THE BREEZE THAT MOVES ME
PART ONE
Love – what is love? A great and aching heart;
Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair.
Life – what is life? Upon a moorland bare
To see love coming and see love depart.
(‘Love,what is love?’ by R L Stevenson)
The Present
“No..oo!”
I wake violently, crying out, and the naked, sleeping woman on top of me stirs, unconsciously pinning my body to the bed. My breathing is laboured and it takes me precious seconds to realise that I have been dreaming again, remembering with abject fear and horror, the cave-in so long ago.
For in the dream, I am there again, in that place where fate sought to give me something so precious, .. love .. yet cruelly sought to remove it again in almost the same breath. And in the seconds of waking, I know once more the anxiety of loss, and of inconsolable heartbreak.
Despite the technological distinctiveness of the Borg enhancements coursing through me, my body is hot, clammy and the sweat pours from me, yet my blood runs cold.
Another imprecise human term that is inaccurate, flawed, but it is effective in its description of what I feel. These symptoms are the result of this demon dream that will never let me alone, to escape the memories.
Later, I know, I will experience similar symptoms but they will be lovingly bestowed upon me by this woman who now sleeps. For when she awakes, she will desire to please me. Such is her way.
I do not want to wake her; I love to watch her sleep. But as the dream wakes me, it normally disturbs her too. How I hate this recurring nightmare that never lets me forget what happened inside those walls of rock, that tomb of granite.
My lover has her head resting between my breasts and I sense her intake of breath, rather than feel or hear it.
“The nightmare again?” she softly, dreamily questions without moving, without rising, without opening her eyes.
“Yes.” My monosyllabic, dead response.
“Where the Captain died?” Her voice a gentle whisper but I hear the concern etched in every word.
“Always.”
I am emotionally exhausted, and I lay my head fully back, a dead weight captured in the comfort of the pillows, and I close my eyes.
My lover does not shift her body’s position but her hands slowly, sensuously move from their current location, partly lodged under my back, and snake their way upwards and stretching, to find their eventual haven behind each of my shoulder blades. A gentle embrace giving quiet, token support. She turns her face inwards, now facing into my chest, lodging in that gap between my breasts, and sensuously kisses the soft spot of damp skin there. She does not rush the kiss, her lips linger on my flesh and I happily abandon myself in her arms, allowing her weight to anchor me to the bed.
For this is a possessive lover who has claim to me, body and soul, and one whom I cannot give up, like some drug-induced, reliant abuser. She owns me. I do not care that I am so possessed by her, for I am in love with her. It is a love that she returns in equal measure.
And as I lie here, studying the shadows as they move across the ceiling with the approaching dawn, I think back and I can hear my Captain’s voice again. I hear that beautiful deep, husky timbre and those words she gifted to me in an attempt to ensure I would ‘love well’. She had wanted me to understand the value of real love and how it was not something to be evaluated in the same unemotional tones as efficiency and effectiveness.
I didn’t really know what love was when the Captain and I had entered those caves. But I knew its meaning when I left. In those very caves, I had asked her to tell me how one could distinguish the difference between love of a friend and that of the potential lover, and I can hear her voice now, as if yesterday, trying to explain to me how I would know I was in love ..
“You care for them more than you care for yourself, for your own needs. You don’t want to exist without them, they are your life ……never sell yourself short in love, Seven … be prepared to wait until that special person – the one - comes along and touches your heart ..really touches it, makes it sing. Don’t ever settle for second best.”
I want to cry out, ‘I haven’t, Captain! I haven’t settled for second best. I have found ‘the one’, the one you told me to wait patiently for.’
The quiet tears roll silently down my face, and my breath catches. Emotion overwhelms me once more, irrespective of the amount of times I return to this nightmare that holds me hostage.
“It’s only a nightmare,” my lover gently counsels, her voice lost somewhere between my breasts, her breath saturating and seeping into my skin, becoming a welcome part of me.
“It is always so real … I am back there .. alone .. and I feel the pain of loss again.”
I know my voice is charged with emotion, but I am incapable of containing it, of hiding it. She knows this. And I know that my dreams must hurt her too.
She once told me they did.
She hates that I dream this dream, and she hates what it does to me. I wish I did not always call out at the wakening from the nightmare, and I wish I did not always wake her .. but I always do.
She thinks the nightmares will subside in time. Maybe. Maybe not. I do not like to trouble her .. to cause her pain. It is not right that I should hurt the woman I love so much.
And as I lie here, trying to force the rhythm of my breathing back to some semblance of normality, the heavy clouds of blackened memories, contained in a mist of yesterday, return.
And I remember ….
The Past
All Captain Janeway could think about was the pain in her knees as she walked, and stumbled, over the rough, steep terrain, leading back up from the ‘Cavern of Celestial Lights’, towards the surface and the cave entrance. Despite the natural luminescent light which the cave walls eerily emitted, she needed to remain sharp and stay focused as she concentrated on lighting the uneven and rock-strewn trail in front of her with her wristlight.
The muscles in her thighs were tightening and the ache in them spread into her hips, across her lower back and abdomen. The two mile hike down into these caves had been physically demanding but the return journey was just sheer misery. It was amazing the muscles you discovered that were not ‘fit for purpose’, and Janeway had thought herself in peak physical condition!
‘So much for 24th century technology!’ she inwardly cursed, the recent ebullience of her mood beginning to sour. The transport system was unable to function within these coordinates due to the deposits of the mineral ‘V42’, present in the rock ore and which interfered with the transport signal. So whilst she had been quite happy to walk down to the celebrated celestial caves, .. well, damn the blasted mineral!
And who the hell names a mineral ‘V42’ anyway?
Janeway surreptitiously glanced over at Seven who looked the epitome of an Amazonian female warrior of legend, her athletic abilities and prowess cutting through the hardship of the return journey as if it were nothing but a gentle afternoon stroll through Indiana cornfields. Not one hair was out of place on the exquisite, blonde goddess of a woman, and not one indication that the ex Borg might have been struggling with the journey.
Janeway allowed the glance to stretch a little and she found herself analysing, for the thousandth time, the crystal beauty that was Seven of Nine. No matter how much Captain Janeway tried to deny it, or justify her thoughts as just some honourable, innocent appreciation of another crewmember, she knew in her heart, that what she felt for Seven was absolutely nothing that Star Fleet would ever condone from a Star Ship Captain. But as long as the thoughts and feelings stayed in her head .. or heart .. and did not transfer themselves to actual behaviour, then she was staying within the non-fraternisation policy of her employer.
In truth, not a day went by where the Captain did not enjoy being in the company of Seven, to feel her heartbeat increase and experience her whole sense of well being just lift completely off the scale. She was quite simply in love with the young woman, and had been for a considerable amount of time. Which was why Seven’s recent behaviour and social growth had caused Janeway to feel as if someone had reached inside and shredded her entire molecular structure.
Momentarily, Janeway’s focus was sharply brought back to the present as she carelessly tripped on a protruding piece of rock and had to quickly apply her ‘command presence’ in order to save face and stop herself going ‘arse over tit’.
To think, she had actually considered that this ‘pleasure trek’ with Seven, down to the depths of the Caves of Bejanya, would be both enjoyable and give her the badly needed opportunity to try and bond again with the young woman. She wanted to try and work out what exactly was bothering Seven, because something clearly was.
The Captain had become increasingly concerned about Seven. Not only had she become morose and withdrawn, but she was retreating back to the old ways of arrogance and superiority. Seven had always hidden behind such negative behaviour and this was just another indication to the Captain that something was very wrong.
Janeway didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the problem probably centred on Seven’s intense romantic relationship with Chakotay. The liaison was now into its fourth month and, until recently, had seemed to progress spectacularly well. This successful ‘union’, though Janeway hated to admit it, did not sit well with her, given her own personal feelings towards the younger woman.
The more her two Bridge officers had become involved, the more her relationship with Seven had diminished. As time had progressed, Captain Janeway had felt increasingly cast off and superfluous to need where Seven was concerned. It hadn’t been until their relationship had weakened, that Janeway had actually realised how important it had been to her. The senior officer had cursed herself at this realisation. So typical of her! Always too focused on the ‘present’, and on the ‘what had to be done now’, than to realise what was happening in the margins of her own life .. her personal life.
But this was her, so ‘Captain K Janeway’. It was the way she functioned, always had. She could never seem to concentrate on what was really important, necessary, to her – what she needed to be happy. The ‘professional’ Janeway always consumed the ‘personal’ Janeway. It was probably this lack of balance that had delivered a captaincy into her hands so early in her career.
What had once been an easy relationship between Seven and herself – give or take the odd immeasurable argument and the occasional desire to strangle the other – was now difficult, made up of forced, heavy conversation and an alarming new ability to misunderstand each other. This was something which had never, ever, existed before … even when their clashes had been at their worst.
It wasn’t just a case of Seven moving on to ‘greener pastures’, it felt to Janeway that Seven now resented her presence. Why?
This disconnection confused the Captain and it left her feeling disheartened and miserable. She hated the painful separation from Seven, which left her nursing a blackened void she simply could not fill.
Though outwardly the Captain could be easily described as self confident, extrovert, and outgoing, she was also very alone. When she went back to her quarters at the end of a shift, she was a single entity with no bonded connection to another, other than in the professional forum. With Seven, some of that loneliness and self isolation had been chipped away. Although Janeway would never have told another living soul, it had resulted in her feeling more a part of life, and had done much to disperse some of the depressions she seemed fated to sporadically suffer.
Fine! So she secretly harboured deep, very deep, feelings for Seven of Nine but she was no fool. Janeway had always thought ruefully, ‘In your dreams!’ when contemplating if she would ever have had any chance of anything beyond friendship, with Seven.
She wasn’t blind and couldn’t fail to recognise that Seven’s new found romantic intentions were clearly focused elsewhere, and very strongly, but did Seven have to so abrasive and blunt in showing the Captain that she now wanted her to play a considerably lesser role in her newly developing lifestyle? All Janeway wanted was to just show Seven that they could still remain friends. Kathryn would be happy to exist with any scraps of affection that Seven might throw her … just so long as Seven didn’t completely cut her off. She was that desperate.
The Commanding Officer thought back to her own recent time in sickbay, after the incident with Unimatrix Zero, and she recollected a subdued Seven quietly admitting that Axum had been more than a friend. Although she had not shown anything, Janeway’s heart had ‘crash dived’ on hearing those words. It was difficult enough to find yourself loving someone from a distance, unable to move forward because of command responsibilities and also knowing that Seven would never reciprocate, but to have the woman confide such things to you?
Then, when Commander Chakotay had started pursuing Seven, and Janeway had witnessed the romantic interest returned, the Captain had experienced such an intense feeling of both emptiness and isolation. She had found herself slowly turning away from Seven, as a kind of protective, defensive mechanism. Not that the young woman had even noticed! Consequently, both women had drifted painfully apart.
Turning her attentions back to the present, here she was now, on a failed ‘let’s bond again’ mission, with her own increasingly bad mood not being helped in any shape or form by her companion. Seven was nothing short of morose and ill communicative throughout the entire trip. Hell, the Captain could have got more conversation out of a monk from Talhanner .. and they were a silent order!
So she kept trudging up the increasingly steep route home, her mind torn between the radiant beauty at her side, and stopping herself from falling and breaking her neck.
“You didn’t have to come, you know,” Captain Janeway said as she glanced at Seven who was positively ambling her way through the natural labyrinths of rock, her flashlight revealing the path before them.
“You requested my presence.” The response was blunt and unemotional, the ex-Borg not taking her eyes from the route.
“No,” the Captain said pointedly, “I asked if you’d like to accompany me. There’s a subtle difference.” Janeway sighed, slightly exasperated.
This expedition and golden opportunity to see the incredible natural abundance of stalagmites and stalactites, borne of a thousand years, was supposed to have been an opening to help lift Seven out of the depression and unusual melancholy from which she was currently suffering. Despite the long walk down to the main chamber, to view the tectonic cave formations, nothing this journey had offered had done anything to lift the spirits of the younger woman.
“You could have said no.” Janeway followed up.
Seven momentarily stopped walking, did not respond but simply chose to look at the smaller woman as if she had spouted a second head. The strategy of no response was wholly characteristic of this entire day and the Captain had to restrain herself from groaning out loud. Whatever was upsetting Seven, was clearly festering away inside her but she was not yet ready to share these problems with her captain.
“Come on Seven, you can’t tell me you don’t appreciate the beauty of this? This will end up being one of the wonders of the universe!” The smaller woman was determined to get some feedback out of the astrometrics officer.
The feedback was forthcoming!
“I fail to see the excitement in a display of caves that have been geologically formed by the dissolving action of acidic groundwater.” Deadpan response.
“Oh, the heart of a poet!” Janeway said facetiously.
“Not just caves, Seven .. magnificent, glorious examples of nature’s handiwork. The main chamber … you could have parked Voyager in there and still had room for a dog kennel!” Was Seven being deliberately obtuse?
“Come on, admit it, those stalactites were outstanding and when we turned the flashlights off, you saw the way the entire chamber glowed.” The Captain had spent much of her life in space but could still recognise an overwhelming, awe-inspiring, feat of natural engineering when nose-to-nose with one. The two mile walk down had been worth it.
“A rock is a rock, Captain, regardless of its luminescent quality.” Seven walked on ahead, not bothering to look at Janeway.
“Oh, you’re a hard one to crack, Seven.” Janeway panted despondently.
The Captain decided to take another tack and brave unchartered waters, in the sure knowledge that she was probably about to encounter ‘rough seas’ and ‘tempest storms’.
“You know, Seven, if you want to talk to me about what’s worrying you, what’s on your mind .. I’m here.”
“You assume something is on my mind?” Seven emphasised the last few words, the intonation of her voice ice cold in its intensity.
The Captain, realising that this would not be an easy conversation, stopped walking and placed a hand on a hip.
“Truthfully, Seven? Yes, I do. You’ve been distant and remote lately, your work isn’t of its usual high calibre … and you’re unapproachable and morose! ”
She paused as if considering the next choice of words. Time to go straight for the jugular. “And I think it’s got something to do with you and Chakotay.”
Seven, who had also stopped, now turned on the Captain defensively.
“He has spoken to you about our relationship!” Words so full of hostility and aggression, Seven clearly did not like the perceived intrusion into her privacy.
Well, that hit a nerve!
“No, Seven, he hasn’t said anything to me, but I’d have to be blind to not recognise that something is very wrong between the two of you. Chakotay’s not himself and is walking around as if someone has murdered his spirit guide!”
Seven stared at Janeway, angling the flashlight towards her. “This is none of your business!” The tone oozed warning.
The smaller woman stood her ground.
“No, it isn’t, except that you are my friend, I care for you and I don’t like to see you hurting like this.”
No response. Silence.
“Seven, all I’m trying to say is if you want to talk about this, now or later, .. I’m here.” The calm words were spoken with infinite gentleness and compassion.
The tall, slim woman walked back a few paces towards the Captain and leaned in towards her until their faces were very close. Seven’s eyes locked onto the Captain’s, who had seen more warmth in a block of ice.
“Thank you, Captain. I do not wish to talk about this.” Seven then turned and began the ascent back towards the surface.
“Gotcha!” Janeway muttered to herself, turning to follow the woman. ‘Well, that went well, Kathryn,’ the small inner voice mocked.
*****
Standard operating procedures for assessing and evaluating the safety of the planet’s terrain and geostructure had been followed and no problems highlighted. So it came as an enormous surprise to both women when the earthquake hit, along with its accompanying rockfall and land movement. The power of the natural phenomenon hit with frightening speed, an alarming cacophony of noise and a tumble of rock.
Captain Janeway, blinded by the thick dust that temporarily robbed her of breath, lost her footing and balance, ending up prostrate on the ground and biting dust. Within seconds, the movement of the ground and surrounding rock had ceased, resulting in an eerie silence. Realigning the fitting of the wristlight, she struggled to her feet, unharmed, looking for Seven.
The young woman was half kneeling, half slumped, over a newly formed deposit of rock. Though still conscious, she appeared stunned and held her Borg enhanced hand against the left side of her forehead.
A brief, fleeting sensation of restrained panic surged through the tough and wiry form of the older woman as her flashlight focused on the ‘downed’ Seven. With an amazing alacrity, Janeway moved agilely over the rocks strewn in her way to get to Seven.
“Seven ..” Though in control, she could not hide the concern in her voice, as she stumbled towards the bowed form. “Are you okay .. you hurt?”
The smaller woman’s arm went immediately around the shoulders of Seven and Janeway mentally registered how slender and almost skeletal the young woman was. It always troubled her that Seven was still so thin, even now, after all the years away from the merciless, brutal clutches of the Borg.
It only took the touch of the Captain to force Seven to immediately straighten, and pull away from the contact as if burned. She did not welcome this familiarity, nor require it. It made her feel uncomfortable.
Though keenly aware of the Captain’s concern for her well-being, she pushed away and stood as rapidly as she could, to avoid the woman’s close proximity. Glancing at Janeway, who had also retreated, sensing the discomfort, “I am functioning, Captain. The blow to my head is minor and the nanoprobes will repair any deficiency.” Everything was stated in a very matter-of-fact way. “Do not be alarmed … please.”
Standing erect, Seven wiped her forehead and studied the small amount of blood which had accumulated on her hand.
Captain Janeway turned her wristlight towards the young woman’s face to highlight and then verify, to her own satisfaction, that the injury was indeed not serious. She saw Seven’s eyes watching her as she made the examination. The eyes seemed to probe her, almost reproachful and condemning in their cold glance, warning her that she had again overstepped the fine line of familiarity.
“Good.” Janeway quickly asserted her command demeanour to hide her feelings.
The Captain subconsciously rubbed the fingers of her right hand together, fingers that had, only moments ago, been touching the other woman. The loss of the physical connection made her feel distinctly empty and only served to remind her that she seemed to be losing, minute by minute, the special relationship with Seven that she valued so very much. In a fleeting moment, Janeway found herself hating the relationship between her First Officer and this woman. None of this mess had existed before that blossoming association. Damn it!
“Call it instinct, Seven, but I think the faster we get out of these caves, the better.”
“An understatement, Captain,”
Then, almost as if an after thought, the cool, unemotional Seven enquired, “You have not sustained injury?” She continued to pick up the emergency supplies and tricorder.
Oh, thanks for asking! “I’m okay, Seven. No damage done. Now let’s ...”
But the reply was cut short and went unfinished as a second, more powerful tremor hit them with phenomenal force and severity. The ground beneath their feet erupted with the seismic activity and cave walls began crumbling and sliding, in their move towards the ground. The air became instantly thick with dust, as rocks were spat across the increasingly smaller area and sent crashing down around them. The thunderous roar of the quake was deafening.
Captain Janeway, her arms flaying about her in an attempt to remain upright, in a split second saw a section of cave roofing split away over their heads. Without thought for her own safety, she dived towards Seven, roughly pushing her out of the line of the falling rock. Seven found herself being forcefully projected into a nosedive, downwards into rough, ragged, recently spewed rock, and then everything went black.
*****
Seven regained consciousness, perhaps less than a minute later, to a vision of what seemed at first, total blackness and complete silence. Slowly, she began to register the sound of a small piece of rock gently rolling its course towards the ground.
Momentarily disorientated, the young woman took a while to regain her faculties and bearing, as she slowly recalled the earthquake. With moderate discomfort, she threw some debris off her body, as she struggled to free herself, turning her attentions immediately to finding the Captain.
Grappling for her wristlight and struggling to her knees, she coughed, removing fine rock dust from her lungs.
“Captain, are you alright?” Still struggling with the light, which didn’t seem to want to work, she was forced to still her own movements in an attempt to verify the Captain’s whereabouts.
“Captain!” she called again, an edge of alarm registering.
“Over here, Seven.” The Astrometrics Officer stood and followed the trail of sound as she listened to the Captain, who was also coughing, trying to clear her own airways before asking, “You okay, Seven?” The voice suggested alertness.
“I am unhurt and have suffered only a few insignificant abrasions.” Seven continued fiddling again with the defective flashlight and this time was rewarded with a flickering, but sufficient, beam of light from the instrument. It shed a strong enough beam for Seven to see Captain Janeway, who was pinned forcefully to the ground under a significant amount of rock, her body lying awkwardly.
“I can’t move, Seven. I seem to have had an argument with a few hundred tons of rocks, and guess who won?” The Captain sounded well enough but as
Seven moved over to her, she could see that a large slab-like piece of rock had pinned the Captain’s legs, and there was a considerable amount of smaller debris lying across the Captain’s chest. She began quickly assessing the problem and evaluating how best to free the officer.
“Captain, is your wristlight functioning? Mine has sustained damage.”
Janeway tried to laugh but had to give in to the dust in her lungs, managing to cough a response. “I don’t know, Seven. Find my wrist and I’ll let you know!”
Seven looked at the trapped woman and realised that, apart from her legs, the entire left side of her body was pinned and covered with rubble. The ex Borg searched the Captain’s face, trying to establish if she was hurt. Seven would not expect Janeway to tell her if she was in pain, such was the stubborn nature of the woman.
“Can you manage my light and focus it on these rocks while I move them?”
Janeway reached out for the light with her free right arm.
Seven set about removing the rubble from the woman’s body. It was as she started to lift a fractured chunk of rock off the Captain’s legs, she saw the woman flinch in some discomfort but who said nothing. Seven quietly assimilated the reserved display of pain, and without raising attention to it, slowed down her actions, moving the rocks more gently.
A short time later, Seven stood back, mildly out of breath and coughing, but having successfully removed all the rock from the Captain. However, despite the transference of the rubble and weight, the woman on the ground did not move and when Seven took her wristlight back off the prostrate officer, she quickly identified why.
Slipping to her knees, she balanced the light on a piece of rock and ran her hands very carefully over the other woman’s legs, aware that as she did so, Janeway sucked in air and exhaled heavily.
“Your right leg is broken, Captain, and the bone has pierced the skin. Your left leg also seems to have sustained some damage and is already considerably swollen although I am unable to detect any fractures. Have you received injuries elsewhere?”
The younger woman began running her hands over the rest of the Captain’s body in an attempt to assess further damage. She could feel a tension in the injured woman who pushed probing hands away as they moved towards her stomach and chest area.
“Oh don’t fuss, Seven. Just a few broken bones and the air knocked out of me. Nothing the doctor won’t be able to fix in due course.” The smaller but robust woman made light of the injuries.
“That brings me to an observation, Captain.”
“Which is?”
Seven had already stood and was surveying the area, noting that the rock fall had cut off any means of escape, and that they were trapped. However, the relatively small area in which they were sealed did appear to be sufficiently safe, for the time being. Seven found herself hoping there would be no further tremors.
“The mineral deposits within the rock formation make it impossible to beam out .. or in, and communication is also not possible.”
“We know this, Seven.” Mild exasperation borne of discomfort.
“I am merely highlighting that it will take a rescue party some considerable time to locate and rescue us.”
Janeway groaned, “That’s what I like about you, Seven. Your inherent ability to lift sagging spirits when needed.”
“I am merely being factual and accurate. Do you wish otherwise?” A light tone of arrogance coloured the words.
“Seven ..” the Captain’s voice was characteristically teasing and light, “it’s your factual, correct interpretations that sustain my levels of hope!” She started to cough again, clearing the dust from her lungs.
“You are being sarcastic, Captain,” she stated with an air of superiority and intolerance.
“Yes.”
“It is the lowest form of wit. It does not suit you.”
“I’ll remember that.” Suitably chastised!
“Now, Seven, do you think you could at least move me somewhere a little more comfortable, while we wait to be rescued?”
Seven had noted an area of ground over to the right hand corner of their temporary new lodgings, which was sufficiently flat. Returning her attentions to the Captain, she bent to gently pick the smaller, lightweight woman up in her arms, noting that as she did, Janeway bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Concerned, “I will be as careful as I can, Captain. As soon as I have made you comfortable, I will search for the tricorder and emergency supplies.”
Janeway could only nod as the pain restricted her ability to respond.
*****
Seven had tried unsuccessfully to locate the tricorder and the emergency supplies that Starfleet regulations demanded any away-team always take on missions. Further, what had remained of Janeway’s wristlight was no good to man nor beast as it was smashed to pieces, leaving Seven to marvel that the Captain’s arm had been totally unscathed. The one remaining flashlight, Seven’s, had given out a few hours ago, the damage irreparable, leaving them both with just the natural luminescence of the cave interior.
The Astrometrics Officer now sat on the ground with her back up against the side of the cave wall, the Captain lying about a metre to her right, apparently sleeping or resting, but either way, very quiet. The uneasy, earlier attempt at conversation, initiated by Janeway, had failed and dried up some time ago.
Studying what she could make out of their stone tomb, Seven thought back to the conversation she had had with the Captain earlier. Janeway’s husky voice buffeted around her eidetic memory.
“We should consider ourselves lucky to have survived this. Let’s hope no more tremors hit before we’re rescued.”
Seven had known that the Captain was trying to be deliberately upbeat, in an attempt to make light of their not-so-good circumstances. Both of them knew that one more tremor could bring the cave down on top of them. If that happened, they wouldn’t make it out alive.
Despite this, Seven had been in a petulant mood and had felt no desire to be charitable towards her commanding officer, despite Janeway’s injuries.
“We would have been ‘luckier’ if we had not attempted this excursion in the first place … as Tuvok advised.”
The tone of accusation was strong but if Janeway heard, she chose to ignore it.
“The trouble with Tuvok is he doesn’t know how to enjoy himself!”
“Are you ‘enjoying’ yourself now, Captain?” The ex Borg’s tone was dour, serious and unforgiving.
The Captain had started to reply but had suddenly been overcome by a fit of coughing as she attempted to rid herself of the dust particles in her throat and on her lungs. Though the interruption had only lasted a few seconds, it had been enough to bring the uncomfortable conversation to a close.
Lying there thinking, Seven quietly berated herself for her inappropriate behaviour towards the Captain, both in these caves and for the previous few months. Her obvious rejection of the Captain’s earlier assistance, when Seven had been stunned by the first quake, had been both unappealing and unnecessary. Regrettably, it was also unavoidable.
The young woman, part human and part Borg, had recently discovered that being near the Captain, actually caused her great discomfort and pain. Not the type of pain brought about by a wound or an illness, but something more unfathomable, in that it defied accurate description. It was a pain that played with her emotions, caused her to become reserved, withdrawn and solitary, carving into her a feeling of something missing, something indefinable, intangible and elusive, but there nevertheless.
Being near the Captain! Seven scoffed at the irony of that thought. Despite the woman’s professional, and on some level personal, approachability, the real essence that was Kathryn Janeway was, and always had been, unobtainable and elusive.
Seven’s discomfort and hurt arose from the slowly dawning realisation that as her own relationship with Chakotay had developed, Janeway had retreated from her on the deeper personal level and had ceased to tender that mentorship advice she had once so freely given.
So what advice had Seven wanted at the time?
Seven didn’t really know the answer to this question but she had increasingly wanted the Captain to show .. interest? Yes, show interest .. in the simple fact that she was dating Chakotay. She wanted Janeway to ask her to consider why she was dating Chakotay, to ask her to consider if Chakotay was indeed a suitable mate, to ask Seven if she fully realised the consequences of entering a romantic liaison, to ask Seven if she needed advice …
Seven breathed out hard. ‘Damn it,’ she thought, using one of the Captain’s favourite expletives. She had wanted Janeway to show some emotion with regard to her interest in Chakotay, not the weak, paltry acceptance she had actually displayed!
Didn’t Janeway care what she did? Was she tired of being her mentor? Was she so happy to allow Chakotay to take over her role .. and more? This all angered Seven! Unreasonable and irrational thoughts, and emanating from where?
She was confused!
Seven had wanted a relationship with Chakotay. She had become increasingly attracted to him and had encouraged their eventual relationship. He had found her attractive, still did, and Seven wasn’t sure why but she found that response from him most acceptable. He would say things to her that no one else ever had, and it made her feel connected and a part of this human existence to which she was slowly becoming reacquainted.
Chakotay would tell her that her long blond hair reminded him of the summer sunshine cutting through the forest trees, reflecting light off the leaves and projecting golden slithers of radiance onto the woodland pathways of his home planet.
A gentle man, Chakotay had a way with such words and although she could not understand why he would compare her with such things of considered beauty, she knew his words to be sincere. His attentions made her feel special, made her feel as though she really belonged to the human race. They made her desire a physical connection.
Or so they had in the beginning.
It was after a few months into their relationship when everything had been going so efficiently, .. vigorously. They regularly copu ..no! ‘made love’, as Chakotay preferred to call it, and it had been both ‘interesting’ and enjoyable. But then, for no apparent reason, Seven started to be aware of Captain Janeway’s absence in her personal life.
Professionally, she and the Captain still interacted in the same way, although Seven chanced to observe that the Captain seemed sadder than usual. Seven always perceived a base level of sadness, a sorrow, in the woman which never went away and the younger woman could only speculate why it existed. But it did.
She had been aware of rare, little throw away comments usually with regard to facts surrounding the deaths of crew members during this journey through the Delta Quadrant. It was obvious to Seven, that the Captain suffered immensely from their loss and though she would seldom speak of these things, one always knew the perceived guilt was just a subconscious layer away from the woman’s day-to-day thoughts.
Since her relationship with the First Officer, as time had progressed, Seven had increasingly noticed that when ever she dealt with the Captain, there was an imponderable sense of something not connected, not right.
The Captain always seemed to be holding back just a little. Seven’s imagination? And when Janeway spoke to Seven, the smaller woman’s tone and attentive gaze was always as if she were communicating with a spectre, a ghost, .. something that used to be .. but wasn’t any more. Janeway would often move as if to say something, hesitate, and then say nothing.
So often now, Seven found that when they parted, she had a deep, resounding feeling that words had been left unsaid – something important that should have been voiced, hadn’t. These feelings always lingered with Seven and progressively disturbed her usually calm demeanour, making her restless but she never knew why, and she never sought to discuss this with Chakotay, even though she shared many previous unspoken, intimate thoughts and concerns with him.
She suddenly found herself questioning why she had not discussed her own relationship with Janeway, ever, with Chakotay?
And again, over time, Seven found herself beginning to resent the Captain. Why? It was because of the things the Captain didn’t do. She didn’t interfere with her relationship with Chakotay … but Seven wanted her to.
Why could Seven make no sense of this?
So Seven had unconsciously found herself pushing Janeway away, as if to provoke a backlash of action from the Captain! Why did she want to do this?
Seven’s attention was suddenly brought back to the present as the Captain started to cough again.
Though not loud, the sound of the coughing sliced through the silence of the cave, and as it abated, Seven again found herself listening to the returned wave of nothingness. She hated silence! She abhorred its stillness and calm.
Eighteen years a member of a collective, with the constancy of noise in her mind, to then be cut off from it. It had been extremely traumatic. The seven years since had gone someway to alleviate her discomfort with individuality and the personal silence that brought. But on occasion, events like these, made her feel very uncomfortable and alone. Although she would never tell anyone, silence frightened her.
Often, when the peace of the cargo bay became too much for her, she would escape to one of the unoccupied shafts near the engineering spaces and just sit there unseen, listening to the background hum of the warp engines. If she closed her eyes and if she concentrated long enough, the hum became the calming voices of the collective again .. sometimes. It was where she had first learned to sleep as humans do, the whine and the purr of the engines mesmerising her into a light slumber. It was her secret place!
But for now, she concentrated on the sound of the other woman breathing, which gave her some comfort. A few minutes later, a voice shattered the silence into fragments.
“Seven?”
“Captain?”
Seven heard the other woman hesitate a little.
“Seven, I’m sorry .. but I’m really cold.” Subtle, but an implied request for help.
Regrettably, the brief years of humanity could not stop the analytical conditioning of Seven’s Borg persona from cutting in.
“The ambient temperature within these caves is a steady 52 degrees Fahrenheit, Captain.”
The Borg words were cold, analytical, devoid of emotion and sensitivity. Almost as she said them, Seven instantly regretted the words, and her remorse did not find fulfilment as she heard the Captain’s voice again, this time edged with tension and .. vulnerability?
As if trying to justify and apologise, “It’s probably the leg injury .. not being able to move .. but I’m really cold, Seven.” Contritely, “Bit of a circulation problem, probably.” You could almost hear the shiver in the Captain’s voice despite her half hearted attempt at a laugh to cover her embarrassment.
Regretting her insensitive comment, Seven immediately ‘pushed away’ her Borg primacy, allowing her sensitive human side to advance to the fore. She was only too aware from past experience that the Captain would never admit to this level of discomfort unless it was becoming unbearable.
“I apologise, Captain.” Seven stood up, then moved hesitantly, nervously towards the disabled woman. “It might help if I move closer to you, my body will provide you with heat.”
“Good idea.” The response oozed gratitude, and something in that retort made Seven feel very low, almost unworthy. Janeway knew that neither of them particularly wanted this level of intimacy and closeness, each for their own reasons, but unfortunately, circumstances now dictated otherwise.
Gingerly sliding herself behind the Captain, Seven rested her back against a boulder and then, slowly lifting the woman up towards her, she carefully slid both of her legs either side of the Captain’s body. Careful to avoid the other woman’s injured legs, she gently supported Janeway, allowing her to lie against her chest.
What might have been an embarrassment for one or the other, did not become so, but the Captain this time was completely unable to restrain herself from crying out as she was moved and her head momentarily pushed back, as she fought to contain the pain.
“I hurt you, Captain.” Genuine concern was embedded in the younger woman’s voice.
Janeway tried to answer but only managed to emit a low moan, then coughed a couple of times.
“No …” The Captain breathed slightly heavily, “ .. just the leg.” And maybe a broken rib or two?
“Thank you, Seven.”