Tales From The Government-In-Exile
 

They took away her servants and dismantled her court. She watched in silence as belongings were packed neatly into boxes and names were scored from the list. She saw her power leave her. She nodded and smiled as she graciously accepted mumbled apologies, agreed when they told her that she should take some leave, kept her silence when they talked about stress levels and psychological analyses. What did they know? What did any of them know?

The Queen is dead, long live the civilian.

Of course, they told her that she was free to return, that they still valued her expertise. She remembered these assurances even now, sitting in a house by the beach after an enforced year-long vacation.

"They seem to think I went crazy in the Delta Quadrant. That all that isolation affected my mind." She raised the coffee cup to her lips. "What do you think, Seven?"

"They are incorrect."

Kathryn smiled over the rim of the cup. Seven was a wonderful protegee.

"Your condition deteriorated after our return to the Alpha Quadrant."

Now that was unexpected. Mutiny from the only person she still thought of as hers. She settled the cup back on the table. "I hope you can back that up, Seven. I'm not very friendly to people who question my sanity."

Was that a blush? The skin around the remaing Borg implants turned pinker as the woman spoke; "I had assumed I was to speak frankly. I apologise if I was mistaken in that belief."

"You've said it now, you may as well make your case." Kathryn leaned back in her seat, crossed her legs at the ankles. "I'd be interested to hear your opinion. You've certainly known me long enough to be entitled to speak freely." She curved her lips in a bitter smile. "And I'm not your captain any more, so it can't be insubordination to tell me what's on your mind."

Seven nodded, and her blushes subsided. "I believe that is the cause of your...problems. As captain of Voyager you had clear goals and considerable authority. Completion of the task you had set for yourself has had an adverse effect on your health."

"The bitch is upset because she's lost her control of the pack?"

Seven didn't even blink, "Precisely."

She dismissed the accusation with a wave of her hand. "You're wrong. I feel abandoned, yes, but I don't spend my days fantasising about ordering people around."

"You were a God, now you are merely a subject."

"Theology, Seven? But, of course, you're on, what, your third major religion?"

"I am seeking to improve myself. While many of these systems may appear primitive to you, I find that the required mental discipline is an invaluable aid to self-analysis."

The deposed God nodded. "Well, I suppose if you're used to taking orders, it must be comforting for you to have something to obey."

"You are attempting to undermine my argument by applying amateur psychology to my own activities. It will fail."

"Not that you ever listened to a damn thing I said anyway."

"I listened to you often. That fact that I disagreed with you on a number of occasions is a seperate issue."

"And now you're just playing semantics."

"Cap...Kathryn, I-"

"Freudian slip, Seven?" She smiled - she still owned this one, even if the others had abandoned her.

"I am still...unused to referring to you by your new designation. I am sorry."

Oh, so am I, Seven, so am I... "I always expected that you'd revert back to Anneka when we finally got home."

"That name has no resonance for me."

"And you're used to being 'Seven'."

"As you were used to being 'Captain'."

"I was 'Captain' for seven years, it takes quite a bit to go back to being 'Kathryn'."

"You will succeed."

"Starfleet don't seem to think so. Why else do you think I'm on indefinate leave?"

"You defeated the Borg on a number of occasions. You also managed to maintain morale and solidarity among a crew thousands of light years from their homeworlds. You are..." The blush was back, "Unstoppable."

Kathryn leaned forward, knocking the table as she uncrossed her legs. She ignored the spill from the coffee cup and focussed on the woman in front of her. "Who sold me out, Seven, who told them I was crazy?"

"I will not divulge that information."

"Was it Tuvok? No, he's far too loyal...Chakotay? Tom?"

"I will not-"

"Fine. I'll find out eventually."

"I know."

"Of course you do, you've met me." She glanced down at the table and frowned. "And now I've spilled my coffee." She stood up, "I'll get a cloth."

Seven moved to stand, "I will clean this."

"I'm not an invalid, Seven."

The woman settled back down on the sofa, "My apologies."

"Besides, it's getting late. You should head back. I'm sure someone will miss you." She rememerged from the kitchen with an off-white rag.

"I have no urgent obligation. I wish to stay."

Kathryn knelt to wipe away the spilled liquid. "I'm sure I'm getting clumsier in my old age."

Seven stood and took the cloth from her hand. "I will make more coffee."

And Captain Janeway smiled. She still had her worshipper; she was still a God.