possess the necessary clearance to be advised of the incident in question.”
With an effort, Stone relaxed back into her seat, furiously thinking that over. “That could make it somewhat difficult to determine the root cause of your unease, Seven.”
“I am fully aware of that.” Seven paused, a flicker of unhappiness touching her features. “Perhaps this has been a waste of time.”
“No,” Stone interjected firmly. “Not at all. I accept that you believe yourself confined by certain limitations. We’ll find a way to work around it, I promise.”
Seven hesitated, and then nodded. “Very well. I will tell you what I can.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Stone leaned back in her chair, making her body language as relaxed as possible, inviting her confidence.
There was another pause, one that stretched on for several minutes, and Stone could see by the progression in Seven’s face, the analyzing of the data and the discarding of what could not be revealed, that it didn’t look promising. By the end, all Seven looked was sad and defeated.
“I do not know how to relate what I am feeling without discussing what happened. I have failed.”
Stone reached out and put a comforting hand on Seven’s forearm. “I understand,” she said, making her voice as soothing and reassuring as possible. “We’ll figure this out, Seven. We just need a little time. Let’s schedule another session in a couple of days while I try to come up with a course of action. Will that be all right?”
“That is acceptable.”
After Seven had left and Stone was alone, she went over Seven’s file in more detail, disappointed to realize that there had been no recent appointments between her and Counselor Kes. What was there contained a detailed account of Seven since her rescue from the Borg, through the various years on Voyager, the later years back on Earth, and finally, that first year on Millennium. It was a history of abandonment, those terrible years of being assimilated along with a wealth of astonishing recovery and growth as Seven learned to be human again. It also, by proxy, gave Stone insight into Kathryn Janeway through Seven’s eyes. It made Stone wince again as she realized how horribly she had botched that initial meeting with the captain, wishing she had read Seven’s file prior to that encounter. At least then she would have had some sense of what she was dealing with and wouldn’t have made such a colossal fool of herself.
So, who should she talk to circumvent this restriction Seven had placed on herself? She didn’t think it should be the captain. Stone knew that whatever the incident was, it was very likely that Janeway had also been involved. And while she had detected a certain disregard for the rules when it came to Seven’s safety as far as Janeway was concerned, was that something she should exploit? Pushing the captain into revealing details of a classified mission that clearly had a level of security rising to the very top of Starfleet Command wouldn’t necessarily put her on Janeway’s good side.
That left Tuvok. He was the first officer, yes, but more than that, if the whisper of rumor she’d heard before leaving Earth was in any way accurate. He was Starfleet Intelligence, undoubtedly sent along because of the presence of Dominion on the ship. While he might not know any more than she did, it might be safer to broach it with him first. He might then be able to speak with the captain and get farther than she would, as well as keep it within proper security parameters.
She logged off her work station and headed for deck two, where Tuvok’s office was located. After being admitted, she took a seat opposite his desk, regarding him steadily. Despite having Vulcan in her lineage, she wasn’t completely comfortable while dealing with them. Perhaps because she was three generations away and all the rest of her DNA was Human with a dash of Romulan and Bajoran. She did not hold logic up as any standard she wanted to reach, finding great value in the emotions and feelings Vulcans disdained. Because of that, she always felt frustrated and intimidated by her grandmother’s people, as if they were judging her in some incomprehensible manner even if they weren’t.
“How may I be of assistance, Counselor?” His dark eyes assessed her dispassionately, set in strong, dark-skinned features, free of age lines, though she knew he was older than her mother, having served with Captain Sulu as an ensign.
“I have a problem with a patient,” she explained, keeping her tone as even as possible. “Apparently there was an incident that’s resulted in a lingering impact, but we can’t speak of it because the incident is classified.”
An eyebrow lifted. “It is my understanding that, within the parameters of your duties, you have great latitude when it comes to classified matters.”
“I do, but apparently, in this instance, not enough latitude.”
“I see.” He was silent for a moment. “What do you think I can do about it?”
“Either grant permission for me to extend my latitude, or secure permission from the captain for me to do so.”
“Who is the patient?”
Stone shook her head. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
His eyes narrowed briefly, but he nodded. “I understand. Logically, there are a limited amount of personnel that would be involved in such an incident. I will discuss it with the captain.”
“Thank you,” Stone said, with honest gratitude. “That will make things easier.”
“I may not be able to secure such authorization.”
Stone sighed. “I hope you can, Mr. Tuvok. Because it could prove most unfortunate, otherwise.”
Seven felt worse after her counseling session than she had before going in, which was not how it was supposed to work. It was the first time it had ever happened to her and she wondered if she had exhausted the usefulness of such activity. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what else to do to reverse this constant sense of being less than optimal. As she scanned through the data the ship’s sensors were drawing in from the nebula, she tried to push it aside, to place it in a part of her mind that would not affect her work. Her spouse was much better at it, she knew, but perhaps it was time that she too, learned to ‘juggle’.
“Seven, you need to look at this.”
Shaking herself from her lethargy, Seven quickly moved over to where Lenara Kahn was working diligently at her station, peering over her shoulder at the screen. She felt her eyebrows lift as she took what the readings signified.
“Is this confirmed?”
“I can’t think of what else it would be,” Lenara said with a definite note of excitement lacing her tone. Tall and willowy, with a pattern of spots that traced from her temple down to her neck where they disappeared beneath the collar of her lab coat, the joined Trill touched the display before her. “The formation of an ion storm is something no Federation scientist has ever witnessed. At best, only a few random ships have seen it and none of those accounts have been particularly detailed. This is a chance of a lifetime, Seven.”
“And one I fear the rest of the crew will not view with anticipation,” Seven agreed.
Flashing a smile, Lenara glanced at her. “Was that a joke, Seven?”
Seven considered it. “No,” she decided. “I was being serious. Why is it amusing?”
“I guess it’s not.” Lenara swiped more data onto the display hovering over the console. “How much time do you think we have before the captain warps us out of here?”
“Unknown.”
“Bridge to Lt. Hansen.”
Lenara made a face, part disappointment and aggravation. “Not much at all, apparently.”
“Commander Ro is, by nature, very alert to possible threats to the ship,” Seven reminded her. She touched her comm badge. “Go ahead, Commander.”
Ro sounded the tiniest bit perturbed. “We’re picking up some wildly fluctuating readings up here.”
“We are detecting them as well,” Seven responded evenly. “We believe it to be the formation of an ion storm, a very rare and valuable opportunity for study.”
“Can’t study if we’re breathing vacuum, Seven. Our shields will be compromised if these outputs spike any higher.”
“We retain a certain leeway in safety protocols, Commander.”
“Yes, we do,” Ro allowed. “But it’s a finite amount, Seven. You’ll know you’ve used it up when we warp out of here. In the meantime, better get all the data you can. We’ll remain here as long as we can.”
“Understood.”
Spurred by the warning, Seven immediately began issuing commands to her staff, her tone clipped and precise. Fortunately, they were used to such authoritative demands from her and immediately sprang into action, recording and calculating every minute detail of the anomaly forming off their port bow. It was organized frenzy, the sort that Seven enjoyed tremendously and she immersed herself in it, working with Lenara to determine what elements were present that might be instrumental in allowing the storm to form. If they could conclude where they formed, it would then be easier in the future to discover places where these disturbances originated. Understanding that would assist them in understanding the storms themselves, and perhaps even lead to predicting and tracking the dangerous and deadly phenomena.
Seven was surprised that they could continue as long as they had. Several hours passed before she felt the unmistakable surge of warp engines beneath her feet and the corresponding chirp on her communicator.
“Sorry, Seven, we can’t wait any longer,” Ro told her. “I hope you have all you need.”
“We do not, but it must be sufficient for now, Bridge. Thank you for your patience.”
She looked at Lenara for the first time since they had begun, both having concentrated intently on their respective tasks. “We have accumulated a great deal of data.”
“Let’s hope it’s enough to figure out why the storm’s forming here and now. That would be an amazing discovery.” Stretching, Lenara rotated her neck in a slow circle, clear indication of her weariness. They were well into the beta shift after having spent a full day in the lab. “I could use a drink.”
“A most advantageous suggestion.” Seven said, much to Lenara’s apparent surprise. “The Nexus?”
“Why not?” But Lenara hesitated as Seven put down her padd and strode briskly for the door. It took a few seconds for her to catch up.
Music throbbed as they entered the dimly lit lounge, a rhythmic song by some archaic female artist from Earth singing something about what a girl wanted. Seven found it alluring and before Lenara could object, she took her hand and pulled her deeper into the room. Again, surprise ghosted over the Trill’s classic features, but she didn’t resist as she and Seven joined the dancers already present in the area designated for the activity, a large square lined with lights sunk into the deck that flashed a variety of colors in time with the music. Moving sinuously, Seven allowed herself to become lost in the music, oblivious to the various stares as she danced with her friend. Several dances passed before she had enough and they retired to a table in the corner where the ship’s bartender, a slender man with purple eyes served them two frosted glasses containing a cherry flavored synthehol, Seven’s drink of choice when she was out for the evening.
Lenara regarded her gravely as Seven drank thirstily. The dancing had been very energetic.
“What’s going on with you, Annika?”
Seven felt her jaw tighten, but she did not allow the flare of irritation she felt to reach her features. “Am I not allowed to enjoy relaxation after a strenuous duty shift?”
“Of course, but relaxation is not usually something you initiate.” Lenara sipped from her glass, slowly as if considering her next words. “In fact, you usually have to be dragged kicking and screaming into any kind of recreational pursuit.”
“I have never ‘kicked and screamed’,” Seven pointed out.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” Seven paused. “I have evolved. Is that not a sufficient reason for my actions?”
“I suppose.”
Lenara didn’t seem completely content with it and since Seven was equally unsatisfied with what she could offer as explanation, she searched for a change in subject. “Have you decided to pursue Leah romantically?” It held all the subtlety of a sledge hammer, but it would undoubtedly accomplish what she intended. Lenara immediately blinked and color rose in her cheeks.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Seven didn’t smile, but she did raise an eyebrow and Lenara let out her breath in an exasperated huff. “Besides, we’ve already talked about this. She has a crush on you, not me.”
“That is inaccurate. It is you with whom she becomes markedly disconcerted, and you with her. It is so obvious that even I have detected it. The question stands.”
“I don’t know,” Lenara finally allowed a few moments of glaring at Seven which perturbed her not at all. “Shipboard romances can be fun. I’ve had my share. And from what I understand, Dr. Brahms is on the rebound.”
“Indeed?” Clearly, Lenara had discovered far more information regarding the situation than Seven anticipated.
“She and her husband didn’t renew their marriage contract recently, so that puts her in a vulnerable place. She might not be ready for anything complicated.”
“Is uncomplicated not the definition of a ‘shipboard romance’?”
“Fair enough, but she’s the type that…” Lenara trailed off and looked uncomfortable.
Intrigued, Seven studied her. “She is the type that…what?”
“She’s the sort that could make things complicated. I don’t want to go into something only to find I’m the only one left at the end.”
“Ah. I comprehend.” And Seven did which, she supposed, was further indication of how much she had evolved over the years. “But if the reward was that you were not the only one left at the end, would that not be worth the risk?”
Lenara shook her head. It wasn’t at the idea, but rather, that Seven was proposing it. “It’s not like you to be offering advice on romance, Annika.”
“I have offered advice many times in the past, particularly to B’Elanna,” Seven corrected.
“Really? Then, I suppose I’ll take your advice under serious consideration.” She lifted her hand, indicating for another round. “Still, you’ve not been yourself, lately. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Seven wanted to sigh, but did not. “There is nothing,” she said, and as Lenara made as if to protest, held up her hand briefly. “Nothing that can be determined.”
“Oh.” Lenara considered that for a moment. “Is there a problem between you and the captain?”
“Not at all. I love Kathryn, and she loves me. We continue to live in harmony.”
“But?”
Stymied, Seven stared at her. “I do not understand.”
“It sounded as if there was a ‘but’ in there.”
“There is not.”
“All right.” Lenara regarded her steadily. “My mistake.” She reached over and touched Seven fleetingly, a brush of her fingertips over Seven’s. “Just know that I’m here for you if you need to talk, or even just to have another night out.”
“I am aware.” Seven dipped her head. “Thank you.” She looked up as a new flood of personnel entered the Nexus and realized they were now into the gamma shift. “I must return to my quarters.”
“We have a full day tomorrow analyzing what we recorded today,” Lenara agreed. “See you, then.”
The captain’s cabin was dimly lit as she entered, quiet and still, and Seven knew Janeway had already retired for the evening. She should sleep but she still felt restless, so she left the main living area and out into the arboretum, trying to find some form of resolution to her day. Surprised not to see Jake, she supposed he was curled up at the foot of the bed, an indulgence both women allowed when the other wasn't yet home. Slipping out of her uniform, Seven sank into the bubbling waters of the hot tub set beneath the gnarled branches of a dwarf apple tree. The hot water was relaxing and she rested her arms on the edge, leaning her head back as she closed her eyes. Slowly, she felt the muscles along her back and shoulders begin to loosen, not realizing how tense they were, even after all the dancing.
She was thoroughly tired of feeling so adrift.
The soft hiss of the door made her raise her head and open her eyes. Janeway stood in the garden, her eyes a dark grey as she regarded Seven somberly, a robe pulled over her shoulders, though she was not actually wearing it. Jake followed at her heels, trotting over to his doghouse where he curled up and went back to sleep, obviously not impressed with mistresses who stayed up all hours of the night. Seven carefully examined her initial feelings, relieved when there was no spurt of annoyance at being disturbed. Instead, there was only the familiar warm glow and sense of pleasure at seeing her spouse.
“Kathryn,” she greeted warmly.
“It’s late.” Janeway paused, as if searching for words. “I woke up and saw that you hadn’t come to bed yet.”
“I was working on the data we assimilated earlier today.”
“All evening?”
“No, I spent some hours at the Nexus with Lenara. We were…” Seven evaluated her next word. “Dancing.”
“I see.” It was clear Janeway didn’t, but she was obviously making the attempt. “You should have called me. I wouldn’t mind dancing with you.”
“It was not that sort of dancing,” Seven explained. “It was loud and energetic. I required such expenditure of energy.” She shifted, the water sloshing slightly. “Join me.”
Janeway’s eyes lightened a little. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Seven waited until the captain let the robe fall to the ground and climb into the tub. But she settled on the seat across from her rather than beside Seven, still watching her with serious scrutiny. Seven moved across until she was in front of her, arms on either side of Janeway’s shoulders, half crouching, half floating in the bubbling heat. “Do not worry so much about me, Kathryn,” she requested quietly. “I will discover the cause of my uncertainty. Until then, know that you are not the source.”
Janeway exhaled audibly and reached out, stroking Seven’s cheek with tender fingertips. “Believe it or not, I know that. It’s just that I just feel so helpless. I want nothing more than to help you with everything I am and I know I can’t.” She smiled, a brief crook to the corner of her mouth. “It’s so frustrating. Patience is not always my strongest quality.”
“No, it is not,” Seven agreed, returning the gentle smile. “I regret that this impacts your emotional wellbeing.”
“I’ll survive. I’m a big girl.”
“You are my girl,” Seven said seriously.
Leaning forward, she covered Janeway’s mouth with her own, a loving kiss that soon turned passionate. This, she realized, was never uncertain. She would always want Janeway with every fiber of her being.
Janeway made a soft sound of pleasure, her lips parting beneath Seven’s, her breath and tongue filling Seven’s mouth and, it seemed, her soul. Settling onto the floor of the tub, the wood a little rough beneath her knees, Seven pressed her upper body against Janeway, feeling the inside of the captain’s thighs press against her sides as they embraced, continuing to kiss deeply. Janeway’s breasts were a soft cushion against her, the hard points of her nipples a distinct pleasure as they slid over the slope of her chest.
“I do love you, my darling,” Janeway whispered when they parted briefly. “So much.”
“I love you, my Kathryn. Always and forever.”
Seven kissed her again, losing herself completely in the sensation as thoroughly as she had in the dancing earlier in the evening. There was something to be said for concentrating completely on the physical to the exclusion of everything else. It was freeing, and made her feel as if perhaps not everything was out of her control.
Janeway woke to the warm embrace of her spouse, the long, lanky body a haven for her in the early morning hours. After their energetic encounter in the arboretum, they retired back to the bedroom where they made love again before finally falling asleep.
Four hours ago.
Janeway wanted to groan, but she would also trade sleep for being with Seven any time, so she stifled it and reluctantly slipped from Seven’s arms. As she walked to the ensuite, the computer uttered their 0600-wakeup call and she heard Seven stir behind her. She felt herself wake the rest of the way up under the stinging spray of her shower set a few degrees cooler than normal, needing the extra little shock to her system. Beside her, she felt the irritating whine of Seven’s sonic shower vibrate the bones in her jaw before it mercifully shut off. She was glad that Seven only required a thirty second blast, and wished she could pull her in beneath the gush of water instead. But that would take far more time than they had and leave Janeway even more reluctant to leave the sanctuary of her quarters for duty.
Over an egg white omelet stuffed with mushrooms and bits of green onion, she perused her padd, going over the reports from the previous beta and gamma shifts. Nothing of note, but it made her feel as if she had her finger on the pulse of everything going on in her ship.
“Another double shift today?” she asked as she sipped from the fragrant heat of her morning coffee.
“Possibly,” Seven responded as she precisely ate her cereal. “We will be correlating the data gathered yesterday with the intention of discovering a definite cause for the storm’s formation. No one has ever made such a connection.”
“Right place, right time,” Janeway said with a smile. “Part of the advantage of being on a science ship wandering out here where no one else in the Federation has ever gone.”
“Indeed.” Seven offered her a glance beneath lidded eyes and Janeway forced back the sudden lance of desire that stabbed through her. She and Seven needed an off-duty day, she thought. Soon.
After kissing Seven good-bye and gathering up her customary thermos, Janeway entered her private turbolift and headed for her ready room. Once she'd deposited the coffee on her desk, she strode out onto the bridge, relieving the officer from the gamma shift who had been holding the conn. Another day in the Gamma Quadrant she thought sardonically as she settled into her chair. And all is right with the universe.
Almost immediately, there was a chirp from Rekar’s ops station and Janeway mentally kicked herself. She shouldn’t presume to think such things, she knew. It was just daring the universe to retaliate.
“I’m picking up a distress signal, Captain. Bearing 3.579. Readings indicate it’s a Terrax vessel. They’ve encountered the outer edges of the ion storm.”
Janeway didn’t hesitate even though she knew warping toward an ion storm went against every protocol and safety regulation, not to mention sheer common sense. But a distress call was universal.
“Divert course, Lt. T'Shanik. Shields at maximum. Let them know we’re on our way, Lt. Rekar.”
Beside her, Tuvok leaned slightly forward, though his expression didn’t alter, nor did he say anything. Janeway felt a grin touch her lips. “No comment?” she muttered softly so no one else could hear. “No warnings about the folly of this?”
“Would it accomplish anything, Captain?” he responded, sounding honestly curious.
“Probably not,” she allowed cheerfully.
Ro was already up and heading for the turbolift, intending to meet her team in the shuttle bay. Transporters would be unreliable this close to the random and powerful energies thrown off by the storm. Despite the danger, Janeway felt a strong sense of contentment steal over her as her crew flowed together into the smoothly coordinated operation of a standard rescue mission. It was like a life-force flowing through her veins, making her feel strong and sure and completely in command. There was no better feeling in the universe, at least, while clothed, and she glanced toward T’Shanik at the helm, wondering if she would ever reach that level of being, this sense of certainty, the knowledge that she was doing ‘Right’ in a way that was so seldom simple outside the confines of her command chair.
But ‘Right’ was a matter of opinion. Even under the circumstances, their hull deteriorating, their power nearly gone, life support failing, the Terrax were reluctant to accept assistance from the away team. Despite a breach, Ro needed to order the shuttle’s shields extended to surround the Terrax vessel, holding in the atmosphere long enough so that she could get the five-man crew out, even though it increased the danger to the away team and the mission exponentially. Janeway could hear the exasperated note in Ro’s voice as she cajoled and prodded them into abandoning ship and coming with her to safety. She was impressed with Ro's patience and made a note to commend her later.
Finally, the shuttle was back on board and Millennium wasted no time in vacating the area. Even with its much greater mass and tonnage, it was being buffeted by the energy waves on the outskirts of the storm, causing it to shudder violently. It was extremely fortunate they had been traveling parallel to it. Had the Terrax vessel been running before it, or the storm suddenly altered direction to engulf them, Millennium would have been helpless. Then the decision to rescue them would have been much more difficult. Janeway acknowledged her luck as she descended in the turbolift toward sickbay where the Terrax crew were being examined for any lingering effects from the wild radiation that accompanied the storm.
It appeared they would have their First Contact encounter after all.
It took a couple of days to return the rescued crew to their planet and with them acting as their advocates, having been treated extremely well on Millennium, the Terrax government began to take the first tentative step out of their xenophobia and into the greater universe at large. Considering she had not expected any type of successful contact at all, Janeway was quite satisfied by the outcome. As she sat on a sofa in her ready room, sipping coffee and looking out at the distorted streaks of stars as they warped away from the system and headed back into the unknown, she knew that this was what it was all about, that without this, her life would be incomplete.
The chime from her door pulled her from her reverie and she put down her mug. “Come.”
She was surprised when she saw Tuvok enter, knowing there was nothing required by the ship at the moment that needed her attention, which undoubtedly meant it was a personnel issue. She motioned into the arm chair, knowing better than to offer refreshment. If he wanted any, he would have acquired it from the replicator before he ascended the ramp to the upper level.
“What can I do for you, Commander?” she asked, adding a touch of formality to it.
“I am here on behalf of the ship’s counselor, Captain.”
Janeway felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. “She couldn’t come to me herself?”
“It is regarding a security matter.” He stopped, as if trying to formulate the proper way to present it. Janeway was instantly intrigued and leaned forward, inviting his confidence. “She has a client with difficulty stemming from an incident that occurred over the previous leave. The incident in question cannot be discussed because of the classified nature, and as a result, Counselor Stone is unable to reach a satisfactory resolution in the matter.”
Janeway worked her way through it, realizing there were patient confidentiality matters involved. “I was under the impression that Counselor Stone’s security clearance was equal if not higher than mine,” she said mildly. “She certainly indicated as much during our initial meeting.”
“Apparently, this exceeds even that.”
“Does it?” Surprised, Janeway thought furiously, though an instant suspicion about who it might involve immediately crossed her mind. And despite herself, and her concern for her spouse, there was a part of her that was reluctant to involve Stone. After all, the incident with the Guardian hadn’t just involved Seven, it had involved Janeway and the very sticky and complicated issues of time travel and temporal interference. It was classified for a reason, and Starfleet Command was clear about how stringent the protocols were. She would have to trust the counselor absolutely in this matter, and she just didn’t know her well enough for that.
But it was for Seven, and Janeway knew in her heart that what was bothering her beloved spouse had everything to do with what had happened in the alternate timeline. How could she deny her any help in the matter? She might as well will herself not to breathe.
“I’ll issue the authorization,” she said finally.
Tuvok lifted an eyebrow. “Is that wise, Captain?”
Janeway blinked and took a closer look, immediately on guard. “You know exactly what she’s talking about, don’t you?” she said flatly. “Is your security clearance really that high?”
It took him more than a few seconds to respond this time, and now she was more than intrigued. She had to know, not just for her own personal curiosity, but because it portended something much greater.
“It fell into my area of expertise, Captain,” he said finally.
“Did it now. And your area is temporal displacement?”
“Not exactly.”
Janeway pinned him with a look. “Are you going to tell me?”
“I don’t believe you possess the necessary clearance, Captain,” he said without inflection.
Janeway picked up her mug and took a long swallow, using the time to consider her next question, rather than give into the irritation rising in her chest. She needed to choose her words carefully if she wanted to get to the bottom of things. “Why did you accept this assignment, Tuvok? It’s not because I needed a first officer. And it’s not because there’s a Dominion envoy on board. Anyone could do that.” She leaned forward and put every emphasis she could on her next words, her voice dropping to its most husky register. “Why are you here, Commander?”
She knew her command glare was as powerful as any in the ‘Fleet. She knew that when she wanted, she could channel the whole of herself in her eyes when dissecting a subordinate. The question was, would it work on a Vulcan? More importantly, would it work on this particular Vulcan?
For a moment, it seemed it wouldn’t, with Tuvok returning her stare with emotionless force. But then, there was just the slightest of twitches at the corner of his jaw, and Janeway intensified her glare, bringing all her command will to bear.
“Captain,” he began, with just a touch of annoyance and she knew she’d won. Whatever he said in the next moment, she had won. “I do not have authorization to read you fully into the situation.”
“Try.” Her tone was implacable.
He managed to hold her gaze a few moments before and looked away. “Section 31.”
Janeway felt a jolt all the way from her stomach to the top of her head. “They’re on my ship?” Her voice hit a note at the end that she wasn’t aware she possessed.
“Nothing like that, Captain. It’s just that you hold a disturbing fascination for them and it was decided a closer scrutiny was required. A presence, if you will, of a senior operative.”
“Do you think they had something to do with that mission to the Guardian of Forever’s planet?”
“The orders that came down for you have been rather difficult to track to a single senior admiral.” He paused. “Or for that matter, any admiral.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect. You’re telling me that I didn’t have to go through that mess at all?” Though, if Janeway was to be completely honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she would give up the chance to have spent time with her father again. What the situation had done to Seven, however, was unconscionable.
“I am not saying that, Captain. I am simply saying that we have had problems in determining what or who is behind the recent direction of certain Federation policies. That is disturbing enough to warrant further analysis. That you and Seven seem involved, however peripherally, continues to confound Starfleet Intelligence.”
“You’re not the only ones confounded.” She rose to her feet and paced agitatedly about the upper level. “So, what does this mean in practical terms, Tuvok? Where do your loyalties lie?”
He looked vaguely surprised, which of course, meant he was considerably stunned by the question. “To you, Captain. Always. This is your ship, I am your first officer, and forever your friend.”
Janeway stopped and put her hands on her hips, regarding him gravely. “Good,” she said finally, deciding that he was genuine, or at least, as genuine as he could be now. “In the meantime, if Dr. Stone can help Seven, I have no choice but to allow her access to the logs regarding the incident. I’m sure she’ll understand how sensitive the situation is once she’s read them.”
“Perhaps you should remind her personally,” Tuvok said with unusual delicacy.
“You’re probably right.” Janeway sat down abruptly and bleakly stared at her friend, her eyes stinging ever so slightly. “It hurt Seven so much, Tuvok. On such a deep level that she’s not been the same, since. Nothing I say or do seems to reach her. I can’t help her.”
Tuvok inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes warming. “I understand, Cap—Kathryn,” he said, and it was a measure of that compassion that he used her name, a rare concession for him. “Though Seven may reflect those of my species in her discipline, her emotion remains forever Human, and is of a quality of depth that is fundamental. She lacks the necessary life experience to have evolved these emotions in a formative way. They strike her every time with the full impact of an adult conception of consequence. It should not be surprising that she lacks the ability to temper it.”
Janeway worked her way through that. “You mean she’s had no childhood and adolescent foundation to what…accept why it hurts so much?” She shook her head. “That’s a hell of a leap, Tuvok, especially for you.”
There was the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. “Kathryn, to control emotion completely for the clarity of logic, it is important to understand what it is. As I grow older, I comprehend that more. Eschewing the ritual of Kolinahr, which strips away emotion completely, a Vulcan must spend his life with all emotions ever present, requiring constant suppression.”
“Then why, Tuvok?” Janeway asked earnestly, needing to know. “I know with age comes wisdom. Does that knowledge find no value in emotion?”
“Of course, there is, Captain. For Humans.” The use of her rank indicated that he was beginning to pull away again, and Janeway felt a pang of regret, knowing how rare these moments of complete candor between them were, simply because of the difference in their species. “But as you know, Vulcan emotion, like Romulan, is both volatile and extreme in nature. To open oneself to it on an ongoing basis is not a matter of slight immersion, but of total surrender. I would no longer be Vulcan once that happened.” He lifted his shoulders slightly in a shrug. “Or rather, a Vulcan fully into pon farr.”
Janeway blinked, surprised. “Was that last a joke, Tuvok?”
“Not precisely, Captain. Merely an uncomfortable truth.” He looked vaguely squeamish. “I cannot comprehend what the sheer chaos experiencing that condition on a continual basis would be like. It baffles me that Humans choose to embrace it.”
“It’s not all sex and violence with us, Tuvok,” Janeway reminded dryly, though she thought then of her experience with the Iboneb pheromones. She couldn’t imagine how it would be to feel like that all the time and be expected to control it, which was essentially what Vulcans did. Perhaps they did know the better path. She found herself thinking the unthinkable.
That Seven would hurt a lot less if she were more Borg and less Human.
The chime for admittance made Sydney glance up and curious, she checked the schedule, wondering if she had forgotten an appointment. There was nothing on the calendar and bemused, she disabled the lock that was always on her door, not only to protect her privacy, but to prevent anyone from barging in on a client.
“Come.”
Janeway’s expression when she entered was hard to read and Stone immediately rose to her feet respectfully, wondering if this was the clearance she had requested regarding Seven. She couldn’t think of anything else it would be. She sincerely doubted the captain was here for a session.
“Captain, please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
Janeway sank gracefully into the client chair and pinned Stone with an expression that impressed the Counselor no end. She’d heard of the command stare, of course, and thought she had encountered it before with the other captains she had served with. Now she realized that she had experienced but a pale shadow of it, the sunlight filtered through an overcast day rather than the full glare of a desert sun, pitiless and merciless. She found herself swallowing convulsively, trying to generate moisture in a mouth gone suddenly dry.
“I understand you require certain clearance to access a classified event,” Janeway said coolly.” I suspect I know for whom, but I need to know for sure.”
Stone exhaled slowly. “You know I must respect patient confidentiality.”
“And I know that I am the one person on the ship for whom it can be broken. Furthermore, I have no intention of allowing a blanket authority in this matter. For both our protection.”
It took a moment to think about it and finally Stone nodded. “Fine. It’s for Lt. Hansen, and regards an event that occurred during her past leave.”
Janeway’s jaw tightened visibly. “Yes, that’s what I assumed.” She withdrew a padd from inside her tunic, placing it on the desk and sliding it across to Stone, but she kept her fingertips on it, holding it flat and preventing the counselor from picking it up immediately. “This padd is independent of the ship’s database. The information contained within it is of the highest classification, Doctor, and is not to be spoken of outside this office or shown to anyone else. Do not link it to anything, and once the matter is resolved, you are to destroy it personally. Violation of any of these restrictions will result in immediate court martial, with the strongest penalty authorized. Is that clear?”
Stone felt a chill of fear lance through her. The strongest penalty in this matter was a death sentence, not necessarily as punishment for a crime, but as a guarantee the information would never go any further. It was not a Federation ideal, but it was an imperative, understood that a true Starfleet officer would accept such a sentence rather than betray one’s duty. Not much wonder Seven couldn’t speak of it to her. “I understand,” she managed. “But are you sure it’s this particular incident?”
“This is the only incident it can be,” Janeway said. “I know my wife that well. Seven hasn’t been the same since it occurred.” She paused, her classic features altering slightly, becoming bleak. “Please, help her, Doctor.”
“I’ll do my absolute best, Captain,” Stone promised.
Janeway nodded, a short, sharp incline of her chin, and rose from her chair. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the office, leaving Stone feeling not unlike having been hit by a velvet covered boulder. She was surprised to see her fingers trembled a bit as she picked up the padd and turned it over, touching the screen to bring up the data.
Several hours later, she was reeling from what she had learned. Just the knowledge alone that such a thing as the Guardian of Forever existed, let alone what Janeway and Seven had been through while encountering it was beyond astonishing. It was little wonder that Seven was still feeling reverberations from it. Of course, that led immediately into what Stone had to do to treat her. It was all connected, she knew, what happened with the Guardian, what had happened in all the adventures and tragedies and triumphs since joining Voyager and before that, what had happened with her…what had been done to her by the Borg Collective. The problem was helping Seven to see it.
No, she amended. The first problem was understanding the whole thing, and it would help to have a little more general knowledge about what she was dealing with. She brought up the personnel files of the scientists onboard, scanning through their area of study. There wasn’t anyone on board that specialized in this particular field, but there was someone who might know a little more about it.
“Computer, locate Dr. Leah Brahms.”
“Dr. Brahms is currently on deck eight, in lab sixteen.”
“Thank you,” Stone said absently, unmindful of the fact she was offering gratitude to a machine.
“You’re welcome.”
On deck eight, she had to wind her way through a maze of corridors that led to the many individual labs belonging to astrometrics. Finally, she found the one she was looking for and discovered Brahms working with two other scientists. Stone had no clue what they were doing or what they were working on, but from their intent expressions, she guessed it was important.
“Can I help you?” Leah was a slender woman with dark brown hair and light eyes. She looked just the slightest bit annoyed at being interrupted.
“I’m Dr. Stone, the ship’s counselor.” Sydney put forth her most charming smile and reached out her hand. “I do apologize for disturbing you, Doctor, but I require some assistance that I think only you can provide.”
Brahms frowned, but nodded before turning back to the other two. “Continue on the polaric ion energy readings.” She turned back to Stone. “I have an office here. This way.”
The office was small and still generic. There was nothing of Brahms in it, no images or personal items. Stone wondered if that was simply a matter of this being so early in the mission, or if Brahms tended not to personalize her workspace.
“Explain,” Brahms said once she had settled in the chair behind the desk.
Stone hesitated briefly in her own motion of sitting down. That intonation echoed strongly of Seven and she wondered how well Brahms knew the head of her department or if it were simply a matter of all Seven’s subordinates taking on her mannerisms.
“I want to talk to you about altered timelines and parallel universes.”
An expression of rueful surprise ghosted over Leah’s full features, making her appear less severe and much warmer in personality. “Not my area of expertise, I’m afraid, Doctor.”
“I realize that, but no one on the ship specializes in that field. You, however, graduated from the Daystrom Institute and were the head of the Theoretical Propulsion Group. You would have dealt with it far more than anyone else, if for no other reason, that you would have been required to read various theoretical proposals that involved the concepts.”
“I suppose,” Brahms allowed. “What is it you want to know?”
“First off, what’s the difference between an altered timeline and a parallel universe?”
“Woo, why don’t you ask something hard?” Brahms said, her eyes widening. Stone knew she was being sarcastic and tried to prepare herself for an involved explanation. “Put as simply as I can, there is no difference except to the individual involved.”
“How so?”
“We know that parallel universes actually exist. There have been several recorded incidents that prove that. Even on this vessel, we have personnel who have experienced such encounters. Essentially, the theory is that every decision made has a multitude of choices and every time a choice is made, a multitude of other universes exist where the other choices were made. You turn right instead of left, you marry your childhood sweetheart instead of breaking up with him, you take a job with one facility as opposed to another, and so on forever. The possibilities are infinite. Supposedly, these universes exist side-by-side and the membrane between them can be breached, allowing you to ‘go over’ and essentially meet that other ‘you’, the one who made a different choice. And the more universes you traverse, the more reality differs and the further away you get from your original universe. Consider all the beings in time making all the infinite choices, add that up and you have infinity times infinity to the infinite power.”
Brahms took a breath before launching into the next level of explanation. “An altered timeline, on the other hand, is when someone goes back and alters a choice, changing the universe you’re from so that when you come back, you become that person, living that life, only you don’t initially remember it that way.”
“But are you sure you come back to your own universe?” Stone asked slowly, her head starting to ache. “I mean, if the concept of parallel universes is based on choosing differently, how do you know after altering the timeline, that you’re actually coming back to your universe and not simply to the parallel universe that already existed? That essentially, you can’t change time, you simply went about traveling to the other universe in a more roundabout fashion?”
“You don’t,” Brahms said, smiling as if in approval of Stone’s chain of thought. “That theory has certainly been presented and is one that can be argued about forever. The argument against it is that while traveling to a parallel universe, it’s possible to meet yourself, that other you that existed independently of you, that made different choices and therefore, is an entity all its own. In an altered timeline, however, you come back to yourself, and it’s believed that the longer you’re in the altered timeline, the more you become who you were and start to forget that you were anything else, including someone who went back and altered time.”
“But how do you know that universe is yours?” Stone argued, trying to get a handle on it. “Because in the initial universe, you made the other choice not to change time, which means the original universe where time was never altered still exists?” Stone rubbed her temples fretfully. “Oh, my God, my head hurts. How do people think about this?”
“It isn’t easy,” Brahms allowed. “In fact, that’s why so few go into the field. And anyone who does is frankly, for lack of a better term, crazy.” She held up her hand as Stone made to protest, stopping her. “I don’t mean mentally ill, or having emotional problems, which is what you deal with. I mean, they’re flat out, completely and totally, batshit crazy. It’s almost impossible to deal with them, and they don’t play well with others, which is why there’s no one on board that specializes in it. They’d never survive on a ship, or even in an organized facility like a university or a think tank. They’re the very definition of a ‘mad scientist’. Inevitably, they work on their own, in isolation. They think about this stuff all the time, about what is, what was, what could be, what should be, what might be and what isn’t. And then they study it, postulate theories, come up with insane lines of research to try to prove those theories, and generally make conclusions that honestly, accomplish little more than to give the few other scientists in the field a chance to argue about said conclusions. It’s almost a fringe specialty except for the fact that we know these things actually exist and people have experienced them.”
“Oh, my God. Okay, so say hypothetically that someone goes back in the past, changes something, comes back to the altered timeline’s present, doesn’t like it, goes back again, essentially undoes the change and comes back to the present it was before, where nothing’s changed except they have a memory of that altered timeline. Where exactly are they?”
“Topeka, Kansas.”
“What?”
Brahms laughed out loud. “Sorry, it’s a joke. Truthfully, there’s no way of knowing if they’re in the original timeline with altered memories, if they’re in an altered, altered timeline, or if they’re actually in a parallel universe where those actions took place and they initially never existed but do exist now.” She shook her head. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be the one who might actually have done that. Or if I did, I certainly wouldn’t want to think about it too hard. I guess I’d just have to accept what is and leave it alone.”
“I don’t blame you,” Stone said weakly, trying to wrap her head around the enormity of what she was facing. And that was just the essential cause and effect. It was the emotional problem of what had happened in that other timeline that was troubling Seven. Stone suspected Seven hadn’t even really considered the actual logistics of it. Would that come up in the future? How would she be able to handle that?
“Now, time travel, that’s a whole other ballgame,” Brahms continued conversationally, though her expression darkened a little. “Though I can see where you might consider it a similar science. As I said, I’m no expert in either, but back in the Federation, where you’d be able to find some scientists who specialize in parallel universes, you’ll never find a scientist who’s an authority in temporal mechanics, at least, not without knowing someone very high up on the food chain.”
“What? Why? There must be scientists who want to research such events.”
“Sure, but they tend to … well, disappear.”
“Disappear?” Stone echoed uncertainly. Brahms looked a little sheepish.
“I mean, they don’t actually disappear, but when they start delving into things the Federation likes to keep classified, they get offered the option of either changing their specialty or going into a sort of special temporal program where they work directly for the Federation Council. Their identities are changed and they no longer exist to family and friends. I was at the Daystrom Institute with someone who ended up choosing another line of work rather than ‘disappear’, which is the only reason I know anything about it. If parallel universes are a ‘fringe’ science, then temporal study is a ‘secret’ science as far as the Federation is concerned.” Brahms leaned forward. “Can I ask what this is about?”
“Nothing, really. I was just curious.”
“About parallel universes and temporal displacement?” Brahms regarded her with open skepticism.
Stone spread out her hands. “What can I say. I’m a Renaissance woman. I’m interested in all things.” She eyed Leah briefly. “Possibly, I could be interested in your field of study. Would you care to discuss it further with me? Maybe over a drink, or dinner, sometime?” She offered up her most endearing expression, one that made it clear her interest was for more than just shop talk.
Brahms blinked, paused, and then blushed, taken off guard by the offer, which was basically what Stone intended, wanting to get her off the topic they’d just discussed and thinking about something else entirely as soon as possible.
“Ah, thank you,” Brahms said graciously. “I’m flattered, really, but I’m not in a place where I could do your offer justice. Just a drink or dinner, that would be fine. Anything else is sort of out of the question for me now.”
“That’s too bad,” Stone said, surprised when she suddenly felt a tinge of honest regret. Brahms was attractive and it had been a while since she and Captain Fernandez had been on intimate terms. Perhaps she was ready to move on, after all. “Another time and place, perhaps.”
“Perhaps.” And Brahms smiled, offering a flash of dimple.
And Stone had to content herself with that as she made her way back to her office. Her mind whirled with what she had learned and how she might broach the subject with Seven in a manner that would be unthreatening and safe. Of course, that was assuming that Seven would agree to another session, considering how the first one had gone. She would just have to try again, perhaps in a different setting. A note from Seven’s file flashed in her head and she thought she had the perfect opening.
All she had to do was get Seven back in the saddle again.
Epilogue
The music was irresistible and Seven moved easily to it, oblivious to the other dancers around her. This was the fifth night in a row she had stopped by the Nexus and people were no longer taking note of her presence, which was fine. She simply wanted to enjoy the music and the physical exertion, rather than make it become anything more.
Which was why she had not told anyone she was doing it. Janeway, she knew, assumed she was pulling another double shift, working on the ion storm readings, and her other friends either no longer had the time or energy to visit the Nexus, as in the case of Ro and B’Elanna, or tended to spend evenings in their quarters. For the time being, she was content with that. Here, no one asked her unanswerable questions like what was going on with her or why she felt so disconnected.
Asked for a clarification that she didn’t possess, nor had the faintest clue on where to find.
The End