Always, for the first time

Dueling Paths

"Falikal." Vrethliniel positioned himself as he raised his saber in challenge and started to advance on Seven.

Seven felt foolish as he advanced. The dueling master moved so smoothly, so easily. Seven was intensely conscious of her own movements. The precision of the required steps was complicated: toe up, then heel, heel down followed by toe. She was so involved in her foot movements she almost missed Vrethliniel's first feint.

"Seven, focus your attention on your opponent."

Seven kept her eyes on Vrethliniel, consciously trying to emulate the grace with which the Andorian held himself. She had become so used to feeling physically superior to everyone around her that the dueling master's polished movements made her feel especially clumsy.

"By paying close attention to your opponent’s movements, you can anticipate their attack." Vrethliniel lunged and Seven's concentration split between her own footwork and the hologram’s attack.

They moved back and forth across the tight Andorian dueling circle, at a steady even pace. Vrethliniel was up, three touches to Seven's two as they fought across the sunlit floor.

"You can defend better than that! Alright, neuvieme, parry quinte. Good, good defense, Seven. Keep watching my elbow and my shoulder—these parts of your opponents consistently reveal his strategy."

Seven watched Vrethliniel's shoulder but still she didn't see the Andorian sikyret coming. The whirling cut came from the Andorian’s wrist and displaced Seven's sword entirely, letting Vrethliniel's thrust through. The holo-duel master's strike had hit Seven on the left side, below her breast. Thankfully, the holodeck safety protocols were on, and the sword did not pierce her biosuit, a force field merely pushed her backwards.

Seven nearly tripped out of the circle of play, but righted herself in time to partially deflect the holo-instructor’s subsequent fleche with a tight counter-parry.

"A commendable deflection, Seven." Vrethliniel said as he counter-disengaged.

Dueling had become an invigorating exercise to Seven. The focus she had to extend both on good form and to keep her considerable strength under control was sufficient to wipe her mind of anything else.

Vrethliniel performed an elegant froissement, displacing Seven's blade with a strong grazing action. Taken off guard, Seven was again forced back. She stepped outside the circle, and lost the duel.

Seven threw her saber against the holodeck wall. It clattered to the deck satisfyingly.

The holo-duel master flashed disapproval and disappointment. “Dueling is about control, not just control of the blade, but also of yourself. It is the way our Keths were united to form a unified planetary society.”

“It is only efficient in bringing order to chaos on a macroscopic level.” Seven retorted.

“You have embraced the techniques, Seven of Nine, but not the spirit of the Ushaan.” Vrethliniel said hotly. “This lesson is terminated. I cannot teach you if your mind refuses to learn.”

With that the hologram walked out of the dueling circle and away from the open training area.

Seven walked to her fallen sword and clenched the hilt in her human hand. Perversely, she realized that her first and strongest impulse was to talk to the Captain. She shook her head, as if to toss thoughts of the auburn-headed woman out of the airlock of her mind.

She slapped her communicator. “Seven to Lieutenant Torres.”

“Torres here.” The Klingon hybrid responded tersely. “What is it Seven? I’m off-duty.”

“I am aware of that kuveleta.” Seven spoke with softly and deliberately. “Hab SoSlI' Quch.”

“What?” B’Elanna replied, her eyes narrowing.

“Do you have problems with your hearing, P’taq?” Seven challenged. “I said your mother has a smooth forehead and sleeps with targhs.”

“Seven, what the fuck are you playing at?” B’Elanna laughed. “I haven’t heard that since I was in primary school. Experiment on someone else, Seven. I’m not biting.”

“I have assimilated millions like you, tokhe straav'.”

“What did you call me?!”

“Willing half-slave.” Seven repeated in English. “Abomination.”

“Seven.” B’Elanna’s cautioned, her voice scintillated like a blade.

“You are weak and do not have the stomach to face me.” Seven taunted. “Are you too frightened to defend what little honor that you have?”

There was silence on the other end of the comm channel.

Seven smirked. “It is no surprise that your father abandoned you.”

The Chief Engineer beamed into the holodeck and grabbed a Bat’leth off the wall.

Seven nodded, raising her saber in salute and shifting her weight slightly forward. “En garde.”

“Fuck you.” B’Elanna replied, striking hard with a swooping cut that would have sliced the ex-drone in two.

Seven riposted immediately, hoping to get under the Bat’leth’s reach and under B’Elanna’s guard. But she could see that Torres had guessed her intent.

B’Elanna leapt aside just in time. She took a few quick running steps to gain distance before swinging back to face Seven again. This time the Klingon aimed higher, at Seven’s chest.

Seven brought her sword down in a desperate bid to deflect the Bat’leth, while leaping to the right. She only managed to move partially from under it. Seven could feel it scrape the implants on her arm.

B’Elanna grunted in satisfaction, face flushed with the heat of bloodlust.

“I’m glad you’ve given me an excuse to do this, Seven.” Torres grinned ferally, flashing her teeth as quickly as her Bat’leth.

This time Seven was ready. She swung hard, striking B'elanna's weapon aside. She saw B'ellana's eyes widen as she closed the distance between them, inside the Bat'leth's effective range, and she brought her saber down toward the Klingon's midsection.

With a bellow, B'ellana changed her grip and deflected the blow, striking at the saber so fiercely that it sent shockwaves up Seven’s arm.

The ex-drone felt the blade of the double-edged Bat’leth sail over her head.

Not wanting to give her opponent any more time than necessary, Seven swung again at B’Elanna’s side, right above the Klingon’s pelvis.

Torres smirked contemptuously and moved her Bat’leth in a two-handed grip to deflect the blade, when the Borg suddenly changed the course of her blow in mid-strike.

Seven raised her saber, then stepped in and brought it crashing down on B’Elanna’s arm in a text-book moulinet.

Thankfully, the holodeck’s safety protocols were still in place, so B’Elanna only sank to the deck on her knees from the strength of Seven’s blow. Had it been a real duel, the Klingon would certainly have lost her arm.

“Point to Seven of Nine. One touch to nil.” The holodeck chirped pleasantly.

The computer’s voice only enraged B’Elanna further. She planted one hand flat on the deck and putting all her wait on it, executed a sweeping kick that would’ve dropped a humanoid twice Seven’s weight, but only caused the ex-drone to stumble.

Seven grunted in frustration and released the pressure on B’Elanna’s arm briefly in order to right herself.

Torres leapt up immediately and the two women circled each other.

Seven watched her opponent edge closer, gauging the Bat'leth's range. The ex-drone adjusted her stance, resting the tip of her saber on the deck, edge up, her human hand gripping the hilt, her Borg hand swept to the side poised in readiness.

"Is that the best the Borg can do?" B’Elanna asked. She shifted her weight forward and feinted. The edge of the Bat’leth slashed deceptively close to her opponent’s face.

Seven responded by bringing her sword up and resting the pommel on her shoulder.

B’Elanna lunged. Her body and her Bat’leth were a perfect arc, aimed for the soft spot just above Seven’s breastbone.

Seven slipped to one side and brought the sword down, looking to strike Torres’ exposed arm again. But the Klingon had already recovered by shifting her body to the side so that Seven's strike sliced nothing but air.

B’Elanna retaliated with another lunge at the Borg’s chest.

Seven moved her saber with deceptive speed, knocking the the Bat’leth out of line and bringing the tip of her own weapon in line with B’Elanna's face.

“Yield.” Seven said, her throat tight.

“Go to hell!” B’Elanna retorted, thrusting at Seven’s throat.

But Seven evaded by ducking down under the attack. She closed in, twisting her body and with her free hand grabbing part of the Bat’leth.

Undaunted, B’Elanna shifted her grip on the Klingon weapon and twisted it sharply. Had Seven been human, there would have been a snap of her wrist breaking. Instead, she slammed against the deck.

Seven rolled over and lifted her saber to strike at the Klingon’s knees, but her thrust was parried by the Bat’leth.

B’Ellana tossed the saber away with a sweep of her Bat’leth, and kicked the Borg’s face. She grinned at the sound of her boot connecting with Seven’s nose.

“Seven of Nine disarmed. Duel to opponent.” The computer’s voice stated.

B’Elanna howled in triumph and shook the Bat’leth above her head. The thrill of victory and a sated contentment washed over her. She punched the air with the Bat’leth.

Seven put a hand to her face and sat up.

Noticing the Borg’s discomfort, B’Elanna’s gloating rapidly abated.

“Hey… need some help?” The Klingon hybrid asked, offering her hand to help Seven up.

“I believe the expression you used was ‘Fuck you’, Lieutenant.” Seven glowered. “You did not adhere to the rules of the circle.”

B’Elanna’s eyebrows hiked into her hairline as she folded her hands across her chest. “This isn’t the Federation Games, Seven. I wasn’t out for a medal.”

Taking in her surroundings for the first time, B’Elanna continued. “Besides, this is Andorian dueling. Anything can happen in the circle, Seven. It may be ritualistic combat but it’s still combat to the death.”

“You kicked me when I was unarmed.” Seven retorted, her hand still covering her nose.

“Did I break it?” B’Elanna asked, crouching down and not completely able to stifle a grin. She reached out to move Seven’s hand away, but the Borg swatted at her with her free hand.

“I am undamaged.”

“Like hell you are.” B’Elanna retorted. “Look, if it’s broken we have to take you to sickbay… which means there’ll have to be a record.”

“You are concerned about your conduct?” Seven scoffed.

“No, I’m concerned with yours.” B’Elanna shot back. “Look Seven, I don’t care if I get into trouble over this. As far as I’m concerned, beating you in a fair fight is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received… but it’s not like you to call me out because you’re spoiling for a fight.”

“Call you out?”

“Provoke me into fighting you.” B’Elanna explained. “Listen, I know your date with Chapman went badly and that what Tom and the Doctor did was inexcusable. How you deal with it is none of my business…”

“Then we agree.” Seven replied, removing her hand to reveal a sizable welt on her nose. “You were lucky. Had you kicked me anywhere else, you would have hit my implants and it would be your foot that was broken.”

“Well, there’s an advantage to being Chief Engineer and a consultant when you have any ah, health problems.” B’Elanna replied. She looked at the Borg appraisingly. “Are you ok?”

“It is not broken. Merely bruised. My nanoprobes are repairing the injury.”

“I’m not talking about your nose.” B’Elanna said impatiently. “I didn’t kick it hard enough to kill you, just stun you.”

“It was effective.”

“Thank you.” B’Elanna said. “That’s the first compliment you’ve ever given me.”

Seven merely raised an eyebrow. “It was not a compliment. You cheated.”

“I won.” B’Elanna paused. “Seven, you don’t play by the rules anywhere else… why do it when you’re dueling?”

The ex-drone shrugged. “The database…”

B’Elanna held up her hand to forestall Seven’s reply. “You know what, maybe it’s the Christmas spirit or maybe I’m just really happy that I beat the crap out of you, but I’ll give you some free advice.”

Seven looked at the Klingon hybrid impatiently.

“There’s a very old cliché that goes ‘All is fair in love and war’. Sometimes, to win, you have to step out of the circle, away from the rules.” B’Elanna said. “You shouldn’t depend on the Doctor’s social lessons, the ship’s database, my relationship with Tom, or any other couple’s experience. You have to trust in yourself and your instincts. And never give up until you’re sure you can’t sacrifice anything more and you’re flat on your back.”

“With your foot in my face.” Seven riposted.

For the first time in the two years she had served with the ex-drone, B’Elanna Torres actually laughed.