Voyager-B
Part I

"Coffee, black," I ordered.

No sooner did I have the steaming mug in my hands than I heard the doors to my temporary quarters open. Only one person could do that and it was only a matter of seconds before I sensed the familiar presence. I had been caught red-handed indulging in my favorite drink.

"It would not be prudent to drink coffee so late in the evening, Kathryn."

"I can't sleep. Too nervous," I said, trying to justify my actions.

"And coffee will not help. Unless it has been decaffeinated."

"Perish the thought," I said, turning around. I smiled, hoping I could persuade my nemesis to let me win this battle just once. "If you take away my coffee, I'll just get cranky," I argued.

"And you will be cranky when you do not sleep tonight." A silvery mesh-covered hand waited for the cup.

"Not even a sip?" I tried again.

Seven was firm. I didn't stand a chance. Resistance was indeed futile, as she frequently reminded me. I reluctantly handed her the mug and she disposed of the contents.

"Perhaps I should make you a cup of warm milk or 'Sleepytime Herbal Tea'."

"Some what?"

"A late twentieth century Earth beverage that was purported to help one sleep."

I couldn't hide my disdain for that suggestion and when I made a face, I was rewarded with one of Seven's rare, yet oh-so-beautiful smiles. It more than made up for losing my mug of coffee.

"I can think of several ways to help you sleep tonight," she said, her smile changing to one with a hint of seduction.

"Oh, really?" I replied, hearing the challenging tone in my own voice.

"All of them quite relaxing," she continued.

"And what might they be?"

"Would you rather I told you or would you rather I showed you?" she said, approaching me.

"I think a little demonstration would be in order," I said, my voice stronger than I felt.

It was only a matter of a few steps before I was swept up into Seven's arms. She kissed me, deeply and passionately, her tongue invading my mouth. From the very first time we'd kissed more than two years ago, I'd always harbored a deep feeling that kissing was what Seven did best, what she was born to do. And it was one feeling that I was keeping to myself. I didn't want to ever share those lips of hers with anyone else.

"Easy," I said, when she began to pick me up. "It hasn't been that long." We'd made love in the morning, before the alarm had sounded.

"Long enough," she said, her voice almost a growl.

Over two years, and I still was getting surprised when her voice wasn't clipped and precise, that almost emotionless tone that could intimidate anyone. You would think that I would have grown accustomed to her voice when we were alone, to the voice that she used only with me, to the voice that I was more often than not the cause of. But I couldn't. It still sent shivers down my spine.

"Seven, darling," I whispered, unclipping her hair. I'd seen Seven's hair down many times before we had become lovers, but nothing had ever prepared me for the rush of feelings I got when I was the one who had unclipped it. I loved it when it fell loosely across her shoulders I loved it even more when it fell across bare shoulders instead of the black shoulders of her Starfleet Uniform.

I unfastened the high stiff collar of her tunic, then my hands trailed down her chest, resting on her breasts. I paused, still not used to seeing her wear the black and gold uniform. The two gold pips on her collar only added to my unease.

"Is there something wrong, Kathryn?" she asked, her hands slipping up the back of my own red and black tunic.

"It's seeing you in a Starfleet uniform. I can't get used to it."

"I have been wearing one for five months now. That should be sufficient time for you to be comfortable with it."

"I know."

"Kathryn, I will discuss this with you, if you want, but I would much rather be making love with you."

And then she kissed me again, leaving me breathless and dizzy. All thoughts of Starfleet vanished from my mind and were replaced with thoughts of nearly six feet of a blonde Borg.

* * * * * * * * * *

Her breathing soft and regular, Seven lay sleeping beside me. I felt comforted, loved whenever she was next to me. Humanity restored, not only to her, but to me. My only regret about our relationship was that we - I - had waited so long. We knew each other, fought with each other for almost three years before I realized what I had truly felt for her.

I rolled onto my back and looked out at the stars. Even though our lovemaking had left me relaxed, I was still unable to fall asleep. I had too much on my mind. Tomorrow loomed over me like the Sword of Damocles.

I felt a hand on my stomach.

"You are awake."

It had not been a question. Instead, a statement, tinged with an edge of disappointment. I sighed.

"Was my lovemaking not enough to relax you?"

"It was wonderful, Seven. Just like always. I was just thinking about tomorrow."

"You have given me no option, Kathryn," she said, rolling onto her side, her arm slipping about my waist.

"What do you mean?"

"I must access other ways of relaxing you."

I knew what that meant, and my body tingled just at the thought. My favorite Borg was about to ravish me, and I wasn't going to lift a finger to stop her.

"Seven..."

"Be quiet, Kathryn," she ordered, her body pressing down atop mine. "Do not make any more noise."

I couldn't resist one more smart remark. "None? What about when I-"

She silenced me with another one of her kisses. Seven could be very persuasive, and commanding when she wanted to be. And I wanted her to be that way right then and there.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Damn it. Help me, Seven," I said, struggling with my pips.

"Stop moving, Kathryn. I cannot help you if you do not stand still."

"I don't like these uniforms at all."

"But you never liked your old dress uniforms. I believe you said that they made you feel 'fat and stumpy'. I would think that you would enjoy the change."

"I probably would if I didn't feel like I was dressed like one of the palace guards."

"They do resemble tuxedos," she commented.

I raised an eyebrow at her, unsure if Seven was teasing me.

"Or perhaps a... drum major," she added helpfully.

"How would you like to find yourself demoted to Ensign?"

"You will have to clear it first with Commander Tuvok, as I am sure he will not want to lose his second in command."

I could see that even with Seven officially entering the chain of command, she still wasn't going to let me get away with much.

"Lieutenant," I warned, fixing her with a patented Janeway glare.

"You are very handsome in your dress whites, Kathryn," she said, completely disarming me and my bad mood. She leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, her hands clasped behind her back.

"You look very nice, too, Seven," I complimented.

And she did. The white uniform brought out her pink cheeks and those magnificent... I quickly averted my eyes, hoping she hadn't seen me staring at her chest.

"Did you not have enough of me last night or this morning, Kathryn?" Her voice was husky.

"You know I never get enough of you, darling. And if we didn't have a formal reception to be at in fifteen minutes..."

"Promises, promises."

I laughed at her attempt to imitate B'Elanna Torres. "Shall we join the rest of the senior staff?" I asked.

* * * * * * * * * *

I sat at large table full of Commodores and Admirals. My senior staff was spread out and seated at nearby tables. Fortunately the seating left me with a clear view of Seven, and we were able to exchange glances several times. I could sense her discomfort even though Tuvok and Harry were seated at the same table. She found these type of functions utterly useless and a complete waste of time. Just one more reason not to like Starfleet.

I could argue with her the merits of receptions as I enjoyed the traditions and pomp of Starfleet. They did serve a need. I understood that the return of Voyager, thought to be lost with all hands, was a major victory for the Federation. I understood Starfleet's need for a little ceremony and celebrating. Especially now with our recent losses to the Cardassians.

I just didn't have much stomach for it today. A fancy sendoff before going into battle just stuck in my throat.

Thinking of my new ship, Voyager-B, cheered me. She was packed from hull to hull with everything Starfleet had. But the war had turned the Intrepid Class ships from Explorers into Battleships. Sleek and deadly, it was clearly built for speed and war. And by far now the largest ship I'd ever commanded. The Science departments were stripped down to basics, the majority of the space having been dedicated to expanding Sickbay. Two additional decks had been added just for weapons and engine enhancements. The battalion that I now had aboard my ship had been given two entire decks for quarters and training. No creature comforts on this ship either, though they did add two additional holodecks at my insistence, but it was only because I could justify their usefulness as simulators.

Secretly, I had been pleased and more than a little touched at the loyalty of my crew. After the initial debriefing of our voyage to the Delta Quadrant, the entire crew had been given the option of reassignment or return as my crew on the Voyager-B. Not one of my crew hesitated, even though they would join two hundred and twenty new crewmembers (one hundred and fifty in the battalion alone), and be going to war.

Starfleet had been generous after the debriefing. They gave the entire crew a month's leave. The Maquis members were given pardons and asked to join Starfleet. (Wartime tended to make Starfleet Command more forgiving). Even Seven was offered a field commission of Lieutenant. Of course, she only agreed to join Starfleet because it was the only way she could serve aboard Voyager-B, and remain beside me.

After their leave, the crew returned to Voyager-B. With a new ship and new crewmembers, we had our work cut for us. We had endured six months of intense training, learning everything Starfleet had to offer in battle plans and military strategy. Now the reality of the war was only days away. This reception, then a final three days of leave. We would receive our final orders then.

After the luncheon, I had Chakotay assemble the senior staff as per Admiral Paris' request. They were lined up, standing at attention when I escorted the Admirals and Commodores over. Seeing them in their dress uniforms, their faces so grim, I couldn't help but recall Seven's earlier remark about drum majors and I suppressed a smile.

As I called off their names, they stepped forward.

"Gentlemen, Ladies, my senior staff. Commander Chakotay, my First Officer. Commander Tuvok, Head of Security. Commander Beragun, Special Forces. Lieutenant Commander Torres, Chief Engineer. Lieutenant Kim, Operations. Lieutenant Paris, Helm. Lieutenant Taxsa, Navigation. Lieutenant Seven, Weapons. Lieutenant Ro, Tactical. Lieutenant Wildman, Science. Lieutenant Karter, Communications. Lieutenant Darris, Ship's Counselor. And our EMH Doctor."

The Command Staff quietly moved down the line, offering brief remarks to each of my crew. I stayed back, wanting their words to be private. Once they had left the room, I joined my crew for one last drink before we began our final leave.

I was already aware of the shore leave plans of my 'Delta Crew', a name that seemed to stick with me when I thought about the crew of Voyager-A. For the new members of my crew, I didn't know what their plans were. Commander Beragun was so serious and stern that I half-expected him to tell me he would be drilling his troops until the moment we left. Lieutenant Karter was a young, serious officer only two years out of Starfleet who reminded me of a young Harry Kim. He seemed to smile a little more readily, but his eyes had lines that a man his age should not have had. I knew he'd been in battle several times and had been recovering from his wounds when we had returned from the Delta Quadrant. Lieutenant Taxsa was a tall Labardian woman who had been in Starfleet several years. I was glad to have her in Navigation as I'd heard she was top-notch in finding the fastest way through every part of the Alpha Quadrant.

I knew Lieutenant Ro by reputation only. I had hesitated when I was told she would be assigned aboard Voyager. How many chances is any one officer to have, really? She seemed to have more second chances in Starfleet than a Terran cat had lives. But she came highly recommended and had acquitted herself well in many battles. It took less than a month of training for me to know that beneath her silent exterior lurked the heart and soul of a warrior, one with a gifted tactical mind.

I had been startled, and not all that happy, about having a counselor assigned to the ship. I didn't care that it was Starfleet protocol on ships the size of Voyager-B, or how good her reputation was as a counselor. I only knew that the thought of someone else on my ship knowing things about my crew that I wasn't privy to made me very uneasy.

Almost as if she'd been reading my thoughts, Lieutenant Darris turned and looked at me. I met her stare with one of my own. Her face suddenly broke into a warm, friendly smile and I almost felt ashamed of my mistrust. She raised her glass and toasted me, then turned back to Lieutenant Taxsa.

I moved my way through the group until I found Seven talking with Tom and B'Elanna. My new Weapons Officer was holding a glass containing a bright red liquid.

"Seven, Tom, B'Elanna," I said, nodding my head hello.

"Captain, can I get you a drink?" Seven offered.

"Yes, thank you. What are you drinking?"

"It is a beverage called Tropical Fruit Punch. Your mother introduced it to me one morning on our last visit to your home. You were still sleeping."

Tom and B'Elanna both grinned, completely understanding Seven's inference. I felt my face grow warm and hoped that I wasn't blushing.

"I found it to be both sweet and refreshing," Seven continued. "I have even programmed it into the replicators aboard the Voyager so that I could enjoy it there as well."

"I think I'd like something a bit stronger," I replied.

"The whiskey is very good here, Captain," Tom said. "And they've got some wines from the Picard Vineyards."

"It's still early in the day," I mused. "I think coffee would be a better choice for me."

"I will get it for you," Seven said, setting down her drink.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," I said, smiling.

Tom and B'Elanna had been vague, almost secretive about their plans. All that they would say was that they were spending it together and with his family. I was glad to see Tom and his father resolve their differences. And Admiral Paris seemed quite charmed by B'Elanna. Which surprised Tom, and me, to no end.

"So, what are you really doing for your last leave?" I asked, fixing them with what I hoped was my best 'Captain's look'.

"Just spending it here in San Francisco," B'Elanna said, her voice struggling to keep an innocent tone. "What about you? What are you and Seven doing?"

"We're leaving in two hours for my mother's home in Indiana. Admiral Paris has agreed to let me borrow a shuttle for one last spin over Earth."

"Didn't you spend your leave there?" B'Elanna continued with her questions.

I knew she was trying to keep the topic of conversation on me and off them. I decided not to press the issue with them. I'd find out sooner or later what they'd been up to. I could only hope that B'Elanna's common sense would make up for Tom's lack of it whenever he was on leave.

"Not completely. We stayed there for a little more than half of it, though it seems like I slept most of the time we were there."

"You never did tell us how your mother and sister reacted to you bringing Seven home."

"You're right. I didn't," I said, forcing a chilly tone to my voice that I really didn't feel.

I had to give B'Elanna credit. She didn't even flinch, though she did look surprised. After seven years together on Voyager, there was little we didn't know about each other.

"Kathryn, you should not tease them so," Seven said, handing me my drink. She turned to B'Elanna. "Gretchen and Phoebe were most gracious. Of course, Kathryn had informed them prior to our visit."

Once again, Seven had stymied my efforts to have a little fun at the expense of my crew.