Star Trek: Voyager
"Voyages of the Soul"
Episode II: Soul's Recovery
By
Disclaimer: Paramount Pictures owns the characters and backstory, I'm just borrowing them for a bit. Content warning: This story contains references to same gender romance. If this offends you, please find another story to read. Thank you. : )
Captain Kathryn Janeway stood in the doorway leading from the living area of her quarters to her bedroom. Fondly, she gazed at the peacefully sleeping form sprawled out on her couch. How had this happened? Oh yes…
***
One's funeral had been like many of the other Delta Quadrant funerals, with Captain Janeway saying a short speech over the torpedo housing. What had been different, and had moved even the captain to tears, was when Seven of Nine had stepped forth with the Doctor and Ensign Mulchaey and had sung "Taps". Seven's low voice had so clearly carried her grief over One's passing that Janeway was certain that she had been right in believing that on the night of the Talent Fest, the Borg had sung the wrong tune. The last note of the dirge still echoed in the room as Seven stepped away from the casket, allowing two of Tuvok's security personnel to remove the Starfleet flag from the top of the casket, fold it, hand it to Seven, and quietly load the torpedo into the firing chamber. A silent 10 second count-down followed, and then the torpedo was launched into the heart of the G class sun that they had found.
Afterward, Neelix planned a Wake to encourage the crew to celebrate One's life, instead of mourning his death. He knocked himself out, preparing all manner of foodstuffs, and the crew had been enthusiastic in their appreciation of his efforts. Even Seven was cheered enough to spend an hour debating Borg encryption algorithms with Janeway and Tuvok. The party ended on a high note, with B'Elanna carrying a drunken Tom Paris out of the messhall on her shoulder.
Janeway had laughed at the lieutenant's predicament with the rest of the crew and then excused herself to leave as well. She was surprised when Seven joined her in the corridor.
"Captain? May I have a moment of your time?"
"Of course, Seven. What can I do for you?"
"I am… uneasy with the idea of being alone currently, and I was hoping that I could engage you further with more attempts to convince you that my position regarding Borg algorithms is the best one." Janeway didn't know whether she should laugh or cry at this offering. Here she had the chance of a lifetime to get Seven into her quarters, and the Borg wanted to discuss Borg encryption data? God give her strength.
"It would be my pleasure to spend some more time with you Seven, but I would rather we discussed something other than algorithms."
"What do you wish to converse about then, Captain?" Seven had her hands clasped behind her back and she walked alongside of Janeway like a toy soldier someone had forgotten to put away. Several crewmembers passed them in the corridors, but no one commented at Janeway's choice of companions.
Well, the weather is out, since it's always the same in space. Janeway thought sarcastically. What does one chit chat with a Borg about, anyway? Cross-speciel assimilation techniques? The best way to pilot a cube through an asteroid field?
"Captain?" Seven's voice cut through Janeway's musings.
"Sorry Seven, I guess I got caught up in my own thoughts for a second."
"Perhaps you would care to share them, Captain." Why did Seven have to be so damn logical?
"Oh, well I was just wondering what we could talk about, Seven. I'm afraid Borg Conversational Etiquette 101 was not a class offered in Starfleet Academy."
"Then I shall have to design a curriculum for you Captain." Janeway stopped and looked up into Seven's face. Raising one eyebrow and putting her hand on her hip, she barked a short laugh.
"Was that a joke, Seven?" The Borg's face remained impassive, but the icy blue eyes twinkled, just a little.
"If you choose to take it that way Captain, then yes."
"Seven you never cease to surprise me. Thank you."
"For what, Captain?" Now Seven stopped, a perplexed caste to her face.
"For never being the same twice. I really like that in my frien… er crewmates."
Friends. The captains was about to say 'friends'. I know this as certainly as I know that Tuvok is Vulcan. I am… honored. "You are welcome then, Captain."
They had reached the captain's quarters, and the door slid open to reveal a set of rooms that was immaculate, but lived in. Several holo-images decorated the walls, and a low bookshelf in one corner of the room gave testimony to Janeway's love of the printed word. The living area was dimly lit, but as the computer registered their presence, the light was brought up to a comfortable level and Seven could see that the captain's taste in furniture was spartan, but elegant.
"Your quarters are…" Seven searched around for the right words.
"You don't have to say anything, Seven. I know I'm no Martha Stewart."
"Martha Stewart?" Seven inquired.
"A 20th century interior decorating guru, among other things." Janeway responded. "Please, have a seat. Would you care for a drink?"
Seven gingerly seated herself in an overstuffed chair, sitting "like a proper lady" as the Doctor had instructed her. "I do not require liquid refreshment at this time, but if you should need something, please have it." Then, "Guru?"
"Something like a mentor, Seven, only in a mystical sense." Janeway explained while getting a cup of coffee from the replicator. It was lukewarm, as usual. The captain frowned at her cup, then sat down.
"I see." It was obvious that she did not. "Is something wrong with your beverage, Captain?"
"In my quarters Seven, please, call me Kathryn." Though I can think of a few other things I'd like you to call me… Bad Katie! She admonished herself. "As to my drink -- it's lukewarm. B'Elanna still can't get the replicator to provide me with hot coffee."
"As you wish, Cap -- Kathryn." Janeway smiled at Seven's slip. "Perhaps I could be of some assistance with your replicator?" The Borg stood and made to go over to the malfunctioning unit.
"Seven, I didn't invite you here to fix my replicator." Janeway protested.
"Never the less, I am here, and therefore, available to service the device." Seven replied easily. Janeway threw up her hands in defeat.
"Have at it Seven." The captain sat back on the couch and watched in wry amusement as the Borg first removed the faceplate of the replicator unit, then knelt down to peer inside. Maybe five minutes later, her head emerged and she concentrated on her left hand, extending a thin blade from the tip of one finger. Reaching the altered hand back up into the mass of chips and wires, the Borg's shoulder twitched slightly, then, she removed her hand, absorbed the blade-implant and replaced the unit's cover.
"Please try that." She said, dusting off her hands. Janeway set her now cold cup of coffee down on the low table in front of the couch and walked over to the replicator.
"Coffee, Janeway blend alpha. Hot." The machine hummed, then a steaming cup of java materialized. Cautiously, Kathryn picked up the mug, sniffed at the aroma, then took a small sip. She almost dropped the cup in shock. It was hot!
"Seven of Nine, You are a god-send. An honest-to-goodness miracle worker. How did you do it?" Seven smiled, a genuine grin of satisfaction.
"A minor adjustment needed to be made to the regulator array. I believe that Lieutenant Torres could not have seen that it was .0475 micrometers out of alignment. My ocular implant can magnify detail that even a tricorder would not have registered. The incorrect adjustment was small enough that it wouldn't have caused any serious malfunctions, but it was off enough to give you 'lukewarm' coffee."
"Well, whatever you did, I'll never be able to repay you enough." The captain said, taking a well-enjoyed sip of her drink. Internally, Seven glowed. Externally, she just tilted her head in acknowledgement of the captain's praise. Janeway re-seated herself on the couch, and Seven once again took a precarious perch on the over-stuffed chair that sat kitty-corner to the sofa. The captain enjoyed a few more sips of her coffee, then set the cup down on the table and said, "Seven I believe I know what we can do to pass the time."
"Yes, I was thinking that we could discuss the idea of realigning the…" began the Borg.
"Work is not what I had in mind, Seven." Said the captain, dryly. "Actually, I was thinking that I could teach you to play poker."
"Poker, Cap… Kathryn?" It is difficult to remember to use her human designation. I find I am -- reluctant -- to allow that much familiarity, yet, I crave it. Intriguing. "A game of chance, designed to elicit currency or favors from the loser. As I have no money, I assume you wish to play for 'favors'." Kathryn held in her laughter, but not by much. She could not, however, stop the faint blush that colored the tips of her ears. Seven then looked at her with confusion. "Kathryn, if there are any favors you wish of me, then you only need ask them." That was too much for the captain, who burst out laughing. "I fail to see the humor in this, Captain." Said the Borg acerbically.
"Oh Seven, I don't think I could explain it. And I had no intentions of eliciting anything from you, favors or otherwise. I just wanted to teach you to play a card game. Perhaps I should have chosen gin instead." Yeah, right, Katie Janeway. Favors indeed! I can think of a few "favors" you can perform for me, Seven of Nine. Janeway shifted uncomfortably. I really need to get my head out of the gutter.
"Oh. My mistake, Kathryn. Poker shall be adequate." Seven sat forward, not quite eagerly, but with enough enthusiasm that the captain could hardly say no. Janeway dug out a deck of cards from one of the drawers in her desk and set about to teaching the Borg how to play "5 card stud".
It was interesting, and silly, and sometimes difficult to impart to Seven, who was a creature of logical straightforwardness, the need to "bluff" and the intricacies of a "poker face". But eventually, Seven did catch on, winning a few games despite herself. For counters, the captain had used a replicator ration to create a pound of dry beans and in the end, their piles were almost of equal height.
"Well, I'd say you caught on to the game quite admirably, Seven." Janeway yawned. "But for now, I think it's time for me to get some sleep."
Seven made to leave. "I am sorry, Captain. I have kept you away from your rest."
"Nonsense, Seven. I understood that you needed the company. In fact, why don't you just sleep on the couch for tonight? Neither of us have duty in the morning, so it's not like you'd be in the way." Oh, smooth, Katie. Seven looked astonished at the captain's suggestion, then frowned in concentration.
"Is this to be a 'slumber party', then Kathryn?" she finally asked.
"Minus the nail polish, pillow fights and gossiping, you mean?" But definitely not minus the rampant hormones… oh God, but she looks good like that. Seven's perfect coif had fallen into a wonderful muss -- strands of the delicate reddish gold locks were caressing her face and neck. There were faint circles under the Borg's eyes, testifying that she too was tired.
Seven blinked owlishly at Janeway, then nodded shyly. "Yes, I believe that is correct." Kathryn rose and went into her bedroom to retrieve an extra blanket and pillow. When she returned she found Seven curled up in the over-stuffed chair.
"Seven, you can sleep on the couch, like I said." Janeway said gently, reaching a hand out to the suddenly sleepy Borg. Seven took her hand, and Janeway hauled her to her feet. Seven staggered into the captain's arms and for several long seconds, Kathryn had her arms full of warm, soft woman. Oh. My. God. I'mgonnafaint. She thought, but then, Seven slid down into the couch and looked up into Janeway's eyes.
"I believe I am ready to attempt to 'sleep', Kathryn." She said quietly. Silently, Janeway handed Seven the pillow, then proceeded to tuck her in.
"Good night, Seven."
"Good night, Captain."
04/04/99