Star Trek: Voyager
"Voyages of the Soul"
Episode VII: Dark Soul
by
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager, the characters and the backstory as well as any and all dialog pertinent to the specific episodes.
Specific Disclaimer: This story spoils completely the events of the Voyager episode "Dark Frontier", including dialog from said episode.
Other notes: Women who love women. Don't be surprised when Kathryn kisses Seven. If that's not your cup of java, try another blend.
As always, comments and critiques are welcome at: shaych3@yahoo.com. Flames will be recycled as cat toys.
Kathryn Janeway looked up into eyes the color of the dawn sky and knew that she was lost. Just like every time before: Cheb, William, Justin and Mark. Only this time it was different. She was different and so was the individual with the brilliant blue eyes. Very different, she thought, mildly amused.
A tall, cool, blonde stood before the captain with hands clasped behind her back, chin raised defiantly, and a star-shaped silver-grey implant on her right cheek that pulsed rhythmically as she ground her teeth.
Seven of Nine, once a Borg, now something more and something less -- an individualized cybernetically enhanced human being -- held her ground. She knew with every ounce of her being that she was correct in the matter before them. She would not back down, not this time.
"I wish to stay the night with you Kathryn." Her eyes softened, darkened and her voice dropped to its lowest register. "I wish to make love to you, Captain Kathryn Janeway, and I shall not be denied." She reached for the captain, who was frozen where she stood, and rested her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "Please."
Janeway felt her heart swell, then melt into a pool of heat and light that raced through her bloodstream to every point in her body. She was lightheaded and was certain that at any second she would just float away, a feather in the winds of love. Only Seven's hands, warm and alive, kept her anchored to the ground. She swallowed, her throat suddenly parched.
"Yes." Her voice cracked, but she didn't care as velvety soft lips slowly covered hers. She leaned into Seven, parting her lips and sighing as a tongue, moist and warm, brushed over her mouth, then slipped inside to waltz with hers. A hand tangled in her hair while another slid down her back to cup her bottom, squeezing softly, pulling her to the woman who was so thoroughly kissing her.
A dazzly, tingling sensation skittered down her spine as the hand in her hair moved to the back of her neck and blunt fingernails lightly scratched the skin above the collar of her shirt. Her stomach flip-flopped as she slipped her own hands up between her and Seven, cupping the younger woman's breasts through the dark maroon of her unitard. She skated her palms over Seven's nipples, delighting in being crushed closer, kissed harder as the Borg's nipples pebbled against her hands.
"Janeway to the bridge." Tuvok's voice droned over the ship's PA.
"Damnit!" Seven growled as Janeway tore her mouth away. Kathryn mentally echoed the curse.
"Darling, I didn't know you knew such words." She drawled, wiping her mouth, trying hard to make it look less bruised.
"Ensign Kim uttered the word once when we were repairing a power coupling in Astrometrics. I asked him what it meant and he explained to me that cursing sometimes helped relieve frustration. I require relief from my frustration, therefore, I cursed."
"I guess I should be pleased to learn that your education is of interest to the crew." Janeway groused, patting her hair to try and look less mussed. "I just hope teaching you foul language is the worst they can do." She said, under her breath, but Seven heard anyway.
The Borg made a face of displeasure. "I am still frustrated, although I must admit that the level has decreased. Still, it is an inefficient means of abating sexual frustration. I shall have to find another method."
Janeway chuckled. She had no doubt that Seven would do exactly that. They emerged from the Captain's ready room together, looking only a little worse for wear.
"Report." Janeway barked as Seven took up her position at the aft tactical station.
"Sensors are detecting a Borg vessel, Captain."
"Red Alert."
Seven, working steadily at her station, felt the stirrings of fear. "Captain, I believe I can modify a photon torpedo, increasing the yield enough to disable the Cube long enough for us to get away."
"Do it." Seven nodded crisply, then turned and left the bridge.
***
The modifications were highly successful, destroying the cube with a finality that astonished the entire bridge crew. While Paris and the rest sat in stunned silence, Janeway exchanged an amused, "Well, I guess that worked better than we'd expected," over the comm system with Seven. The Borg's monosyllabic reply indicated she was busy studying something. She turned to Tuvok. "You have the bridge. I'm going to go see what we've found."
On the way to the cargo bay, she sent a private communication to Seven. "Darling, that was absolutely brilliant."
"Only doing my job, Kathryn. Are we still going to meet tonight?" There was a teasing edge to Seven's tone.
"Of course my dear," Janeway laughed, a deep, rich sound that reached the ears of curious crewmembers. "I wouldn't miss it for all the latinum on Ferenginar."
"Kathryn..." Seven hesitated, then, all in a rush said, "Iloveyou."
Janeway was stunned motionless and speechless. Her fingers absently rubbed her comm badge, as if to somehow capture the words whole and solid and keep them somewhere safe forever.
"I..." She started, but was interrupted.
"Chakotay to Janeway."
"Janeway here, go ahead Commander."
"You'd better get down here and see what we've found."
"On my way."
Sixteen separate curses in four different languages burbled their way from her subconscious and out of her mouth before she could take her first step. She almost, almost finished what she was going to say, but she knew that the mood had been broken and she didn't think she could resurrect it before she reached the cargo bay.
***
Captain Janeway strode into the cargo bay, proud as hell of her crew and allowing her satisfaction in the destruction of the Cube to shine through her face. She spotted Chakotay and the others by a pile of wreckage and smiled darkly. "Now this is how I prefer the Borg: in pieces." She stepped over a bit of something and began to pick through the rubble while Chakotay explained that most of what they'd recovered was hull fragments, but there were a few things worth salvaging.
The best find was like the grail itself: a transwarp coil. Absently, she fingered her comm badge again, a fleeting smile sparkling in her eyes as she recalled Seven's last words to her. There has never before been anything good about the Borg, until Annika. Finding her has been like... finding perfection, she thought ruefully, wondering what Seven would say about that.
They examined more of the wreckage, talking quietly until Harry Kim noticed something that Janeway was holding and warned her of unknown danger. She gave the ensign the bit of Borg paraphernalia and sighed, looking around the room.
"By my count, we've added at least two years to our journey by avoiding the Borg. I'm tired of turning tail every time we detect a cube."
"Better safe than assimilated," Chakotay said with a concerned smile. They'd had this conversation many times, and every time, the first officer could offer no other solution than the one they had been following: proceed with caution. Janeway's eyes grew distant as she became lost in thought.
Chakotay sighed heavily. "Maybe I should just go to red alert and get it over with." Janeway, mind still light years away, raised an eyebrow at his comment. "You're about to drop one of your bombshells."
This brought her back to Voyager, and the present. She continued staring at her first officer, mildly bemused. "Now, what makes you say that?"
"The way you fiddle with your comm badge. You do it every time."
"Well, I'll have to keep an eye on that," she replied, not daring to tell him how far off base he was.
***
The transwarp coil was no good. A fact that put a considerable damper in Janeway's day, but not enough to make her want to cancel her date. But then Seven reported the discovery of some valuable Borg data nodes and all thoughts of an amorous rendezvous jettisoned out the nearest torpedo tube. In Captain Janeway's mind, the ship came first, and the information contained in the nodes could very well mean the difference between life and death for her crew. Without hesitation, though with heavy regret, she set Seven to work decoding and converting the data.
Kathryn was pleased that Seven managed to reconstruct 62% of the data contained within the devices, and when the Borg presented those findings, she was even more please to answer opportunity's hail. A lone sphere, damaged and drifting in space not far from Voyager was limping home. The captain grinned viciously. This time, they'd be the hunters. Seven saw the look on Janeway's face and knew that her plans for their first romantic liaison had just been recycled.
***
The best intentions... If Janeway had known that pushing Seven to read her parent's logs would lead to Seven walking away from Voyager, -- from us -- , she'd have phasered the padds into oblivion herself. How could Seven leave Voyager? Leave her?
"More like jumped ship back to the Collective at the first viable opportunity," welled a dark, angry voice from deep within her.
Janeway slammed her fist down on her desk. It wasn't fair! All she had wanted to do was liberate a functioning transwarp coil. Getting her crew home had taken on the shine of a hero's journey, and she was prepared to sacrifice every last shred of her soul to succeed, but she was damned if she would let one of her crew, let Annika, go to the altar for her. The vibration from her blow caused a deep blue crystal to bounce off of it's perch and roll toward her. Unconsciously, she picked it up and rubbed it, finding comfort in its smooth silicate planes and in the memories it raised of water and sunlight and warm arms curled protectively around her.
Seven has not jumped ship. She told herself sternly. She's had plenty of opportunities to return to the hive and she hasn't. There's got to be something more to her departure, to her stubborn desire to stay aboard the sphere... She sighed, pondering the dilemma.
"Yeah, there is. You pushed her too hard, forced her to read those damned logs and then gave her grief when she didn't perform her duties efficiently. No wonder she left, she'd rather be a drone than work with you." That same snide, darkly sarcastic voice came back, picking at her weakened emotional state.
"Your survival is important to me." Seven's words echoed through her mind, shushing the demon voice.
"My survival is important... I wonder..." Janeway mused, still caressing the stone, mind a storm of whirling thoughts, all centered on one idea: Seven was in trouble.
***
Janeway was sifting through every last erg of sensor data Voyager had recorded over the last month, creating and discarding rescue plans when Tuvok brought Naomi Wildman in to see her. She keyed the computer to alert her if another one of the strange subspace blips appeared and turned to greet her visitor. Voyager's only child had spent almost every waking moment since Seven's departure working on plans to rescue her friend. It heartened the captain to know that not all of her crew despised Seven. It was the very difference of attitude between the younger Wildman and her own First Officer that fueled her determination. Seven was worth saving, worth having aboard, because if one small child and one Starfleet captain could learn to love a Borg, than anyone could.
Her console bleeped, alerting her to another instance of the strange subspace surges she'd been tracking. She studied the evidence before her, chewing on her lower lip and frowning grimly. The frequency of the signals confirmed their origin and she nodded in satisfaction. She was right, Seven did not leave of her own accord.
***
Seven of Nine -- Annika Hansen -- was terrified. Every iota of her being screamed in abject horror as she was led down a long, empty corridor and into the familiar confines of the Queen's chamber. She had hoped she would never see this place again, even in her nightmares. But she would withstand anything, any horror, any nightmare imaginable, if it would save Kathryn. Which is exactly what the Queen had offered in her sibilant whisperings: safety for Voyager and her crew. So she had come, not willingly, but determinedly, resigned to the fate of becoming a drone once again.
Her fear and resignation began to depart when she was not re-assimilated, but instead modified, allowing her to nurture some hope. A tiny kernel of brightness that she only dared to examine deep within the recesses of her heart, lest the emotion be detected and stamped out. She waited, performing every mundane task set before her with a minimum of disobedience. She didn't want the Queen angry, just annoyed. Anger would cause the Queen to probe Seven's thoughts, revealing the cherished bit of hope, something the ex-drone would resist, no matter how futile.
Even during the assimilation of species 10026 she only defied the Queen enough to deflect a dagger-like probe of will away from the golden ray of hope that was slowly consuming her heart. Only when the Queen had instructed her to begin applying modifications to nanoprobes that Seven knew were destined for Earth and humanity did she balk completely, risking even her last shred of hope in her refusal to comply. She watched as the Queen silently ordered the drones to take her, and waited for the stinging bite of assimilation tubules to penetrate her flesh. They never came.
She grew angry, as the drones advanced inexorably, their minds and bodies controlled by one will. Hatred filled her, boiling through her blood like acid.
"You attacked us! You murdered my family!" She screamed, trying to buy just a few more precious seconds of individuality, time enough to burn the memory of Kathryn's lips on hers into her soul.
"We did no such thing! We gave them perfection." The Queen inclined her head and a drone stepped out of the shadows.
"Papa?" Seven croaked, horror and joy melding at the sight of the drone that was once Magnus Hansen.
"Your family's here. You're here. Be one with us again." Coaxed the Queen soothingly. Seven's will was crumbling. Mama... Papa... ? Here, alive? She was about to say something when a voice echoed in her head. The words were a needle and thread, gathering together all the torn and ragged bits of her courage and sewing them together again.
"Seven of Nine, we're searching for you. Try to hang on." Kathryn. Kathryn! Seven blinked, clearing her eyes and stared at the creature that used to be her father.
"Captain." She whispered, awed, amazed and overjoyed that her beloved had come for her. The shred of hope became a banner, waving excitedly and dancing through her heart and soul with reckless abandon.
The Queen was not pleased. Janeway was the one rival for Seven's loyalties that she could not control. Immediately, she commanded her forces to track down and destroy any Federation vessels in the area. When none were discovered, she felt the stirrings of anger, the emotion throwing her cortical implants into a state of severe flux.
"Janeway." She snarled, throwing her entire being into discovering Seven's lover.
***
All the might of the Collective failed. As rage consumed her, the Queen completely forgot about everything but Seven and Janeway. Drones stopped mid-work, causing a chain reaction that destroyed three thousand Cubes.
Then, she figured out the Federation ship's secret and caused the Collective's sensor to be modified. She turned to Seven, gloating, showing her the vision of her friends, helpless against the fury that was the Borg. Seven's loyalty was within her grasp, and she gave the former drone the chance to comply with her orders, or watch her friends die.
But Seven chose to do nothing, refusing to sacrifice humanity even to save her friends, to save Kathryn Janeway. She knew that if she did, Kathryn would never forgive her.
On the viewscreen, the Delta Flyer suddenly vanished.
"You underestimate them." Seven mocked, relishing the minor victory.
The Queen seethed and frowned. This chaos did nothing to further the Collective's quest for perfection. Nor was Seven of Nine returning to the fold, as had been planned so long ago. The plan was flawed. "It's time for a more aggressive approach."
***
"Resistance is futile." The words echoed through Seven's mind, reawakening childhood memories, images of terror and pain.
"No!" She leapt for the Queen, preparing to rip the Queen apart with her own bare hands if she had to, to spare Kathryn the horror of assimilation. She was stopped without even so much as a twitch of an eyebrow.
"We believed you would be an asset to us. We were wrong." A look of utter sadness crossed the Queen's pale visage. "You are weak." She crushed Seven's mesh-encased hand in hers, and Seven's eyes widened.
"Don't listen to her, Seven." Captain Kathryn Janeway's rough voice caused all eyes to turn toward the doorway to the chamber. Seven's heart nearly burst in her body, a golden glow of warmth suffused her at the sight of Kathryn standing in the doorway, wielding a compression phaser rifle like an extension of her arm. "She's irrelevant." Internally, Seven laughed and cheered over her beloved's choice of words.
Weak? I'll show you what human weakness is, you hell's concoction of science and biology! Annika has chosen Voyager's Collective as her home, not yours and I will defend to my death that choice. If Janeway was surprised at her own vehemence, she gave no sign of it, only locking her gaze with the Borg Queen's.
The Queen snarled, anger overriding her neural network completely. Seven of Nine is mine! I will own her, body and soul. "Your weapons are useless." She declared brazenly, absolutely sure of the Collective's ability to resist the pathetic Federation weaponry. With a glance, she sent the drones to assimilate the Starfleet captain, to show Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to the Unimatrix Zero One, that no one could avoid the siren's call of the Collective, not even Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. A thought enabled a tractor beam to capture the shuttle orbiting the Unicomplex.
Kathryn didn't flinch as the drones moved toward her, their single-minded purpose clear. "Don't be so sure. My tactical officer is disabling the shields around this room." She tapped her comm badge, "Tom, status."
"We've targeted the chamber." Paris' voice crackled back crisply.
I'm not about to let this harpy take away everything that Seven has gained, Janeway thought to herself. Aloud, she said, "Let her go, or I'll give the order to fire." Janeway's voice was flat, emotionless, and absolutely serious. This is why you'll never defeat us, you cybernetic vampire. We are too willing to die for each other.
"You would be destroyed as well, along with your crewman," the Queen replied evenly, not believing for one moment the captain's threat.
"Better than being one of you," Janeway retorted icily. Green eyes locked on to jet black. Captain and Queen, individual and Collective; each sized the other up. "Tom, high-yield torpedoes, full spread. Fire on my command." The captain ordered, maintaining eye contact.
The Queen blinked, releasing the tractor beam on the Delta Flyer. Janeway exhaled a breath of relief and gave the order to beam them out. But the Queen wasn't through. She activated a dispersal field around the room, preventing the shuttle's transporters from getting a lock on either the captain or Seven.
Deceptive as a snake. Janeway thought, then looked at Seven. "Shut down that field."
"Don't listen to her!" the Queen hissed. "She's poisoned your thoughts long enough."
"I'm giving you an order," Janeway said in her best command tone. Don't let me down now, Annika, she prayed.
"One order, one voice!" the Queen scoffed. "Insignificant." She looked at Seven, cold-eyed and dispassionate. "You will comply, Seven of Nine." The queen sent over her subspace link to Seven.
Kathryn let her eyes fill with all the love and desire she felt for Seven. Annika... Janeway thought, hoping her heart was plain to see in her eyes, even if she couldn't say the words.
Seven looked from one woman to the other, and then, she looked at the drones who were her biological parents and chose. The field came down.
The Queen was outraged. Quickly, she reinitialized the field, deflecting the transporter beam away from the room. "You will assist the Collective as drones. Assimilate them." She pronounced imperiously, sure of her victory.
Seven of Nine, once torn apart by the desire to return to the Collective, broke away from them completely. Her heart and mind joined together in a single purpose, to stand by her captain, her beloved Kathryn. "Captain, target the power node directly above this alcove. It will disrupt her command interface."
The Queen, aghast at the final betrayal, stared in complete shock at Seven.
"Our thoughts are one." Seven stated calmly, staring down the stunned Queen, as Janeway fired.
***
It was simple, almost too simple of an escape, even with three fully armed Cubes and the Queen's larger and more powerful Octahedron not far behind. Soon, they were flying free of a transwarp conduit and docking with Voyager. Breathlessly, they watched as photon torpedos vanished into the threshold of the transwarp channel. Seven sat rock still as explosions buffeted the ship. Heartbeats later, the broken remains of the Octahedron erupted from the conduit. Seven and the others aboard the Delta Flyer breathed a sigh of relief.
The fight was over. They had defeated the Borg once more. She shared a look with the captain and winced, noting the dark circles under the Kathryn's eyes and knowing that she'd been the cause of them. She wondered if Kathryn would forgive her, would still love her, even though she had nearly betrayed them all.
***
Home. Seven caressed her alcove in cargo bay two almost lovingly, relishing the sight even as it reminded her of the horrors of the Hive. She had spent hours writing detailed reports about her experiences, about the knowledge she'd assimilated from the Queen's mind while linked to the Collective, until Kathryn had come and put her to bed like a recalcitrant child. Yet it had made her feel so wonderful to close her eyes and know that Kathryn was there, watching over her.
The next day, she was ordered to report to the bridge. When she arrived, Chakotay looked up from the first officer's chair and said, "She's in the ready room. Go on in, Seven."
Captain Janeway was sitting at her desk, entering data into her deskpadd when Seven walked in.
"Seven. Good day. I trust you rested well?" Janeway did not look up from her work.
"I am functioning within normal parameters." Seven replied.
"Excellent. Please, sit down. I'd like to have a talk with you." Janeway indicated the chair across from her.
"I prefer to stand." Seven said archly.
"Of course you do, but I insist that you sit. I'm the captain, I can do that." Though she was smiling when she said it, Janeway's eyes were steely grey. Seven gingerly sat down. "Thank you. I've decided that commander Chakotay will debrief you on the matter of the Borg, but I wanted to ask you a few things before he got ahold of you."
"All right." Seven wasn't sure where this was going, but a shiver of dread rippled up her spine at the chill in Kathryn's tone.
"I really only have one question. Why? Why didn't you come to me and tell me that you were being coerced? Don't you trust me?" The words were knives, cutting deep and severing something that Seven hadn't realized existed, but was none the less a vital part of her heart and soul.
Seven looked Kathryn in the eyes and simply said, "I do trust you." Janeway, however, was unreachable, her eyes still cold and grey. "I love you." Seven added, hoping that the words would somehow break through the walls that the captain had erected between them.
The captain's eyes narrowed. "I... this is not about personal feelings, Annika. But I... I have fallen in love with you, too. I just don't know if I can allow myself to carry on a relationship with someone who would abandon me at the first sign of trouble."
"I did not abandon you." The Borg replied flatly. "I rejoined the Collective to save you, and Voyager, from being assimilated." Seven's words were arrogant, but held an undercurrant of pain. She pressed her lips together, unable to articulate what she felt. Her eyes bored into the captain's. Seconds passed, then, softly, almost inaudibly, she said, "I had no other choice."
Janeway's only response was an icy glare. Finally she said, "Sacrificing yourself for me or my ship is unacceptable, do you understand?" Her eyes melted, turning a brilliant green. "I will not have your blood on my hands, Annika." She whispered. "Go. You're dismissed."
Seven fled the room, managing to stifle her tears until well after her shift had ended.
***
As the ready room doors hissed shut, Captain Janeway rubbed her temple, berating herself for being an idiot. What the devil is wrong with you Katie? One of her inner voices asked. I haven't a clue. I just don't know. She answered herself. Why are you so angry with her? Is it because she did exactly what you would have done, if your positions had been reversed? She was hard put to deny it. I've really stuck my foot in it this time, haven't I? But I just... I'm so scared. She scared me, I fell for her so quickly, so deeply, and she scared me. Can I allow myself to give so much of me to another person, and still be an effective Captain? I was ready to do whatever it took to get her back. I would have broken every Starfleet rule, gone against everything I stood for, for her. How can I let myself get attached to someone who can do that to me? She had no answer other than, how can I not?
***
Seven was curled up in a corner of cargo bay two, just wiping away tears when she heard the doors to her "quarters" open. For the first time in her short tenure aboard Voyager, she wished she had her own cabin. Even though the intruder was probably only Neelix after some odd spice or another, she really felt no desire for company. She shrunk back into the shadows, hoping that whoever it was would get what they needed and leave without seeking her out.
"Seven?" Naomi Wildman's voice reached through the darkness to caress the hidden Borg's ears. She curled away from the voice and the light, not even wanting to spend time with her friend. "Come on Seven, I know you're in here. It's time to play Kadis-kot, and look, I even brought my homework," Naomi called out and Seven imagined the little girl proudly brandishing a padd filled with her painstaking schoolwork. The Borg almost smiled at that; she was touched beyond description by the child's persistance.
"I am unwell, Naomi Wildman, please return another time." Seven replied, hoping that Naomi would take that as a dismissal.
"Are you sick? Should I call the doctor for you, Seven?" Naomi asked, as she searched around the cargo bay for her friend. She finally came around a corner and spotted Seven's form against the back wall, wedged in a corner between a shelf and a barrel of pickled leola root.
"I do not require the doctor at this time, Naomi. I just wish to be left alone."
"Huh." Naomi said, sitting down across from Seven. "Mommy says that when a person is feeling down, sometimes all they need is a good distraction to pick them up." She set her padd aside, pulling out a deck of cards. "Since we don't have enough room to play Kadis-kot, we can play poker instead." Seven had been teaching the girl to play, feeling that she should give something in return for all the games that Naomi had taught her. But poker was Kathryn's game, and she didn't feel like playing it right now.
"I do not wish to play poker ever again." Seven stated roughly, having to choke back tears.
"Seven? What's wrong?" Naomi asked, concerned. Seven didn't answer, just lowered her head as several tears slipped down her cheeks. The half-K'tarian child did the only thing she could do, she climbed into Seven's lap and pulled the older woman's head down onto her shoulder.
Patting Seven's back she whispered, "There, there, Seven. It'll be all right, you'll see."
***
It had been nearly two weeks since the encounter with the Borg Queen and, aside from the ill fated meeting in the captain's ready room, Kathryn had been unwilling to spend any off-duty time with her. She sighed, leaning her head against a strut of her alcove. She does not want me anymore, because she cannot trust me. I cannot blame her, since I would do it all over again. Memories of her short time in the Unicomplex, and aboard the Queen's vessel assaulted her mind. She closed her eyes, seeing the hazy, cluttered corridors of the Octahedron once again.
Oddly, it was the screams of the frightened victims of species 10026 that knifed through her thoughts, forcing her out of regeneration several times. Those screams blended with the millions of scenes of terror that she kept buried under the surface of her consciousness, their emotional impact once neutered by her cortical implant, but now, as her grasp on Humanity strengthed, turned her stomach.
She thudded her head against the cool metal of the strut, relishing the crisp sting of pain against her skin. Pain was efficient; these horrific memories were not. Pain, she could assimilate and ignore; memories were more elusive, teasing her with nightmare images and haunted sounds. She struck her head once again, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes involuntarily as the almost-pleasant thrill of battered nerve endings forced away all thoughts except: I deserve this pain. I want this pain. Pain is my choice, it is what my life is, was and will be, since betraying the captain.
She was only vaguely aware of the doors whooshing open, of the faint click of a tricorder being opened and the silver scanning device being passed over her cranium.
"Well, I'd say you've contracted a terminal case of self-pity." Voyager's doctor, an Emergency Medical Hologram said with asperity. She didn't respond, just kept thumping her head against the pole. "Hmm, and it looks like you're going to be suffering from a concussion as well. I guess I'll just stick around for a while. You'll need me soon enough."
"Go away." Seven whispered, hoping the EMH would actually listen.
"I don't think so. You need medical attention. You are injured." A thin line of crimson tracked down Seven's forehead.
"I have damaged myself." She said, not quite believing it.
"Yes, you certain did. Care to share why?" The Doctor asked as he pulled a dermal regenerator out of his pocket.
"I am unsure. I can not find the words. I feel, felt -- as though I deserved to hurt, even if the pain was physical."
"Guilt can do that to you, so I'm told." The EMH said compassionately as he finished patching up the small split in Seven's skin. His dark eyes softened as he watched confusion settle over Seven's face.
"Guilt? I have not done anything wrong. Why should I feel guilt?" Seven nearly demanded. The hologram crossed his arms, leaned back against Seven's workstation, and frowned slightly.
"Well, in a way, you did just cause Captain Janeway to risk her life and the lives of several members of the crew, just to rescue you from the Borg."
"Why?" Seven suddenly asked after several seconds of silence.
"Excuse me?"
"Why did she save me? Why didn't she just let me go? That would have been the safest and most logical course. I am only one crewmember, by coming after me she risked the entire crew. The Queen wanted me -- only me. She was quite willing to let Voyager go."
"Well, I'm sure there are others among the crew who wonder the same thing, but I would have to say -- knowing what I know about the two of you -- that she did it for love. Officially, I'm sure she will come up with some reason why, but I believe otherwise. She loves you, Seven." He smiled softly.
"I do not know if I can believe that." Seven replied, hanging her head.
"Suit yourself. But please, in the future, if you're going to batter your head against a solid object -- try not to bleed all over yourself." He indicated the two drops of her blood that had stained the blue of her uniform. Seven just glared at him. The EMH threw up his hands in defeat. "Sorry. Next time, I'll turn off my humor subroutine before coming down to examine you." He stood up, "I'll report to the captain that there is nothing wrong with you and that the new implants the Borg installed were removed successfully. Have a nice day." He pocketed his tools and stormed off in a huff, leaving Seven alone once again.
She did not feel any better when he'd gone, though, and the emptiness of the cargo bay began to crowd in on her, making her feel small and alone.
"I am one. Alone. I deserve this. I chose this. I am one." She repeated the mantra over and over again until a shield of ice settled over her heart, closing off her emotions in a crystalline prison.
***
Janeway was in her ready room, reviewing Chakotay's report on the salvage of the wreckage they'd collected from the Borg Queen's ship when the EMH delivered the padd bearing his findings on the implants he'd removed from Seven of Nine. The captain smiled and nodded at him, trying not to seem overly anxious to read the report. She was concerned about Seven -- the young woman had been coldly distant since their talk the morning after the rescue. "Unapproachable" was how Chakotay had put it, in his report. She'd left the debriefing of the mission up to the ex-Maquis because she felt too close to the situation and now she wondered if perhaps she should have attempted to do the job anyway. Maybe the Doctor's report would shed some light on the matter.
When the hologram didn't immediately leave, she looked up from perusing the report and said, "Is there something I can help you with, Doctor?"
The EMH nodded briskly. "Captain, I don't normally meddle in the affairs of the crew --" One upraised eyebrow from Janeway caused him to cough lightly, "Well, I certainly don't meddle in the private lives of the crew --" An amused grin tugged at the corners of Janeway's mouth. "Oh all right! I'm a horrid gossip and everyone knows it, but I usually abstain in mucking about with things that pertain to you or the rest of the Command crew. However, this time I must insist! Captain, you've just got to do something about Seven!" The hologram was pacing the room agitatedly, flailing his hands in the air like two manic birds.
"Is there something wrong with Seven of Nine?" Janeway asked, not quite able to keep the alarm from her voice. "Something that the Borg did to her that we didn't catch?"
"No, no, nothing like that. Physically, Seven is fine. It's her mental state that I'm concerned about. She's become withdrawn, uncommunicative and she refuses to do anything but work and regenerate."
Janeway steepled her fingers, thinking about the EMH's words, weighing them against what Chakotay had said, adding in her own worries and coming up with more questions. "Doctor, I believe your concern is well placed, but are you sure that this behavior is all that odd? I mean, Seven is a rather solitary person to begin with, and she's never been chatty."
"Yes, yes. I know all of that. Do you really think I would waste your time with spurious claims? I wouldn't have said anything at all, chalking up her behavior to a form of post-traumatic stress and quietly started her in counseling sessions with Commander Chakotay." The Doctor finally sat down, knotting his hands together so tightly that his holographic knuckles whitened. "Today, when I went to scan her implants and check on her recovery, I found her in the process of battering her cranium against one of the struts of her alcove." The captain's face went white.
"Oh, really?" She finally asked, voice choked. What have you done to her, Katie? she cried silently.
"Yes, and when I attempted to talk to her about it, she pushed me away. Then, she asked me why you'd gone to rescue her... indicated that she felt that doing so was a waste of Voyager's resources!"
"I see." Kathryn felt her teeth grind together, a sure sign that she was deeply affected by the news. "Go on."
"She didn't say much else. Captain, I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but Seven has informed me of your relationship with her and, well, I told her that the one and only reason that I could think of for your going after her was -- was that you loved her." He finished in a rush, then frowned, almost daring her to tell him differently.
Janeway swallowed. Well, you knew that the secrecy wasn't going to last forever, and in truth, did you want it to? How nice would it be to just walk into astrometrics at the end of your shift and kiss your girlfriend hello? Or better yet, share a meal with her in the mess hall? "All right, you've made your case." Kathryn said slowly, choosing her words with care. "And yes, Seven and I had begun to see each other."
"Well then, pardon my candor Captain, but get your red-shouldered butt down to cargo bay two and talk to Seven!"
"Doctor, I believe you are fringing on being out of line." The captain barked, then, softer she said, "But your point is taken. Thank you, that will be all." It was clearly a dismissal.
The EMH nodded sharply, then left. Kathryn sighed and rubbed her temples. Life as a Starfleet captain is certainly never dull, she thought plaintively. Though I doubt that the Academy had our love lives in mind when they designed our curriculum. The rolling hum of Voyager's warp core thrummed through the soles of her boots, providing a current of calm that allowed her to just sit there, breathing in and out, examining the problem from all angles.
Do I go to her? Do I expose myself, allow her in, be as vulnerable as she has proved to be? Am I angry with her? Do I care anymore that she decided she didn't trust me enough to tell me of the Queen's communications -- that she abandoned me, even if it was for a good cause? Kathryn pictured herself walking away from Seven now, before she had verbally committed herself to the woman, and felt a stab of pure agony slice through her. I have been such an ass...
"Well, I guess that's my answer," she said aloud, ignoring the computer's confused chirrup. She clutched at her chest, still not quite recovered from the pain. Yet, she could do nothing, for it was only the middle of her shift, and if she, as the captain of the ship, left her post for personal business, what would prevent others from doing the same? So she did the next best thing she could do -- she logged Seven as relieved of duty and sent the young woman a message.
Seven,
I am giving you the next few days off to recover from your experiences with the Borg Queen. Please take advantage of them.
Capt. Janeway
Then, she sent a private message.
Annika My Darling,
I would be delighted if you would have dinner with me in my quarters today at 1800 hours. I think we need to talk.
Love always,
Kathryn
Both messages sent; all the captain could do was sit and wait.
***
Seven of Nine looked up as her console beeped, informing her of an incoming message. She stood, pushing several stray strands of hair out of her face and moved to read the note. She had barely gotten through the first message from the captain when the second, more private note appeared on her screen.
The words took on a glow that wrapped around her heart and squeezed, shattering the ice that had formed and warming her completely. I love this woman, this perfect imperfection of humanity, with every piece of who I am. Nothing could be more wonderful -- closer to Omega -- than to see her smile. That will be my goal from now on -- to cause Kathryn Janeway to smile.
Carefully, Seven saved the notes to a padd, then went to sickbay.
When she arrived, the Doctor appeared. "Please state the nature of the -- Seven, how wonderful to see you, and my, you're not even damaged. How may I help you?"
"I require medical assistance, Doctor. I have been injured."
"Really? Tell me all about it." The EMH picked up a tricorder and began scanning the Borg.
"It is not a physiological injury, but a mental one. I believe it is called 'post traumatic stress disorder'." She swallowed convulsively. Admitting the weakness, even to a hologram, was tougher in practice than it had been in thought. "I wish to begin treatment," she whispered, trying desperately to remain rooted in place and not flee back to cargo bay two and the safety of her alcove.
"All right Seven." The Doctor said, putting aside his scanning device. He walked up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and gestured toward his office. "Please come in here. We can talk for a while."
Seven closed her eyes and nodded, taking a trembling step forward. For Kathryn. For me. For us. She thought, opening her eyes and stepping through the doorway with something approaching her usual confidence.
After they sat down, the hologram took a deep breath and said, "I am not really programmed as a counselor, perhaps Commander Chakotay would be a better person to seek out for this." Seven shook her head negatively.
"No. The commander does not like me, nor does he trust me. The feelings are mutual. I do trust you, Doctor, and I admire your efficient approach to most matters. You will be sufficient."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence. I shall do my best for you Seven. Where would you like to begin?"
They talked for several hours.
***
Seven left sickbay feeling as though she'd been pulled inside out, scrubbed vigorously and gently rinsed and dried. She'd never experienced anything like the Doctor's brand of acerbic compassion blended with his own unique form of therapy. It was wonderful and crisp. Her body and mind tingled wonderfully. There were still areas of darkness within her, places where it hurt too much to talk about, think about yet, but soon -- soon, she knew she'd be able to go into them without fear. Right now, this moment, she wanted to return to cargo bay two, put on her casual attire and dine with Kathryn.
Dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, with her hair down in a ponytail, she almost skipped through Voyager's halls on the way to the captain's cabin. She rounded a corner and nearly bowled over a young Bajoran ensign who was just stepping from the turbo lift. He smiled at her, and she returned the smile, somewhat nervously. Something wasn't right, she was beginning to feel a strangeness creep over her neural synapses. The officer's face twisted and melted away, became alien, yet familiar...
"Species 20947, your distinctiveness will be added to our Collective. Resistance is futile." She approached the huddled mass of bipeds, extending her arm, assimilation tubules leaping out and striking a male in the neck. He screamed, long and deep, voice carrying down the vent shaft she'd had to climb into to retrieve the aliens. His cries blended with others, creating a cacophony of pain and terror, but her Borg subroutines blocked out the emotion, the Collective will driving her on to assimilate his mate, his children, even the family pet.
"State your destination." The computer's toneless voice shattered the memory, leaving Seven leaning against the padded wall of the turbo lift, breathing raggedly.
"Deck three." She whispered, unable to raise her voice any further.
***
Kathryn Janeway looked over her quarters, pleased with her efforts. She'd rearranged the furniture some, spent a few precious ration slips, and soon had a cozy dining table and two chairs set up for a perfect romantic evening. Candles, china, silver, linen napkins, the works. She'd even gone through several selections of music until she had found one she liked: a soft piano concerto that was soothing without inducing sleep. She'd planned a meal from a recipe her mother had insisted she program into her personal database -- something she was abundantly grateful for now -- and one that she herself hadn't eaten in three years. Herbed chicken, with all the trimmings. Her mouth watered at the memory of the blended flavors, and her heart thumped wildly, hoping that Seven would enjoy the meal as much as she.
Will she forgive me? Can we make this work? Oh god, please... please, give me, us another chance, She silently prayed.
The door chimed at 1803 hours. Janeway smiled tremulously, casting a quick glance over the room one last time. Everything was in place. She walked over to the door and manually opened it. Seven of Nine staggered into the room, nearly collapsing into the captain's arms.
"Help me." The young woman cried, sobbing. "I am damaged."
Kathryn slapped her comm badge. "Janeway to sickbay, medical emergency in my quarters."
"On my way!" The EMH replied.
Janeway lowered Seven to the floor. The Borg began to thrash about, moaning in pain and fear. Kathryn reached out to touch her, to comfort her, and Seven curled away from her hand, ending up huddled in a fetal position against the bulkhead.
***
They were coming to get her. The Borg, the giant metal covered men that mommy and daddy had been studying were going to assimilate her and make her a drone and she'd never ever play with daddy's model ships again. Everything was all going away. Mommy and daddy were Three and Four of Ten now, and she was designated Seven of Nine and placed in a maturation chamber. Green light filtered over everything and soon, she couldn't remember Annika Hansen, or Magnus and Erin Hansen, just the voice, the will, the Collective. The Queen. The Queen, who was Mother, Goddess, and hub of the force that was the Borg.
She had defied her. She had renounced her. She was defective. They would deactivate her now. Voices crowded into her mind, admonishing Seven, telling her in a thousand ways just how defective she was. They were going to punish her.
From her curled position, Seven let out a howl of sheer agony as her implants seized one by one, electric shards of pain driving into her flesh and cracking bone. Her arms broke, then her legs, then her spine. Then, mercifully, she felt nothing at all.
***
The whine of transporters filled the air as the doctor beamed in. He whipped out his tricorder and began scanning Seven immediately. The captain was kneeling next to the young woman, whose body was curled against the bulkhead and quivering. He heard several sickening snaps and watched helplessly as the Borg flailed about erratically, knocking the captain aside, and ended up sprawled on her back with arms and legs severely wrenched and twisted. Seven's body stilled, breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. A trickle of blood bubbled up from her nose, then streaked down her face. Her eyes, which had been closed, suddenly flew open, bugging out and she let out a gurgled cry of pain.
Janeway looked up, fear making her voice harsh. "Do something!" She ordered. He didn't know what to do. Every implant in Seven's body was failing. Some were retracting, others, expanding. The rapid size change forced Seven's body to compromise, which snapped bone and tore muscle to accommodate for the changes. Even the tricorder couldn't keep up with the permutations, having to scan and rescan every microsecond. Seven's breathing had stilled and she seemed to be at a semblance of peace when once again her body began to bounce around erratically.
"Kathryn!" She keened, moaning and thrashing about wildly. She screamed as her body stilled, then spasmed, arching upwards, twisting and snapping ribs; bone and muscle tearing and breaking like kindling.
Shaking his head sorrowfully, he said, "There's nothing I can do. I can't even determine what's happening!" He actually wailed the last bit, hating with every single micron having to admit that to the captain. The EMH closed up his tricorder as Seven's body came to a final, unnaturally still rest on the floor. Janeway looked as if she were ready to eviscerate something, and as if the hologram would be the first candidate.
"Whatever it is, I bet the Borg are responsible," she snarled, her green eyes blueing to indigo.
"Kathryn." Seven's harsh croak reached up to tear the captain away from her anger.
"Yes, Darling?" Janeway didn't care that she had an audience. Seven was far more important than protocol.
"I am frightened." Memory flooded the captain. The elevator shaft. When she had been the only lifeline Seven had.
"I know. I am here. I won't let you go." Kathryn moved around so that Seven could see her, placing her hands on Seven's cheeks so that she could feel the warmth of touch.
"I cannot feel anything below my neck. My vital signs are falling and I know that I am dying. I do not wish to die. I love you." The simple statements shredded Kathryn's heart into a million tiny pieces. Tears splashed onto Seven's face as Kathryn caressed her cheeks.
"Oh darling, I love you too. I'm not going to let you die. We will find some way. I promise." Her emotion choked words were hollow though, because the Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head, indicating that he could do nothing.
Seven smiled, Kathryn's oath of love driving away all thought as she drifted away, floating, feeling nothing more than a light breeze ruffling her hair...
***
"She's gone." The EMH sadly pronounced. The captain nodded, brushing her lips over Seven's one last time, then stood.
"I want to know why this happened." Her voice was deadly quiet, almost a whisper, but the chill tone of command sizzled along the Doctor's programming like a power fluxuation.
Seven's body was beamed to sickbay and Tom Paris was called away from the helm to aid the doctor in the post mortem. Chakotay and Tuvok were the only two other crew informed of the Borg's death, the captain not wanting to tell the rest until she knew why the young woman had died. She especially didn't want to tell one very young, very vulnerable half-K'tarian child.
In sickbay, Paris and the Doctor got to work. They knew they had 72 hours to figure out what had happened, and still revive the young woman. However, the Doctor didn't want to perform the revival until he was certain he knew what had killed her in the first place, afraid it would just kill her again.
Each section and segment was carefully scanned, probed and explored. Twelve brutal hours of micro-scanning every cell from Seven's cranium to her abdominal cavity, and, finally, they had found something. An implant, so small that the Doctor wasn't even sure it was really there, was woven from Seven's medulla oblongata, all the way down her spine, and joined with the external waste conversion implant.
The Doctor paged Janeway. "Captain, could you please come to sickbay?"
Once she arrived, he showed her his discovery. She nodded as she looked at the scans of the apparatus through the the micro-analyzer. "I see it. An implant, apparently with it's own power supply, processor and some sort of phase shifting device. Very clever." She was almost admiring in her hatred.
"Yes, and when I removed a section, it just grew back. It seems to have it's own set of self-sustaining directives. Not even Seven's nanoprobes control it. I'm afraid that it's a little beyond me."
"Well then, we'll just have to get you some help." She tapped her comm badge. "Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Kim, report to sickbay immediately."
Both officers were shocked at the news of Seven's death, but got to work quickly, trying to determine how to remove the implant. They knew that they had less than 60 hours to succeed, and neither was willing to give up, foregoing sleep and meals in order to have extra minutes. They worked on the holodeck, with holographic images of Seven that the Doctor supplied. One set from yearly medical checkups, and one taken when she'd arrived in sickbay for her post mortem.
Janeway pitched in, turning the bridge over to Tuvok and Chakotay. She felt far more useful as scientist than a captain for this project.
At the 44th hour, she took a five minute break, rubbing her eyes and swilling cold coffee, trying to take her mind off of the intricacies of borg code for just a brief moment. She glanced at Harry who was working feverishly, tongue stuck between his teeth as he translated the pictographic code into standard alpha-numerics.
B'Elanna looked up and sighed heavily. "May I make the suggestion that when this is all over, we have Seven write a decryption program for us? This stuff is going to give me nightmares."
The captain smiled half-heartedly, finished her coffee and said, "I like your optimism, Lieutenant."
In the 53rd hour they found the correct codes to reprogram some of Seven's own nanoprobes to assimilate the foreign device. Once assimilated, they hoped to be able to control it through Seven's cortical implant. They ran 144 separate simulations in the holodeck, each one successful. With that benchmark, they beamed directly to sickbay.
The Doctor injected the modified nanoprobes, then turned and nodded to Janeway. "It's begun." He said softly. "Let us hope for a miracle."
"I don't believe in miracles, I believe in results." Janeway snapped. She looked at each person in the room, trying to convey with just her eyes alone how imperative it was for them to succeed.
B'Elanna's back straightened as she stood ready at her console, waiting for the process to begin. The Captain's words had infused her with a sense of purpose and suddenly, failure was not an option. "Ready, Captain." She said, tone even and respectful.
Paris had left for his duty shift on the bridge, so Harry was standing in for him as nurse. He indicated a tray loaded with medical instruments. "Ready here, Doc."
They all held their breaths. The wall display behind the surgical biobed lit up, showing the modified nanoprobes attacking the strange implant, and assimilating it. B'Elanna began rapidly entering code, helping the nanoprobes along, coaxing them to work faster, more efficiently. Soon, the rogue implant had turned from a bilious green tone to the more familiar silvery grey.
Collectively, they breathed a sigh of relief as the EMH beamed the inert implant into a stasis field. "Now the real work begins. Mr. Kim, the bone-knitter, if you please?"
Six grueling hours of surgery later, he reactivated Seven.
***
It was white, and cold, and utterly, utterly calm. She looked around, not seeing, not caring that she saw at all. She was nothing at all, weightless, drifting in a realm of sterility that was crushing in it's emptiness. I do not belong here. She knew this, as sure as she knew that she was Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct to the Unimatrix Zero-One, formerly known as the child Annika Hansen and now serving as the astrometrics officer on the Federation starship Voyager. Beyond that, she was the most beloved individual of Captain Kathryn Janeway, the woman who had returned her to humanity. Kathryn loves me. I heard her say it. She loves me. Me! Something hotter than the core of a yellow sun blazed through her, stopping her thoughts. Before her eyes the white world went crimson, like freshly shed blood. She shut her eyes against the sight, wanting nothing to do with the roiling, pulsing redness. Then, she was cold, like her body had been frozen under the ice fields of Tau Ceti Prime. A silver bell tone chimed, calling her, almost as if it were speaking her name and she realized that she desperately needed to see again.
She opened her eyes. It was dark, and cool. She blinked, clearing her eyes. She was on her back on a biobed in sickbay, the lights overhead dimmed to the lowest setting. Her feet tingled, her nose itched and she thought that she might need to use the waste recycler.
Something warm and soft was curled around her left hand, and she felt the tickling presence of hair on her arm. She craned her neck, amazed at the lack of pain, and saw Kathryn snoring softly, head resting against the side of the biobed, hair draped over Seven's arm like a small cloak, and a hand holding Seven's mesh-encased one tightly.
Seven twitched her hand, squeezing Kathryn's lightly. Instantly the captain awoke, lifting her head and, when she saw the watching Seven, smiled so wide the Borg wondered briefly if Kathryn's face would split in two. The younger woman carefully rolled to her side, bringing her right hand around to touch the captain's face. "Kathryn." She breathed out the name. Janeway sobbed, reaching up and covering Seven's hand with hers, nuzzling her cheek against the knuckles before pulling it down to kiss the palm softly.
"Hey." Janeway finally croaked, voice harsh from disuse. "Did you... have a good nap?" She asked, grinning wryly.
"No." Seven replied. "I do not feel rested. Death was not interesting. I don't believe I wish to experience it again any time soon." Kathryn laughed, the sound a combination sob and chuckle.
"Well, welcome home." Before she lost her nerve, Janeway bent down and kissed Seven. It was supposed to be a gentle kiss, just enough to reaffirm her feelings, but the Borg was having none of that. She wrapped her arms around the captain's neck and held her down, covering her face and mouth with hundreds of kisses.
In between each kiss, she whispered, "I love you."
"I love you too, my darling." Kathryn replied, after about the twentieth time Seven kissed her. In response, Seven finally captured the captain's lips in a deeply passionate embrace. Kathryn fell into Seven's kiss with a will, loving the way that the younger woman's lips moved over hers so gently, yet at the same time, incredibly demandingly.
Janeway moaned, pulling away to rest her forehead against Seven's. "Not here, my darling. Not now. You need to rest."
Seven closed her eyes, then nodded. "I will comply, if you will stay with me."
Kathryn smiled, green eyes sparkling. "Of course, my darling." She found a chair and sat beside the biobed, then began to stroke Seven's hair, crooning softly as the younger woman succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep.
From his office, the EMH watched the two lovers reunite and congratulated himself on another job well done.
fin
06/13/99
This story carries with it several special notes. First of all, I'd like to thank all my readers for their support and feedback. It means so much to me when you write : ). Also, thank you for being so patient while my computer is ill. Second, I'd like to thank my beta readers. Without you, this story would have been ever so much more boring. Thirdly, this story was influenced in many parts by the music of Tempest, the Practical Magic soundtrack (most especially Stevie Nicks' contributions) and Tingstad & Rumbel's American Acoustic.
Thank you for reading.
wind to thy wings,
shay : )