Adaptations: A Sequel to Sustenance

Act II

"Kahless, Seven!" B'Elanna yelled. "I told you not to change those equations." She reached across the engineering console and nudged the tall blond aside to reinput her own numbers.

"Your calculations are incorrect, Lt. Torres," the Borg responded coolly, hands clasped behind her back in her customary stance.

"Like hell! But, anyway, that's 'irrelevant'!" the half-Klingon shot back mockingly. "I'm the chief engineer here. And even if you are sleeping with the captain, you take orders from me when you're on my turf."

They had been at it for hours, trying and retrying several configurations to stabilize the wormhole, but they weren't having much success.....and their growing fatigue and repeated failures were clearly beginning to take a toll.

The lieutenant's previous slights had been more subtle. Before, she had merely alluded to Seven enjoying special privileges because she was involved with the captain. But this time, Torres was too tired to be anything but carelessly blunt.

And Seven seemed too tired to simply let the matter go. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing back her ire but registering that this comment stung more than all the prior ones. Perhaps it was hearing the disparaging remark stated so plainly, but whatever it was, the magnitude of the insult made her blood boil; not for her own sake, but for Kathryn's, whose behavior was exemplary, professional, and beyond reproach, and who was owed respect, regardless. Seven decided that this Klingon needed to be put in her place.

"You dishonor my captain, P'taqh!"

Torres sneered at the Klingon insult but forced herself to stand firm knowing that it wasn't the time or place to exchange fisticuffs with the impudent Borg. "Meet me in Holodeck 2 after the staff meeting, and we'll settle this then," she spat back.

"I will comply," Seven replied easily.

"No you won't!" came the familiar tones of the First Officer.

"Chakotay!" Torres blurted in surprise.

The commander ignored the chief engineer for the moment. "Seven, report to the Astrometrics Lab immediately and complete your projections there."

Seven hesitated, wanting to beg Chakotay not to report the incident to the captain.

He registered her concern. "Move it, Seven, before I decide to bring the captain in on this."

She was visibly relieved before nodding her assent. "Yes, Commander," she said gratefully. Then she exited.

Chakotay next turned his attention to the chief engineer. "Your office! Now!" he barked uncharacteristically, leading the way to B'Elanna's office. Once inside with the door sealed, he immediately pivoted to face the lieutenant.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he demanded angrily.

"Why don't you ask Seven that?" B'Elanna responded defensively.

"Because there's nothing wrong with Seven."

"Like hell there isn't!" She bit off a few oaths as she paced back and forth feeling terribly misunderstood.

"Lieutenant," Chakotay called in disciplinary tones, "if you want the chance to tell your side of the story, this is your one shot. Take it!"

"All right," Torres conceded. "Seven and I had a 'difference of opinion' regarding our calculations for stabilizing the wormhole. Instead of following protocol, however, Seven just changed my formula. I decided to put her in her place."

"By challenging her to a combat? Klingon-style?"

"Actually, Commander, if you had come in sooner, you would have noticed that Seven challenged me," she countered smugly.

"Actually, Lieutenant, I did come in sooner, and what I noticed was that Seven made the challenge after you dishonored her.....and the captain."

Torres visibly flinched, instantly regretting that Chakotay had overheard her initial comment.

Chakotay seemed to read her mind. "What matters isn't that I heard you. The problem is that your entire engineering staff heard you. How do you think that looks -- the head of the engineering department implying that the captain plays favorites? Do you really think Kathryn is such a bad captain, B'Elanna? Do you think she'd let her personal relationship with Seven endanger her ship and crew?"

"Are you honestly going to tell me the thought has never crossed your mind, Chakotay?" B'Elanna challenged.

He turned from her, remembering the accusations he had made against Kathryn only weeks before in her Ready Room, the accusations that had led to her painful confession. Despite what he had told Seven about his duty forcing him to ask questions, he still felt wretched over the entire incident. And this, in turn, made him feel fiercely loyal towards Kathryn, deeply regretting the ordeal she and Seven had suffered....and respecting the relationship it had forged between them.

"One time, B'Elanna," he finally responded in a low, earnest voice. "I challenged Kathryn about her relationship with Seven only one time.....and then she told me more than I ever needed to know on the subject." He appeared very grave just then. "It was enough," he concluded mysteriously.

B'Elanna frowned, not understanding Chakotay's meaning. "Aren't you the least bit upset, Chakotay? I thought you were in love with her."

Chakotay smiled a little wistfully and shook his head. "That's all in the past. I haven't had romantic feelings toward her for a long time, well before Seven came into the picture."

"Well I think it would have been better for the crew if you had been the one the captain fell for. At least you're second in command, so we have to take orders from you anyway."

"What are you saying? Is Seven giving you orders?"

"She might as well be. She doesn't respect the chain of command! Doesn't respect protocol! She's arrogant as all hell!"

"And that's different from her previous behavior exactly how?" Chakotay asked ironically.

"It's a matter of degree," B'Elanna huffed. "And it's gotten worse -- because now she thinks the captain won't reprimand her."

"Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"From where I stand, B'Elanna, Seven is just as rude and arrogant and annoying as she's always been," he declared. "I think it's your perception that has changed."

"With all due respect, Chakotay, I think you're full of it. Seven thinks she can get away with anything now."

"Why would she think that, B'Elanna? It took Seven over a year to understand the concept of rank and to respect even the captain's position.....and it took her even longer to stop contradicting Kathryn all the time. So what makes you think she'd understand anything about how her personal relationship with the captain might improve her own status.....especially when you and a few others on this ship are working so hard to make her feel exactly the opposite?" he added pointedly. "That kind of special privilege isn't something Seven would know to exploit, B'Elanna. And it's just as well that she doesn't know -- because on this ship, Lieutenant, having a personal relationship with the captain doesn't make any difference. Is that understood?"

Torres swallowed back her Klingon pride. "Yes, Commander."

"As for perceptions and unequal treatment: it seems to me that you're the one letting her perceptions bias how you're treating Seven. Case in point: a qualified member of your engineering staff has pointed out possible errors in your calculations. Protocol dictates that you cross-check her data to see if her concerns are valid. So. Have you run Seven's calculations through the computer to see if her projections are correct?"

Torres swallowed again, this time with embarrassment. "No, Commander."

Chakotay approached his former Maquis companion with a saddened expression and touched the lieutenant's arm. "B'Elanna," he began in softer tones, "even if you were right about Seven taking special privileges, don't let it affect your performance. It isn't my place to make you stop hating Seven, although I'm sure the captain wishes you didn't. And nobody expects you to tolerate her insubordination. But don't let your personal feelings for her affect your responsibilities to this ship and crew. Isn't that what you expect from the captain, too? You can't demand any less of yourself. That isn't the Maquis way or the Starfleet way or the Klingon way. Is it?" he asked with a sad smile.

"No, it isn't," B'Elanna agreed softly. And with honest contriteness added, "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I'll run an analysis on Seven's calculations immediately. And I won't make this mistake again."

Chakotay nodded his head in acceptance of B'Elanna's apology and gratified by her promise, which he knew he could count on. "I'll expect a full report at the staff meeting in an hour." He started to leave then hesitated.

"B'Elanna," he called. "One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"You're going to have to find a way to deal with this.....because it isn't going away. The captain is in love with Seven, and Seven is just as head-over-heels in love with the captain. Next time you get the chance to observe them together, try noticing that. Trust me, you won't have to look very hard."

With that, he turned and walked out of engineering, leaving a stupefied chief engineer in his wake.

~~~~~~~

Perspiration dappled Kathryn Janeway's forehead as her tightly shut eyes twitched in agitation, stimulated by some disturbing image in her dream. She never slept well on the nights when Seven regenerated. The ex-Borg only needed to spend 6 out of every 72 hours in her alcove, and she'd always make it back to bed before Kathryn awoke. Even this short absence, however, was enough to unsettle the captain completely, her body naturally missing the warm, yielding press of Seven's flesh, the erotic provocation of her smells, the moist whisper of her breath.

Perhaps it was also the unsatisfactory resolution of the staff meeting the previous afternoon that was now giving Kathryn nightmares. After careful investigation -- and with the help of some projections supplied by Seven -- the crew had come to the conclusion that the wormhole's drifts were too erratic. Unless they could devise a way of minimizing the drift, they faced a 90% probability of getting thrown off course inside the wormhole funnel, which would crush Voyager and everyone onboard.

Sadly, then, the wormhole was proving to be another disappointment, and this type of failure was always the hardest felt. For although Voyager was no worse off than before Tuvok discovered the wormhole, it had raised their hopes enough that failure now would make their journey home stretch out before them like an eternal hell, bedeviling Kathryn Janeway, the captain who bore the brunt of the responsibility for Voyager's current predicament.

In Kathryn's dream-state, the wormhole began to taunt her with its false promises, turning her into a hungry Tantalus before a magnificent feast that was just out of reach. And try as she might, she just couldn't reach the fruit. Her body remembered the pain of a previous hunger. This was not simply a nightmare but a memory. She could feel the familiar sensation of her stomach contracting, the acid burning into the lining and making her cower and hug herself against all that emptiness. And when she looked up again at the fruit, it had become Seven, the source of her sustenance and the only real hope she had. The young woman was holding her arms out to Kathryn, her expression serene. But Kathryn couldn't reach her any more than she could reach the fruit.....or the wormhole.....or home. Everything she wanted, everything she needed, jumbled together in her tired mind and became Seven, a just-out-of-reach Seven. And realizing that she couldn't touch her beloved, she felt not just hopelessness and despair, but raw panic.

Kathryn whimpered and tossed again on the bed, her body dripping with sweat and tense with agitation.

"Seven!" she cried out in her sleep. "Seven!"

Something brushed her cheek, and she recoiled from the contact. And then she felt a weight pressing up against her, trying to envelope her. It wasn't until she smelled the familiar scents that she came awake, looking up into the worried expression of her lover.

"Seven," she breathed, tears coming freely.

"I am here," Seven whispered reassuringly.

"Seven," Kathryn called again, this time a mantra as she clutched for the security of the young woman's arms.

They held each other for a long while as Kathryn calmed herself. She continued to inhale deeply, less for the oxygen it afforded than for the sense of home that washed over her from Seven's many smells, the sweet perfume of her hair and skin, the metallic tang of her implants, even the slight singed scent of her suit after a regeneration cycle.

"Kathryn? Are you all right?"

"I am now," she responded, clutching tighter for emphasis.

Seven snuggled into the embrace and then she waited, giving Kathryn the opportunity to tell her about the dream if she wanted to. When the captain remained silent, the young woman guessed that she wanted to put those thoughts behind her. Seven accepted that, content simply to communicate her love for this woman.

She pressed her lips against Kathryn's forehead and instantly felt the dampness there. "You are wet," she observed, pulling up a portion of the sheet to dab at the captain's brow.

"I'm sorry. I can go shower if you like."

The young woman hugged her close, forestalling her departure. "I was not complaining, Kathryn," she said. Then added whimsically, "I like you wet."

Kathryn picked up on the suggestiveness of the statement. "Are you trying to get my mind off the nightmare?" she asked flirtatiously.

"I would find it acceptable if my actions had that consequence, too."

Kathryn filled in the rest and couldn't help chuckling. "Well at least you're honest," she joked.

As she rested her head on Seven's right shoulder, Kathryn idly traced the vertical weave of the ex-Borg's bodysuit. The plum one. Her favorite. She began just above Seven's heart, her fingers drawing energy from the vitality underneath and then trailing down the breastbone. She lifted her hand and moved it back up to trace a second path, this time beginning just to the left of the combadge and over the slope of Seven's left breast.

The young woman's breath hitched as Kathryn's finger passed slowly over the nipple, which stiffened instantly from the stimulation. The finger paused abruptly in its journey, as if considering something, and then retraced its path over the nipple again.

Two pairs of lips quirked in shared amusement, but neither woman spoke, obviously intent on seeing how far this little game would go.

Kathryn moved her hand up the shoulder and to the back of Seven's neck as the young woman shifted to give access to the fastening. Once there, the captain released the fastening and then tugged on that part of the suit until Seven's left shoulder and arm and breast were bare. From the sheer weight of the masses, Seven's breasts fell a bit to the sides when she lay on her back, and Kathryn enjoyed making a game out of grabbing them, pulling up, and then releasing those masses so she could watch how the artificial gravity of the ship always made them bounce back off to the sides.

As she indulged herself in this little game now, Seven rolled her eyes and sighed. Kathryn's lips curled with humor, but she ignored her nonetheless. She knew, of course, that Seven preferred a contact that concentrated on her more sensitive nipples, but she considered this game a kind of foreplay, a gentle teasing to heighten Seven's anticipation.....and her own.

And, in fact, after only a short while, Kathryn's fingers did return to the dark pink tip of Seven's breast. She began to pluck at the nipple vigorously, rolling it between the tight grip of her fingers and pulling up sharply until it released from her grasp, only to be plucked at again with more fervor.

Seven did not roll her eyes this time. Instead, she remained perfectly still, concentrating all her attention on the erotic sensation Kathryn was creating by pinching her nipple with such intensity. The bulbous tip began to throb, not from too much contact but oddly from the acute sensation that there was too little contact. Kathryn continued to provoke with the same intensity, however -- no more, no less -- as if wanting to prolong the sweet aching, and this made Seven arch her back, naturally gravitating towards the contact.

Perfectly perceiving Seven's desire, Kathryn finally lifted her head and brought her mouth down around the fat nipple, pulling it fiercely into her hot, wet mouth, the sharp edges of her teeth rasping against the skin with each hungry intake.

Seven inhaled sharply through her teeth. In the next moment, she brought her hand up to hold Kathryn's head to her, simultaneously bending down so she could kiss that head, inhaling the musky smell of Kathryn's sweat-damp hair.

While Kathryn had been teasing her, the only thing Seven could concentrate on was how much she wanted this sensation. For reasons she couldn't comprehend, it was only now that Kathryn was where she belonged that Seven could begin to think anew. And as her mind started working again, she curiously found herself wanting to talk. Not about just anything, but about sex, about each other, about all the lovely things they could indulge in for the rest of the night. After all, she reasoned, Kathryn did need that diversion from her nightmare and from all the worries of her day.

"Kaaaathrrryn," she trilled seductively.

The captain laughed into the pink areola. Seven only used that melodic call when she was feeling amorous.....aroused......as she often felt after regeneration. The cycle apparently both energized and excited.

Unwilling to release the nipple, Kathryn did, at least, answer the call with an amused "Hmmm?"

The accidental hum reverberated around Seven's nipple and made her smile. "Would you do that again?" she requested.

Kathryn honestly had no idea what she was talking about. "Hmmm?" she asked again.

Seven's smile grew broader. "Thank you."

At last the captain understood and laughed again around her mouthful. Then she hummed in several mock hungry sounds, which tickled Seven and made her laugh. Kathryn pulled up and looked at Seven, both women visibly amused as they struggled to catch breath.

"Did you want something, darling?" Kathryn finally asked as she knelt up. She motioned for Seven to sit up, too, so they could finish undressing her.

"Do you remember the experiment we conducted with my nanoprobes?" Seven asked. Her tone feigned innocence as she idly traced around one of Kathryn's nipples, but there was undeniable mischief in her expression.

"Which?"

"The one in which I induced your breasts to lactate?" Seven explained.

Kathryn studied her partner for a moment, tugging her suit off before responding warily. "Yes?"

Seven absently licked her lips before continuing, her eyes fixed on one of Kathryn's breasts. "Could we do that again sometime?"

There was a childlike entreaty in Seven's tone that filled Kathryn with tenderness and amusement all at once. Still, she couldn't help but feel that this was something she should object to.

"Darling, I'm not so sure that's a habit we should get into."

"Oh, I agree," Seven assured quickly. "Nevertheless, it was.....pleasant."

Kathryn smiled fondly. "I suspect that's your alcove talking."

"That does not make any sense, Kathryn."

"I mean, you're sexually aroused from your regeneration cycle."

"Oh," Seven said, finally comprehending. "I do not believe that is accurate. Even when I am tired and have not regenerated for a long while, I find myself thinking about reliving that experience with you."

"You fantasize about me breast-feeding you," Kathryn translated.

"Yes. And I am simply saying that I wish to experience that again someday; not that I wish to make a 'habit' out of it."

"I'll think about it," Kathryn agreed. "OK?"

"'O-K'," Seven reiterated happily, having received the concession she sought. They kissed then, several slow, patient kisses. After a few breathless moments, Seven continued. "I also 'fantasize' about engaging in several other activities with you."

Now it was Kathryn's turn to roll her eyes. But she smiled fondly nevertheless and asked, "Darling, why don't you just tell me what you'd like to do tonight?"

Two eyebrows -- one blond, one gunmetal -- shot up excitedly. In the next moment, they pleated pensively as the young Borg considered her options. Finally, her face gleamed in a broad, decisive smile.

"I wish to play the 'astronaut' game."

"What?" Kathryn asked in genuine confusion.

"The game you created on the planet.....where we pretend to be 'deep space explorers' and we send out 'probes'," Seven explained excitedly.

"Oh, that!" Kathryn declared wide-eyed. "Uh, darling, you must understand I was not in my right frame of mind when I invented that game," she protested, her face coloring. "I mean, I was half-starved, after all."

"Oh, I know, Kathryn!" Seven replied, completely missing her partner's distress. "That is what I found most impressive. That you should devise such an inventive pastime for us despite your undernourishment and strained mental faculties. It was at that moment that I truly appreciated what an exceptional leader you are. We were so near to death that I certainly would have grown despondent had you not come up with that pleasant diversion," Seven explained, beaming proudly.

Kathryn blinked. "Thank you," she finally said in a small voice.

"No, Kathryn," Seven responded sincerely. "It is I who must thank you." She hugged the older woman closely and nuzzled her ear. "Thank you, Kathryn. Thank you for loving me.....in so many wondrous ways."

That brought a broad smile to the older woman's face. She hugged back, pressing a tender kiss very near to Seven's ear. A moment later, she felt herself become suddenly eager to play the game Seven had suggested."Turn around, darling," she ordered huskily.

"No, Captain," Seven replied provocatively. "I wish to be the astronaut."

Kathryn swallowed down her dismay. "All right," she said slowly. "Just give me a quick ten minutes to take care of a few things in the bathroom. OK?"

"That is acceptable. It will give me the opportunity to replicate some items that will facilitate our enjoyment of this game."

"Items?"

"Yes. I researched this activity shortly after we returned to Voyager."

"I see." Kathryn took a breath as if to say something more and then checked herself. "Never mind," she said.

As Kathryn showered and employed a few other devices for a thorough cleaning, Seven walked into the main living area of the captain's quarters and began programming selections into the replicator. Several minutes later, she returned to the bedroom and laid out her "props." She understood, of course, that she and Kathryn were not really "role-playing." The playful metaphors the older woman had used to describe this particular sexual act were intended more as euphemisms.

Seven considered that. She did not entirely understand why the captain had appeared embarrassed moments ago by this act, especially when the two of them had so thoroughly enjoyed it back on the planet. No matter. She was delighted that Kathryn was willing to engage in it now since Seven found the physical sensations extremely satisfying -- the more so since it seemed such an intimate, trusting, personal act, something she could never imagine doing with anyone but Kathryn.

After a moment, Kathryn came out of the bathroom feeling refreshed and energized.....and decidedly aroused. She had set the water to a hot pulse, which she always found mildly titillating, and had worked the jets into those areas where Seven would be lavishing her singular attention. When she saw the mussed bed, she shook her head marveling at how barely an hour ago, she had been in the throes of a horrid nightmare and in just a few moments, she would be in the throes of a most delicious embrace. She did wonder if Seven's seduction had been part of a scheme to divert her attentions from the wormhole. If it had, she smiled, the plan was working beautifully.

Seven came around the bed to where Kathryn was standing and placed her hands on the captain's hips, pulling her in. They kissed for a long while until their breathing became ragged. And once again Kathryn felt damp.

"Come here," Seven instructed imperiously.

She sat on the end of the bed and gently pulled Kathryn by the thighs until she was straddled across her lap.

Seven always marveled at how perfect this position was, allowing exceptionally easy access -- Kathryn's sex spread open and yielding at the young woman's fingertips while her breasts bounced provocatively at just the right height for Seven to nibble on the taut, pink tips. Seven exploited both opportunities now, sucking eagerly at one of the nipples before her while reaching down with her right hand to finger the crease that yawned open on her lap and invited her explorations. And Seven the astronaut was feeling very explorative.

The former Borg's heightened senses picked up the scent of Kathryn's growing arousal even as her fingers luxuriated in the copious juices that the captain's sex was producing.

Kathryn was ready.

Seven reclined, urging the smaller woman to crawl over her and to the top of the bed. And, of course, as Kathryn's body moved slowly past, the young woman indulged in a nibble here and a taste there. That made it difficult for Kathryn to avoid falling on her lover. The ex-Borg didn't seem to be worried, however, deliberately pulling the soft weight to herself as she happily drove the captain to distraction.

Finally reaching the pillows, Kathryn settled face down onto them, and then turned her head toward Seven's night stand, where some items had been laid out. She watched curiously now as the young woman came back around and started making preparations.

Seven picked up one of the items she had replicated and snapped it onto her right fingers and hand.

"A latex glove?" Kathryn asked.

Seven cocked her head, her expression whimsical. "Class-four probe casing," she corrected, sticking to the scenario.

Kathryn laughed. "Class four! Darling, you aren't sending your 'probe' into an ion storm or some unstable wormhole." Kathryn's face fell a bit at her own mention of an unstable wormhole.

Seven caught the reaction and purposely diverted the captain's attentions to her gloved fingers. She reached out to Kathryn's right arm, which rested on the pillow, and slowly traced the length of it, from the wrist to the shoulder, encouraging Kathryn to focus all her thoughts on the tactile sensation of the latex rubbing along her skin.

Kathryn closed her eyes in concentration, exceptionally aroused by Seven's actions. The fact that she knew those gloved fingers would be intimately snuggling into her in just moments made their deliberate caress less innocent, more scintillating. She inhaled slowly and then let out a shuddering breath.

She half-opened her eyes when she felt Seven's fingers pull away and observed the young woman dipping the gloved fingers into a jar and then rubbing a substance onto them. Her lips curled in amusement as she allowed herself to get into the spirit of the game.

"That's the propellant -- right?" she suggested.

Seven smiled, but no longer innocently.

The look sent a shiver through Kathryn. She closed her eyes again in anticipation as Seven approached with the lubricated and gloved fingers. A gasp escaped the older woman's lips as she felt Seven begin to trace a silky fingertip down the nape of her neck and along the bony protrusions of her spine.

When the finger reached the small of her back, it abruptly pulled away. Kathryn half-opened her eyes in reaction. Her anticipation rose as she saw Seven going for more lubricant. Without conscious thought, she tucked her knees up, her body still prone but kneeling over to open up more to Seven's explorations.

Seven smiled when she turned back and saw that Kathryn had repositioned herself. "You are enjoying this," she noted.

"Mmmm," Kathryn murmured in agreement.

The young woman crawled up behind her captain and began trailing her thumb down the exposed spine, wanting to spare the better lubricated index finger for its final destination. When she reached the crease, the captain gave a short whimper. Intrigued, Seven stayed her course, lingering provocatively at the top to build Kathryn's anticipation even more. After a moment, Kathryn's buttocks began to wiggle impatiently, and Seven relented with a smile.

She pressed on in a steady movement until she reached the small, puckered opening. Then she gently inserted the tip of her index finger, pausing a moment as the captain gasped with delighted surprise and then got accustomed to the subtle stretching. Then, with a slight twisting back and forth, Seven slowly pushed her finger into the tight orifice until she was inside the captain as far as she could go.

Kathryn inhaled sharply and trembled at the intimate sensation.

Seven pulled herself up and partly over the captain's back. She supported most of her own weight on her left shoulder but sensed that Kathryn would want the feel of the young woman's body draping over her, cocooning her, protecting her. The appreciative moan that emanated from deep inside Kathryn's throat let the young woman know that she had been right.

Seven understood that this form of penetration would make Kathryn feel acutely vulnerable, and she wanted to communicate, with the simple press of her flesh against Kathryn's, that she was worthy of this great trust. The exchange epitomized the true nature of their relationship -- that this bigger-than-life Starfleet captain could permit herself to be small and frail around the ex-Borg, who responded to this trust with hitherto unknown and untapped reserves of love and security and sustenance, in whatever form was required. On the planet, that sustenance had taken the form of breast milk, which supplied nutrients the captain's body needed to survive. But the two women quickly discovered that there were other forms of sustenance, less tangible but no less necessary for their survival, and it was this form of emotional support that Seven provided now in unexpected abundance, and that Kathryn returned with equal generosity. It was at moments like this that nothing else mattered except the love and trust that they nurtured between them.

Seven elicited another moan from Kathryn as she snuggled still closer with her body while her finger pushed in more deeply in its intimate caress. She stole nips and kisses along the silky skin of the captain's neck and shoulder. Then she nuzzled the older woman's ear.

"You are my universe, Kathryn," she whispered.

"Yes," Kathryn agreed, trembling.

"And I intend to discover and explore every parsec of space in my universe."

Another small sound of ecstasy erupted from Kathryn's throat.

Seven's finger did not remain idle in its probing. Instead, she kept twisting it deep inside Kathryn, as if to stretch her open more and facilitate a much deeper exploration of her farthest reaches.

"Oh......oh, Seven!" Kathryn cried, the sensations overwhelming her. She felt her arousal trickling down the inside of her quivering thighs.

Seven detected it with her acute sense of smell and reached around and underneath Kathryn with her left hand until her Borg-implanted fingers were slithering over the sensitive knot of the captain's sex.

"Ah!" Kathryn called out at the added sensation. She buried her face in her pillow and bit down on it as if to muffle her more ecstatic responses.

Seven brushed her lips along the fine, soft down of Kathryn's neck and back, resisting the overwhelming urge to bite, to consume Kathryn completely. Instead, she breathed deeply, inhaling Kathryn's many delicious scents, and concentrated on her probing technique.

Feeling experimental, she slowly pulled her finger out halfway and then just as slowly twisted it back in, repeating the maneuver in a sort of languorous thrust. "Like this, Kathryn?" she asked in low, seductive tones. "Or....." she began, interrupting herself to demonstrate a different technique. Then, she pushed her finger inside and began to wriggle it in a slow, provocative tickle, all the while prodding deeper. ".....or is this more to your liking?" she whispered.

Kathryn took another shuddering breath. "I....can't tell....I like both," she managed haltingly. And then she changed her mind. "Uhm.....the second.....I like the second way....a bit more.....oh, darling, more!"

Seven smiled. With her latex-covered, right index finger, she dug deeply into the tiny hole behind, while with her metal-encased, left index finger, she slithered gently but firmly back and forth over the rigid nub in front. And all the while, she kept pressing herself hotly onto Kathryn's back and nuzzling her neck, the heat between them starting to make them perspire.

Sweat beaded over Kathryn's upper lip and hairline at the combination and intensity of these sensations.

"Oh, yes.....like that......Don't stop!" she pleaded. Her body began to tremble with the onset of climax.

Now that she had established the right rhythm for Kathryn, Seven concentrated on maintaining it, letting the captain ride through it. Then the small body beneath hers lifted up a little and became rigid with tension. And suddenly the universe seemed caught in some great cosmic force, frozen in a perfect moment of ecstasy. The moment peaked, marked poignantly by a muffled cry of joy from a mouth biting down on a pillow. And in the next instant, the universe grew calm again, Kathryn's body collapsing beneath Seven's.

Seven moved her left hand away from Kathryn's sex and up to her stomach, hugging the captain's body to herself. She also paused the intimate movement of her right index finger although she did not remove it, content simply to hold Kathryn in place while she descended from her climax. Listening intently to their heavy breathing, she caught the subtle change in Kathryn's -- a soft sigh of pleasure -- and it was only then that Seven released Kathryn, carefully removing the invasive finger to let her rest. Then she slowly pulled herself away so that she could roll the smaller woman over.

Kathryn did not protest, letting herself be guided onto her back by Seven, who reached down and pulled gently on her buttocks. Kathryn found even this simple gesture remarkably erotic, acutely aware that Seven was methodically repositioning her for further explorations. And when she felt the cool air caressing the reddened center of her sex, she gasped again, enjoying the sensation that now this part of her anatomy was splayed open for Seven's exploration. As before, she absently tucked her knees closer to her body, spreading her lips and buttocks apart in an erotic display of her two seductive nether regions.

That was all the invitation Seven needed. Placing the pad of her still well-lubricated index finger over the puckered opening that was once more beckoning to her, she reentered the captain in one smooth movement.

Kathryn gasped at the provocative sensation of being stretched open again by Seven's probe.

It was then that Seven began twisting her finger deeply inside Kathryn, rekindling the passion. And then she began stroking her thumb along the length of Kathryn's sex.

Kathryn moaned with renewed interest, looking up at her Borg, who suddenly had a very smug look on her face.

"You like this," Seven declared.

"I like everything you do to me," Kathryn responded honestly.

Seven's eyebrow quirked up inquisitively. "No matter how 'wickedly naughty'?" the young woman prompted.

Kathryn smiled. "The naughtier, the better," she purred.

Seven was mimicking an expression Kathryn had used the previous time they had indulged in this form of sexual exploration. And she had heard her partner use many other expressions to describe their lovemaking activities. She understood that Kathryn found these expressions titillating, and she hoped that in time, she, too, would come to appreciate the idea of "fucking," as Kathryn had once put it, as much as she appreciated the physical acts themselves. For the time being, she was at least grateful that she could evoke certain reactions in Kathryn by employing some of the terms and phrases she was teaching her, including the inventive metaphors of their "astronaut" game.

"Should I launch another probe, Kathryn?" Seven asked with playful eroticism.

Kathryn bit her lower lip in consideration. "Gently," she said after a moment.

"Always," Seven vowed.

She reached over to the night stand with her left hand and picked up another load of lubricant, bringing it over to where her right hand laid nestled between Kathryn's legs. Then she dabbled the added lubrication on the exposed middle finger. She felt Kathryn shifting a little and then watched as the older woman readied herself by reaching down with both hands and pulling her buttocks farther apart, opening herself up further to allow Seven more access.

There was so much trust in Kathryn's gesture, an intimacy and private sharing that made Seven want to touch her even more, to reach in and make love to everything that was Kathryn.

Seven gazed with growing desire as she pulled her index finger out and then began very slowly pressing the two fingers together into Kathryn's small opening. She proceeded cautiously, gauging the captain's responsiveness. She wanted to keep the penetration pleasurable by giving Kathryn time to adjust to the girth of the two fingers. There was some initial resistance, and then she sensed the captain pushing open and forcing herself to relax. Seven responded to the subtle invitation by pressing into Kathryn in one final, decisive motion until both her fingers were snuggled inside. She then waited while Kathryn flexed the surrounding muscle, obviously adjusting to the added dimensions of the second "probe."

"Are you experiencing any discomfort, Kathryn?" Seven asked with sincere concern.

"No, my love," Kathryn responded without hesitation. She licked her dry lips and then added, "Quite the opposite."

"You are experiencing pleasure, then," Seven stated playfully, twisting her fingers slightly for emphasis.

Kathryn gasped. "Understated.....but accurate," she finally replied, her voice beginning to catch.

Seven increased the subtle, twisting motion of her two fingers until it seemed, finally, that there was no resistance at all. It was then she began a moderate, thrusting rhythm, easily stroking in and out of Kathryn. She saw that the captain was still watching her, so she brazenly ogled the area between Kathryn's legs.

Ogling Kathryn's naked body was a privilege Seven had been granted back on the planet by virtue of becoming the captain's lover, and she enjoyed exercising this privilege at every opportunity. She indulged her bliss now by studying Kathryn's private parts, knowing that the open inspection would further titillate her. She smiled a little smugly when she saw the effect of her inspection, her ocular implant detecting a fresh rush of fluid spilling out of Kathryn's sex.

"You are very wet, Kathryn," she declared.

Kathryn smiled, almost chastely, which to Seven seemed an odd counterpoint to their "wickedly naughty" activity. She found it remarkably arousing.

"You have such interesting spaces to explore," she announced, swiping her thumb provocatively along the wet crease. "I believe I need to launch a third 'probe' into this anterior region, to determine the source of all this moisture."

Kathryn could barely speak through the sharp edge of desire that overwhelmed her at that moment. "Do it!" she croaked.

Seven's nostrils flared in subtle triumph. Watching the captain intently, she circled her thumb around the rim of Kathryn's sex in an effort to heighten her anticipation. Then she briefly poked the tip of her thumb inside and swirled it around once before pulling out again.

Kathryn bucked into the contact, trying to draw the thumb in, but Seven seemed determine to set the pace. She twisted her fingers in the smaller opening, simply to remind Kathryn that they were there.

"Mmmm," Kathryn moaned helplessly. "Please!" she begged.

Finally, Seven push the full length of her thumb into Kathryn's sex, wriggling all her digits deeply inside the captain.

Kathryn let out a quivering cry at the feel of this double penetration. She felt so filled and stretched by Seven.....and rocked by the intimacy of the contact between them. Then she began panting in short bursts as she felt Seven rubbing her thumb and forefinger together, caressing the delicate membrane between the two digits, the thin barrier of sensitive tissue that separated Kathryn's two innermost regions.

The captain's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Do you...." she began, her voice breaking. Then she swallowed and tried again. "Do you have any idea how good that feels?"

Seven smiled. "I trust you will show me at some point."

"Oh, yesss," Kathryn promised.

She felt her nipples tighten with renewed excitement, suddenly aching for attention. She briefly caressed herself, tweaking her nipples roughly, and then held a breast toward Seven with one hand while she reached out to the young woman with the other hand.

Seven perceived that invitation, too, and did not hesitate to accept, swooping down in one fluid motion until she was settled again over Kathryn, languidly sucking on the offered nipple.

Kathryn tangled her fingers in the blond hair and moaned against the building tension of a second orgasm. She felt at once utterly filled and completely consumed by Seven as the ex-Borg began prodding into her lower regions with more energy while devouring the tips of her breasts with greater gusto. The sight of her nipples disappearing in between Seven's full, red lips added to her excitement. And she was also acutely aware of the sounds of their lovemaking, the moist, smacking noises of Seven's fingers poking her humid sex and Seven's wet mouth sucking up on her nipples. She inhaled against the building excitement and was further titillated by the provocative odors of their sweat and sex and the sweet perfume of Seven's silky hair feathering across her chest. All of Kathryn's senses were overwhelmed by the intense eroticism of the moment. And in the next instant, she felt her body finally surrendering, for a second time, to Seven's thorough ministrations.

This time, however, Seven got caught up in the moment and did not release Kathryn. Instead, she increased the intensity, thrusting harder into Kathryn and sucking on one nipple and then the other with wild abandon. Kathryn rode that wave, too, through a third orgasm, slightly shocked that she could come in such quick successions.

Then the captain took command of the situation. She pushed Seven off and then forced her onto her back, understanding that the young woman was now distracted by her own desperate need for release. Kathryn did not hesitate.

Pulling her lover's fingers out of her over-indulged sex, Kathryn began her own careful ministrations. She clamped her mouth down firmly over one of Seven's plump nipples and then pulled up fervently, sucking it in several times to inflame the young woman. Then she quickly trailed her lips down to where Seven needed the most attention.

The blond fuzz of Seven's sex was drenched and sticky with arousal. Remembering how the alcove energy titillated Seven, Kathryn realized that tonight, the young woman had postponed her release for a long time. Kathryn felt a pang of pity and immediately seized on her task. Pulling the wet down of Seven's sex apart, she buried her face in the sweet smelling crease and nuzzled the pearl in greeting. Then, happily nestling her face there, she began lapping provocatively at the engorged tissues, feeling Seven wiggle and moan around her.

Kathryn released the sides of Seven's mound, letting them hug her face, and brought her hands up again to Seven's bosom to pinch the nipples, twisting and tweaking in the exceptionally tight grip that she knew Seven enjoyed.

The young woman writhed and moaned her satisfaction, petting Kathryn's hands in approval and then caressing down the length of her arms, over her shoulders, and onto her head, stroking the hair even as she gently pulled Kathryn closer, subtly encouraging a deeper contact.

The captain responded to the communicative caress with a deep penetration of her tongue, which made Seven wiggle with delight. Then she swiped it the full length of Seven's sex, even over the tiny opening in the rear.

Seven gasped.

Kathryn smiled to herself and then indulged in an act she'd never consider doing with anyone but Seven. She licked avidly around the small hole, bouncing slightly against it whenever Seven bucked from the intensity. And then she squeezed the tip of her tongue into it as far as possible, penetrating Seven and licking deep inside her.

After a moment, she pulled out to catch her breath. She looked up at Seven and noticed that the young woman was deeply enthralled by the act. Kathryn couldn't resist the temptation to tease her.

"How do you like my new 'deep space probe,' darling?"

Somehow, Seven managed to bite back her first ecstatic reply. She responded instead with a Borg reserve that she sensed Kathryn would find unexpectedly humorous.

"The rough, wet texture of the casing is intriguing, Captain," she quipped, "but I require additional data before commenting on its effectiveness. I recommend more test launches.....many more."

Kathryn laughed. "Indeed," she said, feigning displeasure at the young woman's immodest response. She pinched her nipples a little harder, grinning when Seven gasped. "And what makes you think you can endure 'many more test launches' of my new probe?"

Seven quirked her brow, trying to retain a measure of control through her building excitement. "I am Borg. I will adapt."

Kathryn laughed at the young woman's unique brand of humor and rewarded her by beginning a series of probative explorations along the full length of her sex. She flicked the tip of her tongue excitedly over the sensitive nub at the top, stuffed its entire length indelicately into the large opening in the middle, and then squeezed it almost rudely into the tinier hole in back. And all the while she was lapping relentlessly at Seven's sex, she continued tweaking the plump nipples until the young woman could no longer bear the delicious intensity of stimulating pinches and probes.

The poignant trembling of Seven's thighs announced her assent. Then, with an uncharacteristically loud cry of joy, she climaxed in a series of spasms that shook her universe like a huge ion storm. And when it was all over, she collapsed with exhaustion.

Only then did she feel Kathryn slowly pulling her "probe" out. Seven smiled. The entire exploration had been "wickedly naughty," and the mere thought of that made the ex-Borg squirm with delight.

~~~~~~~

"Hold still, Seven!" the Doctor instructed.

The young woman couldn't resist the temptation to "fidget," as the hologram put it, in reaction to the feel of the instrument the Doctor was using to adjust Seven's ocular implant.

"I am sorry, Doctor, but my implant appears to be unusually sensitive to the touch of the micro-filament you are employing."

"That's odd. You've never been that sensitive before. In fact, your Borg nanoprobes have always induced your body to produce additional amounts of endorphin. It's what makes Borg drones resistant to pain," he explained unnecessarily. "I wonder if this new hyper-sensitivity is a side-effect of your having to use the portable regeneration unit while stranded on the planet. The low energy signals of the unit might have allowed more of your natural human physiology to assert itself."

Seven sighed. "That is not the cause of my increased sensitivity, Doctor."

"Oh? How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have been adjusting the settings of my body's receptors," Seven admitted.

The Doctor harrumphed. "For what purpose?" he asked indignantly, as if Seven had just admitted to borrowing one of his tricorders without asking.

The ex-Borg understood that the body she possessed now was partly the good Doctor's handiwork, but at times she thought he sounded far too proprietary, as if Seven's body was more his than hers. This was one of those times. And the suggestion made Seven feel suddenly contrary.

"None of your business, Doctor," she declared.

The hologram became uncharacteristically subdued. In fact, he seemed almost hurt, which in turn made Seven feel unaccountably odd. She bit her lower lip and finally relented.

"It is an experiment, Doctor," she mumbled.

"What sort of experiment?"

The young woman inhaled. "It is a.....personal matter," she said finally, hoping that would be the end of it.

"I'm your doctor, Seven. If there's a chance you're engaging in experiments that could endanger your physical well-being, then I need to evaluate and approve those experiments before you proceed with them."

Seven was stymied by his response. If what the hologram was saying extended to her physical explorations with her sex partner, then the Doctor had a good deal more latitude in each individual's personal life than Seven would have thought possible.....or even appropriate, especially given that her partner was the captain.

"I believe my terms may have been misleading, Doctor. I am not conducting a scientific experiment on myself; rather, I have been exploring different aspects of my physical relationship with the captain."

"Oh?" the Doctor asked, and then "Oh!" he said, as if coming to some understanding. He suddenly became concerned and adopted an unexpectedly confidential tone. "Seven, have you been having trouble.....well......climaxing?"

Seven shot him a wide-eyed look. "Doctor?"

He misinterpreted her response. "You know, having an orgasm?"

"Doctor, I know what 'climax' means! And that is not the problem!"

"Then why have you adjusted your sensitivity settings?"

"I merely wished to see if I could experience the sensation of being 'ticklish'," she explained finally.

The Doctor blinked in mild surprise. "I see," he lied. "Seven," he went on after a moment, "not everyone is ticklish. Even some regular human beings, without the advantage of Borg suppressors, don't experience that level of tactile sensitivity. You're body simply may not be susceptible to tickles."

"But as you noted yourself only moments ago, Doctor, I have been successful. I 'flinched' when you 'tickled' my ocular implant with the micro-filament."

"Ah, yes. That's what started this whole thing, isn't it?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Well, let me see if I can manage to complete the adjustments without tickling you further," he said ironically.

Seven smiled fondly, feeling a new kind of appreciation for her old friend's sardonic brand of humor. Maybe that was one of the real side-effects of her being stranded. That she had developed a better sense of humor. Indeed, now that she considered it, she decided that it was impossible for even a Borg to get stuck for twenty-five days with someone like Kathryn Janeway and not develop a sense of humor.

An odd little sound emanated from Seven's throat catching both her and the Doctor by surprise.

"Did you just laugh, Seven?"

"I do not know," she marveled in mild shock. "Did it sound like a laugh?"

"Very nearly," the Doctor responded in mock seriousness. Then his face broke into a warm smile, and Seven's face mirrored it.

With the mood lightened, the Doctor began humming a little aria as he completed the adjustments to Seven's implant. "Seven," he asked idly after a moment, "why the sudden interest in whether or not you're ticklish?"

Seven answered honestly, letting down her guard a bit with her old friend. "Now that the captain and I are involved in a personal relationship, I find myself wanting to experience the things she experiences. Even the things that at one time seemed irrelevant to me."

"That's a natural reaction."

"Is it?" Seven asked skeptically. "There's so much about what I feel for Kathryn that I don't understand," she said, a sense of regret evident in her normally placid tone.

Having completed the adjustments, the Doctor put aside the micro-filament device and gave Seven his full attention, his demeanor kind and sincere. "What are you feeling, Seven?"

"I do not know if I can verbalize it, Doctor. I feel this attachment to Kathryn, an overwhelming need always to be in her company, and especially to make certain that she is safe."

"Maybe the old Chinese proverb is true, that when you save someone's life, you become responsible for it."

Seven frowned, visibly accessing her stores of data. "The 'Chinese'," she recited. "Inhabitants of 'China'. One of the oldest civilizations in earth's history, known especially for its art and philosophy." She quirked her brow. "Why would they say such a thing?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But the old saw does seem to fit your present situation."

Seven considered that. "It is true, Doctor, that caring for the captain makes me feel.....complete." She looked at him with a sense of revelation. "I am now a part of Kathryn's collective," she declared happily, using terms she could comprehend.

The Doctor smiled fondly. "Yes, Seven," he asserted simply. After a moment, he mused, "You know, it does make sense that you should feel responsible for the captain even now. For over three weeks, all of your efforts, your every waking thought, and in fact your entire body, as well, were all directed toward only one goal: ensuring the captain's survival. You gave yourself over so completely to that sense of duty that it defined your own reason for being. And I think you're now finding it impossible to give up that habit." He frowned. "In fact, I hadn't considered it until just now, but the bond you share with the captain may be the effect of the psychosomatic trauma the two of you experienced."

Seven wasn't certain she liked the direction the conversation was suddenly taking. "Are you saying it is wrong for me to feel so attached to the captain?"

"I'm suggesting that you may think you love her and for the wrong reasons -- because the two of you became dependent on each other over the course of your ordeal."

"No, Doctor," she responded almost threateningly. "I know I love Kathryn and for the right reasons. Because she is kind, intelligent, compassionate, beautiful, trusting, naughty --"

"Seven!" the Doctor tried to interrupt. "Seven, please!"

"-- humorous!" she broke off her litany of Kathryn's positive traits to allow the hologram to explain.

He took an unnecessary breath. "Seven, I'm not trying to cast doubts on your feelings for the captain. Honestly.....However, it does occur to me that the two of you may have some as yet unresolved issues given your traumatic experiences."

"I believe we do have 'issues', but they are not the result of our experiences on the planet. They are the result of our return to Voyager. Perhaps you have not noticed, Doctor, but except for you and Commander Chakotay, the crew appear to be unable to adapt to the captain's new relationship with me......and even you are now doubting the validity of our feelings."

"Not at all, Seven," the Doctor protested with visible regret. Then he complained half to himself, "Oh, it's times like this that I'd give my port holo-emitters for a ship's counselor. I make such a mess of things when I try psychoanalyzing the crew! I'm sorry, Seven. Truly sorry."

The young woman softened. "Do not upset yourself, Doctor. 'No harm done'," she said using a stock phrase, but he understood the sentiment to be sincere.

"As for the crew," the Doctor proceeded after a moment, "I have noticed their general negativity towards this relationship. Maybe Chakotay and I understand because we know more about what you went through."

Now it was Seven's turn to express a note of regret. "If that is what is required for the crew to accept my love for Kathryn, I fear they will never adapt....because they can never know what you and Chakotay know. They can never know what we did. It would devastate Kathryn."

"I know, Seven. It won't come to that," he said, trying to sound convincing. "I'm sure the crew will come around....in time....."

~~~~~~~

Ensign Golot rubbed her tired eyes and then read the chronometer in her engineering workstation: "1632" hours.

The display meant nothing concrete to her. Just an arbitrary arrangement of numbers. It was "F.S.T." -- Federation Standard Time -- based on twenty-four terran hours, the equivalent of one earth day. Before traveling to San Francisco and joining Starfleet Academy, that temporal cycle was unknown to the young Bolian. It was an alien clock from an alien planet in an alien solar system. And of all the trials she had faced at the academy, that had been the hardest: adjusting her own physiology to a standard terran day.

The Bolian day, from summons to topor, lasted the equivalent of 45 earth hours. Even the traditional time-keeping units the Bolians used were different, dividing their days into five standard cycles. Golot's body was used to sleeping for two cycles -- meaning that Bolians, if left to follow the natural rhythms of their world, would work and play for the equivalent of 27 hours and would sleep for 18 hours. Adjusting to a day that was a little under 2.5 of their cycles meant that they were often sleep-deprived during their work hours and wide-awake during their scheduled topor, or "sleep" time, as the humans called it.

Of course, once a cadet graduated and was assigned to a Starfleet vessel with the standard one-on/two-off shift rotation, the discipline thrust upon her by Academy class-schedules could be relaxed at the personnel officer's discretion. Respectful of cultural differences, Chakotay encouraged this sort of flexibility on Voyager, permitting a two/three schedule for Bolian crew members, which meant that they worked two shifts in a row and then went off duty for the subsequent three shifts. That schedule better fit Golot's natural rhythms, but it was off just enough to make her feel constantly off balance.

She sighed. She had once overheard a fellow crewmate, one of the ex-Maquis, complaining about the Federation as an imperial power, colonizing regions of space and exacting strict allegiance to Federation principles, which had themselves been drawn largely from terran principles. "Earth," he had said mockingly. "The Federation's so-called Sector 0-0-1. As if it were the center of the universe."

Despite her Starfleet sensibilities, there was a small part of the young Bolian that couldn't help agreeing with the former Maquis; except that it wasn't space that had been colonized but time. For Golot, the greatest example of earth's hegemony over the Federation was the 24-hour terran day that had been established as Federation Standard Time. Golot sighed again and stifled a yawn.

Just then, she saw Seven of Nine enter Engineering and join Lt. Torres at the Warp-drive console. That was something else the Bolian couldn't quite get used to: having a Borg on Voyager.

She wondered what the Borg and the chief engineer were still doing working. Beta shift had started almost six centicycles ago -- that is, more than a "half hour" ago. No doubt, they were working into second shifts to try resolving the problem with the wormhole they had just discovered, a chance to shorten their trip home.....except it was turning out to be another dead end.

The day before, the Borg and the chief engineer had had another fight. Only this time, Lt. Torres had said what was on everyone's mind: that the Borg could get away with anything now because she was the captain's paramour. She guessed there were some Starfleet principles, after all, that the captain didn't mind breaking. But of all the people the captain could have chosen to couple with on their long journey, this was by far the worst choice. A Borg! The Federation's number one enemy. The scourge of every technologically advanced race in the universe.

When Seven of Nine had been infected with the Borg vinculum virus and the personalities of her victims were surfacing, Golot had overheard Janeway casually telling Chakotay that she had just spent several hours trading jokes with a Bolian manicurist. "Seven is having a rough time," she had said. But didn't anybody bother to notice that if Seven was manifesting the personality of a Bolian manicurist, somewhere in her past she had assimilated that manicurist? What of that Bolian's "rough time"? And the Borg had also manifested personalities of Federation victims at Wolf 3-5-9, which meant that Seven of Nine had somehow been there during the slaughter. Golot's brother had also been there. "Lost in battle," the Federation dispatch had said. "Body not recovered. Presumed taken by the Borg." The idea made her skin crawl.

And Seven of Nine had been there. For all Golot knew, Seven herself had assimilated her brother. But now she was supposedly severed from the Collective and personally involved with Captain Janeway, so, of course, all her actions as a drone had to be forgiven!

Golot considered the entire affair a callous affront to the memory of her brother and the millions like him.

"Ensign Golot."

It was the Borg. Golot's blue skin tinged to green with anger, but she checked herself.

"Yes?"

"Lt. Torres has assigned you to assist me with these calculations. You will take the equations on this PADD and input vector coordinates I will be supplying to you shortly from Astrometrics. The captain has called for a senior staff meeting at 1800 hours. You must have the calculations completed no later than 1740 hours so that the lieutenant and I can review them before the meeting. Is that understood?"

Bristling at the imperious tone -- and at the imposition, yet again, of that infernal Federation time -- the young Bolian indulged her desire to mock the presumptuous Borg. "Yes, Captain," she replied pointedly. "I mean, Seven."

She tried to look innocent but grinned inside when the Borg flinched at her "mistake." She was grateful Seven was so clever. It meant that she'd be quick to pick up on even the subtlest insult.

Seven tried to ignore the misstatement. "Do you have any questions, Ensign?"

In her sleep-deprived state, Golot couldn't resist baiting the Borg a second time. "No, Captain....that is to say, Seven."

The Borg was hooked. "Ensign, is there some reason you're having trouble remembering that I am not the captain?"

"No. How about you? Do you ever have trouble remembering you're not the captain?"

Seven understood the insinuation and, taking a slow breath, considered how best to respond. Since there was no implied insult to Kathryn -- which had been Lt. Torres's mistake the previous day -- she did not entirely take offence, particularly given that she knew her own character and was satisfied that her behavior had not changed in the least.

"I assure you, Ensign Golot, I know exactly who I am," she responded in cool tones. "But I believe you forget yourself. Engaging in futile efforts to insult me when there is important work to be done is inefficient. I recommend you withhold your disparaging comments for when we are both off duty."

Golot smiled a little too triumphantly. "All I did was accidentally confuse you with the captain. I regret that you find the comparison 'insulting'."

The Borg flushed red. Whether from anger or embarrassment the young Bolian couldn't tell, but she did, nevertheless, feel a deep satisfaction at having thrown the Borg's words back in her face. The force of that verbal blow was apparently enough to turn Seven on her heel and chase her out of Engineering.

~~~~~~~

On a typical trek to the Astrometrics Lab, Seven of Nine would have begun considering her next assignment, already outlining the best way to proceed or perhaps conducting preliminary calculations in her head. She prided herself on making efficient use of her time, even the few minutes it took her to get from one location to the next. On this occasion, however, she couldn't seem to get her mind off the exchange she had just had with Ensign Golot.

"Deck 8," she called absently as the turbolift doors closed behind her.

The ensign had always been cool around the Borg but never openly challenging. Clearly, the changed nature of the captain's relationship with Seven had prompted this reaction. And perhaps Lt. Torres's outburst yesterday had also emboldened the young ensign.

Seven disembarked from the turbolift and began the familiar walk to Astrometrics. As she passed crew members, she received few polite nods and more than the usual cold stares. All eyes seemed to linger, to judge, to accuse. Had they always? At one time, she would have considered such appraisals irrelevant. Was she simply becoming more sensitive to the stares, the subtle innuendo, the criticisms, as she became more human?

Reaching Astrometrics, she entered quickly and was grateful when the doors finally closed behind her, shutting out Voyager and the crew and the stares. There were only two places left on the ship that provided a kind of sanctuary. This was one of them. The other was the captain's quarters. Even Cargo Bay 2 had ceased to offer comfort, partly because of its public nature but also because being there meant she was regenerating alone instead of lying next to Kathryn in her bed.

Seven approached the main console and activated the data transfer to Engineering so that Golot could begin the calculations. In the meantime, she used her command-crew authorization to call up personnel data on the neighboring display. She quickly accessed Golot's records. After just a few moments scanning the ensign's personal history, she discovered what she had been anticipating -- Federation records showing that a member of Golot's family had been taken by the Borg, and at Wolf 3-5-9 no less.

Seven shut her eyes against the despair that swept over her. She was feeling something she had felt before, but it was a sensation still relatively new to her. Compassion. A sense of deep sympathy and sorrow for someone else's pain.

She understood that it was painful to lose a loved one, but until Kathryn, that sense of loss had remained an abstraction to the ex-Borg. Now she could put a face to that kind of loss. And as she considered how she might feel losing Kathryn to the Borg, heavy tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. As it was, she had developed a profound hatred for the Borg Queen simply because she had threatened to assimilate Kathryn. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much more hatred she would harbor for the Borg if they ever actually destroyed the individual perfection that was Kathryn Janeway.

And here she was -- Seven of Nine, formerly Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01 -- a stark reminder, despite Kathryn Janeway's efforts to rehumanize her, of everything in the universe that signals death and destruction. What an insult it must seem to someone like Golot to have to witness her captain consorting with the enemy.....with a Borg!

"Computer, secure the Astrometrics Lab," Seven called, her voice faltering.

The computer twittered and then announced, "An encryption protocol has not been specified."

Seven swallowed back the irony. "Borg encryption code.....Theta-2-8-6."

When she was satisfied that no one could walk in on her unexpectedly, Seven slumped down to the deck and began to sob.