Bride of Arachnia

Act IV

As a former Borg--efficient, precise, driven by logic, and striving always for perfection--Seven of Nine was typically the epitome of calm reserve in a crisis situation, second only to Tuvok and the other Vulcans on Voyager. And had she remained calm, Seven might have quickly concluded that if the holodeck controls were fixed, than the computer core was clear of gas, and hence the transporters operational again, which meant, finally, that she could have called for an emergency beam-out to transport her and the naked captain directly to the captain's quarters without any of the crew becoming any the wiser as to the captain and Seven's present circumstances.

Alternatively, Seven could have used the apparently operational holodeck controls herself to call for a lock-out and could have even put one of her exceptional Borg encryption codes on it to stymie Lt. Torres's efforts to by-pass the lock, thereby buying herself some extra time.

Barring all that, Seven could have, as a last resort, simply initiated a comlink with whoever was standing just outside the holodeck and requested the individual or individuals to wait while an important portion of the simulation she and the captain were running played itself out.

Unfortunately, nothing in her personal experience or in the vast storehouse of assimilated knowledge she possessed had prepared Seven of Nine for the situation she suddenly found herself in--wearing a harem costume and lying on a bed of satin and silk with her hand stuck halfway up the naked body of her commanding officer. Consequently, when the Borg heard the holodeck controls, she panicked during those precious moments when she should have been devising a workable solution to her problem. And then, when there was no more time left because whoever was outside the holodeck was starting to enter, Seven grabbed the nearest satin sheet and pulled it completely over herself and the captain.

Of course, the sheet had bellowed when Seven pulled it over, and it was still settling itself in telltale waves when B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim stepped into Chaotica's Dungeon of Pain.

"Looks like there was a fight in here," B'Elanna observed. "Captain? Seven?"

Harry pointed to the moving covers on the bed and whispered to B'Elanna: "I think there's someone over there."

B'Elanna picked up a nearby ray gun and gingerly approached the bed. Then she poked the muzzle into the satiny mound.

"Ouch!"

"Is that you, Seven?"

"Yes, Lt. Torres. Do not remove the sheet!" Seven said quickly.

"Uhm, what are you doing?"

"I......I am......it is part of the simulation.....an acting lesson."

"What are you supposed to be?" Harry threw in.

"Is that Ensign Kim?"

"Yes," Torres answered.

"Who else is with you?" Seven asked, alarm still lacing her voice.

"No one," B'Elanna replied impatiently. "Look, Seven, this is ridiculous. Would you come out from under there?"

"I.....cannot."

"Why not?"

"It would interfere with the acting lesson," Seven responded unconvincingly.

"All right," B'Elanna humored. "What's this lesson all about?"

"I cannot tell you......It is.....it is tactical training in covert operations."

"I see," B'Elanna replied testily. "And the captain?"

"She.....she is also 'undercover'."

"Fine," B'Elanna replied. She still didn't really understand where that meant the captain was, but she was tired of Seven's evasiveness.

Harry just looked at B'Elanna and shrugged.

"So are we to understand that you and the captain want to stay in the holodeck a little longer?" B'Elanna continued sarcastically.

Seven considered that. What she really wanted was the privacy of Kathryn's quarters. On the other hand, the ridiculous story she had started to spin suggested that they intended to play the simulation out. Seven felt miserable. She had tried to role-play her way out of the situation and had wound up backing herself into a corner. Of course, using her cunning would require her to actually be cunning, and she had to admit that she seemed to be lacking that particular skill at the moment. She simply didn't know what to say.

In the silent void that ensued while Seven tried to think of a response, Kathryn awoke.

"Seven," she breathed ardently, "oh, Darling, you were wonderful!" She chuckled, "But you can pull your hand out now, love. I'm a little sore....Uh, no dear, don't make a fist," she instructed calmly. "It's not a piñata....."

Underneath the sheet, Seven complied, pulling out gently and flexing her fingers.

"Mmm, come up here so I can hold you," Kathryn cooed.

Seven crawled up Kathryn's body to curl up lovingly in her arms. She was so enormously relieved to have her hand finally free that she almost forgot about Torres and Kim.

The two officers, in the meantime, gaped in pained disbelief. At some point, Torres's hand instinctively shot up to brace Ensign Kim, who teetered precariously on the verge of a dead faint. They continued staring at the animated sheet and listened in dismay at the endless stream of smacking noises coming from it.

"Uh, Kathryn?" Seven began, in-between the kisses she kept accepting from Kathryn, "the holodeck controls have been fixed."

"That's wonderful [kiss, kiss]. We can go back to my cabin, now [kiss]."

"Yes, but [kiss], Kathryn? Mmmm....[kiss....gasp] Oh, Kathryn!"

A rich throaty laugh came from underneath the sheet. Then more smacking sounds. And finally: "Was there something you needed to tell me, Darling? [kiss]"

"Yes [kiss]. Something about Lt. Torres [kiss, moan].....and Ensign Kim [kiss, kiss]."

"Mmm? [kiss]"

"They fixed the--....ohhhh--holodeck......a-and [kiss]....uh, requested entrance."

There was a gasp and then......silence.

Torres and Kim stood frozen to their spots, still gaping at the now stationary and deadly quiet mound of satin. Then they saw a hand with long, elegant fingers reach over the edge of the sheet and pull down on it tentatively to reveal rumpled auburn hair, a creased forehead, raised eyebrows, and finally a pair of blue-grey eyes. The sheet stopped at the bridge of the nose as the eyes took in the situation. Then the beady eyes disappeared again beneath the satin. In the next moment, the sheet became animated again with movement as the sound of sharp whispers bantering back and forth emanated from underneath. The hisses rose in intensity and finally culminated with Seven of Nine's clearly blurted, "Borg do not panic!"

Then the officers heard a heavy sigh as the captain at last popped her head out from under the sheet. She took a moment to run her hand expertly through her hair in three efficient strokes, combing back several unruly strands. As she turned to address her officers, leaning on her elbow to prop herself, they saw the captain's bare shoulders and instantly guessed she was out of uniform, so to speak. The command mask on the face that stared them down seemed deeply incongruous with the tableau, especially given the way the captain was demurely holding the satin sheet to obviously bare breasts. But it was commanding enough that Torres and Kim felt their own spines instinctively petrify to attention.

"Well," the captain began calmly, "this is certainly awkward." Her eyes shifted appraisingly between her two officers. "I suppose you're expecting a tirade of some sort," she proceeded in low, deliberate tones. "With me begging and ordering and even threatening the two of you not to divulge any of what you've just seen and heard." She sighed. "But we're all adults, here. Right?" she asked rhetorically. "I'm sure I don't need to impress upon you the importance of respecting my privacy. Yes? Obviously, there's no need for a long, drawn-out lecture. Correct? Especially when two short words would suffice for me to make my point." She paused for effect and then enunciated: "Air lock."

Torres and Kim got the point. "Yes, captain," they muttered simultaneously.

Kathryn smiled sweetly, which of course belied the threat she had just made. Then in soft friendly tones, she requested, "Harry, be a dear and hand me Seven's dress, will you?" She reached over and grabbed her own dress, which had fallen nearby, then sat upright again and instantly tapped a punitive hand at the mound rustling underneath the sheet: "Stop that," she commanded the mound. "Thank you, Harry," she said to the ensign, accepting the tattered gold garment. Then with both dresses--and the attached combadges--in hand, she called for an intra-ship transport. "Computer, two to beam directly to the captain's quarters."

"Good night," she said in polite, saccharin tones to the two pale officers. Then the transport sparkles filled her eyes. Before she had completely dematerialized, however, she felt her stomach lurch as she distinctly heard Ensign Kim asking, "B'Elanna, what's a piñata?"

Kathryn sighed into momentary oblivion.