JUBILEE
It was the last night of shore leave and a sudden storm on-planet had prevented
the usual last night party from going ahead as planned. Instead, Captain
Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship USS Voyager had given permission for
one of the holodecks to be used to create a beach setting on board.
The holographic suns were just beginning to set and various colourfully-dressed
members of her crew were disporting themselves on the sand or standing around
the grill on which Neelix, the ship's Talaxian morale officer, was grilling
hamburgers, hotdogs, steaks and other, less readily identifiable, items.
Kathryn had spent the day down on the planet trying to teach her Astrometrics
officer and lover of the past two weeks, Seven of Nine, how to bodysurf. There
seemed to be something about Seven's body mass, perhaps her remaining Borg
implants, which made her less than buoyant although, Kathryn thought, she had
taken her numerous dunkings in good part.
Their lesson had attracted quite a few spectators, although Kathryn was prepared
to concede that this probably had less to do with her instructional abilities
than it did with how Seven looked in a swimsuit. The way she looked had
certainly produced an effect upon Kathryn and she had taken advantage of the
need to support Seven's body in the water to steal a few caresses of those
incredible curves. She did not really appreciate the interested audience which
prevented her from doing more.
After a while, she grew tired of entertaining her crew and had herself and Seven
transported to a deserted cove five kilometres up the beach. There, she smiled
to recall, her caresses had grown more bold and she eventually abandoned even
the pretence of teaching Seven to surf, instead stripping off her swimsuit and
making love to her in the warm mildly salty water as sunlight beat down from an
achingly blue sky.
Now, slightly flushed from the sun and gritty with dried salt, an immensely
satisfied Janeway lay with her head resting on Seven's lap as the taller woman
leaned against a fallen log. She stretched like a cat and, as she watched the
holographic suns set, a slight cool breeze began to play along the beach,
causing her to shiver momentarily in her shorts and t shirt. Instantly, Seven
leaned down over her with a concerned look.
"Kathryn, are you becoming chilled? Shall I replicate something warmer for you
to wear?"
"No thank you, darling. Someone just walked over my grave."
Seven looked around her wildly.
"It's just an expression Seven, nothing to be worried about."
Just then Neelix arrived with two plates of food. He wore an elaborate apron
which exhorted everyone to "kiss the cook". Kathryn sat up and took her plate
before giving the odd little creature an affectionate smile.
"If you've got cold beer to go with this, I really might take your apron's
advice." Smiling delightedly, he reached into the pockets of his apron and
produced two icy bottles of Klingon ale, which he opened and handed to them with
a small bow.
It was then that he noticed Seven of Nine looking at him rather narrowly, no
doubt wondering if the Captain would indeed kiss him He decided he should make
good his escape and did so with the parting remark that perhaps Janeway could
get a "kiss the Captain" apron. Seven glared at his retreating form before
leaning over to kiss Kathryn lightly on the lips: "She does not need one," she
called after him.
******
Later than night, a showered and refreshed Janeway was entwined with her
Astrometrics officer on the couch in her quarters.
In the two weeks that they had been lovers, Kathryn had lost count of the number
of times they had made love. She only knew that it never seemed to be quite
often enough and that merely looking at Seven was enough to set her heart
pounding.
It made her blush to recall the fears and insecurities which had prevented her
from acting on her feelings for the younger woman for so long. When she finally
did act, her crew and the senior staff all took it completely in stride and her
fears had proved groundless.
Strangely, the strongest resistance to the idea that she and Seven might become
lovers had come from Seven herself. Although she freely admitted she loved
Kathryn, she too was worried that their being together might somehow impede
Kathryn's command, which Seven said she knew meant everything to Kathryn.
It was only when Kathryn informed her that she would stand down from command
rather than go on without her that Seven had relented and finally, finally
allowed Kathryn to kiss her. As Kathryn recalled, they had both almost swooned
from the potent combination of great relief and extreme lust embodied in that
first kiss and they seemed scarcely to have stopped kissing since.
And that's just what they were doing right now, except Seven was being unusually
unresponsive, returning Kathryn's more passionate kisses and caresses with
lighter, softer responses. It was driving Kathryn crazy and she broke off her
kisses to sigh in frustration.
"Don't you want to make love darling?" Kathryn had assumed what she hoped was a
suitably tragic expression.
"Resistance is fertile," Seven announced with a smile.
"Darling, I think that Klingon ale effected your cortical implant. Don't you
mean 'futile' and anyway I'm not exactly resisting you know," Janeway grumbled.
"No, I mean fertile, as in fruitful or productive. And it is not you who is
resisting, my love, it is me." Seven's smile, impossibly, seemed to get wider.
"So your resisting me is fruitful?" Janeway asked sceptically.
"Oh yes, Kathryn. I have found that if I make you wait for what you want it
arouses us both much more than if I surrender to you immediately. It seems to
bring out your competitive instincts. Sometimes I like you to make love to me
when you are less than cool and in command of yourself. You are so much more
aggressive then. You have this air of gritty desperation that I find completely
irresistible."
Kathryn had begun lightly pinching Seven's nipples through the thin silky fabric
of her robe: "So you're telling me that you're a tease? A tease by design and
intention," she said in her deepest voice.
Seven looked down at Kathryn's hands moving against her breasts and gulped:
"Well, yes, Kathryn, that is what I am telling you. And that you enjoy it when
I tease you."
A plan had taken shape in Kathryn's mind and she stood abruptly.
"Take off your robe and go and lay down on my bed. Wait for me there."
Her husky tone brooked no disagreement and Seven, intrigued anyway, hastened to
obey.
When she had left the room, Kathryn crossed to the replicator and ordered
herself a scotch and soda, which she sipped in a leisurely way as she sat on the
couch, leaving Seven to her thoughts.
When Kathryn eventually went into the bedroom, she was met by the sight of a
completely naked and highly aroused Seven of Nine. She walked straight past her
and into the bathroom, emerging a few moments later dressed in her full uniform,
right down to the pips on her collar.
She walked over to Seven, sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand.
"You have told me two interesting things tonight Seven. One is that resistance
is fertile and the other is that you like it when I am not in command of myself.
I'm going to show you how fertile resistance can be when I am in command of both
myself and you."
Seven looked up at her wide eyed.
"Here's what I want you to do. I am going to make love to you with my mouth."
Seven moaned softly at this.
"I want you, whenever you think that you might be close to coming, to tap my
shoulder so that I stop what I am doing. You can think about Astrometrics
equations, or Neelix naked or whatever it takes to get you past the moment. I
want you to try not to come, do you understand?"
Seven nodded wordlessly, but gasped as Kathryn stepped around to the end of the
bed and grasped her ankles to pull her down toward the foot of the bed before
kneeling and pushing her knees forcefully apart.
******
Seven had lost all track of time. She didn't know how long she had withstood
the exquisite torture Kathryn was putting her through and she didn't really
care. The universe had shrunk to the sensation of Kathryn's tongue against her
and she felt every nuance of Kathryn's touch, every flutter of her breath
against the heated flesh; her whole sex feeling alight with sensation.
She was panting lightly and liquid streamed from her as her whole body trembled
continuously. She had tapped Kathryn on the shoulder at least eight times that
she could recall, the first time only moments after Kathryn's tongue had first
touched her. She had never before felt as completely aroused as she did now,
trembling on the very brink of ecstasy. She had begun to softly repeat
Kathryn's name and two other words: "Kathryn, please, now."
Kathryn had never been able to refuse her ex-Borg anything when she said
"please" and she wasn't planning on starting with this.
So when Seven tapped Kathryn's shoulder yet again, instead of pulling back,
Kathryn slid two fingers into her and began pumping them in and out as she
increased the force and speed of her tongue. Seven gasped Kathryn's name over
and over as an unbelievably intense orgasm burst through her and she began
convulsing uncontrollably around the fingers that plunged into her. It was only
when the writhing body beneath her dissolved into sparkles of light that Kathryn
was aware that they were being transported.
******
"Get away from her, Janeway. How dare you touch her like that. She is mine."
Kathryn looked up to see the Borg Queen, clearly utterly furious, standing over
she and Seven, whose body was still shuddering with orgasm. Kathryn eased her
fingers out of Seven and quickly stripped off her command tunic and tried to
cover the young woman with it, leaning forward and whispering something in
Seven's ear as she did so.
"I told you to get away from her," the Queen shrieked. "What did you say to
her?"
Janeway looked insolently at her: "I told her I loved her and not to be afraid."
The Queen snapped a glance at two of the drones who stood impassively around the
edge of the chamber and they stepped forward to grasp Kathryn's upper arms and
pull her back and away from Seven. The Queen then stepped over to Seven and
sank to her knees beside her. Seven sat up and cringed away from her, still
clutching Kathryn's tunic to her.
The Queen pulled at Kathryn's tunic impatiently, her strange eyes alight with
lust: "Seven of Nine, you will comply," she hissed.
Seven's expression was one of undiluted horror as she looked from the Queen to
Kathryn and back again, all the while clutching Kathryn's tunic and whimpering
softly in fear.
"Enough of your false modesty. You are mine and I intend to have you, all of
you. I have searched the quadrant for you and that pathetic vessel. It is
destiny that I should find it, and you, today, the day of my jubilee. On this
day four hundred years ago I became Queen of the Borg. I took responsibility
for shaping our perfection and in all that time I have never shared my lot with
any one creature."
Kathryn drawled at her: "Four hundred years, what's that, the untold misery and
suffering anniversary? I think sentient beings everywhere should offer up a
prayer of thanks to their gods that you've never shared yourself with anyone.
You are cruel and disgusting."
"Be silent." She glanced again at the drones holding Kathryn and one of them
put his hand over her mouth.
"Let go of that tunic or they will assimilate her right now. Comply."
Seven wordlessly handed the tunic to the Queen, who dropped it beside her and
then, still kneeling, took Seven's hand and then ran her free hand lasciviously
up and down Seven's naked body.
"You are lovely and will be mine. Seven of Nine, on this the occasion of my
quatercentenary jubilee, you will become my primary adjunct. I have decided to
do you the honour of making you my consort."
Seven looked stunned and could only stare bleakly at Kathryn struggling
fruitlessly against the drones who were holding her.
"Take that away," the Queen said cruelly, looking contemptuously at Kathryn and
flinging the tunic at her. "Come with me Seven of Nine, you must prepare."
******
Kathryn was thrown into what she assumed was an assimilation chamber and her
tunic was thrown after her. Blood and various types of tissue clotted the
surfaces of what looked like surgical tables and instruments, though she was
sickened to realise that there was no sign of any equipment designed for
anaesthesia. The Borg obviously extracted organic material from their victims
while they were conscious. Her stomach lurched as she realised that Seven's
left arm had been severed below the elbow and her left eye had been removed when
she was assimilated as a child. She wondered if Seven remembered what must have
been an agonising and terrifying experience.
Kathryn forced her eyes away from the tray of instruments, forced herself to
focus. She was determined to take Seven away from them. She would rather die
than allow them to hurt her ever again.
******
It was late into the Gamma shift and Harry Kim had the bridge. It was only his
third command rotation but he was finally getting a grip on the butterflies that
swarmed in his stomach every time he sat in the Captain's chair.
The Bolian Ensign Golwat manned the Ops station and Kim almost jumped out of his
chair when she announced that she was receiving a signal and that it was on a
Borg frequency.
"Red alert. Start scanning for Borg vessels. Hail the senior staff."
Golwat looked stunned: "Ensign, the sender of this message says she's Captain
Janeway."
"On screen."
"I've got audio only."
"Play audio."
Just then Commanders Chakotay and Tuvok arrived on the bridge and Harry, who had
dreamed for years of taking command, was glad to relinquish it.
Less than ten minutes after the Captain had hailed Voyager, all the senior staff
barring the Captain and Seven of Nine were gathered in the briefing room to
evaluate the situation and to try to work out how they might implement the
Captain's daring plan.
Paris and Kim were to take the Delta Flyer, under Tuvok's command, to within
transporter range of the sphere, which was stationary on the far side of the
planet. The storm on-planet had obviously obstructed their sensors and allowed
the sphere to approach undetected. They hoped that the same tactic might work
for them, particularly if they went into the planet's atmosphere.
No one seemed able to understand why the sphere had not either moved off or
launched an attack against Voyager, but they were all flabbergasted by the news
that the Borg Queen had decided to make Seven her consort.
The Captain had not been able to speak to them for long and they, at her
insistence, had not been able to respond at all until they had changed their
communications frequency to a Borg carrier wave.
The Captain had quickly explained that Seven had managed to adapt an
assimilation tubule to alter the Captain's comm badge to a Borg frequency and
she told them she hoped this would prevent the drones from detecting their
communications.
Torres muttered: ""I didn't realise tubules came with...attachments."
Chakotay cast her a warning glance as the Captain's voice went on. She was
quite specific about what she wanted them to do and was dismissive of the danger
to Seven and herself, informing them that they would both rather die than become
drones.
******
Janeway tapped the comm badge concealed under her tunic as the Queen moved
toward her. They, along with Seven of Nine and the usual impassive drones,
stood in the sphere's central chamber.
"This will be my wedding gift to you, my love," the Queen leered at Seven, who
stood garbed in a strange metallic looking bodysuit. "Once I assimilate her,
you will see that there is nothing exceptional about her. She is one, she is
small, she is irrelevant."
At that moment a voice announced that a vessel had been detected and to prepare
for assimilation. A view screen showed Voyager, firing banks of phasers and
photon torpedoes at the sphere.
The Queen spun to look at Janeway. "They are fools, they should have tried to
escape even though they would have failed. I had planned that you would assist
in assimilating your crew, Janeway, but they have saved me the trouble of
hunting them down to do so. Activate the tractor beam."
All power was directed to the sphere's forward shields as the beam locked onto a
still firing Voyager. A signal beeped from Paris' console aboard the Delta
Flyer, stationed to the stern of the sphere, and he crossed his fingers and
activated the transporter.
Janeway suddenly dropped to the ground and rolled toward something materialising
on the deck in front of her. She stood in one smooth motion and leapt at the
Queen, slapping her hard between the shoulder blades.
The Queen flung her aside and grabbed desperately at her back, where a
disc-shaped object seemed to have taken root.
"It's a plasma charge. Don't bother trying to get it off, it's been modified to
burrow into your exoplating and attach itself to your abdominal implant. After
all, Your Majesty," Janeway's tone dripped sarcasm, "what's a jubilee without
some fireworks? Release Voyager and drop your shields, or I'll give the order
to detonate it."
"You will be killed as well."
"Why must I keep having this conversation with you? I've told you before, I'd
rather be dead than be like you and I don't negotiate with Borg. Drop your
shields or I'll explode you like a firecracker. Seven, take their shields,
tractor beam and propulsion off line."
The Queen was speechless with rage as Seven moved to comply.
"Done, Captain."
"Delta Flyer, two to beam out."
Just as they started to fade, Kathryn waved her hand and delivered a parting
shot:
"Happy anniversary, your Borgness."
As they dematerialised, drones rushed to separate the Queen's organic
components, her head, shoulders and part of her spinal column, from her
exoplating. They need not have bothered, Janeway was true to her word and did
not detonate the plasma charge, but the interruption to the Queen's command
interface gave them time to make good their escape and Voyager had long since
gone to warp and disappeared before the Borg Queen re-established control.
******
Almost a year had passed and Kathryn and Seven of Nine were once more on a
holographic beach at dusk. A driftwood fire burned brightly and Seven had
insisted on grilling their steaks over the flames rather than allow Kathryn to
incinerate them beyond recognition as she usually did. A tent glowing with
yellow lamplight sat behind them on the sand above the high water mark.
Seven felt lazy and unusually full. She did not normally consume quite so much
solid nutrition in one sitting and was rather glad she had changed out of her
customary bodysuit and into loose khaki shorts and cotton shirt.
They were in the holodeck for the next two whole days to celebrate their first
anniversary and Seven was amazed when Kathryn, who had to be feeling just as
slothful as she was, asked the time and then insisted that they go for a walk.
She sighed and climbed reluctantly to her feet. Kathryn grasped her firmly
about the waist and started almost dragging her down the beach and around a
small outcropping of rocks to a tiny cove. Once there, she kissed Seven
passionately and pulled her down to sit in the sand beside her.
Seven opened her mouth to protest this strange behaviour just as a brilliant
green flare shot into the night sky and burst into multi coloured stars, which
drifted down to fall hissing into the ocean. Then, she could only hold
Kathryn's hand and sit in silence as she watched the brilliant pyrotechnic
display Kathryn had programmed.
"I meant what I said to the Borg Queen."
Seven looked at her quizzically.
"What's a celebration without fireworks." Kathryn smiled radiantly, her face
lit by the pulsing colours that burst in the night sky.
Then, just when it seemed to be over, a series of brilliant flares and sparks
lit up a pontoon Seven had not noticed anchored off shore.
When she read the question spelled out in blazing light, she turned to Kathryn
and kissed her before answering: "Yes, yes I will."
******