To Live and Learn

‘Personal log, Seven of Nine. Voyager is beginning its third day in orbit around the Bactock planet - home to a humanoid race, by all accounts. The ion storm has damaged several key ship’s systems, and Captain Janeway remains insistent on restocking our supplies and repairing our vessel, whilst participating in what the crew call, ‘shore leave’. I have yet to discover a marinal coast-line on this planet, but I have come to realise that human speech is highly ineffective and inaccurate.

The Doctor dismisses the failings of their language as ‘figures of speech’, yet this does not improve its practicality. Lieutenant Torres has requested a new plasma conduit for engineering. It is crucial if further repairs are to be carried out so I have decided to aid the crew in acquiring one, as my work routine is already 12.5 hours behind schedule, due to the lack of this particular item. This will be my first time on the planet’s surface. The Borg have not encountered the Bactock people before, so this experience should be...interesting. End personal log.’

Seven tapped a command into the console and then briskly strode out of the Cargo Bay. Making her way to transporter room two, she came across Chakotay, en route, outside the transporter room doors.

“Going planet-side, Seven?” he asked, good-naturedly.

“I am attempting to acquire a new plasma conduit for Voyager,” she answered, curtly yet politely.

“Good, good. B’Elanna’s been getting pretty bothered about that. I wouldn’t hold your breath, though. The traders of this planet, don’t seem to deal in Starfleet adaptable merchandise. But good luck, anyway.”

“Luck will have nothing to do with it, Commander”, Seven replied, confidently, “and I certainly have no intention of depriving myself of oxygen.”

“Seven, it was a - never mind," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I’m glad to hear it. Let me know how you get on.”

“Understood.”, she replied, before entering the transporter room.

When Seven materialised on the planet’s surface, she was instantly taken aback by the commotion surrounding her. She was used to large crowds, from her time in the Collective, but they were crowds of efficiently, working units - not chaotic individuals, as was the case here.

She did not recognise the species around her and had no idea how to interact with them. All she knew, was that Janeway did not highly recommend her ‘borg tact’, as she had heard it referred to, in dealing with negotiations.

‘Irrelevant apprehension’, she decided, abruptly - ‘we will adapt’.

She proceeded into what appeared to be, a centre of commerce and industry - crude, but relatively effective, she decided. She had heard the rather shabby collection of stalls and shops being referred to as a ‘market place’ by Voyager’s crew and with this in mind, she headed towards it.

Two hours later, she had decided that this was not an efficient use of her time. Commander Chakotay had been accurate in his estimation of their appropriate trading standards and her lack of material success was almost insignificantly annoying in comparison to the pointless conversation which she had been repeatedly forced into all day - either by haggling shop-keepers or interfering humanoids on street-corners. Although Seven of Nine, did not like to admit defeat, she was nevertheless ready to return to the vessel which had been her temporary home for the past three months and which was a comparative haven from the planet.

She felt the, still unfamiliar, sensation of fatigue in her legs and increased her pace towards the transporter site.

As she did so, a movement in the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. She turned to see a figure in the shadows of an alley-way entrance. He was taller than her, brown, slick hair, shabby, with an air of self-importance and he leaned against the brick wall, wrapping his long trench coat around him. As he caught her eye, he beckoned her over to him.

Seven could see no reason not to comply, and so she did. “State your purpose,” she said. If the stranger was taken aback by her abruptness, he made no indication of it. Instead, he gave her a half smile.

“You Starfleet?” he asked.

“I am from their vessel,” she confirmed.

“Well, I’ve been watching you. You appear to be in need of something - something that you don’t appear to have been successful in finding.” Seven considered the logic of his words for a moment.

“You are correct,” she stated.

“What are you after?”

“A Starfleet compatible plasma conduit. Do you have one?”

“Starfleet compatible plasma conduit, eh?” He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I might do. But Starfleet? That’s the tricky part, isn’t it? And it may, just cost you something extra.”

“Understood. State your price.”

“Maybe it’s out of your range.”

“Voyager has extensive supplies. You are wasting my time. State your price.”

“Well, that’s just it - maybe your time, is the price I require.” Seven narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“Explain.”

“You, and me, at my place. Wouldn’t cost you or Voyager, a penny. Just one evening of your time.” Seven considered this for a moment.

“I have not heard the crew, mention this method of payment in their bartering systems,” she stated.

“Well, it’s common down this way.” She thought again.

“Your proposal is efficient for Voyager’s needs, and cost effective. I will require a viewing of the merchandise, prior to purchase. You will show it to me now.”

“Of course, of course. It’s...back at my place. I deal mostly from home. If you’d care to come with me?”

Seven frowned, slightly. “State its location.”

“The Erueben Sector, five miles, north-west of here.”

“The distance and time of travel is unacceptable - there is work which must be completed on Voyager. You will have the plasma conduit ready for inspection, tonight.”

“Tonight?” he repeated, a little confused. “But I thought that we could...” He trailed off.

“You stated ‘one evening of my time’, correct?” Off his nod, she continued, “By my calculations, we are still in early afternoon. Evening does not begin for another five hours.”

“6 o’clock?” he asked, somewhat amused by her behaviour.

“That is correct. Where do you propose we meet?”

“I can meet you right here. My place is a little hard to find,” he said, by way of explanation. Seven considered that for a moment.

“That is acceptable. Do you require me to bring anything?” He smiled at her in a somewhat sickening leer:

“No - just you. I must say, I never realised that Starfleet officers were so...liberal with their bodies.” Seven narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“Explain,” she demanded.

“Well, you do know that it’s your body that I want, don’t you?”

“Do you intend to inflict damage upon it, or make long-term use of it?” she demanded, crisply.

“As I said - just one evening, and no damage.”

“Then your proposal is acceptable,” Seven stated. “You will be here at 6 o’clock this evening - with the conduit, or our agreement is off.”

“Understood. I hope it will be a pleasure doing business with you.” Seven nodded, curtly, before she turned on her heel, and made her way back to the transport co-ordinates.

When she arrived back on Voyager, the ship was once again, nearly deserted. Almost the entire crew had requested shore leave, and were currently enjoying it. She quickly set to work on her routine maintenance duties around the ship. She had five hours before her meeting, and she intended to be as efficient with her time, as possible. After all, she considered, she was about to lose an entire evening of work-time but it was worth the sacrifice, if it acquired the item Voyager was most in need of.

She had finished repair work in Jeffries Tube 8, when it suddenly occurred to her, that she should inform a relevant member of the crew, of her possible purchase. She sealed up the panel to the environmental controls, she had been working on, and then backed her way out of the tube.

She thought about the most logical person to report the news to.

‘The captain is most likely concerned with other matters, at this point. Lieutenant Torres has requested the item - logically, the information should go to her.’ The decision made, she headed off to engineering.

B’Elanna Torres was having one of those days. “No, no, no! I said cross-link at nodules four and six!” she cried, as another relay circuit exploded in her face.

“Sorry,” came the rather sheepish reply of the engineering culprit, who then quickly made the proper adjustments. B’Elanna took a deep breath and blew the air out, slowly.

“Not a problem. Let’s try it again,” she said, impressed by her own calm. That was the fifth thing to go wrong, that hour. She glanced up when she heard the hiss of the doors opening. Not the most welcoming of sights, walked in but B’Elanna was far too tired to start any tirades between the two of them. She watched and waited as Seven of Nine, calmly made her way over to her.

“What can I do for you, Seven?” she said, as lightly as possible. “As you can see, we’re a little busy, here.” She indicated the frizzled circuitry in front of her.

“This will not take more then a moment of you time, Lieutenant. I believe I may have acquired a new plasma conduit for Voyager.” B’Elanna’s jaw dropped several centimetres.

“But...how?” she almost sputtered. “I mean...Starfleet compatible?” Seven nodded. “But that’s impossible! I mean amazing,” she amended. “No one’s had any luck so far. But you said you ‘may’ have acquired it - what’s the problem?”

“Payment is yet to be made, as is an inspection of the merchandise,” she replied.

“I see. Well, let’s hope it’s everything we need it to be.”

“Agreed.”

“When are you going to make the purchase?”

“This evening, at 6 o’clock.” B’Elanna frowned a little, in confusion, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why are you waiting till this evening? Why not make the exchange now?”

“Because an evening of my time, was what was required in the agreement, ”Seven stated, simply.

For a moment, B’Elanna wasn’t sure if she’d heard her rightly. She blinked once. “I’m sorry, Seven. Say that again - WHAT was part of the agreement?”

“An evening-”, she began, just as another explosion sounded from behind B’Elanna.

“Damn,” muttered, B’Elanna, turning to see what had happened.

“Lieutenant!” came the cry she had been expecting. “We’ve got another relay failure - you’d better take a look at this one.” She sighed, heavily.

“I’ll be right there - just don’t touch anything!” ‘God’, she thought, ‘I feel like a kindergarten teacher.’ “Look, Seven,” she started to say as she turned round, but it was too late - Seven had left engineering. “Damn it!”, she muttered again, as she made her way over to her guilt-ridden colleague, taking a mental note to speak to Seven about this again.

Four hours later, Seven finished off the last item on her work schedule and began to make her way back to Cargo Bay 2. She had 33 minutes before she was due to make the transaction and, allowing a 10 minute interval once on the planet’s surface, to locate the trader, that left her 23 minutes spare time on Voyager. Seven was not used to the concept of ‘spare time’, and filling it did not come easily to her. Fortunately, she was in need of a nutritional supplement which she had neglected to take at, what was commonly known as ‘lunch time’.

The young ex-drone had needed to make up for the lost time that the evening would create, and it had required a re-shuffling of her schedule. She had calculated that her body could function for another 24 hours, before her work-performance would deteriorate to any notable degree and as such, nutrition was expendable. Now, however, it was a perfect way to fill the time-gap.

After a brief stop in the cargo bay, Seven had spent an uneventful 14 minutes in the mess hall, consuming a dish of an indistinguishable nature - prepared that very day, by Neelix. Whilst she sat at her table, she had observed several of the crew members, contorting their faces into gestures which she had come to recognise as grimaces, as they consumed their nutrients. She, however, felt no need to express her opinion, one way or the other. Besides, it seemed that every time she expressed her opinion, on whatever topic, she was either glared at by Torres, or scolded by Janeway.

Pushing her plate away, Seven rose, headed out of the mess hall and made her way to the nearest transporter room. As she rounded a corner, she was forced to stop, abruptly, as Janeway rounded the corner from the opposite direction. She smiled at the young ex-drone, in greeting. “Seven, I’ve been wondering where you’ve got to. Commander Chakotay tells me that you’ve finally ventured out onto Bactock. I must say, it’s about time you started to relax a little - I was considering making it an order,” she joked.

“That will not be necessary, Captain,” Seven replied, in all earnestness. “I am in fact, returning to the surface, now.”

“Oh?” Janeway asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I am attempting to make a transaction for a new plasma conduit for Voyager, for which I am almost late.” She began to walk away, but she stopped after one step, turned slightly, and added, “Excuse me, please, Captain.” She did not wait for a reply as she disappeared, but Kathryn merely smiled. “At least she’s getting it half right,” she chuckled to herself.

As Seven materialised on the planet, an uneasy feeling began to gnaw at the pit of her stomach, that she could not understand. The market was far less crowded than before, as she made her way past the, previously bustling stalls and towards the alley-way where she had had her first encounter.

‘Why am I feeling so...nervous?’ she asked herself. ‘It is not as if I am going to be harmed. My body is a tool and must be utilised as such. Humans engage in sexual activities on a daily basis. I have heard Lieutenant Paris, say as much. This will be no different.’

Still, she found herself wondering what exactly, ‘sexual activities’, would entail: was she properly equipped for it? Was she supposed to have learnt what to do, before her transaction? She knew that human sexuality resulted in the male sperm entering the female body - she presumed humanoid beings, came equipped for this kind of mating ritual, although they were not the most efficient of species.

As she approached the alley-way, she could see the trader waiting and the gnawing in her gut, intensified. She briefly wondered if she could function adequately with the internal distraction. She decided that she could - she must - Voyager was worth a little sacrifice and after all, the one was insignificant to the many.

“Right on time,” the trader remarked, approvingly, as she approached him.

“Of course,” she replied. “Please show me the plasma conduit.” He obligingly led her to a portable storage unit, where she inspected the conduit with optimum efficiency, before nodding her approval.

“It appears to be in good working condition and Starfleet compatible.”

“Then our agreement is on?”

“It is. You may proceed.”

“Excellent. My transport is this way - if you’ll follow me -”. He smiled, apologetically. “I’m sorry - I’ve been terribly rude. I don’t even know your name.”

“You mean my designation?” she asked.

“If that’s what you call it, then yes. My name is Salen, and you are?”

“Seven of Nine, but you may call me Seven.”

“Seven?” he repeated as if trying the word out. “Not exactly what I was expecting, but it seems somehow...fitting. Now let’s get moving, shall we? I’m sure you have other things you’d like to do tonight?”

“Agreed”, she stated, as she climbed into the transport vehicle which Salen had indicated.

It took 30 minutes of non-stop driving, before Salen and Seven pulled into a street, with rows of living units, spread out along either side. Fire-bins burned on street corners, windows were broken in many of the houses, cats wailed, dogs barked and men and women, harassed each other in passing. Seven decided that this area was even less efficient than Voyager, but that was irrelevant if they had the plasma conduit that they needed.

They exited the vehicle, and her companion led her into a small house - in slightly better condition than the majority of its neighbouring buildings.

It was not much bigger than a single room - darkly lit, save for a few candles burning, here and there. A large bed dominated the floor space. Seven still could not ascertain why her stomach was doing somersaults at the sight of it. ‘These are completely irrational and irrelevant reactions’, she told herself, firmly.

“Something to drink?” Salen asked, jolting her out of her reverie, as he held out a clear glass, with a pinkish liquid inside it.

“I do not require a liquid supplement at this time,” she answered, simply.

He laughed. “It isn’t necessary, Seven - it’s social, and to be honest, how you spend your time here, is my choosing. That’s the deal, and I would like you to have a drink with me.” He offered her the glass again and this time Seven accepted, taking a hesitant sip. The liquid had a curious odour and taste, and she believed it was meant to have an intoxicating effect. Reaching to her comm badge, he removed it and placed it on a nearby table -

“So we’re not disturbed,” he explained. “Sit down,” Salen instructed, indicating a rather battered couch. Seven did so, hesitantly, and as she did he began to remove his long trench coat and his boots. “Drink your drink,” he insisted, as he moved around to the back of the couch.

She complied, taking another sip of the strangely intoxicating liquid. As she did so, she felt the shock of his hot breath on her ear, followed quickly by his rough lips on her neck. She closed her eyes and forced her body not to react with the violent shudder, she had the urge to release. Slowly, his mouth made its way, up and down her neck, as his hand snaked its way into her hair, found the pins holding it up and released them, so that her hair fell in golden cascades, around her shoulders. She drew a sharp intake of breath, but exhaled it quickly. She could no longer bear the thought of consuming her drink, and so she held it steady between her knees.

“Am I?...am I to do anything?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Just keep still,” was the muffled response. She swallowed, nervously, but obligingly complied.

Abruptly, Salen stopped his attention to the side of her neck and moved round to the front of the couch. Sitting down besides Seven, he rather roughly, clasped her round the waist, and pulled her into his lap. He began to kiss her, gently, on the top of her head. Next, he moved down slowly, laying kisses on her forehead, then her face, her nose, her neck. Meanwhile, his hands had found the join of her suit at the waist, and had unfastened it, and were now sliding underneath it, up and down, in a rhythmic motion.

Seven, again suppressed the urge to cry out, biting her lip, to stop it from trembling. This was only her body, she kept telling herself - so long as it functioned properly, it meant nothing to her. So why was she so afraid? This happened to millions of humans, every day. It was natural, after all. It was apparently, another one of those strange, human customs that she was going to have to get used to. She had already mastered eating, she told herself - she could learn to master this.

Salen had now pulled the top half of her tunic, down to her breast line, and he continued his trail of kisses, from her throat to her chest, as his hands strove to push themselves from her back, round her sides, to the front of her body. With a renewed determination to see this simplest of human tasks, through, Seven turned her face away from Salen’s eyes, and allowed her tears to fall, silently - unnoticed by her co-transacter.

“Captain!” B’Elanna called. Janeway, turned to see her chief engineer, jogging lightly towards her. She waited for her to catch up.

“B’Elanna”, she said in greeting, as the woman approached her. “I hear you’ve been slaving away in engineering all day. You really should take a break - maybe join me on the holodeck sometime? I could use a velocity partner, you know.”

B’Elanna smiled, appreciatively, “Thank-you, Captain, but there’s just so much work going on at the moment.”

“Oh, come now, Lieutenant! Even Seven found the time for a break.”

“Actually, Captain, it was Seven that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, I can’t seem to find her. I was wondering if you knew where she was?”

“Well, I passed her on the way to transporter room one, when she was going down to Bactock, but that was about an hour ago. She was only going down there, to complete a transaction - she should have been back by now.”

“For a plasma conduit?” B’Elanna asked.

“Yes, that was it. What is this about, B’Elanna?”

“It’s something Seven said to me, in engineering, when she told me about the deal she was making. She said that the man she was dealing with, had asked her to meet him in 5 hours, and that ‘an evening of her time’, was the payment for the plasma conduit,” she explained.

Janeway’s eyes widened in shock. “She said WHAT?” she asked, incredulously. “Do you think she meant...well, what you and I are thinking?”

“I’m sure of it, Captain, but I’m not sure that she understood it at the time. I meant to say something to her then, but then one of the relay circuits blew - again, and from then on it’s been one thing after another,” she finished, apologetically.

“Not to worry, B’Elanna. I’ll find her. Did she mention any names, or where she was going?”

“No, nothing.”

“Then I’ll have to use the transporter logs, and track her with sensors,” she said, heading for transporter room one.

Janeway tapped into the transporter logs. Seven had beamed down, at 5.50 p.m., directly into the market place. She really didn’t suppose there was any chance, she was still there.

“Janeway to Chakotay.”

“Chakotay here,” came the reply of her first officer.

“I’m trying to locate Seven. She’s down on Bactock - last known co-ordinates were at the market place transport site. She’s not answering her comm, badge - can you scan for her, on ship’s sensors?”

“I’m on it.”, Chakotay replied, tapping into the controls on the panels on his chair. “I’m picking up a Starfleet comm badge and borg signatures, together in one location. It’s a highly populated area, though and I’m afraid I couldn’t give you a precise location.”

“How accurate?” she asked.

“A matter of metres.”

“Good enough. Transfer the co-ordinates to transporter room one. You have the ship - Janeway out.”

When she materialised on the planet’s surface, she immediately began to get her bearings. Taking out her tricorder, she quickly began a scan of the surrounding living abodes. The place was a dingy hell-hole. What in Heaven’s name, had Seven been thinking of - to come here , alone, with no protection and not even in access of her comm badge! She would personally kill that girl! she decided.

‘Yes’, she thought, suddenly, ‘she IS a girl - at least for right now, she may as well be. She’s like a school girl, just beginning to discover her body, but oh, so vulnerable to being taken advantage of. God, I have to find her, fast.’

Salen and Seven, had now progressed to the room’s bed. Seven was not exactly sure what the purpose was, of everything Salen was doing to her, and his fingers were painfully digging into the flesh of her arms and legs. She could not see the need for this - she was lying, pinned underneath him after all, so it was not as if she could have escaped if she wanted to. Besides, they had an agreement and Janeway would always honour an agreement, she thought to herself as he took her flesh, painfully in his teeth. The top half of her clothing had been removed, and Seven distantly wondered, if the bottom half was soon to follow.

A sudden noise startled Salen into ceasing his, less than gentle, ministrations. He glanced up from Seven in mild irritation, but the sight that met his eyes, quelled any angry remarks which may have been forming on his lips. A Starfleet officer - a captain, if he was reading the number of pips on her uniform, correctly, stood before him, arms folded across her chest. It wasn’t even the sight of the phaser by her side, which prompted Salen to leap off Seven - it was the expression on her face: hard anger, grim determination and horrified shock, all rolled into one. A very dangerous combination, in his opinion.

Seven raised her head from the bed, to see what was going on. To say that seeing her captain, standing there with what she had quickly learnt, was her ‘angry expression’, was a shock - was an understatement.

‘Obviously, my services have been required on Voyager,’ she thought in a panic. ‘I have neglected my duties. However, I am relatively certain that once I explain the reasons for my absence, that the captain will be satisfied.’

“Seven.” Janeway’s voice was pure ice. Seven’s stomach immediately tied itself into a tight knot. She couldn’t recall her captain using that tone of voice with her before. She had certainly angered Janeway enough in the past, but she sensed that this was different - there was something else in her expression which she couldn’t read.

“Captain, I…” she began, but Janeway cut her off, abruptly:

“Get your clothes together, Seven, and get out of here now. Wait for me outside. Move,” she added, when Seven remained on the bed, uncertainly. Needing no further encouragement, Seven pulled her tunic back over her and hurriedly scrambled off the bed. She shot a hasty glance at Salen, who was alternating his glance from her, to Janeway before she practically darted past Janeway and out of the door.

When Seven was safely outside, Janeway turned to Salen, who piped up, immediately:

“Look, lady, I know what you must be thinking, but I didn’t force her into anything.”

“Don’t give me that. You spoke to Seven. Anyone’s who’s had any kind of conversation with her, regarding sexual relationships, is aware of how little she knows on the subject. Seven may have officially consented to your demands, but as far as I’m concerned, it was as good as rape and I will make it very well known throughout the quadrant, that this is how the traders on this planet, operate. If any protests from your people arise, I will be sure to make it quite clear, who is responsible for their lack of trade.”

He looked at her with a sneer of humorous contempt. “You wouldn’t do that, Captain. I’ve heard of the ‘mighty’ Starfleet - they aren’t so single minded as to condemn an entire race, for the actions of one individual.”

Janeway slowly and deliberately, picked up Seven’s comm badge from the near-by table and then, with meaningful, steady steps, she crossed the floor to stand face to face with Salen. Despite her relatively diminutive size, he couldn’t help but to stumble backwards a couple of steps.

“You may know Starfleet,” she hissed in a low, even voice, “but you obviously have no conception of human, parental care. I would advise you, to never make contact with any member of my crew, or any Starfleet officer, ever again. I hope for your sake, that I’m making myself clear.” With one last, chilling glare which bore straight into his skull, she turned on her heel, and stalked out of the room.

She spotted Seven immediately, waiting obediently outside the house. She could tell from her unusually agitated disposition, that Seven was nervous about something, but at that moment, Janeway was too angry to care about that.

“Captain,” Seven began to say, as Janeway approached her, “I realise I have been negligent of my duties on Voyager, but I must be allowed to complete the transaction with Salen. You see he has a plasma conduit,

and -”

Janeway grabbed a hold of her arm, effectively cutting off what she was about to say, and began pulling her away from the house. As she did so, she slapped Seven’s comm badge, back onto her uniform, and her voice was like thunder, as she snapped:

“Don’t you dare say another word because I don’t want to hear it - understand?” She didn’t wait for Seven to reply, only tapped her comm badge. “Janeway, here. Two to beam up. Energise.”

Seven found herself nervously pacing the captain’s quarters. She had been hauled off to sickbay for some reason, as soon as they were back on Voyager, despite her best attempts to assure everyone that her body was undamaged. It seemed that everything she said that evening, caused the Doctor to frown, in some kind of grim understanding that she was not party to, and Janeway, to simply become more upset. She quickly decided, therefore, that it would be best to keep quiet until she was directly asked a question. However, she was not questioned and instead, Janeway had marched her back to her own quarters and instructed her to wait there. That had been 20 minutes ago and was now where Seven found herself, uselessly pacing back and forth, waiting anxiously for Janeway’s return.

Try as she might, she could not understand the problem. Voyager had undergone no emergency in the time she was gone that would have required her assistance, and even if she had been requested to perform a task, why did they delay her here, instead of letting her get to work? Most irritatingly of all, she was not in possession of the plasma conduit - thus making the whole evening, a most inefficient use of her time.

She abruptly stopped her pacing when the door opened and Janeway walked through, looking upset, but definitely more calm than she had on Bactock. When she spoke to her, however, the anger quickly rose in her voice.

“All right, Seven. Would you mind telling me, just what the Hell you thought you were doing down there?” She stood facing Seven, and the young borg felt very uncomfortable with their physical proximity. She swallowed, took a steadying breath, and answered:

“I was attempting to purchase a new plasma conduit for Voyager. I had heard that it was very necessary for repairs, and -”

“I’m not talking about that, Seven. It’s all well and good to acquire a new plasma conduit. What I’m questioning is your method of payment! Why on Earth did you allow that man to perform those acts with you? Don’t you realise the danger you could have put yourself in?”

Seven frowned in confusion. “My body is the payment he required. I was in possession of what he required. It would not even have depleted Voyager’s stocks. It seemed a logical and acceptable trade.”

“No, Seven, - it was NOT acceptable!” Janeway exploded. “It is NEVER acceptable to barter your body - ever! Do you understand? Your body is not a tool to be utilised, and whatever he may have told you, it is NOT a common form of payment. Your body is precious, Seven. Your virginity is something to be valued. God, Seven, did you even consider the sexually transmitted diseases that that man may have been carrying?”

From the sheer bewildered expression on Seven’s face, she could tell that this idea was completely alien to her. She sighed, but when she spoke again, it was more softly. “You know so little about what you were just doing, Seven. It scares me - anything could have happened to you and you have to be ready for it. There are many survival instincts that the Borg didn’t teach you - mainly because they were irrelevant in the Borg hive. But they’re not irrelevant here.” She exhaled, softly. “Sit down, Seven. It’s time you and I had a little chat.”

Seven perched uneasily on the edge of the sofa, as Janeway came and sat down next to her. “There are ...things, Seven - things specifically related to sex and your gender, that you should have learnt by now, and would have, if your life had followed its normal life-course.

Up until now, I never really thought that it mattered to you before - I figured you were safe on Voyager. But you won’t always be on Voyager, and we won’t always have a crew compliment that I completely trust. After all, we do pick up the occasional traveller.”

Seven sat, staring at her intently, though her fear that Janeway’s tirade may start up again, was still evident in her face. “It’s not even as simple as giving you a computer program to study, that would bring you up to speed, I’m afraid.”, she continued.

“I mean, these are things that you would have learned from your mother - from magazines, and your friends at school, from older sisters and rumours flying round bathroom walls. Do you see, Seven? They’re the little lessons in life that you begin to pick up from the day that you’re born and that culminate when you reach puberty. It’s trial and error.

The mistakes you made tonight are typical of those made by a young, inexperienced girl - only you’re at a severe disadvantage. Your body is that of a young woman’s, and that’s how men will see you - and the kind of attention you get, and the expectations placed on you, are going to be very different, from those of a young girl.”

She reached over, and gently took Seven’s hand, in hers. “Let me ask you something, Seven: did you actually understand what it was, Salen was asking you to do tonight?” At Seven’s shake of ‘no’, Janeway could feel her eyes begin to brim with tears. She squeezed her hand, gently.

“I thought not. I mean how could you? It’s not exactly relevant data that the Borg would have assimilated. Even if they had recorded the facts, there’s an entire mental state - a kind of ‘maturity’, I guess you could say, that goes hand in hand with responsibly using and enjoying your body, and that’s a maturity which you don’t have, and one which you’re going to have to learn the regular way - one day at a time.

But you WILL learn - every experience, whether good or bad, helps. Do you understand anything of what I’ve been telling you, Seven?”

Seven looked down at her lap and considered, briefly, all that the captain had told her. Finally, she looked up.

“Not all of it, Captain. You mean to say, that sexual activities are not considered normal?”

“Oh, they’re normal, Seven. But they have to have the appropriate feelings to go with them. You have to understand, not only what you’re doing, but why you’re doing it.”

“I do not understand, Captain. I do not intend to be...difficult, but surely a body is a piece of flesh and bone - I do not see why feelings must be attached to its usage.”

Janeway quietly released Seven’s hand and stood up. “I know that, Seven,” she said, her voice once again taking on a firmer tone. “That’s why I’m going to make those decisions for you, until I can trust that you fully understand the implications of your choices.

You are to refrain from any further sexual activity, until I am sure that you have begun to learn more responsibility. Also, from now on and until I can be sure that you value your own body more than you do right now, you will not be allowed on any planet we encounter, without full-time accompaniment - away missions excepted. On all other occasions, you will report directly to me, when you wish to leave Voyager, and you will say with whom you will be going. If I am not here, you will report to Chakotay. Do I make myself clear?”

Her voice did NOT leave room for any argument, and although Seven had her protests about these latest restrictions, she wisely decided not to voice them at this time. Instead, she simply nodded. “Yes, Captain,” she replied, quietly.

Janeway’s expression, softened immediately. “Good,” she said, “then come here, you.” She pulled the startled Seven, up standing, and drew her into a tight embrace which, although Seven felt was more for Janeway’s benefit, than hers, she nonetheless found that she gained some much needed comfort - comfort she wasn’t even aware she had been wanting. She screwed her eyes shut, and tightened her hold around Janeway, and as she did so, she felt the first, hot tears, slide unbidden, down her cheeks. Despite her best attempts to suppress these illogical and pointless feelings, she was startled to hear a strangled sob escape her own lips as the repulsive sensations she had experienced with Salen, came suddenly flooding back to her in an uncontrollable wash of memories and emotions.

Janeway felt the tiniest of shudders, ripple through this woman-child’s body, and so tightened her hold around her, gently rubbing her back and whispering the same nonsense, soothing words that her own mother had murmured to her, as she cried in her arms over the most recent catastrophe of her adolescence. One thing was certain, she decided - she would never allow anything like this to happen again. After all, she had made it through her puberty and God help them all, with just a little help - so would Seven, she concluded with a smile.

The End.