The Play's the Thing

Part 1 

"Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to be captain," Kathryn Janeway thought for the tenth time that evening, and sighed. It was not the first time she had found herself in such a predicament. Dangerous situations weren’t what triggered these feelings; on the contrary, Capt. Janeway thrived on challenge and excitement. No, it was always the most prosaic things – filling out reports, disciplining personnel, and the one she dreaded above all – acting as a diplomat at a trying social function.

She smiled with an effort at the Genn ambassador seated next to her at the long stone table, trying not to be disconcerted over what passed for a smile on their planet – a slightly opened mouth and protruding tip of the tongue – which reminded her of a dog in hot weather. She was grateful once again for her decision not to bring Tom Paris along on this mission – she could just imagine the kind of comment that would have issued from his lips at the sight of the gaping expressions directed their way.

As it was she heard a sound suspiciously like a smothered laugh coming from Lt. Torres, who was seated on her left. Janeway directed a warning glance at her, and B’Elanna quickly raised a cup to her lips, downing her drink to mask her amusement. Unfortunately, the liquid returned just as quickly as it disappeared, as B’Elanna gagged and discharged the drink in a spray from her mouth that covered her nearest neighbors and most of the food in front of her. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, liquid dripping from their faces.

"B’Elanna! Are you okay? What happened?" Janeway asked in dismay.

"I’m sorry, Captain, but that drink…it tastes like a kilo of salt was dissolved in it!" The engineer gasped, eyes watering.

Janeway turned to her hosts, ready to offer an apology for her crew’s unfamiliarity with the local cuisine, and was met by the sight of them convulsed in laughter. It was an odd, snuffling sort of sound, but unmistakably laughter. And it was quite a sight. Though the aliens were humanoid in appearance, they were all at least two meters tall, with smooth gray skin and flattened, indistinct features. They had no eyebrows, but their eyelashes were three times as long as a human’s. Their beady black eyes were closed in merriment, and some were actually slapping the table top as they guffawed, in an uncanny similarity to Starfleet enlisted at the local bar back home.

Capt. Janeway realized immediately what had happened, and she grabbed B’Elanna’s arm to forestall the half-Klingon’s fiery temper from erupting.

"It’s a joke, isn’t it?" Torres asked incredulously.

Janeway nodded.

"That does it! I’m going to—"

"Tuvok, would you help B’Elanna find a more suitable beverage?" the captain interrupted smoothly. "Something to wash the taste out of her mouth?"

"Of course, Captain." Her security officer rose immediately and escorted the fuming woman out of the large dining hall. Janeway sent up a silent thank you for his levelheadedness, and fought down her own rising irritation before turning to the alien next to her.

Its name (she had been unable to determine whether it was male or female) was FerringGol, and as its laughter subsided it looked at Janeway inquiringly.

"Your people don’t have a sense of humor?"

"On the contrary, Ambassador. My crew is exceptionally good natured. But we aren’t used to being the target of pranks such as the Genn seem to enjoy."

"Pranks?" Ambassador FerringGol’s tone was huffy. "The Genn just enjoy a good laugh. And your crewmembers are not targets, Capt. Janeway. You will notice we enjoy laughing at ourselves just as much."

It was true that earlier when one of the Genn’s chairs had collapsed with a loud crash, its friends had roared at the sight of their comrade sprawled on the floor. Even the unfortunate individual whose chair had been sabotaged seemed to find it funny, grasping its sides in a paroxysm of laughter. Janeway and her away team had eventually managed diplomatic smiles at this odd behavior, but as the dinner progressed it had become harder and harder for the captain to suppress her annoyance. It was fortunate that Seven of Nine, with her Borg habit of speaking her mind, was also missing from this away mission. On one of her rare days off, Seven had arranged a "play date" with Voyager’s youngest member, the half-Ktarian Naomi Wildman. The two were safely ensconced in the holodeck, probably running a Flotter program, the gentle character being one of Naomi’s favorites.

‘Right now, I wish I was with them,’ Janeway reflected grimly. She decided the wisest course would be to finish the meal and get her people out of there before someone was injured. And that someone would most likely be a Genn, she concluded, eyeing her returning engineer as B’Elanna reseated herself at the table. The half-Klingon’s expression was impassive, but Janeway could feel the waves of menace that were radiating off the woman like steam rising from a volcano.

Perhaps even their hosts realized they were skating on thin ice, for their manner towards B’Elanna was suddenly placating. Janeway glanced around at the rest of her crew. Tuvok was holding his own, debating philosophy with a couple of Genn further down the table. Neelix was talking animatedly with another Genn regarding trade. It had turned out that the small planet and its inhabitants had really only one resource useful to Voyager, a rich layer of berillium buried deep in its substratum. But as mining the ore proved to be against Genn environmental policy, the trade that resulted was mainly in cultural and historical artifacts.

The last member of the away team, Ensign Harry Kim, was attempting conversation with a rather large individual at the end of the table who held an infant in its arms.

"That’s a beautiful baby," he said admiringly.

"Thank you," the Genn replied, its tongue protruding in a proud smile.

"How old is…er, I’m sorry, I don’t know whether it’s male or female," he apologized.

The Genn’s mouth snapped shut, and it consulted its universal translator, as if uncertain that it heard right. "Why does that matter?" it asked finally.

"Oh, it doesn’t," Harry assured the alien hastily. "I just wanted to use the proper term, that’s all."

"And what would the improper term be?"

"Uh, I mean, that is…" poor Harry was at a loss, aware he had offended unintentionally, and not sure how to recover from it. "I meant…the correct term," he finished lamely.

As the alien continued to stare coldly in response, Tuvok intervened. "What the Ensign means," he said smoothly, "is that he did not want to cause offense by incorrectly identifying your offspring. We have encountered species in which that would have been disrespectful. But if he has inadvertently caused offense by his question, I’m sure he meant no harm."

"Yes, I mean no, I didn’t," Harry agreed eagerly. "Please accept my apologies for my clumsiness."

The Genn ignored him. "The infant is not ‘mine,’" it informed Tuvok disapprovingly. "We Genn do not ‘own’ our offspring."

The Vulcan’s right eyebrow rose, the only sign of his discomfiture. A silence had fallen over that end of the table, and Janeway thought it best to stop the discussion before things got any worse. She turned to the alien next to her.

"Ambassador FerringGol, there’s clearly been a misunderstanding. Would you explain to your people that no offense was meant?" To her dismay, the ambassador looked just as disapproving as its companions.

"Captain, I am hoping a malfunction in our universal translators is responsible for the insulting tone of your people’s questions," the Genn replied stiffly.

Janeway opened her mouth to defend Harry and Tuvok, then thought better of it. There was probably no way to explain without further offending their strange hosts. "I assure you that no insult was meant, Ambassador, and so must agree with you that there is a miscommunication somewhere," she replied, hiding her rising anger behind perfect enunciation.

"I certainly hope so," FerringGol replied with a sigh. "And I hope that the citizens of Voyager will eventually learn to move beyond their antiquated and ignorant beliefs."

Janeway had to bite her tongue to hold back the retort that sprang to mind. Her engineer had no such compunction.

"Now wait just a minute," B’Elanna began angrily.

"Lieutenant," she said warningly.

"But Captain, he’s got some nerve!" her chief engineer protested. "It’s fine for them to play juvenile pranks on us, but then to get all bent out of shape over some harmless semantics—"

"That’s enough, B’Elanna!" Janeway’s tone cut razor-sharp, and the Klingon subsided into a sullen silence. There were murmurings among the Genn at the table as word of the incident spread. In spite of her reprimand, Janeway’s sympathies lay with her chief engineer. Dealing with the Genn had proven to be one of the most frustrating experiences Janeway had encountered since entering the Delta Quadrant. Their concept of humor and sense of cultural superiority had required Voyager’s crew to exercise constant diplomacy and restraint. But this touchiness over an innocent misunderstanding was the last straw.

The captain stood. "Ambassador FerringGol, I hope you will forgive our hasty departure, but the crew and I must return to our ship," she said. B’Elanna, Tuvok, and Harry joined her eagerly. Neelix also rose, looking perturbed at the hostility in the air.

The Genn ambassador rose to its feet, towering over the smaller woman. "Captain Janeway, I find this most regretful, but I think that’s probably wise. There is, however, the matter of a traditional gift. We were planning to present it to you after dinner, but—"

"Thank you, but that won’t be necessary," she assured the alien grimly, before tapping her commbadge. "Chakotay, this is Janeway. Things have been cut short…five to transport back."

"But Captain," the Genn was distressed, "in light of everything I’ve heard tonight, I would say that this gift is vital to Voyager’s growth. Please permit us to present it to you—"

"Mail it to us," was the short reply, before the entire team disappeared in a shimmering haze.

Back on Voyager, Janeway stepped onto the bridge with a sigh of relief. "Remind me to let you lead the next away mission," she told Chakotay sourly.

The handsome Commander looked at her with an expression that was equal parts amusement and concern. "Something go wrong?" he inquired mildly.

"You might say that," was the dry reply. "I’ll fill you in later. Tom?" She turned to her pilot.

"Yes, ma’am?"

"Set us back on course, if you would. Warp speed as soon as we’re clear."

The helmsman punched in his course, but before he could engage the engines there was an interruption from Harry.

"Captain, we’re being hailed, audio only. The Genns are saying something about a gift?" he trailed off, looking at Janeway expectantly.

"Oh, God. All right, transport it aboard, Harry. Anything to get out of here and away from this planet."

Ensign Kim punched in the coordinates and announced a moment later that it was beamed aboard. Tom Paris brought the ship about and they resumed course for the Alpha Quadrant. It was only minutes after achieving warp that the lights suddenly flickered, and an emergency signal blared over the speaker. "Warning," came the dispassionate tones of the computer. "Security breach of main computer. Unauthorized program detected." There was a sudden shift as they dropped out of warp.

Startled, Janeway turned to her security officer. "Tuvok? What’s happening?"

The Lt. Commander wore an expression of concentration as he examined his console. "It appears as though the last transport brought on board an unexpected passenger," he announced. "A ‘virus’ of some sort."

The crew stared at him.

"But is that possible? Through a transport beam?" Harry asked incredulously.

Tuvok’s brow’s rose. "It would appear to be the case," was the composed reply.

"Well, get rid of it, whatever it takes," Chakotay ordered, moving to oversee the Security officer’s console.

"I am attempting to do just that, Commander," the Vulcan assured him.

The Captain rapped her commbadge. "Bridge to Engineering. B’Elanna, are you there?"

"Right here, Captain."

"We’re having a bit of trouble with the main computer. Put up whatever security blocks are necessary to isolate your area, is that clear? They may be after the ship’s power source."

"Aye, Captain."

"Ensign Kim."

"Ma’am?"

"Get the Genn on the line. Find out what the hell kind of game they’re playing now!" Janeway’s voice was quietly furious, and Harry hurried to obey.

Janeway stood suddenly. "You have the Bridge, Chakotay. Have a security team meet me in the transporter room."

"Aye, Kathryn. But what are you going to do?"

The look she gave him before the doors slid closed was sardonic.

"I’m going to open my present, of course."

~~~~~~~

The box lay on the transporter dais, about half a meter long and 20 centimeters high. It was made of some type of hardwood, intricately carved and highly polished. Ensign Lang, on duty in the transporter room, had obeyed orders and not touched the object since its arrival. Janeway entered flanked by Lieutenants Ayala and Baxter. At a look from the captain, Lang gave her report.

"I instituted the containment field as you instructed, Captain. But a scan of the box showed it to be empty except for some kind of document."

"A document?"

"Yes, ma’am. On some kind of paper, I think."

"Hmm." Janeway looked thoughtful. At her sign, Lang deactivated the field, and Baxter stepped forward. He ran his tricorder over the box and nodded.

"I can confirm that, Captain. A thin sheet of some sort of fibrous material. Appears pretty inert."

"In that case, go ahead and open it, Lieutenant." She lifted her phaser and Ayala also braced himself, his rifle pointed at the box. Lt. Baxter carefully worked the latch and finally swung open the lid.

It was exactly as they had reported – the box was empty except for a scroll of paper. Donning protective gloves, Baxter carefully lifted the scroll out of the box, then unrolled it for the captain to see. The message was simple and handwritten in English.

Janeway swore in irritation. "Lt. Baxter, take those down to the Science lab. I don’t think there’s anything else there, but let’s make sure." She tapped her commbadge. "Harry, have you gotten ahold of the Genn yet?"

"They aren’t answering our hails, Captain."

"Well then, I guess we’d better have a face-to-face conversation," she said grimly. She holstered her phaser and left the transporter room. "Mr. Paris, take us back to the planet."

"Captain, I would advise caution in this instance," came her security officer’s voice over the commbadge.

"Tuvok?"

"It appears that warp speed was the virus’s trigger in the first place. I would hesitate to attain warp again until we have a better idea of what we are dealing with."

Janeway frowned. "Point taken. Okay, Tom, set us on course for the planet, impulse only. But in the meantime, I want every available person working on that virus!"

"Captain," Tuvok’s voice came again as she entered the turbolift. "I have isolated the virus’s whereabouts. It seems to be affecting one portion of the ship only…"

The hesitation in the normally imperturbable Vulcan’s voice gave Janeway a sudden sinking feeling. "Where, Tuvok?" she asked sharply.

"In Holodeck Two, Captain…the one presently occupied by Seven of Nine and Naomi Wildman."

~~~~~~~

"Seven! Seven! Where are you going?" Naomi’s voice carried over the swamp as she watched her friend disappear behind a tree. She hurried to catch up with her. "What are you looking at?"

"This structure was not here earlier," the tall Borg replied distractedly as she ran her tricorder over its trunk. "But it does seem to be composed of the same light molecules as the rest of the flora in this simulation." She stood suddenly and scanned the area. "Naomi Wildman -- have you noticed a change in the environmental conditions since we entered the holodeck?"

Naomi glanced around her. The Forest of Forever did seem a bit…brighter than it was normally. And Flotter and Trevis were nowhere to be found. "Maybe someone changed the program," she suggested.

"That would appear to be the case," Seven agreed. "The question is, ‘why?’"

The girl shrugged. "Maybe they were bored. Seven, it’s almost lunchtime…aren’t you getting hungry?"

The blond woman’s brow rose. "I do not require nutrition at this time. However," she added, noticing how her companion’s shoulders drooped, "perhaps it would be a good idea to consume the food we brought on our…‘picnic.’"

"Oh good!" Naomi jumped up and headed back toward the clearing where they had spread out a blanket. The Borg followed her, her face relaxing into something very close to a smile.

As they came upon the clearing, however, the little girl froze. There was someone, or rather something, already there…and it was raiding their picnic basket.

"Good afternoon," it said, lifting its head at their approach. "I hope you don’t mind sharing…there seemed to be so much food here, and I was so hungry."

Naomi noticed something unusual about their guest right away. For one thing, although she could hear its voice as clear as day -- a very pleasant, melodic baritone which seemed to echo slightly in her mind -- its lips never moved. The other strange thing was…

"You’re a horse," she whispered, marveling at the sight. She had studied earth horses in detail, but nothing about their habits ever mentioned they could speak, or that they liked to eat from picnic baskets.

Seven’s brow rose. "It does appear to have equine features," she noted. "But I am not certain about the structure on its forehead…."

The beast bowed regally. A stallion with a powerful neck and a coat of unblemished white, and a long, silky silver mane and tail. Even its hooves were shiny white. Its eyes, however, were of the deepest blue, and regarded them with amusement.

"My children, I am so happy to see you. My name is Tidus. And you are?"

"I’m Naomi Wildman, captain’s assistant in training."

"I’m Seven of Nine, I’m…I’m…in charge of Astrometrics."

Hearing Seven’s stutter, Naomi glanced quickly at her friend. Seven was staring at the beast in wide-eyed wonder, her head tilted slightly as if she were listening to an internal voice.

"Hello, Naomi Wildman, Seven of Nine. Why don’t you come sit down? It is very generous of you to share your picnic with me."

Naomi hesitated, unsure about getting so close to the animal. But Seven walked forward without fear, stopping only when she was inches away.

"Who are you? How did you get here?"

Though it was Seven of Nine’s question, Naomi had to look twice to be certain of who was speaking. It wasn’t said in the Borg’s usual abrupt manner, nor in her usual alto tones. The voice was pitched much higher, and the expression on her face was delighted, rather than the slightly imperious one Naomi was accustomed to.

"I am but a visitor to your beautiful world, and want only to interact with its inhabitants. And perhaps sample its food." The creature’s eyes twinkled as it added that last bit, and Naomi was astonished to hear her companion giggle.

"Can I touch you?" Seven asked. Tidus inclined his head graciously.

"Seven, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…" Naomi began uneasily, but Seven was already reaching out her hand.

"Oooo, your fur is so soft! Feel him, Naomi!"

Reluctantly, Naomi followed suit, and was startled by the warmth and velvet texture of the creature’s coat. "Wow, you are soft!" she marveled.

"Perhaps, after our picnic, you two could come riding with me," Tidus suggested. "I can take you anywhere you want to go."

Seven turned to Naomi excitedly. "That’s a great idea! Want to?"

Naomi frowned. "Seven, you’re not acting like yourself."

"Maybe she’s finally learning how to play?" came Tidus’s gentle voice, and Seven nodded.

"You always say I never play with you! So let’s play. Okay, Naomi?" the Borg’s voice turned wheedling.

Naomi stared doubtfully at her friend, at the familiar features she had grown to care for and trust. But there was also a smile on Seven’s face, something Naomi had never seen before. She smiled in return, feeling suddenly very happy herself.

"Okay," she agreed. "But lunch first. I’m starving!"

~~~~~~~

"I have half a mind to shut the damn thing down!" Janeway growled.

Chakotay sent her a sympathetic look. "Well, that’s still an option, Captain. But since the virus is preventing us from stopping the program or entering the holodeck, it would mean cutting off all functions, including life support. And since we don’t know yet how we’re going to get them out of there, that should probably be the last resort."

Janeway acknowledged the advice with a frown and turned to the rest of the officers gathered around the conference table. "So have we made any progress at all?

"Harry’s been feeding me the sub-procedures as they run, and we’ve been examining them strand by strand," B’Elanna reported. "It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. There’s something in there besides normal code….something…primitive."

Janeway looked up sharply. "What do you mean, B’Elanna?"

The engineer shook her head. "I’m not sure yet. It’s just a gut feeling."

Tuvok lifted an eyebrow. "Its mode of infection and inaccessibility would suggest something rather sophisticated," he pointed out.

"Yes, it is. It’s incredibly sophisticated…and yet…" she shook her head again in frustration.

"Well, Tuvok reports that several items have been requested from the replicator, including food, clothing, several toys, and a saddle," Chakotay put in. "Also, interestingly enough, a site to site transport of the blanket that was on Naomi’s bed."

"A saddle, Chakotay? Toys? And the blanket off of Naomi’s bed?" Janeway asked incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Unless that’s malfunctioning too, and giving false readings," he replied. "There were," he consulted his PADD, "a jump rope, a game of kadis-kot, a Drayan exercise ball, a couple of Klingon yanwl’ swords –"

"What the hell are they doing?" Janeway broke in, baffled. "Do you think it’s part of Seven’s plan to get them out of there?"

"It is impossible to speculate," Tuvok replied. "The most important knowledge gained is that objects can be transported in to the holodeck."

The captain looked at him.

"But we have no way of knowing whether they can be transported out," he emphasized, obviously knowing just where her thoughts were leading.

Her first officer knew it too. "Kathryn," he began warningly.

"I’ve no choice, Chakotay. Ensign Wildman is ready to take down the holodeck doors with a spanner, and I can’t really blame her. If my child were in there I’d feel the same way."

"It would be prudent to have someone accompany you, Captain," Tuvok said. "Such as a member of security."

She smiled at the Lt. Commander. "I want you on the bridge in case the Genn try to pull any more stunts, Tuvok. In fact, I’m not going to risk anyone else’s safety when we have no idea what we’re up against. But I’ll be fine, don’t worry."

"I don’t like it. There’s gotta be another way," B’Elanna said.

Janeway turned to Lt. Paris. "Tom, how long before we reach the Genn planet?"

"At impulse speed?" he scoffed. "We’re talking another two weeks at least!"

"Well, that settles it. We’ll set up emergency signals using the replicators, just in case communication is limited." Janeway stood and paced back and forth behind the table. "Let’s give Seven another hour to put whatever plan she’s working on into action. Then I’m going in. Dismissed."

~~~~~~~

Alone in her ready room, Janeway sat at her desk and fought back a rising sense of panic. As fearless as she was in the face of personal danger, it always struck deep when a member of her crew was involved. And these weren’t just any crewmembers. Janeway treasured her relationship with Naomi, the first child born on Voyager. The youngster took her role as Janeway’s "Captain’s Assistant" very seriously, and the older woman felt real affection for her.

Then there was Seven of Nine. Ever since she had rescued her from the Borg six years ago, Janeway had felt a sense of responsibility for the young woman. For her safety, for her personal development…for her happiness.

It was difficult to say when her concern for the former drone’s welfare had turned into love. Perhaps it was sparked in those early days, when Seven had fought being assimilated into Voyager’s crew as much as the young Annika had fought assimilation by her Borg captors. Her defiance of Janeway’s authority, while infuriating, held a certain novelty for the captain, who had rarely had a subordinate question her so relentlessly. Or perhaps the change had come later, as Seven had struggled to learn the ways of her new family and deal with the unfamiliar social interactions required of her. Janeway had discovered that behind the formidable intelligence and aloof exterior lay a young woman of complex emotions and a tremendous capacity for caring.

In any event, Janeway’s deepest feelings had remained hidden behind her habitual personal reserve and the requirements of her office. And if anyone noticed that the captain paid special attention to the progress and well-being of her Astrometrics officer, well, that’s what a mentor was for, after all.

So the waiting and uncertainty were especially agonizing for Janeway. She vowed that if anything happened to either of them, she’d personally make sure the Genn would never have the opportunity to harm another living being. She admitted to herself what she would never have told anyone else: those two were favorites of hers. The chronometer beeped and Janeway took a deep breath. It was time.

~~~~~~~

Back in the holodeck, laughter could be heard ringing out over the treetops. It was most unusual, for Naomi rarely laughed, and Seven never did. But as they sat astride the big white stallion, shrieking in joy at the speed of his gallop over the meadow, neither one of them would have been recognized by their crewmates.

Finally, Tidus stopped on the crest of a hill and shook out his wind-blown mane. "This is a beautiful place," came his resonant voice, as he looked over the valley below. "I could stay here forever."

"Seven, it’s my turn to be in front," Naomi declared from her position behind her companion. "You’ve been driving all this time!"

"All right," Seven heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. "But it’s not called ‘driving.’" She twisted around, and with her Borg-enhanced strength, was easily able to lift Naomi in front of her. "Let’s go back and play Talaxian tag again," Seven suggested.

"Okay!" Naomi agreed. "Let’s go, Tidus!"

The beast cantered gracefully back to the site of their picnic, but he stopped abruptly a few meters away, and snorted in alarm.

"Captain! It’s Captain Janeway!" Naomi called joyfully. She dismounted hastily and ran up to the uniformed figure, who had been examining the area and was straightening up with a frown on her face.

"Naomi, Seven, are you all right?" She approached them carefully, a hand on her phaser.

"We’re fine! Have you come to play with us?"

"Play with you?" Janeway was incredulous. "Do you know how worried everyone is? We had no idea what was going on!" She held out her hand to show what she had picked up. "You took off your commbadges! Why?"

Naomi bit her lip, but before she could answer Seven slid off Tidus and came up behind her. "They don’t work anyway. And they were getting in the way when we were playing Enaran symphony."

"They were getting in the way when you were playing Enaran symphony?" The captain repeated, staring at the tall blond Borg, who wore an expression Janeway had never seen before. "Seven? Are you all right?"

"I’m fine. But we were having fun. And now you’re yelling at us." Her mouth was set in a way that, on anyone else, Janeway would’ve described as a pout.

"I’m not yelling," replied the captain, nonplussed.

"Yes you are," Seven insisted.

Janeway bit back a retort and turned to the child watching them. "Naomi?"

"You were talking a bit loud, Captain."

Janeway took a deep breath and spoke with care. "All right. I’m sorry for yelling. I’d like you to put your commbadges back on, please." She watched as they did so without protest. Seven wandered over to the picnic site and Janeway turned to the girl next to her. "Naomi, do you know what’s wrong with Seven?"

"She’s not a grown-up anymore, Captain." Even the young Ktarian didn’t sound quite like herself, and Janeway looked at her closely.

"What do you mean, ‘she’s not a grown-up’?"

"She’s acting like a kid," Naomi said simply. "She’s playing with me and laughing and having fun. She hasn’t acted like that since that time she got sick."

"Yes, you’re right," Janeway agreed, watching the woman in question, who was surreptitiously listening in on the conversation. Janeway shuddered at the memory of the virus that had caused Seven to exhibit the personalities of the individuals that she had assimilated. Could it be happening again? "And who replicated the unicorn?" Janeway asked. "Was it you?"

"What’s a unicorn?" Naomi frowned.

"A mythical beast of Earth legend from ancient times." Seven answered, obviously accessing her database and sounding a bit more like herself. But she immediately reverted back, shaking her head as if trying to clear an unpleasant sensation. "Tidus is a unicorn!"

"Tidus?" Janeway’s eyes narrowed.

"That’s his name," Naomi explained.

"How do you know that?"

"He told us," said Seven.

"He told you?"

"Yes, Captain," Naomi confirmed. "Can’t you hear him?"

Janeway glanced over at the white-maned animal, whose blue eyes held a disturbing sentience. "No," she said slowly. "Is he speaking now?"

"Yes." Seven turned to the unicorn. "Yes, that’s her. She’s our captain."

"What’s he saying?" Janeway asked sharply.

"He’s asking if you’re Kathryn Janeway. He says he’s supposed to be a gift to you."

"A gift? Damn those Genn!" She pulled out her phaser and aimed it at the animal. He responded with a reproachful look.

"No, don’t hurt him!" Seven cried.

"Naomi, Seven, get away from that thing," Janeway instructed. Naomi moved to the side, hand over her mouth in distress, but Seven held her ground and looked at Janeway defiantly.

"I don’t want you to shoot him," she said.

"This is a dangerous program, Seven. The Genn have infected our main computer and we can’t go to warp. We’ll be stranded unless we can disable that thing." Janeway motioned to the Borg. "Get over here, now."

Seven’s response was to shake her head in answer to a silent call. She faced the unicorn again. "But she’s going to shoot you!" She listened a moment, then turned around to address Janeway. "He says you can’t hurt him with that."

"I don’t want to hurt anyone, Seven. I just want my ship back. Please get away from that thing and come here."

Seven eyed her distrustfully, and Janeway felt a twinge of hurt. It had been a long time since she had seen that look. She reminded herself that Seven was obviously not her usual self. "Seven, come over here, please." Her voice was calm, but authoritative.

Seven continued to hesitate, glancing from the captain to Tidus and back again.

"Seven," Janeway’s tone grew firmer, "I am your captain and you’re supposed to obey my orders. If you don’t listen to me….I shall…be very angry." Even as she said the words, Janeway felt a bit foolish. The blond Borg of old would’ve merely raised a brow and made some dispassionate comment about poor emotional control. But this Seven looked disturbed at the thought of Janeway’s anger.

"You’ll be mad at me?"

"I shall be very disappointed in you," Janeway agreed.

"Oh, all right." Dragging her heels, Seven made her way over to the captain.

Setting her phaser to stun, Janeway immediately fired at the animal. There was a split-second flicker, but otherwise the hologram continued to regard her, unharmed. Naomi and Seven gave audible sighs of relief and Janeway hid her frustration.

"He says you should put the weapon away and join us in play, Captain," Naomi ventured hesitantly.

"Oh, he does, does he? And will he go away if I do that?"

"I don’t want him to go away," Seven announced clearly. Janeway ignored her.

"He says he won’t bother us while we’re playing, if you don’t want him to," Naomi answered.

"I’d like him to help us get back to the Genn planet," Janeway said.

Naomi looked over at Tidus, who responded with a shake of his head. "He says he doesn’t know anything about that," she reported. "He’s just here to have fun."

"A likely story," Janeway muttered to herself, then realized she had two crewmembers watching her expectantly. Well, if you can’t beat ‘em…she thought with a sigh. Maybe playing along was the safest thing to do while she worked on figuring out a solution. "Okay, who’s up for kadis-kot ?"

~~~~~~~

"Commander?"

"Report, Harry."

"Looks like she’s found them, sir. At least, their commbadges and biosigns appear to be in the same location."

"Well, that’s something, I guess." Chakotay turned in his chair to look at the young Ops officer. "No luck in communicating with them directly?"

Harry Kim shook his head. "Whatever has hold of our central computer is putting up some kind of block."

"Well, keep working on it." His commbadge chirped. "Yes?"

"This is the Doctor. I’ve been monitoring their bio readings, and have noticed something rather interesting."

"Go on."

"The neural patterns of Seven of Nine and Naomi Wildman are undergoing a distinct change. They—"

"Hold on, Doctor," Chakotay interrupted, aware of the concerned looks being exchanged by the bridge personnel. "I’ll be right there. Tuvok, you have the bridge."

Down in sickbay, Chakotay stared at the screens before him. "So what you’re saying, Doctor, is that Seven and Naomi are growing younger?"

"Their neural-cortical scans would suggest individuals much less developed," the doctor confirmed. "I cannot say if it will continue, but there hasn’t been any change for the last 6 hours." He indicated the graph before him. "These are the scans based on analysis of oxygen level imaging and magnetic resonance. The results are consistent with those seen in children, rather than adults."

"Human children, you mean."

"That’s correct. But both crewmembers are part human, Commander."

"I’m aware of that, Doctor." Chakotay glanced at him. "So what kind of danger are we talking about here?"

The EMH shook his head. "It’s impossible to say without a full monitoring of their current behavior. From what I can see, they don’t seem unduly stressed in any way. In fact, it appears that in Seven’s case at least, there may be a slight benefit."

"What do you mean?"

"The normal cell degradation is occurring much more slowly….her usual requirement for regeneration may be unnecessary."

"Interesting. And fortunate, since her alcove is out here, while she’s stuck in there." Chakotay rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "And the Captain?"

"As far as I can tell, she is thus far unaffected. Although her cortisol levels do show her to be under some stress, as would be expected."

Chakotay sighed. "Keep monitoring them, Doctor. Let me know the moment anything changes."

~~~~~~~

Two hours later, Janeway was no closer to figuring out a solution for escape, but her patience was rapidly running out. Looking after Naomi and Seven in their regressed mental states had proven unexpectedly challenging. Janeway knew her lack of experience with children put her at a disadvantage, but she was pretty sure that even a child psychologist would’ve been hard pressed to handle them. Naomi had always been both bright and mature for her age, and Seven’s advanced intellect and Borg knowledge was downright dangerous when combined with a 6-year-old’s emotions. The fact that she had an internal database accumulated from hundreds of species didn’t stop her from asking dozens of questions either.

"Captain, will we ever make it back to the Alpha Quadrant?"

"Of course we will." Janeway, intent on reprogramming her commbadge, replied distractedly.

"But what if we don’t?"

"Don’t worry, Seven. We’ll make it back."

"But what if we don’t?"

"If that happens," Janeway replied patiently, "we shall find a nice planet and settle down there."

"Then we’ll die there." Seven regarded the captain solemnly.

Janeway looked up. "Seven, everyone dies sometime," she began gently.

"I know that," was the scornful response. "And what’s going to happen to our memories?"

"We will always be remembered," Janeway assured her, before tapping the communicator impatiently. "Chakotay? B’Elanna? Anyone there?"

"I don’t think they can hear you, Captain," Naomi put in helpfully. "And it’s your turn." She pointed to the kadis-kot board.

"That’s not what I meant," Seven said with exaggerated patience. "What happens to what we remember?"

"We will take our memories with us, Seven.…Red, grid 11-two," Janeway said, her inattention causing both an unwise move and an unwise answer.

"Kadis-kot, I win!" Naomi said with delight. "That’s three games."

"Where do we take them, Captain?" Seven asked. "Where do we go when we die?"

There was a sudden silence. Janeway regarded her two companions blankly. "Where do we go when we die?" she echoed.

"Neelix says we go to the Great Forest," Naomi said.

"Well, that is the Talaxian belief," Janeway agreed, feeling her way carefully. "So I’m sure that is where he’ll go, Naomi."

"So everybody goes to a different place?" Seven persisted.

"But I’m half Human and half Ktarian," Naomi said. "Where will I go?"

"I don’t want to go where the Borg are," Seven said darkly.

"I want to go where you and Seven are going!" Naomi looked close to tears.

"No one’s going anywhere!" Janeway said in exasperation. She caught herself and lowered her voice. "None of us are going to die for a long, long time."

"How do you know that?" Seven asked.

"Because I’m the captain and I say so," Janeway replied, mentally wincing as she heard herself. She sent a silent apology to her mother as that bit of Traditionalist upbringing emerged unexpectedly. Frustrated, she reattached the commbadge she was fiddling with and glared at the cause of their predicament – Tidus standing on a hill some kilometers away, silhouetted against the sky. As if divining her thoughts, the unicorn reared and shook his mane defiantly.

"Wow, look at that." Naomi pointed beyond him, at the sun that was beginning to set.

"It’s beautiful," the captain agreed, forgetting their troubles for a moment at the sight of pink and lavender clouds, outlined in glowing gold as the fiery ball descended beyond the horizon. It seemed like a long time since she had watched a sunset.

"I’m hungry," Seven said forlornly.

"You are?" Janeway looked at her in surprise. The former Borg rarely displayed an appetite, her nanoprobes making her less prone to the bodily necessities the rest of the crew was subject to. "Well, why don’t we go sit down and eat dinner? It’s about that time anyway." Naomi and Seven followed her willingly as she programmed a picnic table for them and then replicated some soup and sandwiches. There was a brief discussion over the palatability of the tuna sandwiches Janeway had prepared, and again she found herself swept back to her childhood in Indiana. "This is payback for those times Phoebe and I refused to eat our vegetables, isn’t it?" she murmured, and imagined she could hear Gretchen Janeway’s laughter.

Fortunately, she had not slaved over a hot stove to prepare the meal, and changing the menu was no hardship. Peanut butter and jelly was always an easy favorite, and soon Naomi and Seven had finished their meals. With the sun going down, Janeway decided it was time to be settling in, but persuading Seven and Naomi to abandon their playing wasn’t easy. She managed to distract them with the promise of a story.

"You’re going to tell us a story, Captain?"

Janeway’s eyebrows rose at the doubtful note in Naomi’s voice. "I am. Do you have some objection to that?"

"No-o. It’s just that…well, do you know any?"

"Of course I do," Janeway said firmly, frantically trying to think of one.

"A real story, not like those kind you tell Commander Chakotay," put in Seven.

Janeway frowned. "The kind I tell Chakotay? What do you mean?"

"About when you were at Starfleet Academy. How Cadet Cressman was expelled for taking his girlfriend up in a shuttlecraft just so he could say he joined the 300 Kilometer Club. And how when Admiral Idrun found out, she—"

"That’s enough, Seven," Janeway interrupted hastily. She vaguely remembered laughing over the escapade while sharing a drink with Chakotay one night in Sandrines. Seven had been there at the time, but had failed to see anything amusing in the story. Clearly this Seven retained that memory, however inappropriate it was in her present state. "I’m going to tell you the story of how Flotter finds his family."

"Ooo, goodie!" Naomi exclaimed, while Seven settled down with a satisfied look on her face. The captain spun out the tale of the holodeck character, and eventually they both drifted off to sleep. Janeway had been worrying about Seven’s need to regenerate as the hours passed – she was clearly exhausted, and the captain prayed that a good night’s rest would help. Then she glanced down at her Borg charge, and a small involuntary "oh" left her lips, her heart twisting at the sight. Most people had an air of innocence while sleeping, but the change in Seven was astounding. It went beyond the simple relaxation of features that came over her in her alcove. Janeway sometimes wondered what Seven would say if she knew of her captain’s penchant for watching her regenerate. She didn’t do it very often, recognizing it for the invasion of privacy that it was. But occasionally, while making the rounds she performed to keep her finger on the pulse of the ship, Janeway would find her steps leading her to Cargo Bay 2. She told herself it was simply to check up on Seven, as she would do for any crewmember, but she knew it was a weak excuse. There wasn’t another crewmember aboard Voyager whom she observed while they were sleeping.

It was a bittersweet pleasure to be able to gaze unabashedly at her in a way she couldn’t do while Seven was conscious, lingering over every feature without having to guard her expression from those penetrating blue eyes. Eventually, vague feelings of guilt, dissatisfaction, and an indescribable yearning would drive her back to her rounds. Those same feelings assailed her as she sat next to this "younger" Seven, but this time there was no reason for her to leave, no reason why she couldn’t look to her heart’s content.

She marveled at how soft those full lips were when relaxed, and how her long lashes hid that piercing azure gaze from view. Seven wasn’t actually sucking her thumb, but her fist lay against her cheek in a near imitation of it, and she slept curled in fetal position, demonstrating a vulnerability Janeway had never seen before. A welling of love rose up inside her – maternal, protective, and desiring – all at once. The overpowering unexpectedness of it left her shaken.

"Damn, Katie, you’ve got it bad," she whispered to herself. She shook her head, turning to tuck the blanket in around Naomi, and lay down between them. She needed her rest, for tomorrow she was determined to confront Tidus and get some answers.

The day dawned bright and warm. Janeway stifled a groan as she rolled over and attempted to rise. Although her sleeping pad had seemed comfortable enough, sleeping on the ground at her age was obviously not a good idea. The stiffness in her muscles made itself known with every movement, and she vowed to replicate a regular bed for herself if they were going to be stuck here for many more nights.

Naomi and Seven were nowhere to be found. Kathryn took the time to perform her morning ablutions before going to look for them. They proved easy enough to locate – Janeway had only to follow the sound of raised voices.

"You cheated!"

"I did not! You are just…just…insufficient!"

"I’m not! And you don’t even know what that means, anyway!"

"Yes, I do! It means you’re stupid!"

"No, I’m not! You’re stupid!"

"No, you’re stupid!"

"No, you’re—"

"Okay, that’s enough!" Janeway stepped into the clearing to find Naomi and Seven facing each other, fingers pointed accusingly. Toys of various types lay strewn about on the ground. Her sudden entrance surprised them into silence, but not for long.

"Captain, tell Seven to stop cheating!"

"I am not cheating! It’s not my fault Naomi’s insufficient!"

Janeway held up her hand. "There will be no name calling, Seven." She eyed the blond woman sternly, ignoring the ferocious pout that resulted. "Now, someone want to tell me what’s going on?" Both of them started up again, loudly, and Janeway raised her hand once more. "Hold on, hold on, I can’t understand if you’re both shouting at once. You," she pointed to Naomi, "explain first."

"We were playing hide-and-seek," Naomi began. "It’s a game Lt. Paris taught me. First someone has to count—"

"I know how it’s played," the captain interrupted her. "And then what happened?"

"Well, I was hiding, and Seven used her Borg eye to find me!"

Janeway sat down on a nearby log. "Is that true, Seven? Did you use your ocular implant to search for her?"

"Of course! It’s the fastest way to find somebody."

"Yes, but it gives you an unfair advantage, doesn’t it? Since Naomi can’t do the same."

"That’s not my fault," Seven said, frowning.

"No, it’s not anyone’s ‘fault,’" Janeway assured her gently. "But since you want to play together, you should try to keep the games as fair as possible. Why don’t we agree that you won’t use your Borg-enhanced vision or hearing while you’re playing hide-and-seek?" Janeway was rather impressed with her negotiating skills, but they failed to impress the squabbling playmates.

"See? I told you!" Naomi couldn’t resist sticking out her tongue in victory.

Seven’s face darkened in growing anger. "You’re always taking her side! I hate you!" She pulled out a phaser from the holster Janeway noticed only then that she was wearing, and pointed it at the captain.

Janeway felt her blood freeze. She had forgotten that the Borg’s transformed state meant that her usual powers of reasoning and control were lacking. "Seven, no—" As she saw Seven’s thumb squeeze down, the captain had time to do no more than gasp in horror before the streaming pulse from the weapon hit her in the abdomen.

~~~~~~~

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