Lessons - Part 1

 

The two women regarded each other silently.  It was a tense silence, filled with frustration that, even after two weeks of Seven’s confinement to Cargo Bay 2, had not abated.  They had simply said many times over everything that there was to say on the matter and would never be eye to eye on it.

“Well, Seven, you can return to duty.”  There was steel in Kathryn Janeway’s tone that was every bit as real as the steel in the young ex-drone’s body.  Perhaps some weariness too.  “I hope we never have to have this discussion again.”

“As do I.”  Seven recalled their considerably more vocal discussion a week ago, when the captain visited her in the cargo bay to see whether the confinement was doing what it was supposed to.  But Seven was not apologetic for destroying the creature that had invaded their ship;  Species 8472 was devious and cunning, and the captain didn’t need to take her word for it.  Return it to its home, and more than likely, the others would have tried to destroy them anyway, and probably have succeeded.

“Seven, when I make a command decision, that is AN ORDER!  It is NOT optional, it is not a suggestion!  You can’t just disobey orders at your discretion!”  the captain had shouted, losing her temper with Seven, who showed no remorse for her own “command decision.”

And Seven, who had remained impassive through the rounds of heated discussion with the captain, found the blood coming into her face and found her own voice rejoining, “I believed your decision to be incorrect.  I believed it was placing the ship in unnecessary danger.  I disobeyed you because I felt a responsibility to protect this ship and YOU, because YOU ARE MY FRIEND!”  She surprised herself with the thunder in her voice as she emphasized those last words.

Kathryn had been shaken by the naked declaration of Seven’s feelings.  It was the first time that Seven had made that declaration, had used those specific words.  Kathryn wished she had the room to be as moved by it as she might have been under different circumstances.  “I told you, Seven.  I can’t always be your friend.  And this is one of those times.  Command structure exists for a reason, what do you think it would do to the order on this ship to have you or any other crewman disobeying direct orders at their own discretion?  It would be chaos.”

“If I had not done so, there would be no ship and this discussion would not even be occurring.”  Prior to the captain’s visit, she had spent only a small portion of her time dwelling on this incident, since she felt she needed to consider her actions no further.  But facing the captain was another matter.  She’d felt robbed that the one person who, more than any other, had encouraged her to cultivate individual thought, was now telling her that she should feel remorse for having done just that.

And now, a week later, she stood before her in her standard at-ease posture, hands clasped behind her straightened back, still not able to make sense of what had happened.  She had, over her time here, come to care for the members of this crew, most deeply for the captain who was guiding her through the ineffables of humanity.  She concluded that this was one of them, and decided to lay the matter to rest for now.  She knew she would always do what she believed best for the members of the crew and its captain, whether she received recognition for it or not.  “I trust,”  she said with no small measure of sarcasm, “the command structure of the ship has not disintegrated in my absence?”

“Pull your shift and let me know,”  Kathryn responded tartly.

Seven nodded an acknowledgement and turned to leave the ready room.

“And Seven?”

She paused, looking over her shoulder.

“Report to the holodeck tomorrow at 19:00 hours.”

Seven lifted an eyebrow.  Their scheduled Velocity game time.  Curious, and confusing.  But she found she was glad they would be resuming their time together for something other than these tiresome discussions.

The comm burbled loudly.  Harry Kim’s voice, from his Ops position, sounding as worried as he generally did.  Kathryn remembered one of the first things she ever said to him, ‘At ease, Ensign, before you sprain something.’  “Bridge to Captain Janeway, please come to the bridge.”

“Where’s the fire, Harry?”  she asked, not choosing to disturb herself until she determined it was as dire as Harry usually thought it was.

“A distress signal, captain.”

She stood up and gestured to Seven.  They strode out of the ready room and onto the bridge.  Seven walked back to one of the aft science stations.

“Do we have a visual, Harry?”  Kathryn asked.

“Audio only.” 

“Let’s hear it.”

A sterile female voice crackled through over the comm.  “This is P’al Parak ship three-five-seven-seven requesting assistance ….”  Some digital noise and hissing.  Then again.  “This is P’al Parak ship three-five-seven-seven requesting assistance ….” 

Automated.  Probably meant bigger trouble than the pilot could handle.  Kathryn’s blue eyes focused on the helm.  “Position, Mr. Kim?”

“Six eight seven point four, mark four, captain.”

She nodded.  “Tom.  You heard the man. Full impulse.”

“Yes ma’am,”  Tom responded, having already begun laying in the course before she’d given the order.  The ship hooked starboard and took off in the direction of the distress call, slipping easily like a fish, both quick and languid at once.

Kathryn was looking at her display … could this be?  She glanced at Chakotay’s as well and it was showing the same thing.  “Harry, I’m seeing some delton emissions, can you confirm this?”

“Yes, captain, and it seems to be coming from the source of the distress call.”

Kathryn glanced at the helm, “Get in close enough to beam her out, but hang back as much as possible.  Even with full shields, I’d rather not get too close to those emissions.”  She watched the blond helmsman execute her command flawlessly.  “Life signs?”

Harry squinted, the crease between his brows deepening.  “Yes ma’am.  One.  And it’s … it’s outside the ship.”  His voice rose uncertainly, not sure if he was reading correctly.

“I’d be distressed too, floating outside my ship”  Tom Paris quipped.

Kathryn quirked an eyebrow slightly, barely acknowledging the ensign’s bad joke.  “Can you determine the species, Harry?”

Harry shook his head.  “Don’t recognize it.”  Some more adjusting.  “Humanoid.  We’ve got a visual, captain.”

“On screen.”

The viewer’s focus shifted to the small ship that Voyager was closing on.  Its shape reminded Kathryn of a conch shell … long and tapering down to a point at the front and broader in the back, with what appeared to be four overlapping panels, one of which was open, peeled back.  Harry further increased magnification to reveal that the ship seemed to be translucent, that she could see the lights of the sensors and panels glowing dimly through its hull, which gleamed softly, luminous like a pearl.  “What the hell’s that thing made of??”

“I don’t know, ma’am …”  Harry tweaked the sensors some more.  “Some kind of synthetic alloy … This chemical composition is … I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Inorganic compound,” Seven contributed.  “A complex plastic of some kind.”

“But there are serious emissions of delton particles coming from what looks like the power source…”  Harry continued.

“Dangerous stuff,”  Chakotay noted.

“Yes sir, but it doesn’t seem to have degraded her systems at all … must be the alloy … something else is wrong.”

Then Kathryn saw the figure … in some kind of environmental suit … clinging to the hull of the ship, which appeared to be almost entirely belly-up.  Most surely the source of the distress call.  Maybe she’d lost cabin pressure … “I’m guessing that’s our life sign, Mr. Kim.”

A bright stream of something burst from the belly of the ship.  The figure was clinging on, appeared to be trying to work its way across the curved expanse - not so much away from the source of the stream as toward something on the other side.

“Harry, what the hell is that??”

“Delton particle stream, captain … that thing’s about to blow!”

“Get her out of there, Harry!”  Kathryn shouted.

“I’ve got her!”

“Beam her directly to sickbay.  Janeway to the Doctor- you have a guest coming in, and I suggest you quarantine her and decontaminate her before you do anything else.”  Janeway turned to Chakotay.  “I’m going down there.  You have the bridge.”

As Kathryn strode up to the turbolift with a wider gait than her height should rationally allow, behind her, the strange and beautiful ship burst into a strange and beautiful cloud of silver dust.

************************************************************************

“Well,” came a voice, “you’ve been busy.”

All Aanath could see was bright light.  The voice was rather timorous, mild-mannered and fussy - not exactly the voice of the Guardians that the Hothrai priests had written about.  She rolled her eyes behind her half-closed lids.  Even death was disappointing.  Instead of the Guardians with voices that roared as if from the depths of mountains, she’d gotten a midwife from Bu’hutha.

She could hear brisk footsteps moving around her.  She tried to sit up, but lacked the strength to so much as turn her head.  “Where…?”  she croaked.

A face came into view.  “You’re going to be just fine.”  She focused her vision.  It was an odd face, certainly not P’al Paraki and certainly not much like what she expected the Guardians to look like.  A rather patronizing smile, smooth, rounded forehead … she presumed male, though she wasn’t sure.  “Aside from those two broken legs and high levels of radiation.  You’re very lucky we came upon you, Miss …”

He disappeared from view.  She felt something cool and round against her neck and then a warm, tingling sensation accompanied by a soft hissing sound.  Her vision cleared a little bit, and she started to become aware of her extremities again.  Could it be that she wasn’t dead?

“…Miss … well, come to mention it, what is your name?”

“You don’t know?”  What were the odds that the automated distress signal had caught the attention of an uninvolved party?  Was this some trick of the government, a scare tactic?  Sabotage her ship and pull her out just in time, to frighten her into submission?

“I’m afraid not,”  the man responded.  “I’m a doctor, not a psychic.”

“A doctor?”  Aanath shook her head.  She tried curling her toes.  It worked.  “And my ship?”

“I’m also not an engineer.  I’m also the last person on the ship to be told anything.”  There was irritation in his voice.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till the captain gets here for answers to that question.”

She scowled, the small ridges on her nose bunching together.  She didn’t remember anything except looking down through the translucent body of the ship and seeing the coolant light flashing ominously, and then the feeling of blacking out… “I suppose they want you to bring me back now.”

“Well, since I don’t know who you are, much less who they are, I can’t even begin to answer your question.  But-“  There was a pause, some more footsteps, another cool pressing on her neck, another tingling sensation … “if you tell me your name, at the very least, I can stop calling you “You.””

Aanath considered him for a moment.  “Aanath Chothraka.”

“Well, pleased to meet you, Aanath.”

“And what is your name, Doctor?”

There was an audibly perturbed sigh above the beeping of the biobed.  “I’m … between names at the moment.”

A swish from the other side of the room.  Footsteps, lighter, but somehow more purposeful.  “It’s a bit of a sore subject for our good doctor.”  The voice, warm and weathered, bearing the unmistakable tone of command.  “How is our guest, Doctor?”

“Ah.  Two broken legs, some nerve damage, and some delton radiation.  Nothing I couldn’t handle.  She’ll be up and around in no time.”  His tone was a bit too self congratulatory for Aanath’s taste.  “Captain, meet Aanath Chothraka.  Aanath, Captain Kathryn Janeway.”

“Don’t sit up,”  the captain entreated her.  She came and leaned over the bed.  The woman seemed fairly young, her skin was toffee colored and she had small ridges along the bridge of her nose, much like a Bajoran’s, but almost scaly-looking.  Cheekbones that cut and a small, determined chin that came to a little point, not unlike the captain’s own.  Cool, violet eyes regarded the captain with caution.  The smiled gently, reassuringly.  “You’ve had quite a day, haven’t you.”

“It seems to be a habit of your people to understate.”

The captain’s face was small, delicate, smooth like the Doctor’s, but there was a good deal more hair on her head.  Perhaps that was the difference between the genders of this species.  There was clearly intelligence in the eyes, an unusual shade of blue … these were not a people she’d ever heard of her government coming into contact with.  Still … “My thanks for rescuing me.”

The captain nodded.  “We were in the neighborhood.”  Seeing the young woman’s confused expression and realizing there might not be an accurate translation, she added, “We happened to be close by and received your distress signal.”

“… and … my ship?”

The captain’s face darkened.  “I’m sorry.  We pulled you out of there a nanosecond before the explosion.  It’s not entirely demolished, but I’d say you’ve got one Hell of a repair job.”

Aanath’s heart sank.  So much work, toil and risk had gone into that craft and the experiment it was meant to carry out.  It had been her purpose and her pride.  The captain saw the heartbreak in her face, and placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.  Her eyes displayed a powerful understanding of what it meant to be tied to one’s ship in an intimate way and then lose it.  Aanath was taken aback by this, and had to ask, “And now will you be returning me to my government?”

The eyebrows lifted for a moment.  “Well, I guess that’s going to depend on you.”

************************************************************************

The captain shared the story of Voyager first, to allay the young alien woman’s fears that Voyager was some unknown ally of her government’s, come to take her back to P’al Parak.  How they had come to the Delta quadrant, the choice she had made to destroy the array and protect the Ocompa, how the two crews had slowly become one over the years, how they were trying to get home.  The stories of the Kazon, the Vidiians, the many species and worlds they had encountered.  She told her the story of her astrometrics officer, Seven of Nine, taken by the Borg as a small child, rescued by the captain and her crew, and reclaiming her humanity. Aanath was amazed at the perseverance of the crew, and the seeming solidity of its captain, and her love and commitment to those under her command.

They discussed technology; Voyager’s bioneural circuitry, its propulsions systems, and warp theory, a concept similar to something Aanath’s own people had been working with but never successfully implemented.  The captain was fascinated with the elarium, the complex plastic of which Aanath’s ship had been built, which was light, translucent, conductive, impervious to temperature and Delton radiation, and which was quite common and easy to produce on her world.  A staple of their limited trade routes, in fact.  Most interestingly, the meta-stream particle engine in her craft, a concept that Starfleet science had investigated but abandoned because it degraded all of the alloys that the Federation used in building nearly everything.  The concept of such a small, powerful engine had been enticing, but the casings had degraded so fast, and the Delton radiation had caused such illness during the testing, that the whole idea was shelved. 

And so, Aanath finally relaxed and shared her story.  How she had been a highly regarded instructor at one of P’al Parak’s most well regarded science academies, and had been developing a theory for meta-stream power generation using delton particles.  How when the government learned of her research, they first invited her, then attempted to coerce her, to work for them and research for them.  For that was how it was done.  The government controlled resources with a tight rein and strongly discouraged private scientists to develop technology independently of it.  At first Aanath ignored their courtship because she loved teaching at the academy, but also because she didn’t truly believe her theories had merit; then as it became clear that the Kol’Nisset was persistent, and in fact adamant, she began to wonder.  She began pursuing her work independently out of resentment that the Kol’Nisset should presume to control and own her intellect and hard work.  The academy had been threatening to end her tenure there, celebrated though she was for her expertise in dimensional mechanics and propulsion, due to the fact that they found her presumption of private thought and research of “government matters” to be “dangerous” and “harmful to students.”

Kathryn considered how easily Earth’s own government could have gone that way, how some of its smaller national governments had, throughout the centuries, come in claiming to serve the people, and providing for many of them, but eventually proving that the new revolution was one more form of oppression.

But the Kol’Nisset was an old government body, set in its ways and confident in its rightness.  It had been successful for a thousand years.  It was composed of the sons and daughters of governors who had been raised to assume the places of their mothers and fathers in the Kol’Nisset and govern in precisely the same way, for centuries.  They would not allow one scientist to endanger it all now.  So they had sabotaged her ship, closed off the valves of the coolant tanks and damaged the manual release systems to cause an explosion.  No more scientist, no more problem.

“Make no mistake, captain,” the calmly defiant young scientist interjected at one point, “there are many things about my culture that are beautiful. Our architecture, our love of language, our notions of mating and of family.  It is those things that make me wish to develop something which would benefit my people.  But it’s for my people.  Not for the Kol’Nisset.”

Kathryn was saddened.  They would rather exterminate an independent thinker than benefit from her thought.  “So what will you do now?”  she asked softly.

“I don’t know, Captain.”  Aanath considered for a few minutes.  “It seems that I should go back and face whatever consequence may await me.  If I had somehow been successful in trying to prevent their efforts … it would have probably gotten me executed or worse…”  Kathryn wondered what they might come up with that could be worse. “…but not without proving something.  Not without showing that even the all mighty Kol’Nisset could not stop the power of an individual’s thought.”  She sighed and sipped at the hot beverage in the metal cup before her - coffee, a professed favorite of this unusual captain’s - and held its dark, bitter taste in her mouth for a moment.  “It could have been theirs, and they would not have had to try to kill me for it.  The engine is for my people and I would have given it willingly.  But my ideas must be my own.”

Kathryn Janeway looked into her eyes for a moment.   It seemed that she should not be involving her crew in the affairs of the P’al Paraki government.  Yet … it also seemed that there should be something she should do to help, something more than simply returning Aanath, in shame, without her ship, to be imprisoned or executed, and continuing on course to the Alpha Quadrant.  “What if you could return with your ship?”

“But you said the engine was blown to pieces and a portion of the hull as well… and I believe that it would be impossible for you to replicate the materials in the volume I’d require to fix it, it would drain your resources far too much.”

“You’re right …”  Kathryn agreed, and the steel crept into her voice. “… but I think I have an idea.”

 

Lessons - Part 2

Rated - PG

By Kittyhawk (waitressinthesky@operamail.com)

These characters are the property of Paramount and created by Jeri Ryan and Kate Mulgrew and I’m not making any money off this so get off my case.  :oP  If anyone has a problem with chicks gettin’ it on,  you should read something else.

Kathryn Janeway took the Delta Flyer, loaded it up with a few kilos of biomedic gel, and made her way to P’al Parak.  She left Voyager well out of the planet’s sensor range; she wanted to take no chances that the Kol’Nisset could detect Voyager or Aanath Chothraka’s presence on it.  Though initially, the communications center met her vessel with suspicion, as Aanath had told her they would, the captain was smoother than silk and managed to arrange the bargain she sought- a portion of the supply she was carrying for a few tonnes of their elarium.  The engine would require very little of the material, since it was barely the size of Kathryn’s fist; most of it would be for the cooling systems and repairing the gaping hole in the hull.  It had taken Aanath seven or eight weeks working by herself to build the engines and cooling systems-- Voyager repair crews, working on it all three shifts, would take only a few days.

She assigned Seven of Nine to work closely with Aanath on redrawing the schematics and supervising repairs;  she thought that apart from being most qualified other than B’elanna Torres, that Seven was most likely to perhaps enjoy the assignment.  A chance to play with new theoretical designs and watch them put into practice.

“And Seven,”  she’d added, “try and be hospitable to our guest.”

************************************************************************

Aanath’s hearts nearly fell out of her chest when she walked into the Cargo Bay.  The young woman who stood at the work terminal was so unlike any creature she’d seen, so unlike any of the P’al Paraki, who tended to be dark, small, compact.  She was towering, golden, with an economy of movement  like a flower stem in a slight breeze.  “You are … Seven of Nine?”  she asked, quickly composing herself.

“I am.”  She looked up and regarded the alien scientist.  “And you are Aanath Chothraka.”

“I am.  You may simply call me Aanath.”  She walked nearer to the woman.  “The captain has said that you will be able to assist me in the reconstruction of my ship.”

Seven nodded once, barely.  “You have no schematics.”  A question, a statement.  Impossible to tell. 

“There are some skeletal conduit maps in the portion of the computer that wasn’t damaged.  But you are mostly correct, we’ll have to redraw most of them from nothing.  Your captain tells me that you are a skilled technician familiar with the technologies of many species and will be able to help me redraw them.”

Seven studied the scientist’s face.  “I am unfamiliar with your species,”  she admitted.  “My cortical node will contain no specific data regarding your people’s technology.”

“Ah yes, you were Borg.”

Seven was surprised.  “Clearly your species was never successfully assimilated.  How are you aware of the Borg?”

Aanath shrugged.  “We have been lucky.”  Seeing the dubious look on Seven’s face, she amended, “Our space travel is limited, mainly by choice, and not warp-based.  And in our construction and technology, we use very little in the way of metallurgy and have been this way for a very long time.  It has kept us … more or less off the sensors.”

“The elarium.”

“Yes, that’s part of it.”

Seven lifted an eyebrow, slightly.  The only indication that she was mildly impressed with P’al Paraki ingenuity.

“My people are afraid of change.  We had developed many other technologies before we attempted space travel.  By the time we had decided to attempt space travel, we had also developed ways of … being less conspicuous.  Even in recent years, with the demand for elarium growing in our sector, we manage to maintain trade while remaining relatively secluded.”

“Impressive.  However, I fail to see why the captain assumed I would be familiar with your species’ technology.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter!”  Aanath exclaimed, “Even if you were, I designed this engine to be different from anything else my people have built, as I had explained to your captain earlier.  But your captain speaks quite highly of your intelligence and your engineering skill and seemed thoroughly convinced of your ability to help me in this task.”

Seven found herself grow warm at this thought, perhaps a little embarrassed at the idea that the captain had been speaking of her in such glowing terms.  “My skills were given to me by the Collective.”

Aanath took note of her uncomfortable reaction but pressed no further at that moment.  “I will first explain the mechanics of the engine to you, and the cooling systems.  The rest is, I think, not much different from what you are familiar with.”  She glanced around for a chair.  “Is there somewhere to sit in here?”

“I prefer to stand,”  Seven replied.  She paused, remembering the captain’s words ‘be hospitable.’ “But… I will have someone get a chair for you if you wish.”

************************************************************************

Three days of round the clock discussion and mapping of conduits and circuitry had brought them to their goal.  The schematics for the new propulsion systems were completed and Seven and Aanath had assembled the repair team.  Aanath was impressed with Seven’s quick understanding of the conceptual pretzel that was meta-stream power generation.  Seven was impressed with Aanath’s flawless design and facility with complex power transfer algorithms.  It was virtually impossible for Voyager to make use of this technology due to the metals being sensitive to these particles, but as a theoretical exercise, it was indeed intriguing.  The discussions went quickly and easily, Seven interpreting the specifications before they were all the way out of Aanath’s mouth.  “You are most efficient,”  Seven commented to her.

Aanath’s long lashes fluttered down to her cheeks.  By now, she had worked enough with Seven to know that this was praise from Caesar.  “Thank you, Seven.  I find your work remarkable as well.  The crew will be able to build from these specifications in very little time.”

“I did not expect a return compliment.  The captain merely suggested that I be hospitable.”  There was the faintest hint of … what?  Humor? 

Aanath studied her face.  “So you don’t find it at all inefficient that I’m rebuilding a ship to return to my government so that they can execute me and appropriate my technology?”

The corner of Seven’s mouth quirked slightly, so slightly.  “The value of proving to those who would oppress you that you cannot be oppressed is considerable.  I understand perhaps better than anyone on this ship the worth of an individual’s thoughts and the privacy of an individual’s mind, because I have been without it.”

Aanath was moved by the emotion that roiled in the former drone’s voice, thrashing beneath the calm surface of her face.

“I was … angry…”  she continued, “when Captain Janeway removed me forcibly from the Collective, because it was all that I knew, but I am learning the value of my individual freedom, just as your people will learn from you.”

The Gamma shift repair team arrived for the first shift of actual construction, and work continued on into the night.

************************************************************************

Kathryn sat with her legs curled beneath her, drinking a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold, trying to keep her mind on the reports.  But she couldn’t shake an odd feeling that had come over her since earlier that evening when she walked into the cargo bay and found Aanath and Seven chatting easily.  It was all science talk, but still … and then Seven had cancelled their  game to give Aanath a tour of astrometrics on one of the few breaks that they’d taken during the last three days, with the remark, “You have instructed me to be … hospitable to our guest.”

And Kathryn couldn’t argue.

But she wished she could.  She wished that she did not feel so committed to the scientist’s cause, wished that she could ask her to simply leave.  It wasn’t so much that she was jealous of the comfortable rapport that had seemed to develop between Seven and Aanath in the last few days, it was …

It was ridiculous, Kathryn thought to herself.  It was all simply maternal protectiveness, she told herself.  The ache in her chest, the ache in her body, the sound of something inside her straining till it was about to snap, told her otherwise, but she ignored those sounds, and stared at a report that she would not remember in the morning.

************************************************************************

Aanath and Seven were in the mess hall, mainly because Aanath required a break.  Her endurance was admirable but nothing close to Seven’s.  Seven would be the first to say that pleasure was irrelevant but if held at phaser-point, she would be forced to admit she was enjoying working in the company of this scientist-turned-freedom-fighter.

Aanath, meanwhile, was smitten with Seven of Nine;  she was so unlike anyone Aanath had ever known.  She could hear in Seven’s voice that great passions raged beneath the cool surface, and wondered about those passions were, or if the young woman understood them.  She chose to press a topic that had caused her some earlier curiosity.

“Seven, have you ever had a romantic partner on Voyager?”

Seven’s jaw worked as if she were chewing on the words to make them more palatable.  “I am … unskilled in these matters.”

Aanath smiled.  “Most people would say that of themselves.  But,”  she persisted, “have you ever had a lover on board this ship?”

“I have never had a lover.”  Her tone was remote, indicating she wished the topic closed.

But Aanath persisted.  “Have you wanted one?”

“I fail to see the relevance of this topic.  We should be discussing the launch logistics.”

“We have already established all we need to establish about them.  Please…”  She dropped her voice, changed her tone to a more pleading one.  “I am enjoying getting to know you, Seven of Nine.  In the little time I have left here, I would like to simply know more about you.”

Seven paused.  “I suppose it would be… inhospitable of me to deny your request.  I will comply.”  She sipped at her nutritional supplement to stall before revealing,  “I have had one date with a male member of this crew on which I managed to assault him with shellfish and then break his arm.”

Aanath laughed, a small, sparkly little sound.  At Seven’s scowl, she apologized.  “I’m sorry Seven, it just sounds very much like my own clumsy courtship efforts when I was a young girl.”

“I was not a young girl,”  Seven said, a bit too harshly.

Aanath nodded sympathetically.  “But that’s it?  You gave up?”

“I did not, ‘give up,’” Seven retorted.  “After reviewing the crew manifest, I concluded there were no suitable mates for me on board Voyager.”

“Just like that.  Hm.  What about the captain?”

Seven was incredulous.  “The Captain.”

“Why not?”

“Because the captain does not fraternize with members of her crew.”

Aanath noted Seven’s strategic omission of her own feelings toward the formidable older woman.  “That’s a shame.  It’s obvious to me that she cares for you deeply.”

“As much as she does any member of the crew,”  Seven responded too quickly, sounding defensive even to her own ears.

Aanath smiled knowingly.  “That’s not what I mean, Seven.  She holds you in a special place in her heart.  I am a scientist, but I’ve also been a teacher for some time now, and I have come to see dynamics between people very easily.  The captain cares for you, it’s obvious to me.  It’s how she speaks of you.  The color that comes to her face when she extolls your name, the conviction in her voice. She speaks fondly of others on this ship, but not the way she speaks of you.  Do you mean you have never seen this?”

“You are mistaken.”  Seven insisted.

“I’m not.”  Aanath was curious now.  “You would never consider taking your captain as a mate?”

“The captain is … my friend …”  Seven tasted the words, still new to her.  “…and my mentor.”

“Does that mean you would not?”  Aanath pressed.

“Of course not!”  Seven  exclaimed.  “We … should get back to work.”  She rose abruptly, nearly knocking over her unfinished cup of nutritional supplement, and marched quickly to the door.

Aanath looked puzzled, but followed Seven out of the mess hall and down to the turbolift.  “So you have never …?”

Seven stopped and turned sharply.  “Copulated?  No.  Not with the captain.  Not with anyone.”  There was a ragged shame and frustration in her rich voice, a slight flush to her cheek..  She turned on her heel and continued down the hall.

Aanath tripped along after her.  “Wait, Seven … I didn’t mean to embarrass you … I just wanted to know if …”

“You did not embarrass me,” Seven insisted, almost fiercely, walking faster still.

“Then why are you running??”  Aanath demanded, her breath growing shallow as she struggled to keep up with Seven’s long strides.

Seven slowed down reluctantly and allowed the scientist to match her pace.

“Seven, listen to me… I only asked because I … have felt something for you as we worked these past few days, and … wondered if it would be possible to … share something with you.”  Her eyes were wide, honest, the purplish strands dilating as she stared into Seven’s shocked face.

“Share something,”  Seven echoed back.  They walked together into the turbolift as Seven turned this over in her mind.  “With me.”

“Yes, with you.”  The doors hissed shut, and one of them murmured a command to the computer.  “Only if you wish.  And if you don’t wish it, we can simply continue our work together until it is my time to leave.”

Seven’s brow furrowed.  “If you have ‘feelings’ for me, then why do you wish to leave?”

“Because I must.  Because of the importance of what I must do.  You said yourself you understand the value of it.  I’m sorry to have met you at this time in my life ... we couldn’t have a life together, not the way you could with a member of this crew, but … but we can still share something in the time that I’m here.”

Seven suddenly grasped her meaning, and felt the color drain from her cheeks.  “As I have told you,”  she responded, her voice small and uncertain, “I am inexperienced in these matters.  I would not be a good choice.”

Aanath leaned back against the turbolift wall and felt the conduit pulse behind her.  “Seven, I am a teacher.  It gives me joy to show someone new concepts and new experiences.”  She took Seven’s arm excitedly.  “You could learn.”

Finally, Seven thought.  Someone with some helpful information.

************************************************************************

The procedure for mating with alien species was slightly involved.  It had to be cleared with both the Doctor and the captain, and in cases where it applied, the superior officers or cultural representatives of the visiting alien race.  Fortunately, in Aanath’s case, she wasn’t even supposed to be alive, as far as her government was concerned, so the Doctor felt it was safe to assume they had a green light so long as the captain approved.  He was somewhat surprised when the two came to sickbay seeking the examinations, perhaps a bit envious, but he did his best keep his vinegar commentary to a minimum and send the young ladies off with his blessing.  He offered to spare them some discomfort by seeking the captain’s permission on their behalf, something that the even tempered scientist seemed amenable to, but Seven insisted that she take the request to the captain personally.

The computer told her that the captain was in Holodeck Two.  She found the computer running a program;  Earth, Indiana, midsummer.  She hesitated.  She knew this was likely to be a representation of the captain’s home.  Was this something highly personal that the captain might not want interrupted?  She checked the panel, and there appeared to be no security restrictions on the door.  Seven turned away.  Perhaps she should visit the captain later, in her quarters.  She turned back to the door.  She wanted to get this over with.  She realized with some dismay that she had been loitering outside the holodeck door for precisely three point four minutes.  Was she afraid?  I am Borg, she reminded herself.  You are procrastinating, her mind answered her.  She walked inside.

The doors hissed shut behind her and vanished.  She was surprised by this vast open space.  She’d spent her entire existence on starships from the time she was a child, and then in her life as a Borg, and now on Voyager, and had known little else.  These oceanic fields nodding softly in the winds were a different and, it occurred to her, welcome sight.  The air was warm and thick.  She found herself standing in front of the porch of a white clapboard house, looking out onto a long field of golden grass that stretched as far as she could see.  At the horizon, it met with the sky, where a dark rain cloud was building, filling up with thunder, and slowly moving in over the plain.  “Captain Janeway!”  she called out, turning around slowly and taking in the huge expanse.  Only a representation, she knew, but so very real.

“Come on in, Seven, I’ve got some bread in the oven,” came the unmistakable contralto tones from behind her.

She found the captain leaning in the doorway of the little house, where she hadn’t been a moment ago.  “Captain.  It appears your program is malfunctioning.  It is about to rain.”

“Well you better get inside then, unless you want to get soaked to the bone.”  The captain’s eyes were dancing as she beckoned inside and swung the creaky screen door open.  Seven drew nearer and noticed the captain’s hands and forearms were covered with flour and that she had a smear of something else on her face.  She followed the captain inside the little house, where the warm smells of baking permeated the air, and breezes through the open windows tugged gently at the curtains.

“And it’s not malfunctioning, Seven.  I asked for a little thunderstorm.”  As if on cue, the low rumble of thunder caused the floorboards to vibrate.

“Why?”

“For an excuse to bake some bread.”  The captain smiled, and peered into the oven. 

Seven was bewildered at what a thunderstorm could have to do with baking bread.  But she noted the captain’s good humor.  She seemed relaxed, at ease in these primitive environs.  Seven would never have envisioned her in this element, but seeing her here, even in her Starfleet-issue casuals, seemed the most natural thing in the world.  “I was unaware of your culinary skills, captain,”  Seven observed, watching as the captain knelt down and opened the oven door.

Kathryn laughed, warm and throaty.  “It’s because I have none, Seven.  For goodness’s sake, this is the only way you can get me to bake anything -- with safety protocols!”  She turned from the oven.  “What can I do for you, Seven?”

“I have come to have a discussion with you regarding sex,” she announced.

Kathryn laughed softly.  “My little girl is growing up.  Is it that time?”  She padded around the kitchen, looking for something.  She found the oven mitts on the small table where she’d left them a minute ago.

“It is … that time.”  Seven laid the PADD down on the table.  “I have decided I can learn best by doing.  Practical application.”

Kathryn donned the oven mitt, and made a great project of staring into the opened oven as if it contained all the universe rather than a loaf of simulated bread.  “Well, Seven… I don’t know what you had in mind…”  She wasn’t sure where Seven was heading but either way, she wasn’t quite sure she was prepared for it.  She reached into the oven and slid the tray forward to remove the bread.

“I have sought authorization from the Doctor and he has approved.  I am going to learn with Aanath Chothraka.”

Another rumble of thunder, this one much louder and closer.  The bread fell off the tray and Kathryn barely managed to catch it.  Fortunately for safety protocols, her arms didn’t get burned in the process.  She took a moment to catch her breath and placed the bread on the cutting board beside the sink, thankful that she could blame her near miss on the thunder rather than her young charge’s revelation.

“I now require authorization from you as well.”  Seven continued, watching the captain focusing too intently on the apparently rebellious bread.

Kathryn placed her mittened hands on the counter to support her own weight, and looked at Seven.  She knew it would happen some day, but she never expected that it would be now, and despite her irrational jealousy, had never honestly expected that it would be the scientist.  She sought Seven’s face for something, a sign of … of what?  Did she want to see evidence that Seven was head over heels in love?  Did she want the opposite, to see that it was purely a clinical experiment?  She didn’t know.  If Seven had wanted it to be her instead of the scientist, she couldn’t have accommodated that request anyway. She found her tongue.  “I assume the Doctor found no medical reasons to forbid it?”

Seven’s gaze was steady, searching her captain’s face.  “He has not.  I simply require … your …”  She found the word that the Doctor had used earlier. “…blessing. And…”  She flushed a little.  “…and any advice you might have.”

Kathryn realized that the tension in her neck must be showing in her whole face.  She softened a little and forced herself to remember how difficult this must be for Seven, who was thrown into an adult body with adult needs without the benefit of the preceding little bumps and bruises that teach us how to cope with others, enjoy ourselves, take pleasure in being with someone for the sake of being with them.  Kathryn doffed the mitts and moved closer to Seven.  Seven had just declared that they were friends for the first time a only a few days ago, and now she was putting that to the test.  Kathryn pushed her pointless jealousy aside, and placed a flour-covered hand on her shoulder.  “Seven, of course I’ll sign the approval.  And as for advice … well …”  She smiled crookedly.  “Do you care for her, Seven?”

Seven found herself unable to answer simply.  “We are colleagues… I find her … interesting and intelligent.  I do not think that we are… friends.”

Kathryn smiled softly, bitterly.  “It sounds like you’re still figuring out how you feel about her.”

Seven nodded.

“Well, you don’t have a lot of time to figure that out.”  She sighed.  “Don’t let her break your heart.”  She hooked her other hand up around Seven’s neck and sighed again.  “My only advice is…”  Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.  “Enjoy yourself.  Enjoy her.”  She pulled Seven close to her and hugged her hard.  “Good luck, Seven.”

Seven’s heart sped up as she felt this embrace, and found herself returning it.  Aanath’s earlier comments in the mess hall came flooding back to her.  But it could not be true.  It must be a mistake.  They were friends.  Still, she gripped the captain’s body in her arms for a moment, was acutely conscious of her breathing, of the weight of the smaller woman’s head against her shoulder.  She ran her implant-meshed hand over the auburn hair once, briefly, before she let go.

Kathryn’s chin was set and determined as she walked to the table to place her print on the forms.  Seven watched, wondering what it was she had just felt.  It was the first time that she had casually touched the captain in that manner.  Determined not to ascribe meaning to it, she merely said, “Thank you, Captain.  For … everything.”

Kathryn choked back the heat behind her eyes that was threatening to build, and handed Seven the PADD.  “Seven, there is one more piece of advice I can give you.”

Seven lifted an eyebrow expectantly.

Kathryn gave a strange half smile.  “Let your hair down.  It’ll stop her heart.”

Seven nodded, and began pulling the pins out of her hair and running her fingers through it as she walked out of the house and down to the dirt path to the holodeck entrance.  Kathryn watched her go, the measured movements of that incredible frame that she had come to know so well, watched the hair coming loose in pieces and turning to solid golden breeze as she walked away.  Something wrenched in her heart.  Something else wrenched in her groin.  As the rain began to pour down outside the house, falling in large, wet drops against the glass, she stumbled to a wing chair in the living room and choked on sobs and self induced orgasms for the next two hours.

 

************************************************************************

 

The pair had spent the remainder of the day supervising the repair crew, but Aanath had been right; with the schematics they had drawn up, the new engines would be on line sooner than expected.  Seven was amazed that she was not more distracted by the event that was on their schedule for the evening.  Their rapport was not very different than it had been before; if anything, it was easier, because there was no longer something on Aanath’s mind.  It was only as they walked into Aanath’s darkened guest quarters that Seven began to feel anxious and unsure of herself.

“How would you like to proceed?”  she inquired, trying to maintain composure.  “We should remove our clothing.”

“We’re not mapping a power relay,”  Aanath said with a smile.  “We will not remove our clothing… yet.”

“What is the delay?”  Seven asked, suddenly feeling out of her element, as if she did not belong with this woman.

“The delay,” Aanath answered patiently, “is that you are here to learn, and I am here to enjoy teaching you, and we have all night.  It is better if you actually allow yourself to take your time and enjoy it.”

Seven was startled at those words, said with such emphasis, so similar to the way the captain had said them.  “I see.”

“No, you don’t, at least not yet.”  Aanath sat down on the bed.  “It strikes me that you haven’t had much in the way of physical contact at all, so we’re going to start slowly.”  She patted the bed next to her.  “Come and sit with me, Seven of Nine.”

Seven complied, sitting next to the serious young scientist who was clearly warming to her lesson.  Aanath ran a hand through Seven’s loosened hair.  “It looks much better when you wear it this way.”

“It is inefficient,” Seven countered, “It gets in my way as I work.”

“We are not here to discuss efficiency.”  Aanath continued running her hands through Seven’s hair, more vigorously.  Massaging her scalp, lightly scratching, playing with the golden strands that fascinated her so.  “How does this feel to you?”

Seven paused.  She admitted, “It is a pleasant sensation.”

“Now, you will pretend for the rest of this encounter that pleasure is relevant.  Your pleasure…”  She pulled Seven’s hair and brought her head further back, tracing the contour of her jaw with one finger.  “…my pleasure …It is a philosophical experiment wherein we are assuming the premise that pleasure is the first priority.”  She continued to massage Seven’s head and neck, stroking her hair, speaking gently and clearly.  “Am I currently meeting that requirement?”

“It is pleasant… but I do not understand…”

Aanath brought a finger to Seven’s lips.  “You will understand.  I want you to see that this involves the sharing of one’s whole body.  So I’m giving you pleasure in one of many ways.”

She guided Seven to lie down on her stomach, and began to massage her back, digging her fingers into the long strips of muscle down either side of her spine, occasionally finding a small, hard protrusion that elicited a gasp from the body beneath her.  “Is this pleasurable to you, or painful?”

“It is pleasurable.”

“What are these?”  Aanath asked, fingering one of the protrusions she had discovered.

“They are power receptors,”  Seven murmured, taking note of each of the ways that she was being touched and the different kinds of pleasure they caused.  “They… they have never been touched since I was disconnected from the collective.”

“Because they are buried in muscle tissues,”  Aanath finished, “and no one has ever touched you in this manner before.”  She continued her work, slowly massaging, softly rubbing the power receptors in Seven’s back in deliberate circles.  “It is only logical that you should be aware of what your body enjoys and responds to.  Without that knowledge, you are disconnected from yourself and your humanity.”

“Pleasure is… is …”  Seven began helplessly.  She had always declared that pleasure was irrelevant but she had no recent memory of such an intense, base form of pleasure.

“Why we are here,”  the scientist said softly.  “Remember that.  That is our premise.”  She stopped working on Seven’s back and turned her over, slowly spreading her own body down the length of Seven’s.  “Have you been embraced before?”

Seven could not help thinking of the embrace that she had shared earlier with the captain; intense, awkward, and shot with emotions that she could not name.  “Yes,”  was all she said in response.

“But not like this.”

“No,” Seven admitted, “Not like this.”  She wished that it had been.  Aanath was lying on top of her, slowly moving against her.  Seven felt her weight, felt the hand clasping the back of her neck, noted that she enjoyed it.  Felt the smaller woman’s breath on her neck, felt the fingers and hands stroking her body and searching it, deliberately, for more surprises.  Seven was surprised to find her back arching into Aanath’s body, increasing the pressure of the embrace.  Her human hand nested itself in Aanath’s glossy black curls as something dark and sweet bubbled up inside her.

Aanath’s hands stroked lightly over her, her face, her neck, her shoulders… very lightly over her breasts.  Aanath smiled with satisfaction as the nipples rose up through the fabric of the suit.  Seven’s eyes blazed as she looked down at Aanath, feeling all of these little shocking pleasures and wanting a satisfaction she could not articulate.

Aanath laid her head in the hollow of Seven’s neck and kissed softly.  Seven maintained the embrace, her mind racing as the gentle physical contacts continued.  She very much wished that it had been like this with the captain, that instead of seeking her permission to engage in this with Aanath, that she had engaged in it with her, the friend who had given her life, who placed faith in her, who continued to show caring for her even through irreconcilable conflict, who caused her to feel such raw emotion that she could not even define it for fear it would overwhelm her…

Aanath looked up, her eyes dark and her mouth serious.  “Seven.  Where are you?”

Seven was confused.  “I am here.”

Aanath shook her head.  “But your mind is elsewhere.”  She continued stroking Seven’s hair, softly.  “Where is your mind, Seven of Nine?  I can’t show you what this is if you aren’t here in it with me.”

Seven’s mouth twitched.  She could not answer.  She would not.  She dared not say it because if she said it, it would become real.

But Aanath knew.  “Your mind is with the captain, is it not?”

Seven stared at her, at a rare loss for words. 

“Seven, I told you, I have made a career of watching people and understanding the way that they interact, it is crucial to how I communicate with them.  I know of the bond you share with her, and even if I didn’t, I can see the way you strive to please her in your work, how much your personal time with her means to you.  I know what it meant that you cancelled your plans with her the other night to show me around, because you thought it would please her that you were ‘being hospitable’.  I can see it clearly, even if you can’t.”

Seven flushed.  Of course she could see it, she just had no wish to admit to it, because then she would be forced to feel it, and then of course to suffer with it, because the captain would never-

“Seven, please talk with me.  I do desire you, very much, but my wish is to help you as much as you are helping me.”  She looked intently at her, squeezed her shoulder.  “I am starting to feel that it would not help you if I were to share my desires with you tonight.  There is someone else with whom you should share this.  Tell me I’m right.”

Seven considered Aanath’s words for a long moment.  Her vision began to blur and she felt warmth on her cheeks.  Aanath stroked her, wiping away the tears.  “You love her so much, and you don’t even begin to know how to express it.”  She started to move off of Seven, to embrace her in a less sensual way, but the enhanced arms and their formidable strength held her tightly.

Seven’s weeping was silent, barely expressive as tears poured out through half closed eyes, jaw locking to contain the sounds humans make when they cry.  She was bound up within herself, wanting to express regret that she had agreed to this interaction and was now finding herself unprepared to complete it.  Not even knowing what these things were that were hurting so much, she held on tightly to the woman in her arms if only to reassure herself that these feelings had not broken her into pieces.  “I have attempted … sex …”  she began, speaking slowly to control the quaking in her voice.  “I have never… been successful … perhaps I should not …”

Aanath stroked Seven’s hair some more.  “Of course you should.  Everyone should.  Mating is a beautiful thing, at least among my people.  Like yours, we mate for pleasure sometimes, but we also mate for life, and sometimes this requires some trial and error.  And sometimes the one you finally choose comes as a surprise.”

“But the captain is … not …”  How many ways to finish that sentence?  Not interested in mating?  Not interested in mating with women?  Not interested in mating with me?

Aanath smiled gently, squeezing Seven closer to her.  “Seven, Seven … the two of you would have many things to discuss if you were to try, but look at yourself … You’re crying in the arms of someone you barely know, and why?  Would it not be worth telling her if it could ease this pain?” 

Seven focused on her breathing till it steadied.  Of course the scientist was correct; she could not imagine feeling this pain for much longer. “I wish to apologize to you…I have disappointed you.”

“I will be more disappointed if you don’t march to your captain and tell her what you feel.”

“Now?”  The thought was too frightening. 

“You should compose yourself, but yes … tonight.  Why would you wait?”  She squeezed Seven’s shoulder.  “You are Borg.  What is the delay?”  she teased.

“But I do not know what I feel.  It will offend her if I simply tell her that I wish to mate with her.”

Aanath smiled again.  “Well, perhaps.  But you must start someplace.”

Seven looked appalled.

“Think about why you wish to mate with her.  Think about what she makes you feel.  And then tell her.”

 

Lessons - Part 3

Rated - PG

By Kittyhawk (waitressinthesky@operamail.com)

These characters are the property of Paramount and created by Jeri Ryan and Kate Mulgrew and I’m not making any money off this so get off my case.  :oP  If anyone has a problem with chicks gettin’ it on,  you should read something else.

 

Seven did not go to the captain that night, as Aanath had urged her to.  She used the excuse of having to receive shift briefings on the Gamma shift team’s work on the meta-stream ship.  After receiving the briefings, Seven made her way to Commander Tuvok’s door and sounded the comm.

“Enter.”

She walked into the darkened cabin, where she found Tuvok seated on the floor, meditating.  “You are busy,”  she realized.  “I will come back at another time.”

Tuvok opened his eyes and regarded the young woman, or as much as he could see of her in the low light.  He picked up an urgency in her voice.  People often made the mistake of assuming that because Vulcans were not ruled by passions that they did not understand them or were oblivious to them.  But Tuvok had clear memories of the rages and hungers that burned in him as a young man, those desires which controlled him, and consumed him.  He kept those memories close with him, to remember what it meant to have a soul so plagued.  “Please sit down, Seven of Nine.”

Seven approached, and joined him on the meditation rug.  “Thank you.”

“Do you require assistance?”

Seven had thought all the way here about how to phrase her request for his assistance.  Some social lessons with the Doctor had come creeping back: “Lesson 38, Flattery will get you everywhere.”   “Commander, I have come to you for advice on something.  Your Vulcan mind is extremely logical and you have been better at assisting me in diagnosing my emotional responses than most of the others on the ship.  My condition is severe, and I must also request that it remain entirely confidential.”

“Does your condition pose the crew any danger?”

“I do not believe so.”

Tuvok had spent more time dissecting and logically breaking down his own emotions than anyone on the ship.  His studies with the Vulcan master had allowed him to hold up to the light and remove the mystery from every emotional response there ever was.  “Then you may proceed.”

“I wish to mate with someone,”  she began.

“The scientist,”  Tuvok answered, anticipating the direction of the discussion.

Seven attempted to remain unruffled but clearly was surprised and irritated.  “You have heard already?”

“The walls, as Mr. Paris is fond of saying, have ears,”  he responded.

“Apparently they also have mouths,”  she grumbled. “My attempt to mate with Aanath was … not completed,”  Seven explained, sounding pained.  “It was not successful because … I realized that there was someone else with whom I would prefer to mate.”

Tuvok let this declaration rest in the air, saying nothing, and allowed her to continue.

“I do believe that it is sexual desire, however I also experienced … intense emotional reactions as well.  I wish to make my feelings known to her, but I cannot do so until I can better explain them.”

Tuvok lifted an eyebrow.  “Walking into someone’s room and asking them to mate with you does have strong potential to be ill received.”

Seven had known as much, though it made little sense to her. Anything but the direct route was confusing.  “You are married.”

“I am.”

“Why did you wish to take a mate?  You are not like the humans on this ship, who are enslaved by emotions.  I have asked Ensign Kim to explain why there must be a complex interaction surrounding the mating process, but…” She paused, growing annoyed at the memory of their conversation and of Ensign Kim snapping that if she didn’t understand it, that he couldn’t explain it.   “I have gotten more help on this subject from Naomi Wildman than I have from him.”

“Indeed, Ensign Kim’s own passions may be too much for him to rationally discuss the matter with you.”  Tuvok leaned forward.  “Vulcans mate for life.  I and my mate were joined because we could assist one another in the completion of our individual goals, and could also share goals as a partnership.  We fill voids in one another.  In skills, in character, in logical discourse, she is in many ways my equal, but in more important ways, my complement.  And…”  Speaking of his wife was causing him to feel her absence a bit too deeply.  “… her company is exceptional.”

Seven considered his words.  “It is difficult for you to be without her,”  she concluded.

Tuvok assented.  “But, may I remind you,  you came to discuss what is troubling you.”

“There is someone … for whom it is difficult for me to be without.  Someone who is … a friend.”  She steadied herself on these words like a newborn filly walking for the first time.  “I… find that time in her company…cannot come frequently enough.  She has taken great care with me, and she does not fear me or doubt me as most of the others do.  And, it is as you say, we share many common goals ... But I cannot imagine that she feels this same desire for me.”

“Is it interfering with your regenerating and your nourishment?”

“I am regenerating normally.  I have felt this need for her presence for some time, and believed it was the result of close friendship, but I now believe it is more than … friendship;  it would be … complicated… if I were able to convince her that we should pursue a… a partnership… yet I find that I can not dismiss the thought.”

Tuvok suspected that he knew the identity of Seven’s object of affection.  “I am curious, given your closeness, why you would  not discuss this matter with the captain?”

“I cannot,”  Seven answered quickly.

That was enough to confirm his suspicions.  “Your experience with the scientist has made you aware of the connection between the physical and the emotional sides of the way that humans mate, which you did not understand before.”

Seven grew petulant.  “I would prefer to mate as Vulcans do, it is less … confusing.”

“But no less difficult.  It is still a challenge.  Taking a mate means that they are part of your every decision, and you are part of theirs.  It is challenging to reconcile the deep conflicts of character that come naturally with even the most compatible pairings,”  he cautioned her.  “Do not enter lightly into this situation, Seven of Nine.  The emotions this woman inspires in you are far more complex than a mere state of infatuation.  Whoever this is…”  He paused meaningfully. “…she has taken an honored and important place in your heart and mind, and you must acknowledge that.  Take great care in how you approach her.”

They sat together quietly, in the dark.  She found Tuvok’s company to be comfortable enough, because he was content to sit with her in silence for several minutes without needing to fill up the moment with conversation about something that interested neither of them.  It occurred to her that he knew who she meant, but was choosing to allow her the privacy of her feelings, and after having just heard how quickly her association with Aanath had gotten around the ship, she appreciated it.  She considered the Vulcan’s explanation for his mating with his wife, and found sense in it.  She wondered if it really did work the same way for humans, and that they simply preferred to maintain the mystery of emotion out of some irrational need for ‘magic’.

At length, she decided.  “Thank you, Commander.  I will assemble my words carefully tonight, and speak to her tomorrow.” 

************************************************************************

Six hundred hours came far too early for Kathryn Janeway.  Her day yesterday had been brutal, and she only hoped as she rolled out of bed, that this one might be better.  The comm burbled.

“What the hell…?”  she grumbled.  “Who is it?”

“Seven of Nine.”

Kathryn sighed heavily.  “Come in, Seven.”

The door hissed open and shut, as Seven strode in, looking oddly drained and less arrogant than usual.  “Good morning, Captain.”

“Good morning, Seven.  I hope this is important and you didn’t just come to chat.”  Her auburn hair was disheveled and she was rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes to wake up.

Seven walked to the replicator and punched in the key commands for a cup of black coffee.  The beverage obediently materialized, steaming.  She handed it to the captain and watched her expectantly.

“Thank you, Seven.”  Kathryn gratefully gulped the first mouthful of steaming, bitter coffee and felt herself begin to awake.  “Now, I know you didn’t come here just to bring me my coffee.”

“I did not.”  Seven had been fretting all night, tapping words into a PADD, deleting them, practicing them aloud in the cargo bay, pacing, inspecting them.  But now, standing here before her captain, she felt oddly calm, and somehow confident that it would be said the way it needed to be.  “I came here to talk to you about mating.”

Kathryn’s heart bunched up in her chest.  “Seven, I have to be on duty in a half hour, I’m afraid that talking about Aanath will have to wait until-”

“It cannot,” Seven interrupted, softly but forcefully.  Kathryn was startled.  “You do not understand.  I do not wish to discuss my association with the scientist Aanath.  That is not why I am here.  I chose not to pursue that course of action last night because I realized that I did not wish to mate with her.  She is not a logical choice for me.”  She leveled her gaze at the captain’s eyes, which were staring at her with an expression that Seven couldn’t identify.  “And ... my attentions were elsewhere.  It was she who in fact explained to me that I would be best served by simply pursuing the path that I wished rather than attempting to keep my attentions with her, where they were not.”

Kathryn took another swig of her coffee and set it down, anticipating that whatever Seven was about to say next was probably going to cause her to drop it anyway.  “Where were they, Seven?”  she whispered, barely able to speak.

“Captain …”  Seven considered what she was about to say and realized that it was more appropriate to use her given name.  “Kathryn Janeway,”  she said more softly.  “I do not understand the ways in which humans choose their mates.  So I can only choose to define what I feel in terms that I can understand and communicate to you.  But I… feel… that… you must be the only choice for me.  Last night, my attentions were… with you.”

Kathryn’s knees were watery underneath her, so she collapsed into her nearby chair.  “Seven, I can’t…”

“Please, let me finish, Kathryn.  I have thought very carefully about the words I want to use, to make you understand what I feel, so please, let me make use of them.”  Seven moved closer to the captain, towering over her.  She felt a rush of tenderness at the apprehension in the older woman’s eyes, realized that perhaps Aanath had been right, the captain’s feelings were deeper than either of them had been willing to admit, and perhaps frightening to her.  “It is… difficult for me to be without you.  I find your company … exceptional.  I have come to require it.  Even after this much time serving on this ship, I find that you still manage to surprise me, and impress me, and as you know… that is unusual.”  They shared a small smile at the young woman’s surprising gibe at her own arrogance.  “I do not wish to ‘fraternize’, Kathryn.  Please do not reduce my feelings to that and use it as a reason to deny me.  To realize how well you suit me, how much your human passion is necessary to my Borg efficiency, has… come as a surprise to me.  But Aanath has told me that mating for life involves trial and error, and that sometimes, it is indeed a surprise to discover with whom it is that you belong.”

Kathryn could barely breathe.  She stared at Seven, her hands shaking.  Mating for life?  “Seven… what are you asking?”  she croaked.  Her voice was still a little hoarse from all her rather vocal weeping and wailing last evening and there was, she suspected, about to be more.

“I wish to… I wish to mate with you, Kathryn Janeway.  I believe that we can achieve more together in such a partnership than we could in our current association.  And …”  She finally realized that perhaps it might make Kathryn more comfortable if they were on eye level, and knelt down in front of her chair.  She took her hand, noticing the tremble in the delicate bones.  “…I wish for that partnership to be complete in every way.  It causes me pain that I cannot touch you in the ways that I wish to.  I have concluded that I am in love with you, and I must know… if you believe you can return this feeling.”  She looked expectantly at Kathryn Janeway, who was too stunned to speak, and had tears in her eyes.

Kathryn squeezed Seven’s hand.  And before she realized it, she had wrapped both of her arms around Seven and was holding her, hard.  She could barely breathe, as the scent of Seven’s skin, and the metallic tang of her implants, the feel of their breasts pressed together, all coalesced and overwhelmed her.

“Have I sufficiently expressed myself?”  Seven breathed, drinking in the proximity, squeezing Kathryn’s shoulders and then her waist, wanting to make this contact last as long as she could.

“Seven,”  was all Kathryn could manage.  The young woman who had come to her not knowing her own emotions and body had just made the clearest, simplest, most honest declaration of love she had ever heard.  It shook her to the core.  They’d never so much as kissed, and Seven was on her knees asking her, more or less, to marry her.  She could see the conviction, could hear it in the young woman’s voice.  Suddenly, all the risks she’d ever taken to save her, all the efforts she’d made to guide her through every new turmoil, became transparent.  She could no longer disguise her love for the former drone who had blossomed so beautifully into this woman whose unadorned, artless confession of love was more moving to her than the most eloquent poetry.  She breathed Seven’s hair, and finally managed a very shaky, “Seven, I love you.”

Seven pulled away far enough to make eye contact.  “But now you will tell me why we cannot.”

Kathryn was weak under the unblinking gaze of those clear eyes, the unfailing analytical intelligence behind them.  “I suppose you have answers for everything already.”

Seven smiled the smallest of smiles and said, “Would you expect any less of me?”  She stroked Kathryn’s hair.  “I can give these reasons to you now, if you wish.”  Her metal-emmeshed hand dropped down to Kathryn’s thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin silk of the sleep clothes.  “Or I can kiss you.”

Kathryn’s skin leapt at the feel of that contact, at the thought of those words, at the look in Seven’s eyes that said she would rather do the latter.  There was no choice.  She pulled Seven to her with the urgency of someone who has been starving, brought the lush mouth to her own, and kissed her.  Kathryn felt something move inside her, like the great stone off the mouth of a tomb, and felt this light of passion pour in, the sweetness of being alive that she had denied herself for so long.  Seven answered with equal urgency, the heat exploding through her veins, that dark, sweet thing she had felt so faintly before now coursing through her stronger than liquor.  They devoured each other for several moments, until Kathryn tumbled out of the chair like a tidal wave and toppled Seven backward onto the floor, wrestling her, feeling her with the full length of her own body and knowing a hot wash of desire.  After some minutes of this, Seven came up for a breath.  “It… is more than I imagined,” she gasped, looking up into the eyes of her dearest friend, her captain, and, she hoped, soon to be mate.

“Ditto,”  was all that Kathryn had the breath for.  Seven looked confused.  “Meaning,”  Kathryn explained further, “that I would have said much the same thing if I’d caught my breath first.”

Seven lifted her head and began to nip at the side of Kathryn’s neck.  Kathryn placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down.  “Seven, we can’t do anything now, I have to be on the bridge in half an hour and I can’t show up looking… or feeling… like this.”  There was a great deal of moisture between her legs, which she did not convey for fear the young woman would not allow her out of the room if she knew it.  “And … we do have a great deal to talk about before we do anything more.”

“Does this mean you will choose me?”  Seven asked, an uncharacteristic eagerness in her voice.

Kathryn smiled crookedly.  “It means, we have a lot to talk about.”  She nudged Seven and tried to stand up.  When her first effort failed, Seven helped her to her feet, gripping her waist in a way that was new, with a hand that felt more intimate and familiar.  “Seven, I want you to know that I think it’s more than possible for me to return your feelings.  I do return them.  But we also have to talk about a lot of reasons why something might not work between us.”

“I will convince you,”  Seven answered with certainty.  She had heard the captain’s admission of love, she had felt her warm lips and discovered kissing them to be a more powerful experience than she expected.  It would be enough to sustain her today.

The comm burbled.  “Bridge to Captain Janeway, you’d better get up here.”

“Damnit,”  Kathryn grumbled.  “On my way!”  As she instinctively began to hurry out of her nightclothes, she realized that Seven was watching her with keen interest.   She pointed to the door.  “You, out.”

“But if we are to be mates…”  Seven began to object.

We aren’t yet,”  Kathryn snapped.  Her arm remained rigid, pointing to the door.  “Report to your post, crewman.”

Seven smiled slyly and responded, “Of course… Captain.”  Kathryn allowed herself the luxury of watching her slink away.

************************************************************************

When the captain arrived on the bridge, only slightly disheveled, Harry was the first to address her.  “Captain, we’ve been tracking this distortion for the last couple of hours, and … we think it’s a cloaked ship.  Maybe more than one.”

Her mouth hardened.  “How close are they?”

“Bearing two two three six mark four.” 

She swore under her breath and tapped her comm badge.  “Janeway to Cargo Bay 1.”

“This is Aanath.  Good morning, Captain.”

“Good morning Aanath, and remind me to thank you later.”  The bridge crew was bewildered by that comment, but Janeway didn’t care to explain.  Her tone was brisk.  “What’s the condition of your vessel?”

“Repairs have been completed but we haven’t run any diagnostics yet.”

“But it’s in one piece?”

“Yes.”

“Run them quickly.  I think we’ve got company.  We’re going to take you into orbit around P’al Parak as soon as you’re ready.”  She gesticulated into the air as she took her seat.  “Go to yellow alert.”

************************************************************************

The doors in Astrometrics slid open.  Seven was staring at some calculations by Crewman Jorr.  Her concentration was artificial.  Aanath walked in.

“Aanath.  We are not due to begin final diagnostics on your vessel for another four hours.”

“Seven, there’s no time.  The crew is running them right now.  The captain thinks that the Kol’Nisset may have dispatched a vessel to follow her when she left with the Delta Flyer.  We have to launch.  I can’t endanger this crew by remaining on board.”

Seven gazed at the scientist.  “You have come to… say goodbye.”

Aanath nodded.  “Yes, I have.  I wanted to thank you for everything.”

“It is I who should thank you.”

Aanath grinned.  “Since you’re the second person to say that to me today, I assume your conversation with the captain went well?”

Seven smiled demurely.  “It was … promising.  She has concerns, but … I will convince her.”

Aanath nodded briefly.  “No doubt you will.  I wish you success.”  She looked at the formidable frame for a moment.  “But you don’t need my wishes.  You’re a remarkable woman and you will succeed.”  She gave Seven a quick, chaste hug and brief kiss on the cheek.  “I am glad to have known you.”

************************************************************************

When the Kol’Nisset’s two Sentinels uncloaked themselves, the bridge crew sat stunned for a few moments.  Aanath’s little one-man craft had been beautiful, but these two great vessels were like massive, cold hawks, and looked as if they were made of star light.  Tuvok was the first to speak, dutifully assessing their weapons array.  “The two ships are identical.  Each has a full array of fifty-terravolt energy weapons, as well as ten bays for projectile weapons, all of which are loaded and armed.”

“And here I was, expecting a barbecue,”  Kathryn remarked without a trace of humor. “Red alert. How many life signs?”

“Three hundred on one, three hundred twenty on the other,”  Harry reported over the din of the red alert sirens.

They’d been in worse trouble than this.  There was no way that they could hope to engage these two ships, so she had to stall them long enough for Aanath to be able launch her ship.

“They’re hailing,”  Harry announced.

“On screen.”

The screen blinked, and for the first time, she had a view of the inside of a P’al Parak vessel, which shone back with soft light, the concentric arches reflecting and refracting everything within it, like the heart of a prism.  The individual addressing her was reclined, regarding her coolly from his command chair.  “Alien vessel, you are holding a criminal, a fugitive of the Kol’Nisset.”

Kathryn put up her best poker face.  “With whom am I speaking?”

“A designated representative of the Kol’Nisset.  You may call me Patak.”

B’Elanna, sitting at an aft engineering station, tried her best to maintain composure, but nearly doubled over with laughter.

“Your crewman seems amused, Janeway.”  There was a chilly warning to his tone.

“Your name sounds very similar to a word in her native language.  How do you know my name… Patak?”

B’Elanna bit her lip hard at the sound of the Captain repeatedly insulting the captain of the imposing vessel.

“We are aware of your communication with our government.  We have been monitoring your activities since you left our space. We know the composition of your ship and that you would have no personal use for elarium.  We know that you are holding the criminal, Aanath Chothraka, and while we do not know what it is she has told you, we advise you that this is a government matter in which you have no place.  The Kol’Nisset does not hold you personally responsible for whatever lies this criminal has told you, but you may consider this a … friendly warning.  Release her into our custody and we will not destroy your ship.”

“Well, Patak,”  Janeway enunciated, “I am prepared to hear directly from you what her crimes are, but she has asked me for asylum and based on what she’s told me, I’m prepared to give it.”

“Then we will destroy your ship.”

“Is this what passes for diplomacy among your people?”  Janeway demanded, deliberately goading him.

Success.  He was bristling.  “I have no quarrel with you, Captain Janeway, but the criminal must be subdued, and you will not stand in the way of that.  If she cannot be returned to our government for handling, we must kill her here, and so be it.  My orders are simple and clear.”

“Good for you,”  Janeway answered tartly.  “You want a fight?  You can take this ship on, and you might even win, but so help me I’ll take your left eye out with me when I go down.  Your sensors can see these weapons systems, you know I can do it and believe me I will,”  she growled.

The crew watched her, growing more tense, knowing she was stalling for time but all feeling that this was a strange way of doing it.

Patak knew it was true, could tell that this woman was a spirited fighter when thrown into battle.  Losses were acceptable in combat, but also better avoided if possible.  “But you will still be destroyed.”

“Just tell me your version of it.  If she’s truly a criminal, then I’ll turn her over to you and no-one has to die today.”

Patak relented.  “She has been illegally researching classified government information and poisoning the minds of the young.  Placed in a position of power over them, she was abusing that power and corrupting their minds.” 

Kathryn nodded, gazing at Patak with chin in hand, looking as though she were mulling his words over.  “Sounds terrible,”  she remarked after a moment, overly sincere.

“It is a truly offensive behavior, and extremely dangerous,”  Patak concurred, not sensing any sarcasm from her.  “Surely Captain, you would not want such a wanton, terrible influence among your own people.  She is a security risk, and dangerous to society.  You must return her for punishment at once.” 

Janeway nodded thoughtfully.  “I see, I see.”  Paced back and forth a few times.  Finally, she saw what she was waiting for; the blinking yellow light on the helm ... the silent alert from the Cargo Bay that Aanath was ready to launch.  “Well since you put it that way… go to Hell.”  She motioned to cut the commlink and commanded, “Tom, you know where we’re going, Warp 6, engage!”

The ship came about and Voyager jumped to warp. 

“They’re pursuing, but not at warp,”  Harry announced.  “They won’t reach us for a few days.”

“Aanath was good enough to mention that they don’t have Warp drive,”  Janeway responded.  She tapped her commbadge, “Janeway to Cargo Bay 1.”

“We’re ready to go, Captain!”  came Ensign Kazmiri’s voice.

“Good, because you have to.”

Voyager dropped out of Warp and Tom Paris brought her into a low orbit.  “Ready when you are, Aanath,”  Kathryn said into the still open commlink.

“I’m already gone,” Aanath’s voice answered bravely over the bridge’s commlink.  “Thank you for all your help, Captain.”

“I hope you stir the hearts of your people,”  Kathryn said sincerely.

“I hope you make it home to Earth,”  Aanath answered back, just as sincerely.  “Goodbye.”

B’elanna Torres smiled in quiet admiration as the viewer focused on the tiny meta-stream ship shooting out of the airlock in Cargo Bay 1.  “Q’aplah, Aanath.”  she said quietly.  A Klingon invocation for success, bravery.  Somehow the only appropriate sentiment.

Kathryn heard her and nodded in assent. “Q’aplah,”  she agreed.

Tom Paris heard them, shrugged and went along for the ride.  “Sure, Q’aplah.”

Kathryn looked sidelong at him.  “Lay in a course, Mr. Paris, and get us the hell out of here.  And Mr. Kim… launch a Class 5 probe and just... leave it in orbit.”

He was bewildered, but nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

And Voyager continued on its path home.

************************************************************************

Kathryn sat in her quarters, watching on the small viewer the audio/visual telemetry from the probe they’d left in orbit, which was picking up P’al Parak’s public broadcasts.  She saw video of Aanath’s landing in the main forum at the academy, the large crowd that gathered as her ship descended in a blaze of white light, heard most of Aanath’s impassioned speech to those people, telling them the full measure of what the government had tried to do, before the Kol’Nisset discipline squad came and carried her away.  Her action had become newsworthy, and her government would have to contend with the populace and justify themselves for the first time.  Ultimately, Kathryn thought sadly, public opinion might not be enough to save Aanath’s life, but even here in her quarters, light years away, she could feel the shockwaves that would be spread through that culture as a result of the actions of one brave scientist.

The comm burbled.  Kathryn knew who it was.  “Come in.”

Seven entered the room, her hair loose around her shoulders in those golden waves that had torn Kathryn’s heart in half only a day ago.  She looked on in disbelief, still trying to grasp what Seven had done that morning. “Hello, Seven,”  she said, trying to keep some semblance of composure, but her voice broke.

Seven smiled gently, noticing the weakness in her captain’s voice.  “Has it stopped?”

Kathryn frowned.  “Has what stopped?”

“Your heart.”

Kathryn grew red and her cheeks burned for a moment, recalling that little bit of advice.  “Sit down, Seven.”

Seven noted the video playing on Kathryn’s desk unit.  “What are you watching?”

“Telemetry from the probe.  Public broadcasts of P’al Parak.”

“What have you learned?”

“Well,”  Kathryn sighed, “aside from learning that they’re the sole source for elarium in the sector and that apparently someone down there makes outstanding mouthwash, it seems that Aanath got what she wanted.  A large audience.  Far as I can tell, she’s been hauled off, but it seems to have affected a lot of people and I don’t think it will be for nothing.  We’re going to stop receiving telemetry in a few more hours, but I’ve been keeping up with it as long as I can.”

Seven watched the clip that Kathryn had left looping, of the scientist Aanath jumping out of her craft, shouting out to the crowd that had gathered in the forum, her whole self pouring forth an energy and passion that Seven realized she’d clearly been reserving for that moment.  She had seen only the reasonable, gentle, even-tempered side of this remarkable woman, to whom she owed so much.  “She would have had much to offer someone as a mate,”  Seven observed.

“You respected her,”  Kathryn noted, containing a wave of jealousy.

“She was remarkable,”  Seven responded.  Noticing a crushing vulnerability in Kathryn’s eyes as she said this, she added, “But she was not you.”

Kathryn smiled, almost sadly.  “Seven, you’ve never been in love before, how do you know that’s really what you’re feeling for me?”

Seven’s chin thrust out stubbornly.  “How did you know the first time you fell in love?  If you are not interested in mating with me, you may tell me so, but do not trivialize me by suggesting that I do not know what my feelings are.  I may have required assistance in naming them, but they are mine, and they are real.”

Kathryn took Seven’s hand, conscious of the strength and power that was in them.  Noticed how small her own hand seemed curled around it.  She felt a little ashamed that she had even asked the question.  She plowed on.  “It will be difficult for the crew to accept,” she challenged.  “We both may encounter resentment from others.”

“Ensign Kim’s and Commander Chakotay’s ‘sour grapes’ do not concern me.”

Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment, smiling softly.  Chakotay.  She hadn’t even been thinking of him, and of his timid (and quickly crushed) efforts at wooing her.  “Oh, he’ll adjust, it’s not really him I’m worried about.  It’s just that those members of the crew who don’t ... understand you so well might have a hard time with the fact that you will be my partner, and they may make it difficult for you to interact with them.  They’ll accuse you of using your relationship with me as an excuse for... certain things.  They’ll accuse me of favoring you and permitting behaviors I might not otherwise.”

Seven was stubborn.  “Anyone whose feelings toward me are of concern to me will be happy for me.  And we will maintain our current association when we are among the crew.  I am not so foolish as to address you by a private name on the bridge or blow kisses at you during a briefing.”

For a moment, Kathryn imagined standing on the bridge in a combat situation, barking some order at Seven and having her bark back, “Yes, shmoopy!”  And this amused her, briefly.  She sighed, knowing there was no way she could talk her way out of this, but still wanting to be sure that Seven had fully considered the implications of what she was asking for.  “Seven, doesn’t it concern you at all that I am your commanding officer?  That the balance of power in our relationship is unequal, that I might feel I was taking advantage of that in some way?”

Seven covered Kathryn’s hand with her own.  “Kathryn,”  she scolded, “you clearly have confused me with someone who has shown regard for the command structure.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes.  “Which brings me to another thing, Seven, if you pull something like that again, how in the Hell do you expect me to throw my ‘life partner’ in the brig??”

“You will discipline me, I have no doubt,”  Seven responded with a cool tone that almost-- almost -- hid the implied mischief behind it.  Kathryn had learned to read Seven, had learned that her face showed only a fraction of the picture, that there was a whole myriad of colors in her voice that betrayed her every emotion. 

Kathryn let out a short laugh and gazed fondly at Seven for a moment.  “Seven, I’ve loved you  for a long time.  But as hard as it is, I think we need to go slowly with this.  To … change the nature of our association is a large step, and there are a lot of things you’re going to have to learn, and don’t go telling me you’ll adapt, either. Because I know you will, but it will take some time.  You have to be patient - I don’t want you to bite off more than you can chew.”

“I would never bite anything off,”  Seven assured her quickly, missing the colloquialism and simply assuming the captain was concerned that she would be too aggressive during sex.

Kathryn grinned, a full grin that Seven found utterly dazzling.  She wanted to make her captain smile this way all the time.

“Seven, that’s not what I mean,”  she chuckled, and there was something sensuous and naughty in her tone.   “I mean, you need to not take on more than you can handle.  This will be a great risk for both of us, and I want it to work.”  She reached out, running her fingers through Seven’s hair.  “I want us to spend more time together, and talk about these …mutual goals… you mentioned this morning.”

Seven allowed herself to be distracted by the touch of Kathryn’s hand in her hair.  “Does this mean you will choose me?”

Kathryn’s face was warm and at ease.  “Oh, Seven, yes.  Yes, I will.”

“Good.  Then I wish to discuss our goals later,”  Seven declared, standing up.

Kathryn lifted an eyebrow.  “And where exactly are you going?”  And her heart stopped as she saw Seven looking at her with eyes that smoldered, and realized exactly where Seven was going.  Enhanced arms lifted her out of her chair and completely off of her feet.

“Seven!”  she shouted in mock exasperation.  She allowed her head to fall back in an unrestrained laugh.  “What are you doing?”

“If you recall, I had an appointment with a visiting scientist to learn something, which I cancelled because of you.  As I understand things, this makes you now responsible for my lesson.”

“The first of many,”  Kathryn purred into her ear, as she was carried to bed by the woman who, in learning her own humanity, was giving Kathryn Janeway a healthy reminder of her own.

 

The End