Bride of Arachnia

Prologue

"No, stop, no, stop, no," Seven of Nine droned.

Kathryn Janeway met the former Borg's placid gaze with a smirk. She had just finished locking the second shackle and pulled back to study the young woman. Seven's arms were trapped by two wrist restraints attached to the holodeck simulated wall on either side of her head. Even if it was only make-believe, this predicament should have elicited a little more distress in the Borg's tone.

"You could try to inject a little more feeling into it, couldn't you?"

"I am," Seven protested evenly. "What I feel is that this is a frivolous human endeavor. Furthermore, Kathryn," she added with a scrutinizing gaze, "you look ridiculous in that attire."

"Well, if you're going to insult me," she retorted sardonically, reaching up to adjust her Queen Arachnia wig, "I want you to go back to calling me 'Captain'!"

Seven quirked her metal brow. "Very well, Captain," she responded readily, which annoyed Janeway to no end.

She and Seven were running a location subroutine from Tom Paris's Captain Proton holo-serial. It was Chaotica's "Dungeon of Pain," which Janeway had been dismayed to find embedded in several episodes of the simulation. She tried to avoid wondering how precisely the libidinous young ensign used this part of the program, particularly when she noticed that the dungeon was cross-referenced to "slave girls" and "Chaotica's harem" in the datalogs. Nevertheless, she considered it a useful setting for her current enterprise with Seven: an acting lesson for the former Borg drone. (And there was a part of Kathryn Janeway that secretly loved playing the over-the-top Queen of the Spider People.)

"This is tactical training, Seven," Janeway explained after a moment.

"Elaborate."

"Tuvok thinks that, with your capabilities, you'd be a valuable asset on some of Voyager's undercover Away missions. I agree. But I can't have you gallivanting off on covert operations if you don't know even the basics of role-playing. Learning how to portray a 'damsel in distress' will be an important part of your repertoire."

The young woman raised her eyebrows in skepticism. "'Damsel in distress'," she said, her demeanor too superior to bother about inflecting the question.

"A woman in need of assistance," Janeway translated.

"I rarely require assistance."

Despite herself, Janeway smiled at the unbridled Borg certitude. While most people found it arrogant, she found it unaccountably attractive on this particular Borg.

"In fact, what I'm trying to teach you is how to be more self-sufficient."

"Explain."

"I'm trying to teach you how to use your own guile to get what you want so that you can rely on that rather than on your phaser or your companions, neither of which may be ready-to-hand at some crucial moment. Say you find yourself weaponless and alone and suddenly surrounded by three hulking Hirogen. They may be less guarded if you seem meek and defenseless, and that may be sufficient for you to strike a few decisive blows and flee unharmed."

"And this 'costume'?" she said with thinly veiled disgust, as she looked down at herself. "This is supposed to assist me in implementing these tactics?"

Wanting to make the Borg look more suitable for the part, Janeway had replicated a costume for her, too, and had insisted the young woman wear it. It was a sleeveless, gold-lamé dress with thick straps and a scooped bodice that fell in silky waves across the Borg's ample bosom, showing a considerable amount of cleavage at the top. The rest of it pressed itself smoothly around the young women's thin waist and full hips, terminating at mid-thigh. The garment was accented by a matching pair of gold, high-heeled shoes that Seven seemed quite adept with. Looking at Seven now, Janeway was secretly pleased that she had disabled the default monochrome setting for the Captain Proton program. The gold dress set against Seven's paler yellow skin and blonde hair made the leggy Borg look like a latinum statue. Priceless.

The garment was considerably less garish than the captain's Arachnia costume but certainly more pomp and circumstance than the Borg was used to. Seven's everyday wardrobe consisted of five similar biometric suits--albeit, differently colored and quite flattering, but all very durable and athletic. She also owned an equally efficient black jumper that she wore when she played Velocity. The costume, by contrast, revealed far more skin, restricted her movements, and seemed a good deal more fragile. This was all intentional on Janeway's part. She knew from experience that different styles of clothing invited correspondingly different forms of conduct. A flimsy dress, she hoped, would encourage a flimsier demeanor in the Borg.

"How does the dress make you feel, Seven?"

The Borg considered that. "Uncomfortable...."

"Yes?" Janeway prodded.

"Awkward....."

The captain smiled and waited patiently for more.

"Vulnerable," the Borg concluded with a note of astonishment, clearly having gotten the captain's point.

"Exactly," Janeway said triumphantly.

"And...." the Borg added, suddenly realizing she felt something more.

"And?" the captain encouraged curiously.

"A little.....pretty?"

Janeway's expression softened, a smile slowly spreading itself across her lips. "Yes, Seven. You are.....'pretty'," she affirmed, at once surprised and warmed by Seven's understatement.

Seven considered the captain's logic regarding these tactics and had to admit that it did have some merit. And even if part of her still thought Kathryn looked ridiculous and that what they were doing was frivolous, she knew she'd have to go along with it. Kathryn was giving her that 'fond' look, the one that made Seven melt. She adored bringing that expression to the captain's face, even as she knew that she had no resistance against it.

"Very well, Kathryn," she said softly, still mesmerized by the captain's expression. "I will attempt to portray the 'distressed damsel' called Constance Goodheart."

Janeway gave a quick nod, clearly pleased to have won the argument, and too classy to gloat about it. Then gathering herself up, she threw herself into the part once more.

"Ha! Your Captain Proton is no match for Arachnia! I destroyed Chaotica, and with you as bait, I'll pulverize Proton, as well!"

Having listened intently for her cue with an expression of concentration adorably creasing her brow, Seven gave a quick nod now in subtle recognition of 'her turn'. Then she inhaled gamely and formulated her 'distressed' response.

"No, stop, no, stop, no," she recited.

The captain repressed a weary sigh, considering for a moment that it was perhaps futile to try teaching an emotionless Borg how to emote. She was about to open her mouth to provide a bit of direction to Seven when the room--either the mock chamber or the actual holodeck, she wasn't quite sure which--suddenly jolted.

"Janeway to Bridge. Report."

"Chakotay here, Captain," came back the warm tones of the First Officer. "Everything's status quo. Why do you ask?"

"Seven and I are on Holodeck 2 running the Captain Proton program, and it just felt as though we were under attack."

Over the open comlink, Janeway heard Harry Kim calling Chakotay. "Commander, sensors show an unusual energy spike in Holodeck 2, and....." he paused a moment checking his readings. "Controls and safeties appear to be off-line."

"Did you hear that, Captain?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes," Janeway replied. "Would you instruct Engineering to initiate repairs immediately?"

"Torres here, Captain," the Chief Engineer called from her command post in the lower decks. "We're already on it," she assured efficiently, having been monitoring the conversation between the holodeck and the Bridge.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Sensor readings are coming in now, Captain."

There was a short pause over the comlink as Torres apparently looked over the readings that Janeway knew were being simultaneously transmitted to Kim at Ops and Chakotay at the Command station.

After a moment, Torres reported. "Several of the tanks of neometazene that we picked up on Barrellys 3 yesterday have blown, Captain. Cargo Bay 2 is flooded with gas, and a lot of it seeped into the nearby computer core before the containment fields went up. We're evacuating personnel now, but the damage to the core is affecting random computer systems throughout the ship, including holodeck controls."

"How bad is the damage?"

"There's no permanent damage to any vital functions, but the Borg regeneration alcoves are off-line. I can't be sure until we get in there and examine them more closely, but worst case: Seven won't be able to regenerate for a couple of days.......Guess she'll have to try something really radical, like sleeping," Torres added, unable to resist teasing the former drone.

"Your concern is unnecessary, Lieutenant," the Borg shot back evenly through the comlink. "I will adapt," she asserted, arms still dangling casually from the shackles.

Janeway had to stifle a smile, unwilling to encourage acrimonious exchanges between her senior officers but unable completely to resist being amused by their mutual sarcasm. "What about transporters?" she asked, returning the conversation to more urgent matters.

"No dice, Captain," Harry Kim responded. "The fluctuating antineutron particles in the computer core make it too risky for us to try transporting you and Seven out. The controls could malfunction in the middle of the transport. Fortunately, auxiliary life-support systems are unaffected, so you're in no environmental danger."

"Understood," Janeway responded. "How long before you can get us out of here, B'Elanna?"

"The actual repair work will take only about ten minutes, Captain, but it'll take several hours to clear the gas so that my team can get to the computer core and initiate those repairs."

"Safety first, of course, Lieutenant, but see if you can't shave an hour or two off that estimate. OK?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Are you still there, Commander?" she asked Chakotay.

"Yes, Captain?" he responded lightly, already anticipating what she was about to say.

"Looks like the ship is yours until further notice," she observed unnecessarily.

Chakotay couldn't help grin at how much the captain despised being separated from her beloved Bridge. "I'll make sure Voyager is clean and polished before returning the keys to you," he teased. "In the meantime, your Majesty," he added, trying to veil his concern, "I recommend you and Seven play nice....at least until those safeties are back online."

"We always 'play nice', Commander," Janeway dissembled. She willfully ignored the incident some two weeks prior when she and Seven had reported to Sickbay after their Velocity match sporting several lacerations, three bruised ribs, a sprained ankle, and a twisted Borg implant between them.

Chakotay politely ignored the omission, too, although he secretly still wondered how the two women had managed to mangle that implant. "Understood, Captain. Bridge out."

"Well," Janeway said after a moment, "at least it's just the two of us in here."

Seven frowned. "And this fact pleases you?"

"It does," Janeway responded absently. Then sensing that Seven was fishing for something more--although Janeway wasn't quite sure what--she elaborated. "It pleases me because we won't have to worry about some holo-character exceeding his programming in, shall we say, an inauspicious fashion."

"I see," Seven said.

Janeway sensed a note of disappointment in the young woman's tone and wondered what that was all about. Before she could ask, however, the two women were interrupted by an audible gasp of surprise.

"Arachnia, my beloved! You've arrived at last!"

Janeway stiffened at the all too familiar voice. Then she turned slowly towards its source and retched his name: "Chaotica!"