Sustenance

Part 1

"We're approaching the system, Commander!" Ensign Tom Paris called out urgently from the helm.

Chakotay turned anxiously to Ensign Harry Kim at Ops. "Can you run a sensor sweep yet?" he demanded, sounding more desperate than he intended.

"Not yet, Commander. We're still too far," Harry responded.

"Tom," Chakotay called, turning back to the helm, "I want you to keep punching it until you have to drop out of warp and then give me full impulse!"

"Aye, Sir."

Chakotay was proud of the crew, but he knew a number of them, with the possible exception of Tuvok and the other Vulcans onboard, were at the breaking point.  Everyone had put up a good front throughout the 25 days of their ordeal -- a crippled ship without its captain, the crew not knowing for certain whether Janeway was even alive -- and it seemed now, with their answers so close at hand, that the fine veneer of their enforced calm had vaporized and all that remained was raw emotion.

"Just hold on, Kathryn," Chakotay mumbled under his breath.

*****

Several weeks earlier, Voyager had come upon a desolate planet rich in mineral deposits that were desperately needed. Captain and crew had conducted several Away missions extracting the ore and conducting a few scientific studies. The planet was barren of vegetation and complex lifeforms. Its minimal water supplies, most of them undrinkable, did reveal a few microscopic organisms. Beyond that, it was little more than a massive rock formation with several respectable mountain ranges and a network of caves. Except for the mineral extraction, the only points of interest were these caves, whose walls and ceilings were adorned with the most intricately patterned and colorful crystalline formations that the crew of Voyager had ever seen.

"Magnificent!" the Captain had offered after several moments taking in the sight of the first cave she had explored on the planet.

She had spent the next week exploring other caverns and taking samples while her crew extracted the minerals.  It had been the lure of another of those magnificent caves that had separated the Captain from her ship and most of her crew, who had already beamed up preparing for departure.  At Janeway's request, Seven of Nine, Voyager's Astrometrics officer and resident Borg, had lagged behind to help the Captain collect a few more samples on the last of these expeditions.

Janeway thought the activity would do Seven some good both as a way of relaxing and also to learn to appreciate the natural beauty of the caves. And she also invited Seven because they generally enjoyed each other's company and liked engaging in recreational activities together.  At the moment, however, Janeway had to concede that her young friend was looking bored and uncomfortable.

"What's wrong," Janeway asked.

"I do not see the point of gathering these crystal samples."

"They're pretty to look at," the Captain had offered, believing that to be enough.

"But they serve no purpose."

"Their purpose is to be admired.....to please me. To satisfy my desire to gaze at their beauty, their color, their patterns."

"That is not a useful function; it is merely an indulgence," Seven had countered.

"Then indulge me," Janeway insisted, in mock exasperation. "Tap off a sample of that ruby crystal over there......and please try not to look so pained about it."

"I apologize for my expression, Captain, but Pru is bothering me."

"Pru?"

"The Doctor's nickname for the Portable Regeneration Unit I am wearing -- the P. R. U., or Pru.  I do not understand his sudden need to anthropomorphize technological devices, but I believe it is related to our recent encounter with the artificially intelligent warhead. I think that as Voyager's only sentient technology, the Doctor may be experiencing 'loneliness'."

"That's very good, Seven. It's very sympathetic of you," Janeway noted, genuinely pleased.

Seven smirked. "Why must you always be so condescending, Captain? Of course, I am 'sympathetic'. You severed me from the Borg hive mind where I shared my thoughts with millions of others. Loneliness is the first human emotion you taught me! And regardless of the Doctor's reasons, I find his new habit of naming everything in sight only marginally less annoying than his making me wear this device!"

"My, you are touchy today," Janeway teased, ignoring the young woman's cutting remarks.

Seven merely snorted, and Janeway couldn't help smile thinking this, too, was a new form of human expression for her.

The Doctor had recently developed the P.R.U. as a survival unit for Seven to use whenever an emergency and/or an Away mission kept her from regenerating in her Borg alcove.  The box-like unit -- four centimeters thick and about the size of Seven's lower back, where it strapped on and linked with her contact nodes -- was photo-powered, converting light beams into an energy source that Seven's implants could use to regenerate. While the energy supplied by the unit was weak in comparison to the full Borg alcove, the Doctor speculated that the device could sustain Seven for a period of about a month, even supplying her nutritional needs "in a pinch."

Seven considered that an apt phrase since the unit did "pinch." It pinched considerably, she noted, as she shifted once more against the hard object's weight and shape.

Janeway looked on sympathetically. "Why are you wearing it now?"

"The Doctor requires me to wear it for twenty-four hours to make certain the unit is properly calibrated to and synchronized with my systems."

"And how much longer do you have?"

"Twenty-two hours, thirty-three minutes, and fifteen seconds!"

"Oh, dear."

"Indeed."

"Well," Janeway offered hopefully, "maybe when we get back, you can talk the Doctor into adding some sort of padding to the thing." At that, she had granted Seven what she hoped was an assuring smile.

"Chakotay to Janeway!" It had been the Commander's urgent voice coming in over the comm badge.

"Janeway here," she answered, having automatically activated the comm link with a tap even before Chakotay's first word was quite out.

"Sensors show a massive spatial phenomenon approaching the ship. It appears to be a giant ion storm, Captain, and some particles have already disrupted the transporters."

"Understood. Don't waste time with us, just get Voyager out ahead of that storm."

"Captain, you have to take shelter right away! We're leaving now, but we've filled a torpedo casing with some supplies and have just fired it off near your coordinates.....It could be days, Kathryn."

"I know.  Just go! Janeway out."

That had been the last time the crew had heard the Captain's voice.

*****

"Talk to me, Harry," Chakotay demanded again, this time almost pleadingly.

"Still too far, Commander."

"But we are within viewing range now and dropping to full impulse," Paris reported.

Chakotay resumed his command chair, trying to calm himself. "On screen."

Instantly, the forward view-screen filled with the image of a rock-light satellite, unremarkable in every respect, except (hopefully) for two of its current inhabitants -- if they did, indeed, still inhabit. Chakotay studied the rock intensely now as if half-expecting to see the Captain herself waving back and saying, "Yoo-hoo. Over here. What the hell took you so long?" He smiled despite himself at the thought.  That nonchalance would be just like the Captain.

"Sensors scanning the surface now, Commander," Kim reported.

No one breathed for a beat.

"And?" Chakotay broke-in finally.

Kim smiled. "I see two life signs!......Weak. But definitely life signs."

An audible sigh of relief emanated from the Bridge crew accompanied by a nervous laugh or two.

"We are in communications range," Tuvok informed the commanding officer.

Chakotay looked almost giddy before continuing: "Voyager to Janeway. Captain, are you there?"

Silence.

"Voyager to Captain Janeway. Please respond!"

Another pause. And then, finally:  "Janeway here," came back the unmistakable voice, weak and hoarse, but still commanding.

The cheers that suddenly erupted on the Bridge forestalled Chakotay's next statement. After a moment, he continued: "Captain, it's great to hear your voice. We were all very worried about you. We're ready to beam you and Seven up, directly into Sickbay if necessary. What's your status?"

There was a pause: subtle, but enough to make a frown briefly shadow Chakotay's happy features. And then Janeway responded.

"We're in one piece, if that's what you mean?" Janeway hoped her tone was light but it was humorless. After a moment, she continued, forcing her voice to adopt its confident and decisive tones:  "Frankly, Chakotay, Seven and I have more immediate needs than Sickbay. We'd like to.....freshen up, if you catch my meaning?"

"Yes, Captain," Chakotay assured.

"Good. Then, please be a dear and beam us directly to my quarters, will you?"

That elicited the laughter that Kathryn had intended, which she hoped would in turn keep her Bridge crew from becoming too suspicious about her delaying the visit to Sickbay or, for that matter, beaming Seven, too, into her quarters.

"All right, Captain," Chakotay relented through his grin. "Stand by to be beamed to your cabin, but the Doctor and I will be there in about ten minutes to check in on you," he bargained.

"Make it twenty and you have a deal."

"Yes, Captain," Chakotay laughed. "Are you locked on, Harry?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Uh, just a second, Chakotay," Janeway called over the comm link. Then the Bridge crew could hear her instruct, "Seven, the samples and the PADD's." There was a pause, then, as the two women seemed to be gathering belongings they wanted to bring back. "All right, Voyager," Janeway continued, after a moment. "Two to beam up."

Part 2

Kathryn had shut her eyes in thanks when the transport began, and after she materialized, she opened them slowly, blinking back tears as she caught her first glimpse of her own familiar sanctuary. They were home.

Seven watched her carefully and put a sympathetic hand on the smaller woman's shoulder.

Kathryn smiled at her weakly. "Let's go get cleaned up," she said.

They dropped their packs by the Captain's work station and proceeded into her bath area where they silently disrobed, activated a hydro-shower -- Kathryn suddenly wanting the therapeutic and cleansing sensation of hot, pulsating water -- and then entered the stall. Together.

Normally, Seven would not have accompanied the Captain into her private chambers, but it was an intimacy the two of them now took for granted having been thrown together by circumstance and having shared many more intimacies as a result. Recalling an old Earth cliché now that she had once heard Kathryn use, Seven considered that they had, indeed, experienced "desperate times requiring desperate measures." And she knew that it was those measures, more than the physical aspects of their ordeal, that had etched that anxious look into the Captain's erstwhile noble features.  After a moment, Seven interrupted Kathryn's troubled thoughts.

"You are worried they will discover what we did," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yes," Kathryn admitted sadly.

Seven raised her chin decisively:  "We will not tell them."

Kathryn tried to smile back at Seven's Borg assertiveness and at her very human effort to cheer her, but she still felt hopeless. "I'm just not sure how well we can hide it," she began gently.  "I mean, it'll be obvious -- won't it? -- when the Doctor runs his medical scans."

Seven frowned. "What if we do not permit the scans?"

"That's a bit suspicious, don't you think? And completely against both Starfleet protocol and common sense. Of course the CMO has to check the medical conditions of the members of an Away team that have been stranded on a planet for weeks!"

"Then you will have to command the Doctor to maintain doctor-patient privilege."

"Chakotay will want some kind of report," Kathryn considered, more to herself.

"All the Doctor needs to tell him is that you are fit for duty. And you can simply order him to omit.....certain details from his medical logs, as we must do with respect to our mission logs."

Kathryn considered Seven's words as she absent-mindedly rinsed the soap off her body and hair.

*****

A short while later they were clean and freshly dressed, Kathryn foregoing the uniform she'd grown sick of wearing day and night, and opting, instead, for a pair of loose trousers and an oversized, button-down blouse -- although she noted, ruefully that the clothes were now, suddenly, much looser.  Seven had chosen her blue and grey suit -- resizing it to her own new, lankier dimensions -- and was just beginning to arrange her hair in its usual twist when Kathryn came up behind her and gently put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Seven, you realize you're probably going to have to regenerate for several days now to recover, don't you?" she began.

"Yes?" Seven asked, looking at Kathryn through the mirror.

"Well, the only contact I'll be able to have with you will be watching you in Cargo Bay 2, while you regenerate."

Warmth and affection washed over Seven's features as she understood Kathryn's meaning. "You wish me to leave my hair down," she said softly.

"Would you mind?"

Seven simply returned the look as she let the blonde bundle fall loose again, picked up Kathryn's brush, and swiped a few quick strokes through her hair. When she was done, she turned so that Kathryn could inspect the results directly. "Sufficient?"

Kathryn smiled.

"Have you done that a lot, Kathryn?"

"What?"

"Watched me while I regenerate?"

Kathryn's lips quirked. "Once or twice," she underestimated. And then sadly, she added, "But I think I'll be doing that a lot more in the coming week."

Seven reached out to pull Kathryn into a comforting embrace, but her motion was interrupted by the sound of the door chime. As she dropped her arms abruptly, she noticed Kathryn's face instantly awash with worry again.

Kathryn turned and walked out to the living area, with Seven trailing behind and stopping a few meters just past the bedroom door.  "Come," Kathryn called out, continuing her walk across the living area until she reached the replicator. "Coffee, black," she ordered.

Chakotay and the Doctor entered the Captain's quarters and visibly flinched when they caught sight of the two painfully thin women.

"Gentlemen," Kathryn greeted over her cup of coffee. Then, after an uncomfortable moment, she offered, "I know what you're thinking, and I promise that Seven and I will be eating something shortly.  But if it's all the same to you, I'd like to get this over with so that she and I can eat in private." Then, as an almost confessional afterthought, she looked past them and muttered slightly to herself, "Hunger is not an experience easily shared."

Both men frowned uncertainly, and then the Doctor pulled up his arm to begin a scan of Seven.

"Doctor!" Kathryn called out sharply.  And then lighting on a less suspicious tack, she suggested, "Perhaps you and Seven could use my bedroom so that I might have a word with Commander Chakotay? Just send her out when you're ready for me."

"Of course, Captain," he nodded.  "And, Captain?" he added gently. "If that's coffee, could you go a little easy on it until you get something more substantial in your stomach?"

Having just started to take another sip, Kathryn glanced down at the mug and back up at the Doctor before bringing the mug away from her lips and nodding in agreement. She turned to the replicator now and replaced the coffee with an apple juice, surreptitiously glancing at Chakotay over her shoulder.

The ruse seemed to work. As soon as Seven and the Doctor were out of the room, Chakotay let down his own command mask and adopted the warmer tones of friendship and trust when he and Kathryn spoke in private. Kathryn felt a little guilty pretending that she had wanted to be alone with him, but she had needed desperately to avoid the Doctor blurting out the results of his scans in Chakotay's presence.

"Kathryn, you look......" he interrupted himself, suddenly unable to admit to his friend how horrible she looked.

Kathryn smiled placing a calming hand on his chest and admitting, "It was like hell, Chakotay. But.....we'll be all right now. The hardest part was not knowing if you'd been able to get the ship to safety."

"It was a close call. We tried outrunning the storm, but it was coming on fast. All we could do was reinforce shields and let it hit. When that happened, we got the ride of our lives. The damn thing jettisoned us almost fifty light years away."

"Injuries?" Kathryn interjected.

"Several. Two of them serious but thankfully no fatalities -- unless plasma conduits count. We had to repair all kinds of structural and warp core damage before we could make tracks back here to rescue you and Seven." He paused, shaking his head sadly and looking at her frail body again. "I'm sorry, Kathryn.  We worked non-stop, and it still took so much longer than we wanted it to......We should have double stocked the supplies we sent down."

Kathryn seemed to flinch at that last comment, and then her expression froze, unreadable.

Chakotay frowned and was about to inquire when the sound of Kathryn's bedroom door caught his attention. He turned to see Seven walking towards them.

"The Doctor is ready for you now, Captain."

Kathryn seemed to steel herself before she nodded and began moving towards the bedroom, and again Chakotay frowned. He also noticed that when the two women passed each other, Kathryn reached out to squeeze Seven's arm, as if in a gesture of support, and mumbled something to her.  But when Seven nodded in response, there was something too abrupt and businesslike about it.  And then he guessed that Kathryn wasn't asking if Seven was all right; she was giving the Borg instructions of some kind, and that idea unaccountably unnerved the Commander as he watched the Captain retreat into her bedroom.

When she had left, he turned to Seven. "Well, did you get a clean bill of health?" he asked curiously but trying to seem nonchalant.

Seven understood his meaning, but she had also caught on that Chakotay was beginning to worry about Kathryn's behavior. So to distract him, she quirked a brow and became deliberately obtuse in her quintessentially Borg fashion. "I was not served with any kind of 'bill', Commander: 'clean' or otherwise. Please explain."

Chakotay sighed. "It's just an expression, Seven. All I was asking was what the Doctor had concluded about your health."

"He concluded what I expected him to conclude: I am undernourished, will need to consume some nutritional supplements immediately, and then I must return to Cargo Bay 2 and regenerate for a week.  I regret that my condition will continue complicating your personnel assignments for Astrometrics.  I had hoped to be able to return to active duty more quickly."

"It isn't a problem, Seven," he said, not caring at all about scheduling at the moment and suddenly wanting more information about their ordeal on the planet. "So," he began inquisitively, "I guess your portable unit held up?"

"Yes, Commander. We were quite fortunate to have it."

"We?" he asked.

Seven cocked her head and after a moment responded.  "The Captain and I could rely only on each other for our mutual survival, so naturally my continued well-being, with the aid of the regeneration device, allowed me to remain functional and assist the Captain in her own efforts to survive." And then, to drive the point home, she added, "We benefitted from the unit because it enabled me to continue performing my duty of protecting the Captain's welfare."

Chakotay seemed to accept the answer, but he was still frowning a bit when Kathryn came back from the bedroom. The Doctor trailed behind, looking somber and concerned for a moment, but he seemed to shake the mood off when he caught Chakotay's inspection.

"Well, Doctor?" Chakotay asked.

"Nothing to report aside from the obvious, Commander. They need food, drink, and rest. Seven needs to regenerate for a week, and I've advised the Captain to remain off duty for at least that long herself, until her body recovers a bit."

"So, Chakotay," Kathryn began with a smile, "would you mind holding onto those reins for just a little longer. The Doctor's right. I'm not feeling quite myself yet and could use the rest."

That mild admission of vulnerability should have been enough to tip the Commander off that something was definitely wrong, but he allowed her soft tones of friendship to lull his suspicions.  "Take as long as you need, Kathryn," he said with a warm smile. "Doctor?" he called, indicating that it was time for them to go.

"Thank you, Chakotay," Kathryn said sincerely. "And thank you, too, Doctor."

*****

What Chakotay did not know was that Kathryn had carefully instructed the Doctor regarding the hologram's required course of action, and she had made it almost threateningly clear that he was not to divert from this course.

First, he was to remain utterly discreet about the results of his scans, neither disclosing nor recording his findings. Second, he was to await the two women in Sickbay where they had arranged to meet in approximately an hour, after Janeway and Seven had eaten something. At that time, he would apply the necessary treatment to remove all physiological traces of how the two women had managed their survival.

"And then," the Captain had continued in her lowest, most menacing register, he was to "forget about the whole thing."

The Doctor had visibly flinched at the stark implication, and he was certain the Captain meant it: if he did not comply, she would erase his memories of the event, as she had done once before when the memory of an impossible medical decision the hologram had been forced to make had caused the equivalent of an emotional breakdown in his programming.

Seven had been occupied with Chakotay when the Doctor and the Captain had had this discussion, but as she watched Kathryn now, brushing her fingertips pensively over the controls on the medical console in Sickbay, the young woman could tell what her captain was thinking. And when the Doctor retreated into his office to prepare their hypos, Seven saw her chance to register her objection: "Kathryn," she called in a low voice, "I know what you are planning, and......I am asking that you reconsider.......I am asking that you trust the Doctor.....please."

Kathryn went to where Seven was sitting on the end of one of the biobeds and returned the young woman's imploring gaze with one of her own.  "I haven't come to any decisions yet, Seven, and I know how you feel about this. But it isn't about trusting the Doctor. Chakotay seemed suspicious, and he may press the point, and I just don't know if the Doctor would be able to resist saying something if Chakotay commanded him to report his findings."

"Then we should simply prepare for that contingency."

Kathryn misunderstood Seven's meaning and began running with the idea she thought the young woman was suggesting: "You mean like a conditional program. A covert subroutine in the Doctor's programming that could erase these memories only if and when they are about to be revealed.  Can you do that?"

"Yes, but -- "

"But you need a trigger," Kathryn interrupted, again misunderstanding.

Seven relented, deciding to let the conversation run its course in the hopes that Kathryn would see the absurdity of it. "I could use the data transmission sequence," she offered, knowing it would not come to that. "I believe I can design the subroutine to initiate if and when the program accesses the data of these events and tags them for transmission to the Doctor's vocal subroutines."

"So whether he's starting to tell Chakotay what happened or starting to record the information in a medical report to give to Chakotay later, he'd forget about all this immediately.  Is that right?"

"Yes. The memories would be wiped out the instant the Doctor begins to.....betray our secret." Seven intentionally exaggerated the words to convey a too-conspiratorial tone, and that began to do the trick.

"Listen to us. Secrets. Betrayals," Kathryn noted wearily.  Then resting her head on her co-conspirator's shoulder, she admitted, "It's all getting to be a bit much, Darling."

Seven took advantage of the opening and tried again gently:  "There are other alternatives."

Kathryn looked up at the young woman and then immediately averted her eyes.  "I can't," she said simply. Then she felt a warm hand on her chin, drawing her gaze up to connect once again with the loving blue of Seven's eyes.

"I understand that you do not want anyone to find out what we did."

"So you're okay with this?"

"No. The Doctor is sentient, and he is my friend.  I do not wish to assist you in wiping out part of who he is."

"Then why did you suggest the deletion subroutine?"

"I did not suggest it; you misunderstood me." Seven took Kathryn's hand in her own and spoke to her in gentle tones, trying to bring the Captain back to herself. "Kathryn," she began, "I believe you are somewhat delirious from your malnourishment.  You are not reasoning as you normally would. It is in your nature to alter the Doctor's program for his sake, as you did once; but it is not in your nature to take such extreme measures for your sake."

Kathryn felt the truth of it in her weary mind and rubbed her eyes against her rising sense of shame. "Thank you," she managed.

"I understand this is difficult for you. I will help you."

Just then the Doctor returned carrying a tray full of various hyposprays. "Well, here we are. Sorry it took so long, but since your systems are so depleted, I had several more nutritional supplements to prepare in addition to the boosters to help get your digestive systems functioning normally again. And, of course, the resequencing to undo your little solution."

"Doctor," Seven began, "in your medical opinion, did our solution harm the Captain in any way?"

"Hardly. It kept her alive! Well, that and the portable unit I designed for you," he added proudly.

"What about side-effects, Doctor?" Seven continued.  "Could the Captain's physical and mental faculties become impaired in any way by our actions?"

"No, not at all," he asserted with surprise. "I can't even think why the issue would come up!"

"Very well. Then you'd have no reason to report any of this to Commander Chakotay or anyone else on Voyager, correct?"

"I've already given my word that I wouldn't," he responded, feeling a little defensive.

"Doctor," Kathryn finally chimed in, "Seven is asking you these questions because I'm concerned that you might feel compelled to give the Commander a full report if he orders you to."

"I understand, Captain," he said solemnly. "And I promise you, my ethical subroutines would not permit me to betray doctor-patient confidences even in response to a direct order except under the circumstances that Seven's questions were hinting at: if you were suffering from a condition that impaired your ability to command. And that simply isn't the case here."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"However," he added quickly, beginning to administer the hyposprays to the two women.

"Yes," Kathryn responded cautiously.

"I think you are a bit more.....anxious than usual, Captain.....which is certainly to be expected. But I think I should adjust your course of treatment nonetheless."

"How do you mean?"

"Clearly, you and Seven have.....bonded......emotionally, I mean. I think a separation your first night back on Voyager would be unnecessarily difficult for you, and I really see no harm to Seven if she delays her long regeneration cycle a few hours more......provided you're in your alcove by 0600 tomorrow, Seven," he cautioned.

The two women eyed each other a moment, an almost giddy sort of relief beginning to play on their faces.

"Are you sure there's no danger to Seven in waiting," Kathryn asked hopefully.

"None at all, Captain," he smiled. "Just don't......over-exert yourselves."

*****

Within an hour, the two women were happily tangled together in the cozy center of Kathryn's bed. And just before their weariness overcame them, Seven nuzzled Kathryn's hair and muttered inquisitively, "Are you not glad now that you refrained from tampering with the Doctor's memory matrix?"

"Yes," Kathryn mumbled back drowsily, "he's a nice holoprogram."

Seven smiled and kissed Kathryn's temple. Then the two of them contentedly drifted off to sleep.

Part 3

Seven and Kathryn had awoken in time to install the young woman in Cargo Bay 2 by 0600 the following morning, Kathryn bidding her fond dreams and granting her an even fonder kiss before the Borg initiated the lengthy regeneration cycle.  That had been six days ago. And as Kathryn watched the young woman now, she considered (not for the first time) interrupting the cycle just so she could hear Seven's voice again. Kathryn missed the young woman -- craved talking with her, touching her, making love to her.  And her need for Seven had become more acute as the secret they shared distanced Kathryn from the rest of her crew.  Concerned that her expression had become too readable, Kathryn had retreated more and more. By about the end of the third day, she spent all of her time alone either in her own quarters or else watching Seven for long hours in Cargo Bay 2, as she was now.

Everyone had sensed the rift even before the Captain's actual retreat. It had begun as a kind of distant look in her eyes. And perhaps that was the most perplexing aspect of her behavior: that for the first time anyone could ever remember, the formidable, proud, and even arrogant Captain Janeway could not look her own crew members in the eye.

Chakotay had noticed the Captain's evasive gaze more than the others.  He considered that Kathryn had been acting oddly since the first day they were rescued, but he had, nevertheless, kept trying to convince himself that she simply needed time to readjust to life back on Voyager, especially after the trauma of being stranded for so long and, apparently, starving......perhaps very nearly to death.

Except that they shouldn't have been starving. He had rechecked the emergency log entries recently, and the manifest clearly indicated that the crew had managed to pack enough rations to last the two women for about eight weeks -- even longer, in their case, since Seven wouldn't have needed much while she was using the P.R.U. Try as he might, he couldn't explain this away, nor could he continue rationalizing Kathryn's peculiar, almost deceitful behavior. Her report of their ordeal was considerably shorter and less detailed than it should have been, and it was full of gaps, particularly regarding the supplies.

But if they hadn't found the supplies, as Chakotay had now begun to suspect, how had Kathryn survived? Only Seven would have made it without food since she had the protection of the regen unit. And Seven had said "We"! She had said that both she and Kathryn had been lucky to have the unit, and then she had tried to cover up the admission with some lame logic about her well-being contributing to the Captain's well-being. The only way Kathryn could have benefitted from the unit was if she had used it herself to stay alive, and the only way she could have used it.......

Chakotay's Maquis instincts detected subterfuge, and this deeply offended his sensibilities as -- he thought -- Kathryn's friend. The best response, he decided, was to approach the matter as First Officer.  He had checked the ship's computer to make certain the Captain wasn't in Sickbay and was unsurprised to discover she was once again in Cargo Bay 2.  He allowed that their ordeal had thrown Kathryn and Seven even closer together, but the bond between them seemed almost obsessively close now, even secretive. He needed, finally, to know their secret.  He would use his command rank to get the Doctor to give him the un-abridged results of his medical scans, since Chakotay was now convinced that Kathryn had ordered the Doctor to withhold information about how they had survived. Whatever it took, he would get that information. He needed to find out if they had done something that could ultimately endanger Voyager. It was his duty to find out.

*****

The following morning, Kathryn found herself again in Cargo Bay 2 at several minutes before 0600 hours, the time Seven was scheduled to come out of her long regeneration cycle. Kathryn was almost desperate with anticipation. She felt that once Seven was back with her, everything would return to normal. She had even put on her Starfleet uniform, intending to retake command of the ship again when Alpha shift started. It was high time. And all she wanted now was a quiet breakfast with Seven and a warm embrace from her.....to start off her day.....to start her own life anew.

"Regeneration cycle complete," came the feminine voice of the computer.

Seven stepped out of her alcove and blinked once before noticing the smaller woman smiling up at her. She smiled back and then quirked a brow. "That is precisely where you were when I began the cycle.  Have you been there the whole time, Kathryn?" she quipped.

"Yes," Kathryn purred back through her grin, "the whole time, my love."

Seven stepped down off the dais and pulled Kathryn into a warm embrace. "You did not.....recover," she observed acutely.

"No," Kathryn admitted. "Not the way you mean. But I did rest. Actually, I barely left my quarters," she said, trying to sound proud of it as if staying off-duty was what she had needed to accomplish.

Seven was not fooled. "You did not engage in any social activities with the crew?"

Kathryn turned away. Then after a moment, she turned back. "I will now that you're back beside me. Let's go have some breakfast. Okay?"

"In the messhall?" Seven queried, pressing the issue.

"Uhm.....No.  Not yet. In my quarters today. In the messhall tomorrow."

Seven softened, understanding that Kathryn needed to set her own pace. "Very well."

*****

By 1100 hours, Kathryn was back in her Ready Room, starting to allow the routine of her duties to wash away the weeks of feeling cast adrift and the days of.....of trying to forget.

In fact, she had almost enjoyed the early-morning senior staff meeting -- especially with Seven there and everyone welcoming her back -- but Chakotay's silent brooding had made it impossible for her actually to enjoy herself. She knew he sat out there on the Bridge now, brooding still; but she was acutely aware of how much she needed not to know what he was thinking.

Anyway, she thought, Seven was in her company at the moment, delivering an Astrometrics report. And as the lovely young woman droned on in her delightfully uninflected Borg diction, Kathryn permitted herself the indulgence of clasping her hands behind her head, lounging back in her desk chair, and surveying her crew member from the glint of the young woman's implanted left brow to the slight bulge of her irresistible inner thighs -- the limit of Kathryn's field of vision from behind the desk (but hardly the limit of her imagination, she smirked).

"What?" Seven asked after a moment, interrupting her own report.

"What, what?" Kathryn rejoined perplexed.

"You are grinning at me, Captain."

"Oh.....sorry." But both women knew that she wasn't. And they smiled openly at each other for another while until the incongruous chortle of the door disrupted their silent conversation.

"Come," Kathryn called out, still smiling. Her expression froze, however, when she saw Chakotay enter.

He tried to smile back. "Seven," he greeted insincerely. "Captain, here are the personnel updates you requested."

"Thank you," she said, trying to sound businesslike and hoping that was the end of it.

It wasn't.

Chakotay lingered a while, absently rubbing his tattoed brow as he studied the carpet. Then he looked at the two women and continued, trying to sound casual: "I'm curious, Captain. The morning after we rescued you, while you were having breakfast with me in the mess, you joked that you wouldn't have been able to survive much longer without coffee. Weren't you able to make some with the drinking water you found and the couple of kilos of dehydrated coffee we were able to pack away for you at the last minute in the supplies we sent down?"

Kathryn was stymied for a moment. She sensed she was being tested but wasn't certain how she should answer. She decided there wouldn't have been time nor any possible justification for adding something so frivolous as coffee to the emergency supplies they sent down.

Once resolved, she tried to adopt a surprised tone and responded, "There wasn't any coffee among the supplies you sent us, Chakotay."

His lips quirked up a bit -- restrained, but still seeming a bit too pleased with himself, Kathryn thought -- and then he admitted: "You're right. That was a bad bluff. But you still took a little too long to answer." Then taking a deep breath, he began, more seriously, "You haven't been honest with me since the day we rescued you, Kathryn. And I'm worried about what that means.....about what you and Seven did down there and about possible risks to this crew as a result of your actions."

Kathryn's almost fearful expression became stony at that last comment, and in captainly tones she commanded, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Chakotay eyed the two women before answering. "I can't say for sure, Kathryn, but your evasiveness every time I've brought up the supplies, your failure to mention anything specific about them in your report, and your hesitation just now lead me to think that you were never able to recover the provisions we sent down to you. Which means that.....you should be dead right now, Kathryn. Seven could have survived. She had the regeneration unit. But you." He took a breath. "Seven let it slip that you both used the unit."

"No," Seven broke in. "What I said, explicitly, Commander, is that the Captain and I both benefitted from my having and being able to use the unit."

"Yes, I know: because it kept you healthy enough to 'assist the Captain', to 'protect her welfare'.  Sorry, Seven.  That's just not enough of an explanation. But I'll tell you what is." He paused, carefully studying both women before declaring his suspicions. "I think once you ran out of the minimal rations you had in your personal packs, you clearly had no choice, Kathryn. You needed to use Seven's regeneration unit to survive, and the only way you could have done that is if......if Seven assimilated you."

"That is not what happened, Commander," Seven insisted. She looked at Janeway for support, but the Captain remained silent, waiting for Chakotay to finish, and she felt that he wasn't.

"I also suspect you tampered with the Doctor's program."

"We did not!" Seven asserted indignantly.

Chakotay spoke over her objection. "I ordered him repeatedly to tell me about your scans, but he seemed to get stuck in some kind of feedback loop about 'doctor-patient privilege'.  Very clever programming.  It has all the earmarks of Borg ingenuity. Correct, Seven?"

"No!"

"Stop attacking her, Chakotay!" Janeway finally broke in.

"Kathryn, I understand why she did what she did. It was the only way you could have survived! But you need to be honest with me! We need to figure out what this will mean.....for Seven's possible control over you, for your future susceptibility to the Borg hive mind. This could put Voyager at risk, Kathryn! You know that!"

"I did not assimilate Captain Janeway," Seven repeated anxiously.  "I.....I....." She suddenly bit back her words and looked at Kathryn wide-eyed and slightly embarrassed to have been so close to revealing more.

"What?" Chakotay demanded. Then turning to Kathryn, more urgently, "What did Seven do to you, Kathryn?! Please, tell me!"

Kathryn stiffened and raised her chin a bit more, demanding that her body evince the dignity that she felt certain her words were about to betray.  Then in her deep, steady command voice, she finally answered Chakotay's question.

"She adjusted her nanoprobes so that her body would produce what I needed to survive. And then.....she fed me......in the most natural way a woman has for feeding another human being."

*****

Chakotay had stared back at Kathryn a long while, mouth agape as the words registered and the truth sank in. Before he could say anything more, however, Kathryn had silently risen from her chair and left, retreating once more to the solitude of her cabin.  Chakotay now looked at Seven, trying to comprehend what he had heard.

"How?"

Seven's head was downcast, eyes brimming with tears. "As she said, I reprogrammed my nanoprobes to induce lactation."

"And how did she......did she......"

"She did what was necessary to survive, Commander," Seven said simply. "The details are irrelevant."

Chakotay licked his dry lips and considered aloud, "I've never seen her run out of her own Ready Room like that."

Seven took a breath. "What will you do now?" she asked, trying to keep the anxiety from her voice.

Chakotay picked up on her meaning and flinched.  "I understand that I need to keep this quiet, Seven.  Kathryn and I have been friends a long time.  She knows she can trust me. She knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

"You have just forced her to admit something she clearly did not want you to hear," the Borg noted with acute precision. "Perhaps she knows differently now."

The words fell heavily on Chakotay, but he understood that the mantle of command sometimes forced one's duty to ship and crew to override one's duty to a friend. And he was certain Kathryn understood that, even if Seven didn't.  "I'm sorry, Seven, but I had to make certain the ship wasn't in danger from whatever might have happened down there."

"I understand," Seven rejoined. "It is I you do not trust. My Borg technology. Perhaps in time, however, you will understand. Perhaps in time you will learn to trust what I feel for Kathryn."

Seven didn't explain further. She didn't have to. Chakotay already guessed her meaning from the heartfelt tone with which she inflected Kathryn's name, with too much emotion to be uttered in anything more than a whisper.