This story is the sequel to Just Between Us. While it is not absolutely essential that you read that first, it’s probably a good idea that you do….just to keep things straight.

This installment takes place after the events of The Omega Directive, near the end of fourth year of their journey, and was first posted in May of 1998.

Just Between Them

G. L. Dartt

The sleek, tapered form of U.S.S. Voyager streaked through the eternal night of the Delta Quadrant, forging through the stardusted heavens to its home port which lay tens of thousands of light-years … and decades away … in the Federation. Stranded four years previously, the ultimate responsibility for carrying the ship and its crew home burdened the rather slight shoulders of Captain Kathryn Janeway. A small, compact woman with auburn hair and blue-grey eyes, she radiated a sense of authority and presence that seemed to fill her immediate surroundings, making her appear much more formidable than she actually was.

Even now, when she was dog tired and dragging herself back to her quarters after what had turned out to be a very long week. Two close calls by quantum singularities and a lengthy diplomatic encounter with a fairly cranky group of aliens in the last star system had left her worn out and running on a mere shadow of her normal energetic self. The naps and meals caught on the fly in her ready room had been less than adequate to maintain her normal equilibrium, and this was the first night in too long without duties of any sort. The door to her quarters slid open obediently as she walked through it, and she took a moment to lean against the nearest wall as it closed behind her, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability she would never dare show in front of her crew.

Small, with little sense that this had been her home for the last four years, her living space was cluttered with scientific antiques, but devoid of warmth. Janeway tended to include the more personal decorating touches to her ready room rather than where she slept. Even with the recent change in her life, that had not really altered all that much. But then, why would it? If there was anyone with less flair for decor than Janeway on the ship, it was the person with whom she had formed an unexpected and perplexing romantic attachment. Besides, they each maintained their own separate and distinct living arrangements.

Wearily, she made her way into the bedroom, stripping off the gold communication badge and the four pips on her collar, dropping them onto the nearby night stand. She removed her uniform in the bathroom, tossing black and red garments into the disposal unit that immediately recycled them and materialized a fresh uniform. Moving automatically, she replaced the pips and comm badge, and laid the neatly pressed outfit carefully on the sink counter for morning before returning to the outer room where she crawled into bed.

She stretched out in the center of the mattress and sighed, relaxing every muscle in her body and closing her eyes. With a determined effort, she shoved all that had happened, all that might happen, and everything she had to do to prepare for what might happen, out of her mind and began a relaxation technique. She concentrated on the vision of a sea, on water as still as glass lapping gently on the shore as the stars twinkled overhead. The silvery light of two moons illuminated the small cove with a fairy’s brush, shimmering off the sea and sand, and reflecting in the deep blue gaze of…..

Janeway’s eyes flew open.

She lay there for long moments, stubbornly refusing to make the inquiry. She was, after all, the captain; above the normal needs and desires that plagued the rest of the crew out here so far away from family and home. She folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes once more, using another visualization scenario to relax her. One that did not include anyone else.

Minutes passed fitfully, finally turning into an hour before she sat up with an annoyed grimace. “Computer, locate Seven of Nine,” she said flatly, refusing to acknowledge her defeat.

“Seven of Nine is in astrometrics,” the even feminine tone of the ship related.

Janeway flopped back down in the bed, depressed. When Seven was working, she was as bad as….well, Janeway herself. Single-minded, focused, totally oblivious to any outside interference or influence, the ex-Borg could work for days on end, without pause for such inefficient things like eating or regenerating…..or taking care of her captain. The corner of Janeway’s mouth quirked as an idea struck her. “Computer, when did Seven begin this duty shift?”

“Twenty-three hours, fifty-seven minutes ago,” the computer responded promptly.

“Computer, inform the Doctor of the length of Seven’s shift.”

She linked her fingers across her belly with a smirk of satisfaction. There … and no one would really be the wiser. After all, it was the Doctor’s job to keep Seven from overextending herself. Certainly, Seven had to realize she couldn’t work for long stretches of time the way she had as part of the Borg Collective. The Emergency Medical Hologram would probably materialize in astrometrics to inform Seven that her day was done, and, after the resulting disagreement lasting … oh, say, twenty minutes or so, he would pull rank and send her off to bed. Off to where Janeway waited impatiently.

Except … what if Seven went to her Borg alcove in cargo bay two to regenerate for an hour, and then returned to work? That would satisfy the Doctor and Seven would only be delayed temporarily from continuing whatever it was occupying her time. Janeway’s lips thinned as she contemplated this unpleasant, but very plausible thought. It was highly unlikely she would see Seven at all this night.

Groaning, she rolled over and curled up in a ball under the covers, wrapping her arms around a pillow that made a very poor substitute for six feet of splendidly warm and delectable Borg.

I can sleep, she thought. How hard could it be?

She had been doing it for most of her forty years. It wasn’t as if Seven of Nine resembled in any way the stuffed brown teddy bear that had helped little Katie Janeway sleep the first six years of her life. In fact, after giving up Bobo, she had actually found it distasteful to sleep with anyone. Oh, there were the occasions much later on where romance dictated that she had to share her bed … afterward. Those incidents she managed by scooting as far away from her current companion as she could, stealing most of the covers, and using judiciously placed elbows and knees to preserve her personal space. It had been a source of several arguments with her ex-fiancé, Mark, prior to her mission to chase Maquis in the Badlands which had subsequently resulted in Voyager being lost in the Delta Quadrant. A year ago, after managing a brief contact with the Federation that saw several personal communiqués transmitted through the Hirogen communications array before it was destroyed, she had received a letter from him informing her that he had married someone else. She wondered if his new wife was a little more approachable while slumbering.

That’s what made this thing with Seven so absolutely unfathomable. Lovemaking was one thing, but afterward, Janeway found herself wrapped around the woman as if afraid to let go. She would fall asleep in the strong embrace, wake up thoroughly rested and replenished, draped all over the lanky form with her head pillowed on the full bosom, their limbs tangled so much it was hard to tell where she left off and Seven began. Or better still, with Seven’s warm body curled sweetly around her from behind, the Borg’s arms firmly holding her, knees tucked up under hers, her soft breath stirring her hair, making Janeway feel safe and secure and more loved than she had ever felt before.

Maybe it was because Seven was a woman, she considered. Janeway had not been romantically involved with any women prior to this, and it was possible the smaller, softer, smoother frame was more compatible for snuggling next to in the night. That did not, however, explain why she couldn’t sleep when Seven was not present at all. Annoyed, Janeway sat up, punched the pillow into submission, slapped it down on the bed and slammed her head into it. This was ludicrous. She could not be this weak, this … needy. She was a starship captain, damn it, and she did not require anything or anyone to help her sleep nights.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting upright again. “Computer, locate Seven of Nine,” she said peevishly.

“I am here,” came a voice from the doorway, overriding the computer as the lights rose to one quarter, an automated response to the sound of conversation within the room. Janeway had yet to alter that setting.

Shifting her gaze to the tall, lean woman entering the bedroom, Janeway blinked in the sudden illumination. “Done for the day?” she offered weakly.

Seven regarded her evenly. “Why did you order the computer to inform the Doctor that I had overextended my duty shift?”

“I did?” Janeway temporized. Damn, Seven had actually backtracked it. She tried to look stern. “It’s your duty to make sure you function at peak capacity. You cannot do so if you don’t recieve the proper amount of regeneration.”

“Ah, you wish me to regenerate,” Seven allowed. “I am sorry, Captain, I have erred in my judgement. I thought it was because you wanted me to spend the duration of the night with you.”

Caught, Janeway could only manage an obstinate look. She frowned as she looked at Seven who was making no move to leave.

“Shall I regenerate now?” Seven prodded delicately. She raised the eyebrow under the metallic implant framing her left eye, making it rise as well. The star shaped implant on her right cheek, just under the earlobe where the line of jaw met skull, twitched and Janeway swore there was the faintest of smiles touching the corners of the Borg’s full lipped mouth.

Janeway took a breath. What was more important, her dignity as captain or a good night’s sleep?

“Get over here,” she growled.

Another would probably have snickered, or made some sort of unwise comment at this point. The more reserved Seven merely nodded briefly, and began to shrug out of her brown, mesh-like uniform, peeling off the skintight material to reveal yet more of the mechanical implants that were necessary for her continued existence. While it was hoped that one day, the last of the external ones would be removed, it was entirely possible she would never lose all of her internal mechanisms. The grey metal fibers tracing her flat abdomen, and spreading around her back, reaching almost to her shoulder blades, gave her the ability to synthesize most of her body’s energy directly from the ship’s stores, and the nanoprobes’ enhancements gave her a much greater resistance to radiation and illness. An offshoot from her abdominal implant ran down the back of her left thigh, terminating just above her knee which, along with a fine mesh which incased her left hand and the starfish-shaped implant on her right bicep, increased her physical prowess considerably.

Yet, despite these stark reminders of Seven’s time with the Borg Collective, Janeway thought Seven was, without question, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. That she was in love with her was barely a factor in her aesthetic appreciation for the tall, well-proportioned woman with the ice blue eyes, and blonde hair pulled severely back into an austere bun. Janeway smiled as Seven crawled into the bed next to her, and the captain allowed the larger woman to pull her into her arms. She snuggled gratefully into the embrace, wrapping her arms around the torso next to her as she burrowed her head into the warm hollow of shoulder, nuzzling the elegant neck happily.

“You logged off duty one-point-four-three hours ago, and the computer logs indicated that you retired immediately,” Seven noted as she hugged Janeway close. “Why did you simply not call if you wished to be with me?”

“I can go to sleep without you,” Janeway mumbled in drowsy protest.

“Indeed?” Seven said with some confusion. “That was not the question.”

A gentle snore was her only response.

With a tenderness that would have surprised most of the crew who knew only the aloof and arrogant Borg, Seven gently brushed her lips over Janeway’s forehead. Then, she rested her chin on top of the auburn hair and closed her eyes.

Apparently, she was not required to regenerate after all.

Janeway hesitated as she entered sickbay, taking a brief glance around to make sure that she was the only one visiting at the moment. Through the transparent glass running along the wall to her left, she could see the Doctor in his office, the hologram’s elegant bald scalp gleaming mutely in the overhead lights as he bent his head to his task on his desk. He had a neatly trimmed fringe of dark hair, and steady dark eyes that could warm or chill a patient with just a glance, his frame sparse beneath the black and teal uniform of Starfleet Medical.

Not for the first time, Janeway contemplated the complement of Starfleet personnel, Maquis outlaws and the assorted alien civilians picked up on the way that made up Voyager’s crew. Yet somehow, they all seemed to function well together, and occasionally, like the Emergency Medical Hologram, engaged after the ship’s doctor had been killed in their original entry into the Delta Quadrant, individuals had managed to transcend their potential. Now, having progressed far beyond his programming, the Doctor … and he had yet to settle on any other name … was a valuable member of her senior staff.

Still, she couldn’t help feel that this might be a bit easier if she were dealing with a mere hologram. Taking a deep breath, she walked across the sickbay and tapped briefly at the doorframe. Startled, the Doctor looked up, dropping his padd onto the desk.

“Captain,” he exclaimed, standing up. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to talk to you a few moments, if I could,” she said, glad that none of her nervousness was apparent in her voice.

“Of course,” he said. “Please have a seat. Is this a medical problem, Captain?”

“I’m not sure,” Janeway admitted as she sat down in the chair. “It could be.”

Immediately concerned, he grabbed his tricorder, removing the medical probe which he quickly ran up and over her, studying the readings. “You seem quite healthy,” he informed her. “At least for you. After all, we both know you don’t eat properly, or get the necessary amount of sleep.”

Janeway grimaced. “Um, yes, it’s about my sleeping. I can’t.”

He blinked. “What do you mean, you can’t? At all?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” she allowed slowly. “I can catch naps here and there, twenty minutes or so at a time.”

“But, you don’t sleep through the night,” he guessed. He sat down, looking at her with complete attention.

“No, I mean, yes, I can sleep through the night,” Janeway said. She paused, trying not to squirm. Then finished in a rush. “But only on the nights … when Seven is present.”

“Oh,” the Doctor said briefly. He studied her for a long moment. “On the ship?”

“In the bed,” Janeway clarified, eyes glaring daggers.

“Ah,” he said. “This is not normal for you.”

Janeway exhaled. “Of course not. She certainly wasn’t … present … the first four years, Doctor,” she reminded with a touch of asperity. “I slept fine, then.”

“Hmm.” He leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers before him, regarding her with fascinated absorption. “This sounds like it could be psychological, Captain. Fortunately, there are several sleep disorder subroutines in my psychological programming.”

“Wonderful,” Janeway said flatly. It occurred to her that this had been a very bad idea. She wondered what had ever possessed her to come up with it. Lack of sleep probably, her internal voice noted snidely.

“There could be several reasons why this is happening,” he said. “Stress can make it difficult to sleep, though in your position, that can hardly be considered a new contributing factor. Personal problems can also disrupt sleep patterns.” He squinted at her and lowered his voice, inviting her to confide in him. “Are you and Seven finding yourselves incompatible … sexually? Is that why she isn’t present every night?”

She favored him with a disagreeable look. “Compatibility has nothing to do with it,” she told him coolly. “Seven and I are fine.”

“Oh,” he said with obvious disappointment. He frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said in the sort of tone that warned him that particular topic was exhausted.

“Very well,” he said, leaning back thoughtfully. “Are there any other personal problems that have arisen recently?”

“No,” she said with assurance. “My personal life has never been better, in fact and professionally, things are relatively calm. For Voyager.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. He contemplated it some more, then brightened as a sudden thought struck him. “Perhaps it’s not psychological. It could be physical after all, and it could be Seven.”

Janeway blinked. “How?”

“Seven’s implants radiate a specific magnetic pulse,” he said. “It’s possible that the particular wavelength soothes you into REM sleep. It’s very similar to when a puppy is taken from its mother and the ticking of a clock, mimicking the sound of its parent’s heartbeat, puts it to sleep.”

“I’m not a puppy,” she pointed out dryly.

“No, but just as certain things trigger sleep, a stuffed animal or a favorite blanket, your body’s biorhythms may have adjusted to allow Seven to become that trigger,” he concluded. “B’Elanna Torres for example, has adapted to the hum of a well-tuned warp drive, and any deviation, no matter how minor, wakes her immediately.”

“So, Seven has become necessary for my sleep patterns,” Janeway said with a tiny furrow in her forehead. “What can I do about it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you intend to stop sleeping with Seven?” he asked, then clarified with a certain delicacy that was not normally his style, “Afterward?”

Janeway hesitated, her jaw firming slightly. “No,” she said shortly. In truth, she would prefer to be with Seven significantly more often than they had managed recently. Their respective duties and routines tended to keep them apart, not to mention the random bouts of command propriety on Janeway’s part.

“Then, accept it,” he said, shrugging. “You can resume a regular pattern after a period of not sleeping with her, but once she is present again, her implants’ pulse would disrupt that particular routine, and impose its own. You’d be right back where you started.” He paused, thinking. “Seven still requires an hour of regeneration in her alcove once every forty-eight hours, but I see no reason why she can’t move in with you the rest of the time.”

“Move in with me?” Janeway stared blankly at him. That literally blind-sided her. My god, she hadn’t even lived with Mark. She knew it was something she would be required to do after they were married, but honestly, she hadn’t really thought about it beyond the simple acknowledgment of the whole concept. Now, the Doctor was talking about Seven spending every night with her, being there every morning, requiring a real and permanent commitment.

“I don’t know about this, Doctor,” she said, dragging her dazed mind back to the topic at hand. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.” Regretting it profoundly the second it was out of her mouth.

He leaned forward, suddenly intrigued. “Do you have some objection to committing to Seven?”

“No.”

She was very definite in tone, hoping it would be enough to end this conversation.

He studied her. “You and Mark were engaged for three years with no set wedding date, correct?”

Apparently it was not.

“What,” Janeway frowned at him, “has that have to do with anything?”

“Perhaps you have a fear of personal commitment, Captain,” he said. “Your need to have Seven present when you sleep is merely your sub-conscious attempting to bring it to your attention so that you can resolve it. Do you love her?”

Janeway stood up. “Doctor, I came in here so that you could help me get some sleep,” she snapped. “Not listen to you theorize about my personal life.”

A little surprised at her vehemence, he stood up as well. “I’m sorry, Captain,” he apologized. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I was merely speculating. If you wish, I can do a reading on Seven and cross match it with an EMG of your brain. It would be fairly easy to determine if she puts you to sleep as a result of her implants … or because you just like having her around. If it is her implants, then I can come up with a device that reproduces the pulse, allowing you to sleep when she isn’t present.”

Janeway rubbed her eyes. This was turning into something far more complicated than what she wanted or needed right now. “Can’t you just give me something?” she asked. “Without involving Seven?”

The Doctor blinked. “Like a tranquilizer? I would have to object strongly to that suggestion.”

“Fine,” she said briskly. “I’m just going to have to get used to Seven’s not being there.”

“Or see that she is present all the time,” the Doctor reminded.

“Thank you for your time,” Janeway answered, already out the door.

Leaving behind a sorely confused Emergency Medical Hologram.

“May I ask you a question, Tuvok?” Seven asked politely, as she assisted Voyager’s chief of security.

They were in the ship’s gym, performing the cardiovascular regimen required of every crewmember on a regular basis. The Borg had made it a practice to schedule a certain amount of personal time to be with the dark-skinned Vulcan whose calm demeanor she had apparently decided to emulate. Working out together was a way to do that. Tuvok, though he would never admit it out loud, found it quite … gratifying. He looked upon the young woman as a welcome addition to the small circle of personal acquaintances he was prepared to call ‘friend’. In some odd way, she reminded him of his daughter, though why that was so, he had yet to pinpoint.

“I trust this is of a personal nature,” he said, grasping the weight bar which was programmed for his much heavier alien muscle mass. He lay on his back on the weight bench as he easily began to perform several deep presses above his chest. Seven hovered over him, performing the duty of spotter. “Since, normally you do not request permission to ask questions.”

“That is correct,” she responded. “It is personal.”

“You may ask,” he allowed. Sweat ran off his forehead and dripped off the points of his ears onto the floor. There was only the slightest hint of strain in his voice; whether from the weights or in anticipation of her question, he wasn’t sure. “I cannot guarantee I will provide you with a satisfactory answer.”

“You are married, correct?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Is that the question?”

“No, I wish to know if that state of being is somehow more important than when two people merely spend time together,” she concluded.

Tuvok eyed her warily from his supine position. “In many cultures, it is,” he said carefully. “It indicates a deeper commitment than that of being merely companions … or lovers.”

“Why?”

He nudged the bar towards her, and she took it easily, lifting it into its rack. He sat up and brushed the chalk from his gloved hands. “There are legal reasons,” he explained, bracing his arms and utilizing the weights at the end of the bench to perform leg presses. “In some cultures, sexual taboos demand that such acts be performed only within the parameters of an official ceremony. A marriage ceremony may also be necessary for defining the distribution of property, and the caring of offspring. Such responsibilities require something more than a simple verbal agreement in certain societies. Marriage can also indicate a spiritual significance for two people. Very often a couple may feel that a ceremony of sorts, performed before their immediate community, is necessary in order to feel … complete. On Vulcan, such a ceremony is not only spiritual, it solidifies a psychic union between two beings that only death can sever.”

“What of Humans?”

He raised an eyebrow, eyeing her sardonically. “In general?” he requested clarification. “Or specific to Captain Janeway?”

“I apologize for being imprecise,” she said immediately. “With regards to the captain.”

Tuvok didn’t answer right away, first completing his leg presses, stretching a bit and then, going over to a nearby stationary bike where he began to pedal steadily. Seven patiently joined him on a second bike nearby.

“The captain is from the North American section of Earth, specifically the midwest, and thus, can logically be expected to follow the traditional norms of that area. There appears to be a specific set of stages leading up to the ceremony, which is called a ‘wedding’,” he said thoughtfully. “There is the first stage of the relationship, the ‘dating period’ wherein two people spend time together, assessing their suitability for each other. The level of the relationship can be determined by how exclusive the couple is in their sexual habits. If copulation is not limited to just each other, it is not determined to be a ‘serious’ relationship, but merely a casual one, involving recreational copulation. A ‘serious’ relationship leads into a preparatory stage known as the ‘engagement’, which directly precedes the wedding. Sexual copulation at this time is assumed to be limited to just between the two, though there is a function called a stag party which leaves that theory in question. In some instances, the two will abstain from sexual practices completely until after the ceremony is actually performed. In any event, after the wedding, sexual copulation is definitely expected to be limited to just the two parties, both as a recreational pursuit, and in order to procreate.”

He tightened his bike, increasing the resistance. “In the case of the captain, since she was officially engaged to a Human male named Mark Johnson prior to our being lost in the Delta Quadrant, it is clear that she is a follower of these concepts. In fact, she received information during our contact with the Alpha Quadrant that he has since married someone else.”

Seven had stopped pedaling, looking at him with a decidedly odd expression, and with a sudden, profound discomfort, Tuvok realized that this was completely new information to the young woman; not just the fact that the captain had been engaged, but that she had ever been involved with someone else. For a brief instant, he had an incredible urge to throttle Kathryn Janeway for having put him in the position of breaking such a delicate piece of news to Seven, and in such a manner. How could the captain have neglected to share such an important part of her past with the young woman? However, his Vulcan cultural conditioning immediately suppressed the primal urge, if not his distaste for having inadvertently upset Seven.

“Have you discussed these concepts with the captain?” he asked weakly.

“No, but I shall now,” she said with a definite edge to her tone as she began to pedal the bike with far more expenditure of energy than was necessary.

Tuvok wondered if he should warn Janeway what was coming, then decided against it. Vulcans were not, as a rule, vindictive but they did think an individual should take responsibility for their own actions. He couldn’t look out for Janeway all the time.

He did, however, allow the thought that it would be a fascinating experience to be allowed to observe such a conversation … from a safe distance, of course.

The bridge was fairly quiet this day, the only sounds those of gentle beeps, and the computer’s muttering interspersed with the constant hum of the warp drive. Lounging in his chair, Commander Chakotay regarded the starfield revealed on the large viewscreen at the front with a sort of dreamy inattention glazing his dark eyes. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dusky good looks and a muscular build, Voyager’s first officer was considered quite attractive by most of the female crewmembers who found his brooding manner and quiet charm an irresistible combination. It had been commonly considered that he was the one Captain Janeway had set her sights on, but her new relationship with Seven of Nine had turned that assumption abruptly on its ear. Suddenly, there was a whole new interest in his availability. It was something Chakotay had slowly realized over the past few months, and right at this moment, though there was no outer indication, he was very aware of Lt. Angela James eyeing him from her post at the science station.

Like Janeway, he had maintained an aloof status from the rest of the crew, determining that the consequences of such relationships would be more trouble than they were worth. The captain’s new romance had forced him to re-evaluate that decision, and now he was considering that if the captain could handle what was clearly a complicated partner like Seven, then perhaps he didn’t need to spend his journey through the Delta Quadrant alone, either. So, in the past where he would have steadfastly ignored the young woman’s interest, Chakotay was now toying very strongly with the idea of approaching the well-developed science officer with the long brown hair and leaf green eyes.

The soft sigh of the doors to the turbolift diverted his attention, and he turned to see Seven of Nine walk onto the bridge. He carefully squelched the lustful thoughts that immediately sprang to mind as she undulated across the deck. Seven was completely unaware of her effect on most of the male libidos on the ship, and it was probably a good thing that she had become involved with the captain. Anybody with a lesser rank, especially if he had been male, would have felt obligated to pop a few of the less discrete oglers .. such as Harry Kim.

Chakotay didn’t have to look to know that the young operations officer behind him was observing Seven’s progress with a puppy dog look of unrequited lust in his handsome features. Even Tom Paris, the fair-haired helmsman at the front of the bridge, was risking a quick look over his shoulder. Not wise, Chakotay allowed, considering the fact that Paris had his hands full with the chief engineer, B’Elanna Torres. The Klingon/Human hybrid would have quickly and soundly thrashed Paris had she even suspected the helmsman was looking at Seven longer than the prescribed period of time necessary to simply identify her. But Torres was currently occupied down in engineering, and Tom apparently felt safe enough to let his gaze linger a little until the unmistakably disapproving glare from where Tuvok maintained his tactical post made him drop his eyes. Chakotay looked up inquiringly as Seven stopped in front of him.

“The captain isn’t here,” he informed her with a gentle smile. “I think she might be running her da Vinci program in holodeck one.”

“Yes, she is,” Seven responded coolly as she stood over the reclined first officer. “It is you with whom I wish to speak.”

Chakotay was surprised, the tribal tattoo over his left eye crinkling as he raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yes,” she said. “I also need to address Tom Paris.” She favored the helmsman with a look of such pure and utter disdain that Chakotay had a sudden foreboding feeling in his gut. He found he was exchanging glances with Tuvok who had raised an eyebrow in … warning?

“It would be best if you conversed privately,” the Vulcan suggested strongly. “Perhaps in the conference room?”

Chakotay sensed that Tuvok was trying to tell him something, and he was not adverse to taking a little advice now and again, particularly from the chief of security. He nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s a good idea,” he said to Seven. “Let’s go into the conference room.”

He nodded at the Vulcan, and led the way off the bridge. It was only after he turned around near the large conference table that he realized Tuvok had also joined them. Since he was under the impression he had left the security chief in charge of the bridge, he was slightly nonplused for a moment.

“What’s this about, Seven?” he asked, trying to regain his grip on the situation.

She ignored him, glaring at Paris. “You and Kathryn copulated,” she said. “That is unacceptable.”

Tom’s eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “Whoa, waitaminute. What are you talking about?”

“When you test flew a shuttle in excess of speeds of warp ten,” she continued with inexorable firmness. “You took Kathryn as your mate…”

“I was devolving into a lizard,” Tom protested. “I couldn’t control my actions. I had to mate … and well….”

“Why did you not choose B’Elanna Torres?”

Tom opened his mouth, hesitated, tried again. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps the concept of Janeway being an Alpha female,” Tuvok interjected reasonably. “A matter of natural selection. The captain would have no choice once she began to devolve as well. Their interaction was purely involuntary.”

“Anyway,” Tom said, “It’s not like we remembered anything after it was done. It was only that one time.”

“So you do not copulate with her now?”

“No, my god, no.” Tom was astounded. “Seven, I love B’Elanna.”

She stared at him a few seconds more before appearing to dismiss him as irrelevant. She then turned on Chakotay, who was just now starting to react, so stunned was he at the conversation he was hearing. When those ice-blue eyes turned on him, he swallowed hard. “Look Seven, I don’t think we should be discussing this with you. This is completely inappropriate.”

“You and Kathryn were stranded on a planet for three months,” she said, ignoring his protest. “Did you copulate with her?”

“Yeah, Chakotay,” Tom offered helpfully, intensely curious. There was a longstanding pool on just this very topic, and the helmsman had quite a lot of credits invested on what this unexpected … and vastly amusing now that he was no longer involved … conversation might reveal. “Did you?”

Chakotay favored him with a blistering glare. “Seven,” he said, maintaining his temper with great effort, “what occurred between the captain and I is just between us, and not a matter for public consumption. I suggest you talk to her.”

“Do you copulate with her now?” she asked bitingly.

“Seven, this is not something I’m going to talk about with you,” he repeated stubbornly, having no idea how to terminate this conversation with any sort of dignity at all.

Her features were frozen. “So you do,” she surmised.

And punched him.

Hard.

The other two men watched with astonishment as Chakotay, propelled by a Borg-enhanced left hook, cartwheeled over the table and crashed into a chair, which skidded into the wall before depositing him with a solid thump onto the floor. The first officer brought his hand to his face, took it away covered with blood and looked up to see Paris staring at Seven with respectful awe, well out of arm’s reach, while Tuvok restrained the woman. Chakotay dazedly realized the security chief was regarding him expectantly.

“Are you all right, Commander?” the Vulcan asked politely.

“I guess,” Chakotay said. He hadn’t even seen it coming. With an unsteady grip on the table, which was rapidly becoming speckled with drops of crimson, he finally regained his feet. “Tuvok?”

“I will escort Seven to the brig,” the Vulcan said calmly. “You should report to sickbay.”

Head still ringing from the blow, Chakotay nodded gingerly.

“So, which one of you is going to tell the captain?” Tom offered brightly.

Seven sat huddled on the bunk, arms about her body as if to shake off some sort of chill. She seemed very young, very vulnerable, and Janeway couldn’t help remembering the last time the woman had been behind that force field. Seven of Nine had still been mostly Borg, a drone only recently cut off from the Collective she had known most of her life. Disoriented and frightened, she had begged the captain to return her to the world she knew, to leave her on a planet and allow her to contact the nearest Borg cube.

Janeway had refused. Not accepting that Seven, after eighteen years in the Collective, had the mental capacity to make that sort of decision, the captain had made it for her, keeping her on Voyager despite the very valid and furious arguments that Seven had countered with. Perhaps it was that very anger which made Janeway refuse to let her go. Such passion and fury were completely Human, and Janeway couldn’t bear the thought of it being strangled by Seven’s return to the Collective. Yet, it had torn the captain apart then, and seeing her lover like this, it was tearing her apart now. At neither time, did Janeway allow herself to show it. Stiffly, she nodded at Tuvok who shut down the force shield, and took up a position outside the door to the security area, affording the captain and Seven a measure of privacy.

For long moments, Janeway stared at the younger woman who offered no indication that she was even aware of the captain’s presence. Unbidden, a muscle twitched sporadically in Janeway’s jaw as she sought to gain control over the emotions swirling within her.

“So you finally managed to get yourself locked up in the brig,” she stated icily.

Seven still did not raise her head. “You are very angry at me,” the younger woman noted softly.

“That would be an understatement,” Janeway told her, her voice at its lowest, and most dangerous register. Carefully, she stepped over the metal beam bordering the brig’s entrance and entered the cell. She frowned down at Seven as she stood over her, hands linked behind her back in a grip of pure iron to keep her from grabbing the girl, and shaking some sense into her. “Do you want to explain why you punched Commander Chakotay?”

“I hate him,” Seven replied flatly.

Janeway blinked. She hadn’t really known what to expect when the Doctor’s call dragged her out of da Vinci’s lab, but it certainly hadn’t been to find the blood splattered Chakotay being attended to in sickbay as Tom Paris looked on with amusement. Nor the fact that her lover was under arrest for punching Voyager’s first officer in the conference room. As to what precipitated the conflict, all Chakotay would say was that he thought Seven was somewhat misinformed, and that the captain should talk to her.

“Why do you hate him?” Janeway queried.

“You and he copulate,” Seven informed her sullenly. “This is unacceptable to me.”

Janeway absorbed this with some difficulty. “Well, Chakotay was right,” Janeway said with a frown. “You certainly are confused. Seven, where did you come up with all this, anyway?”

“I researched your personal history,” Seven explained emptily. “I did not realize you had so many other lovers besides myself.”

“I wouldn’t have said that many,” Janeway responded dryly, still trying to get a grasp on the situation, and failing miserably. “Did you think you were the only one I’d ever been with?”

“Yes.” Now there was emotion coloring the tone, startling Janeway with its aching, ragged despair as Seven clenched her fists on her thighs. “You are the only one I have ever been with. The only one I ever want to be with. You are the only one I have ever loved. But I am merely one of many to you.”

It was at times like this that Janeway realized how little Seven understood about her Humanity, how very little actual life experience she had. The knowledge of thousands of species was accessible to her, the memories of millions of individuals in her brain, but there was no emotional connection to any of it. She was only now attaching emotional resonance to her own personal experiences, many of which were confusing to Humans at the best of times. Janeway shook her head, trying hard to figure out where she should go from here.

“Seven, you’re not just one of many,” she tried to explain. “You;re very important to me.”

“More important than Mark Johnson?”

Janeway caught her breath. Oh, this was bad, she thought. “I am not going to compare you and Mark,” she told her firmly. “In any event, what happened between Mark and I is in the past. It has absolutely nothing to do with you and me.”

“You were engaged to him,” Seven said bitterly. Janeway saw that her hands were actually pale, digging into the younger woman’s legs. “You love him. I am only someone with whom you copulate.”

Janeway was appalled. “Where are you coming up with this?” she repeated, exasperated.

“I spoke with Tuvok about the stages of Human mating habits,” Seven related. “He told me you were preparing to enter the final stage of the Human relationship with Mark Johnson, to be married. I am only a casual form of recreation to you, a mere first stage encounter to you. This is unacceptable to me.”

“Oh dear god,” Janeway mumbled. “Remind me to have a word with Tuvok after this is all over.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase what was rapidly turning into a major migraine. “Seven, this still doesn’t explain why you punched Chakotay.”

“You copulate with him,” Seven said, her voice choked. “I hate him. I wanted to hurt him.”

“You were jealous of him,” Janeway identified.

“‘Jealous’,” Seven tasted the word, grimaced. “I do not like this ‘jealous’.”

“No, it’s not a very attractive emotion,” Janeway said coldly. “Especially since there’s no basis for it. Chakotay is my friend. He and I do not … copulate.” She uttered the word distastefully. “Now, or at anytime in the past.”

Finally, Seven looked up at her. Her eyes were brimming with moisture, tiny tears tracking her cheeks. “No?” she asked with a helpless mixture of hope and dismay. Despite her anger, Janeway felt her heart spasm in her chest, and involuntarily, she reached out, gently wiping Seven’s face with her fingertips, taking the chin between her thumb and forefinger.

“No,” Janeway said in a gentler voice, her eyes full of compassion. “But even if we had been together, Seven, you still had no right to hit him. My life, and my past lovers, are mine to deal with. Not yours. I understand that the thought of my being with other people hurts you. I wish it didn’t, but there’s nothing I can do to change what has already happened, nor would I if I could. All my life experiences are part of what and who I am now. Would you really want me to be different?”

Seven closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janeway said softly. “Annika, you are far from being merely a casual physical encounter to me. There is no one else in my personal life right now, but you. There is no one else I want in my life.” She took a breath and released her hold on Seven, straightening and setting her shoulders firm. Her face altered, becoming stone-like, her eyes flinty chips of granite. “But God knows what I’m supposed to do with you now. Striking a superior officer is a court-martial offense.”

“I am not a member of Starfleet,” Seven reminded her, hopefully. “Technically, he is not my superior officer.”

“That may be the only thing saving your hide,” Janeway said furiously. “Chakotay absolutely refuses to press charges against you, and neither Tuvok nor Tom will comment officially about what happened in the conference room. For some reason, they all feel protective of you. I don’t have that luxury. You will apologize to Commander Chakotay, and you will be restricted to cargo bay two for the foreseeable future.”

For the first time ever, the punishment utilized so many times before clearly disturbed Seven. “I will not be able to leave the cargo bay?” she asked in a trembling voice.

“No,” Janeway told her.

“Not even to see you?”

Janeway firmed her jaw, shaking her head. “No. Seven, this is very serious. We’ve discussed the difference between having an impulse and acting on it. Your actions were completely inappropriate and damaging to the function of this ship. I cannot overlook this. You must be punished. Restricting you to quarters is my only recourse.”

“I understand,” Seven said in a very tiny voice, hanging her head in shame. “I am sorry, Captain.”

That almost made the good captain crumble … but not quite. “Tuvok shall escort you to the cargo bay,” Janeway said coldly. “You shall remain there until I inform you that your punishment has been served.” Then, before she could change her mind, she turned on her heel and quickly left the cell, re-establishing the force field before she exited the brig. She paused outside the door, leaning against the wall wearily, closing her eyes as she bent her head. She became aware of Tuvok moving closer, and with an effort, she looked up at him.

Tuvok’s expression was as concerned as the Vulcan would allow it. “What will happen to Seven, Captain?”

She regarded him evenly. “You couldn’t stop her before she swung, Tuvok?”

“She is very quick,” he noted with regret.

“Yes,” Janeway agreed dismally. “I want to know what you told her about Human mating habits, Tuvok.”

She listened impassively as he recited the conversation of a day ago, managing to keep the worst of her winces internal, though the information cut her right to the bone. She took a deep breath when he was done.

“I want you to take her to wherever Chakotay is recovering so that she may apologize to him,” she instructed. “Then, confine her to cargo bay two for the time being. Place a level seven restriction on her. No one is to speak with her without my personal authorization.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Understood, Captain.” But he hesitated. “Captain, I must tell you, I consider myself somewhat responsible for this. I was unaware that she did not know about your previous relationships. Perhaps, I also deserve to be punished.”

Janeway eyed him. “That won’t be necessary, Tuvok,” she said dryly. “I’m not punishing her for being jealous, just for her physical confrontation with Chakotay, and yes, I do realize I did play a part in this myself. Would you believe my past simply never came up in any of our discussions? “

“It is not my intention to criticize, Captain,” he protested mildly. “Merely inform you as to the role I played in this. I should have told you of our conversation yesterday, immediately after it happened.”

Janeway shook her head. “No, Tuvok,” she said, holding up an elegant finger in disagreement. “I don’t want or need to know everything that goes on with Seven. She has to be able to have friends, people she can talk to without worrying that what she says will be passed on to me. I’m glad she considers you a confidante. God knows, you’ve been a good friend to me. As difficult as this will be, I think it will provide her with a valuable lesson that she simply has not been able to grasp before now.”

“I hope so, Captain,” he said. He paused. “What will you do now?”

Janeway sighed. “Find the Doctor,” she said grimly. “I’m going to need his help to get through the next little while.”

Ten days passed as Seven of Nine attempted to occupy herself while serving her punishment. She was allowed to resume part of her duties after five days when Harry Kim transferred information from astrometrics onto her workstation in the cargo bay, but as hard as she tried, she was unable to concentrate on it for any length of time. She could not remember feeling so wretched, so very alone, not even after being separated from the Borg, or when she had guided the ship through the nebula while the crew was in stasis. Now, even though the rest of the crew was a mere hail away, she was keenly aware of what it truly meant to be left by herself, to be alone. It was sheer agony.

On the tenth night, as she stood at her console trying to complete an astrometrics report, she heard the large bay doors slide open. She did not shift her attention from her data. Though her Borg alcove was here, and it was generally considered her living area, the cargo bay still contained a lot of equipment and supplies that the crew needed to access. She was not locked in, and she had received a regular stream of visitors who were fulfilling one errand or another, but while their brief incursions broke the monotony, she did not try to speak to them, nor they to her, respecting the restrictions the captain had placed upon her. Once, early on, the doctor had come in and took some readings from her implants, but his conversation had been brief and to the point, completely unlike him. Of course, the one person she really wanted to see, never came.

Seven did not appreciate the horrible, empty feeling she had experienced so often early in her incarceration. That emotion, that disappointment, was very uncomfortable for her. Time and again, she had looked eagerly at whoever came through the door, only to see anyone but the person she so desperately needed … until finally, she had reached the point where she refused to look up at all, keeping her back to the entrance so that she would not be disappointed again.

“Seven.” The voice was very distinctive, husky and low.

Instantly, she turned, raising her eyes to meet the grey-blue gaze that seemed to reach deep inside her and surround her heart in a steel grip. “Kath….Captain?” She had taken an involuntary step toward the compact form, then hesitated, mindful of how much trouble she had caused. Instead, she straightened and linked her hands behind her back, trying to present as professional a demeanor as possible.

“I wanted to let you know that your punishment ends tomorrow morning at 0600,” Janeway informed her with cool detachment.

Seven was very familiar with that implacable command expression, the face which indicated very clearly that Janeway was captain and Seven of Nine was merely her subordinate. Seven did not really like seeing it at any time, though she accepted that it was a necessity when they were dealing with each other on duty, respecting the distance Janeway imposed on them outside their personal relationship. Now, it struck deep into her heart, slicing through it like a razor, reminding her of what she had cost herself with her rash actions.

“I understand,” Seven said with difficulty. She maintained her impassiveness with only the greatest of wills.

For long moments they regarded each other. Seven slowly began to notice the tired way Janeway stood, the burdened set to the shoulders, the lines around her mouth, but the young woman was uncertain as to whether she could approach the captain at all. The fact that Janeway had not immediately turned to go, however, allowed Seven to consider that perhaps she had the tiniest sliver of opportunity here. Something she had not anticipated receiving, but leaped upon gladly … a possible second chance.

“May I touch you?” Seven asked in her gentlest tone.

Janeway’s mouth twitched, her lips thinning, but she nodded briefly. “I really wish you would.”

Seven moved closer, and with great care, wrapped her arms around Janeway as she felt the captain slowly collapse against her. Holding her up effortlessly, Seven gently kissed the smaller woman’s forehead, closing her eyes in relief and gratitude.

“Please don’t make me have to go through this again,” Janeway requested in a weary voice, resting her head on the taller woman’s shoulder, and sliding her arms about the tiny waist, hugging her tightly. “Don’t force me to discipline you in this manner.”

“I will not,” Seven said with all the intensity she could inject in her cool voice, tightening her grip as well. “I will never do anything wrong again.”

Janeway sighed ruefully against Seven’s chest. “Let’s not be unrealistic, my love,” she said with dry irony. “Just don’t do anything that requires me to lock you up for days on end.”

“I promise,” Seven swore reverently … and then, added with a shy wistfulness. “Am I still your ‘love’?”

“Of course you are,” Janeway reassured in her no-nonsense tone, frowning slightly as she drew back to look up at the Borg. “Always.”

“I thought I had forfeited that right,” Seven said softly.

Janeway was silent for some time, searching Seven’s face intently. “Seven, I punished you for striking Chakotay,” she explained finally, reaching up to touch the Borg’s cheek gently, cupping it in the warm palm of her hand. “Not for why you did it. Our personal relationship is apart from how I treat you as a crewmember under my command. However, I do agree that the personal reason you had for hitting him is one we must work out. Seven, you’re the only one I care about in this way. You’re the only one I wish to be intimate with. I really need you to understand that.”

Seven swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “I am afraid now,” she revealed huskily. “I was not before I discovered you have loved others … this way.”

Janeway sighed, and drew the taller woman’s head down so that their foreheads were resting together. “Seven, there is absolutely nothing for you to be afraid of. I’m with you because I choose to be, and because I want to be. Of all the people in my life now, you’re the only one to whom I’ve given my heart. You have to realize the worst part about jealousy is that it denotes a lack of trust. You don’t trust in me, and you don’t trust in my love for you. You have to have faith in what we share, Seven.”

“What did you share with Mark Johnson?” Seven asked unhappily.

There was a pause. “I loved Mark,” Janeway said gently. “Nor was he the first person I’ve loved in this way. That doesn’t mean I love you any less. I do realize, however, that you’re having a great deal of difficulty understanding this concept.”

Seven lowered her eyes. “It hurts,” she admitted.

Janeway hesitated, then nodded. “I know. I wish it didn’t. Can you accept that it’s you I love? Not Chakotay. Not even Mark anymore, were he suddenly to appear. I just want to be with you.”

“I will try, Kathryn,” Seven said with grave assurance. “I want very much to succeed.”

“Then I believe you will,” Janeway said softly. “When you set your mind to something, I have never known you to fail.” She leaned back a little so she could look into the pale eyes and smiled gently at her.

“You’re still with me, aren’t you?”

“The time is 0600.”

The smooth voice of the computer nudged Janeway awake, and with a soft sigh, she opened her eyes. “Oh god,” she said softly.

She was resting in Seven’s arms on the dais, the larger woman reclined on the cold, hard deck, her back resting against the beam next to her Borg alcove. Janeway was curled up on top of her, cuddled against Seven’s front with her head pillowed on her chest like a child. She vaguely remembered sitting down on the dais the night before, and closing her eyes for ‘just a moment’ as Seven sat down next to her. Now it was 0600, she felt wonderfully rested and could only imagine how poor Seven felt, having been utilized as a mattress for the entire night.

However, the cool blue eyes were regarding her with total adoration as she lifted her head. “Good morning,” Janeway said bashfully. “You should have thrown me out. Not let me lie on you all night.”

“That would have been unacceptable,” Seven told her.

Janeway smiled. “For me, too,” she admitted, “but you must be very uncomfortable.” She made a weak effort to get up and was immediately stymied by the strong arms that tightened possessively around her.

“I am very comfortable,” Seven assured her. “Please, do not go.”

“All right.” Janeway settled back into the embrace, leaning forward to brush her lips gently across Seven’s. “Our duty shifts start soon,” she warned gently.

Seven’s only reply was to pull her closer, and cover her mouth demandingly. A little startled at first, Janeway was soon returning the kiss with passion, realizing suddenly how long it had been since punishments, time and respective duties had granted them a chance to be intimate. She felt Seven raise her hand to her cheek, then tangle in her hair, pulling her even deeper into the kiss, igniting a fire in her belly which spread throughout her. She tasted the smooth flavor of Seven’s tongue slipping between her lips, exploring the inside of her mouth with delicate precision, and she moaned softly as the younger woman let go of her head and wormed her hand inside Janeway’s uniform, slipping beneath the heavy tunic to caress her breasts through the grey turtleneck sweater.

It was only with the greatest of effort that Janeway was able to pull away. “Wait,” she said breathlessly, trying to regain control of her senses. She freed one hand and tapped her comm badge. “Janeway to bridge.”

“Bridge here, Lt. Larson at conn,” came the voice of the gamma shift officer who held the ship pending the arrival of the day’s alpha crew.

“Larson, log that I will be unavailable today,” Janeway commanded. “Unless it is an emergency. Personal priority.”

Seven was watching her with an intrigued expression. Janeway never took a day off unless literally forced to. “Understood,” Larson responded, and the wonder was evident in his tone as well. “Conn will be handed over to Commander Chakotay at 0700,” he said. “Bridge out.”

Janeway then took a moment to kiss Seven once more before activating her communicator again. “Computer, log Seven of Nine as returned to full duty as of 0600 hours this Stardate. Log her as unavailable today due to personal priority.”

“So logged,” the computer responded evenly.

Seven raised an eyebrow. “I am … surprised, Kathryn.”

“I know,” Janeway smiled. “So am I. But it’s about time we had a day off together, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Seven said, and reached for her again. Janeway resisted gently.

“Not here,” she instructed. “The last thing I need is for someone to come in and see their captain rolling around on the deck with the astrometrics officer.”

“The crew are aware of our relationship,” Seven pointed out as Janeway got to her feet and offered her a hand up.

“Yes,” Janeway agreed, “but they’re not aware of everything that relationship includes and I’d like to keep it that way.” She straightened her uniform as best she could, and raked her fingers through her hair. “I need a shower.”

“Now, or afterward?” Seven said, raising an eyebrow.

Janeway flashed her an impish grin. “I’ll have to think about that. In either event, I can think of a much more comfortable place than this.”

The corridors and turbolift leading to the captain’s quarters were empty, much to Janeway’s relief. The hour was too early for the senior officers to be making their way to the mess hall for breakfast and it was too late for those leaving their shifts. She led the way into the cabin, and then turned to Seven who had stopped just inside the door. “We should go into the bedroom,” she suggested softly.

“In a moment,” Seven said as she reached out for her, cupping her face in her hands and bringing her lips to hers.

Kathryn made a sound at the back of her throat and returned the kiss with sincere interest, pressing her body against the taller woman. She reached behind Seven, finding the fastenings at the back of the sleek, brown mesh outfit, and released them, pulling the material from the sinuous back and smooth shoulders, drawing it down over the full breasts to her waist. Kathryn paused there to run her fingertips over the proud swells, touching the soft skin of Seven’s nipples, which hardened sweetly beneath her touch. Seven moaned softly, intensifying the kiss before pulling away briefly to tug her outfit from her arms, and pushing it down over her hips, kicking it off and leaving her exposed to Kathryn’s appreciative regard.

“You’re so beautiful,” the captain murmured, taking in the vision before her as Seven’s hands tugged at her uniform. She helped Seven undress her, the red and black outfit being tossed negligently on the floor beside the discarded mesh outfit as the Borg kissed her hungrily, her hands exploring Kathryn eagerly, almost roughly.

“Easy, my love,” Kathryn cautioned against her mouth. “We have the whole day.”

“It has been so long,” Seven complained, though her caresses eased their intensity, slowing and gentling as she began to take her time.

“I know,” Kathryn said. “Believe me, I know.” She captured that generous mouth, running her tongue over each full lip before slipping it between them, tasting the sweetness of Seven. She raked her hands down the long back, tracing over the metal fibers, stroking the flesh underneath. Meanwhile, she could feel Seven’s competent fingers stroking her sides and hips, pushing Janeway back a little to separate them so that the Borg could continue the caress over her stomach and undersides of her breasts, cupping them in her palms.

“Mmm…” Kathryn arched into the hands, feeling the grip shift upward to fully cover her small breasts, pressing against her nipples, rasping over them to stimulate them. Then, Seven was releasing the older woman’s mouth, trailing over her chin, nuzzling the small of her throat, then along the line of her neck. “The bedroom,” the captain reminded huskily.

“If you insist,” Seven responded between nibbles on Kathryn’s earlobe. “Though the floor is more than adequate.”

Kathryn laughed. “For you, maybe, but there’s a perfectly good bed only a few feet away.” She gasped abruptly as Seven hefted her up over her shoulder, finding herself upsidedown with a close-up view of Seven’s buttocks as the blonde carried her into the bedroom.

“Seven!” she squeaked in surprised outrage, her arms waving helplessly.

“What?” Seven responded, dumping her rather unceremoniously on the bed.

“Where did you learn that?” Kathryn asked her breathlessly.

“From several novels,” Seven informed her, crawling onto the bed and hovering over her on all fours. “The doctor recommended reading them as something to occupy myself during my incarceration. This seemed to be the preferred method of carrying one’s lover to bed.”

“I think we need to improve your reading material,” Kathryn told her, running her hands up the slender arms bracing the woman above her. She clasped the narrow shoulders, and pulled Seven down on top of her.

“You did not like it?” Seven queried curiously as she pressed down on her.

“It’s a trifle ungraceful,” Kathryn explained, sliding her hands restlessly over Seven’s back and shoulders, pulling her closer. “I would rather not be hauled around like a sack of corn.”

“Then, I shall not do it again,” Seven responded and began to kiss the captain’s ear and jaw with hungry intent.

“As long as we understand each other,” Kathryn laughed softly, then as Seven found her mouth again, they kissed ravenously, greedily, tongues tasting deep of each other as their hands moved quickly, seemingly to be everywhere at once. Kathryn moaned and gasped into Seven, biting gently at the blonde’s bottom lip, sucking on it as she felt the need grow taut within her.

Seven responded instantly, inserting her knee between Kathryn’s legs, parting them so that she could press against their juncture. Kathryn groaned and spread her legs further apart, pressing hard against the smooth skin, feeling herself slide slick against Seven’s thigh. Seven raised up on her elbows, using her lips to trace her way over Kathryn’s chest to her breasts which she licked and nibbled hungrily, mouthing the small nipples avidly, alternating back and forth until Kathryn was almost insane from wanting her.

“Annika…” she managed, tangling her fingers in the blonde hair, pulling it free of its bun, letting it spill free about the fine head, falling down to flow over her chest. “Please, darling … now … take me….”

Seven refused to comply, continuing to tease her for long exquisite moments, feasting on the lovely little breasts with loving intensity. Finally Kathryn felt Seven’s right hand slide between her thighs into the moisture and heat that awaited, moaning and shuddering as her long fingers carefully fondled the folds of sensitive flesh, finding the firm little nodule and manipulating it with tender skill. Kathryn’s hips began to undulate, pushing against Seven’s hand, crying out wordlessly as the younger woman carefully penetrated the wetness, slipping easily into the captain, first one finger, then two, filling her with commanding yet tender strength.

Kathryn shuddered at the sensation of those long, elegant digits caressing her internally, stroking deep inside her before curling up to find that little spot which made her lose all track of who and where she was. Then Seven’s thumb found the aching ridge of hardness, manipulating it with precise skill, somehow impossibly intensifying the sensation. It boosted Janeway to that summit which trembled beyond her, just out of reach, hesitating for one brief instant of eternity, then with a wail of pleasure and utter abandon ripping from her throat, it shattered within her, leaving mere pieces of her to drift slowly back to reality.

It took a while before she was able to gather herself, slowly becoming aware of the warm strength of Seven completely covering her, and she clung to it, gripping the shoulder blades with wordless need. Swallowing hard, the captain opened her eyes to the smoldering ice-blue gaze looking down at her possessively, the blonde hair falling disarrayed about the face which held total love and adoration.

“Annika,” Kathryn whispered throatily, sliding her hands down the sinuous back. With an unexpected burst of strength, she succeeded in flipping them over so that they had reversed positions, Kathryn pressing down on the lanky body with demanding pleasure. “You really are the most incredible lover.”

Seven allowed a rare smile to part her lips, revealing the white flash of teeth. “This lesson in Humanity has always been my favorite.”

Startled by the atypical flash of humor, Kathryn laughed deep in her chest and kissed Seven passionately, sliding her hands over the slender form which pushed up against her eagerly. She had an overwhelming urge to absorb the young woman, to consume her utterly, to take her hard and fast and leave nothing behind. She literally had to restrain herself, careful to take her time as she made her way down the wonderful body. She delighted in the taste and scent of the smooth skin, lingering over the different textures she discovered along the way; the rosy circle surrounding the hard nipple which pebbled under her touch, the belly contracting sweetly around the metallic mesh as she stroked it, the fine, soft triangle of darker blonde hair which tickled her face as she nestled her lips on the incredibly smooth skin beneath.

Kathryn parted the lengthy legs with firm hands, opening the young woman up to her, and with delicate grace, she gently drew her tongue along the tender line of each inner thigh before dipping into the musky wetness that awaited her, savoring the heat and the mild salt-sweet flavor of her lover. She could hear Seven’s gasp of breath, the low moan as she arched up to the captain’s lips and tongue. Kathryn murmured in pleasure as she explored the intimate depths of Seven, cupping her buttocks in her hands and pulling the slender hips up to her mouth. She moaned in empathy as she found those places she had come to know so well … tender, intimate places which, when manipulated just so, drew Seven completely out of her shell, destroying the iceberg demeanor she presented to the rest of the universe, and leaving behind only the hotly passionate woman who groaned and thrashed, growing louder with each passing second, spasming and clutching at the bed sheets, shredding them down to the mattress ticking. Pleasuring the young woman unmercifully, Janeway heard Seven cry out as the sensation shook her like helpless prey before finally, after long, intense moments, it tossed the Borg aside, leaving her limp and incapable of any further response. Only then did the older woman ease her loving assault, bestowing a few final fond kisses to the throbbing flesh before crawling back up to where Seven grabbed her in an almost, but not quite, bruising embrace.

“Kathryn,” she sobbed. “Kathryn.”

“I’m here, love,” Kathryn soothed quietly, holding her comfortingly, hoping with all her might that the soundproofing in her cabin was sufficient. Otherwise, if Chakotay had not already left for the day … she tried not to think about that too hard. “I’m right here, darling.” She held the young woman tightly, kissing her sweetly as slowly, in hesitant fits and starts, Seven managed to reconstruct her shell of composure. Carefully, Kathryn pulled a blanket up over them, wrapping it around their entwined bodies that were cooling now that they were still.

“Kathryn,” Seven whispered, stroking Janeway’s back with long, smooth featherlight touches. “I have damaged your bed.”

“I noticed,” Kathryn replied, regarding the torn sheets and mattress with dismay, and carefully disguised smugness, unable to deny that it gave her a certain satisfaction to know she had managed to make Seven lose all sense of herself, including the ability to temper the raw power of her implant. Even if it meant yet another invoice to stores to request a mattress. “Better it than me,” the captain reminded with dry irony.

That had happened on only one occasion, very early on in their sexual interaction, and the sharply sarcastic lecture they had received from the Doctor as he repaired the lacerated back of the captain, not to mention the sight of all that shredded flesh, had been indelibly imprinted on Seven’s psyche. Since then, the young woman was extremely careful to keep her left hand well away from Janeway during their most intense moments. Janeway, who had been covered with blood and certain other fluids, remembered the event with aggravation, not only for the shocking pain in the middle of what had been an extremely gratifying encounter, but also the fact that they had been forced to summon the hologram into her bedroom to treat her. It had been profoundly humiliating.

“I do not want to ever hurt you,” Seven said, pulling back to regard her gravely.

Janeway smiled affectionately at her. “Believe me, my darling, I know that,” she replied seriously. “You bring me all the happiness in the universe. I completely adore you.”

Seven did not offer another of her smiles, but her pale eyes seemed to glow as if lit by some inner joy that radiated from deep inside her, making Kathryn wish with all her heart that she could somehow capture that luminance, and carry it with her always. The captain spent a few more moments nuzzling her, whispering further words of comfort to her, reassuring promises of everlasting love, further healing the minor breach between them before the inevitable sleepiness stole over her with subtle demand. Janeway yawned and smiled ruefully as she rolled over so that her back was to Seven, who immediately wrapped herself around the smaller woman, her breath stirring the captain’s hair. With a sigh of pure bliss, Janeway snuggled happily into the warm embrace, feeling more at peace than she had for some time.

“What of your shower?” Seven asked.

“Mmm, later,” Janeway responded drowsily, not wanting to move an centimeter. “After a nap.”

Within seconds, she was sound asleep.

“Bridge to the captain.”

Janeway was jolted awake and she took a deep intake of breath. So much for their day off, she thought dismally. “Janeway here,” she said in a low voice, reluctantly easing away from the lanky warmth of Seven who was still slumbering peacefully.

“Long range sensors are detecting unusual readings, Captain,” Chakotay said. There was a hesitation, then he added with sincere regret. “I’m sorry to bother you while off duty, but I think you should see them.”

“On my way,” she said, slipping quietly from the bed.

“Kathryn?”

She shot a glance back at the tousled head of Seven blinking at her with sleepy confusion. “I’m needed,” she explained over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom. “You stay in bed, sweetheart.”

Janeway took a quick hydro shower, the fine needles of water driving away the last of her drowsiness and leaving her refreshed as she came back into the bedroom, drying her hair with a towel. She was surprised but gratified to find that Seven had risen as well, replicating the captain a fresh uniform which she handed to her as she brushed past to enter the bathroom. The thin whine of the sonic setting which Seven preferred for her implants, the cleaning action more efficient than water, vibrated subtly in the captain’s head as Janeway pulled on her uniform. She was just pulling up her tunic fastening when Seven returned, dressed in a fresh outfit and every hair in perfect place.

Janeway eyed Seven with surprise as the blonde casually reached over and straightened the captain’s turtleneck, making sure the pips were prominently displayed. Unable to refrain from the thought that perhaps the Doctor’s idea of her living with the young woman wasn’t such a bad one after all, Janeway realized this had been a well-coordinated effort with little wasted motion. She had the undeniable suspicion that it would’ve taken her much longer to get ready without Seven’s assistance.

“I will be in astrometrics, Captain,” Seven said, as they left the captain’s quarters and entered the turbolift.

“Fine,” Janeway said, her mind already on whatever Chakotay felt needed her attention. “Bridge.”

The turbolift was quick and as she stepped off, she looked back for a second, making a point to smile at Seven, dipping her head in recognition of the look on the young woman’s face. “We’ll have a day off another time,” she promised before the door slid shut. The bright glow she had seen in Seven’s eyes warmed her all the way through.

“Report,” she said crisply as she walked down to the command level.

“Here, Captain,” Chakotay stood up, relinquishing the command chair and motioned toward the monitor on the armrest. Janeway sat down and went over the data, her lips pursing as the import struck her. Wide-eyed, she raised her gaze to meet Chakotay’s. She was aware of the rest of the bridge personnel looking at her with breathless anticipation.

“It’s a wormhole.”

“Yes,” he said, and grinned widely. “All indications are that it’s completely stable.”

Janeway smiled and the rest of the bridge crew didn’t exactly cheer, but certainly the release of breath was notable in its loudness. “The question is,” she warned, not wanting them to get ahead of themselves, “where does it lead?”

“We’ve dispatched two probes,” Chakotay said. “We should be receiving data shortly.” He looked at her intently, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry, I thought you should be here.”

“You were right,” she told him in an equally low voice. “I would have been upset to miss this.”

He nodded, reassured that he had been right in calling her to the bridge. If she had been in the holodeck or anywhere but in her quarters, where the computer informed him she was with Seven of Nine, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Taking a day off to be with her lover, however … it had taken him a while to key the comm badge. He was glad he had chosen correctly.

As the crew waited impatiently for the probes to start transmitting data, tension filled the air. Would this be their one chance to return to the Alpha Quadrant, make it back home to family and friends? Despite the fact they had no idea where the wormhole led, each crewmember found him or herself speculating on what it would be like to finally make it back.

At ops, Harry Kim considered the joy of his family at his safe return, the happiness his parents would feel at him walking through the door of their home. He had received one brief letter from them in four years. What would it be like to see their faces again?

Nearest the viewscreen, the more cynical Tom Paris held the ship at station keeping, wondering briefly at the reaction of his father, how his return would affect their strained relationship, especially when he brought a Maquis/Klingon woman to meet dear old dad. The imagined expression on his father’s face provided him with several moments of amusement.

Tuvok, at his tactical station, was not in the habit of speculating or wondering, but he did allow that it would be gratifying to see his wife again, and his children. His oldest son had undergone pon farr and was now a father himself. That would alter their relationship, and he looked forward to what that might bring.

Chakotay was more leery of his reception. Resigning his commission from Starfleet to join the Maquis had lasting repercussions. A letter he had received from a fellow Maquis during their previous contact with the Alpha Quadrant, had informed him that the Resistance group was now destroyed, with only a few lucky ones surviving in Federation prisons while the rest had been slaughtered by the Cardassians, who were aided by something called the Dominion. Perhaps the Federation would no longer care that he and the rest of the Maquis members of Voyager were considered outlaws. Perhaps they’d even be pardoned. One thing was certain, however, he would no longer be first officer of this ship. He glanced covertly at the captain, wondering what was going through her mind.

Janeway stared at the viewscreen, unseeingly. The actions taken over the last four years could easily end up with her being promoted to a larger vessel … or leave her court-martialed and disgraced. It was a toss-up either way, but it was likely she would lose Voyager, and a certain fact that no matter what, she would lose her crew, this group of people who had become a family. She worried what would happen to them, to the Maquis, to people like Tom and B’Elanna, to Neelix who would be the stranger in the wrong quadrant. To Seven, possibly having relatives waiting on Earth who would be less than impressed with her Borgness, and could end up hurting her terribly. Janeway tried to steel herself for the inevitable parting of ways, for the difficulties that lay before them, and found she was unable to. There was a very real pain in her heart at the thought of these people who had come to mean so much to her, being scattered to the four winds. She had broken the cardinal rule for captains; she cared very much and in a very personal way about each and every member of her crew. There was no question that the thought of losing these dear people left her aching and empty inside.

“Telemetry coming in,” Kim said, excitement coloring his tone. “Astrometrics being transmitted now.”

Eagerly, they all bent to their instruments, going over the stream of data that was being sent back through the wormhole from the probes. It was Tom Paris who realized it first, moments later, perhaps because he never really had high hopes to begin with. The rest took a little longer, but soon it was apparent to every one of them.

“The Beta Quadrant?” Chakotay said, staring at his monitor.

Janeway leaned back in her chair, covering her eyes with her hand. “Yes,” she said, her voice harsher than intended. “Located 85,000 light-years from the furthest recorded exploration of the Klingon Empire. Farther away from the Federation than where we landed in this quadrant.”

The disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow. For all of them, the gloom descending on the bridge like a dark shroud, almost smothering in its bleakness. Carefully, Janeway took her hand away and inhaled deeply. “Thank god the rest of the ship didn’t know,” she said quietly. “It only went this far.”

“Hope isn’t such a bad thing, Captain,” Chakotay offered mildly. “It’s kept us going this long.”

Janeway looked at him, nodded in acknowledgment of the wisdom of the words. “I know,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. She looked to Harry who seemed the most devastated of the group and let compassion color her words. “Mark it with a beacon,” she instructed gently. “Maybe someone will be able to explore it someday.”

Stone-faced, Harry, did as instructed, releasing a buoy to mark the location of the wormhole. As he did, Tom Paris remained staring thoughtfully at his console.

“Captain, has Voyager ever been in Klingon or Romulan space?” he asked suddenly.

Puzzled, Janeway looked at him. “No,” she responded. “We were always assigned to other sectors.”

“What about through the Bajoran wormhole?” Paris persisted.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said. “We ran escort for a convoy returning to Deep Space Nine during our shakedown cruise … a week or so before our excursion to the Badlands.”

“So Voyager’s been in the Gamma Quadrant,” Tom said with some satisfaction. “But never in the Beta Quadrant.” He turned his chair around, looked at the captain and Chakotay. “Oh, Captain, we just have to!”

She stared at him nonplused. Chakotay saw immediately where this was leading however. “You want us to take Voyager through the wormhole,” he said, faint interest coloring his tone.

“When will we get another chance?” Tom insisted. He turned halfway back, touching some controls to send data to their consoles before spinning to face them. “Look, there’s an uninhabited system not a half light-year from the other side. I say, we go through, stick a plaque or something that says we were there, then come back. How long could it take?” He looked at Janeway, excitement lighting his face. “Come on, Captain,” he urged. “Voyager could be the first, and maybe the only Federation starship to do this. This may be her only opportunity. Doesn’t the old girl deserve that much at least?” He patted the console fondly. “To dip her hull into the space of all four quadrants.”

Janeway exchanged a glance with Chakotay who raised an eyebrow. “It’s an idea,” he said with an intrigued look, spreading his hands out in front of him.

She looked around the bridge, saw that even Harry had brightened at the proposal. “Let me think about this,” she said slowly. “Hold position here in the meantime, Tom.” She got up and nodded at Chakotay who quickly followed her as she led the way to the ready room. “Tuvok, you have the bridge.”

In the ready room, she paced animatedly along the upper deck, looking at Chakotay who watched her with a half smile, standing quietly on the stairs. She stopped, put her hands together in a prayer-like motion, the tips of her fingers resting on her chin. “Chakotay?” she asked.

He grinned knowingly. “You want to do it. I can see it in your eyes, Kathryn.”

She grinned back at him before sobering. “But am I justified in doing it? To deviate from our course just to say we did? To take Voyager through a wormhole into unknown space, expose her to who knows what kind of danger on the other side of the galaxy, all for the sake of some meaningless gesture that no one else might ever know about?”

“We’d know, Kathryn. It wouldn’t be meaningless to us.” He stepped up the last two stairs to stand next to her, looking down into her eyes. “If this were the Alpha Quadrant,” he offered persuasively. “We’d already be exploring the wormhole, regardless of where it led. Kathryn, we said this was going to be a Starfleet vessel, with a Starfleet crew … right from the beginning. It’s our duty not just to get home, but to explore what we can along the way. You know this. You’re the one who determined how it was to be, so why stop now?” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll have plenty of disappointments along the way. Let’s have an accomplishment beyond merely surviving for once.”

She looked at him a moment longer, then nodded once. “Let’s do it.”

Excitement and anticipation swept through the ship like wildfire, the crew reacting with enthusiasm for the proposal; the Starfleet members, because, after all, this was the sort of thing they had signed up for in the first place, and the rest because it was positive and interesting and frankly, alleviated a bit of the monotony. Harry and Tom set to work on what sort of memento would be best for them to leave behind, signifying their visit, while Janeway and Chakotay pored over the data to make sure there were no hidden threats in either the wormhole itself, or the space beyond. In engineering, Torres, with Seven’s assistance, went over every centimeter of the ship, making sure it was as prepared as it could be for the trip through the spatial rift. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Tuvok checked all their respective equipment in case things did not go as planned.

Even Neelix was caught up in the preparations, planning the celebratory party for after they had completed their mission. After all, this had significant historical value, even if it was only the crew who would know about it. Fortunately, they had just acquired a large supply of foodstuffs from a system a month back, and he would be able to put on a spread worthy of such an achievement.

Finally, all preparations were as complete as they knew how to make them. Janeway sat in her chair, looking at the viewscreen ahead. All her command staff was on the bridge. Even B’Elanna occupied the engineering console, not wanting to be down in the lower decks for what could be an historic occasion. The Doctor made himself busy at the starboard science console, while Seven took the auxiliary tactical post aft of the command chairs, though neither station required manning. Some of the beta shift took up spots along the upper line of the bridge, exceptionally early for their duty. Janeway hadn’t had so many unnecessary people on deck one since the vessel had first been launched.

Janeway swallowed, then nodded at the helm. “Take us in, Tom,” she said, glad her voice did not betray any of the flutters that had suddenly appeared in her stomach.

With majestic grace, Voyager turned into the area of space where the wormhole opened up obediently, a swirling mass of color and light appearing on the viewscreen. Then they were inside, the multi-hued streaks surrounding the ship reminiscent of the Bajoran passage leading into the Gamma Quadrant. As in that wormhole, this trip was brief and smooth, with no surprises or bumps, just a gentle entry into another part of the galaxy filled with unfamiliar stars, the wormhole closing quietly behind them without fanfare.

There was a brief hesitation and despite herself, Janeway found herself standing, not really aware of having risen from her chair, staring at the viewscreen with wonder. Knowing that they were somewhere no one else from the Federation had ever been, maybe never would be, that they were the first. “Welcome to the Beta Quadrant,” she said huskily.

There was a loud cheer from the rest of the ship echoing from the ship’s speakers, and from the voices of the bridge crew, as Chakotay led the applause. Janeway smiled, enjoying it for a long moment, and found her eyes straying back to the tactical station where a cool blue gaze caught and held her for a brief instant of joyful sharing.

“Lt. Paris,” she said, projecting her voice to bring things back under control. “Pick up our probes. Then, lay in a course for the star system.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, keying the controls before him with a broad grin.

Janeway sat back down, looking over at Chakotay. “I’ll never get tired of it,” she said softly. “The feeling of going where no one has gone before.”

“Time to hang it up if you do,” he said with a quiet smile.

She nodded, returning his smile warmly and looked towards the viewscreen, keenly aware of the others on the bridge who were bending to their tasks, recording all the data they could during this brief visit to yet another part of the galaxy. This was what it was all about, what sometimes got lost in their struggle to return home. For once, they were operating the sensors merely to satisfy curiosity, just to see what was there. It was purely scientific, and for the first time in a long time, Janeway was doing exactly what she had intended to do all her life.

“The system has five planets,” Tuvok said. “No sentient life signs though the second planet indicates perfect conditions for such evolution. Both the second and third planets have moons. Might I suggest the smaller one orbiting the third planet as suitable for our task.”

Janeway nodded. That appealed to her. For anyone to find it, they would either have to have evolved on the second planet and reached a technology level suitable to reach out that far, or they would be travelers through this area of space, hence already having achieved space travel. She stood up once more, looking at Chakotay. “You have the bridge.”

She hesitated, having kept the identities of the away team to herself, though it was assumed by all that she would head it. She was just that sort of captain. “Ensign Wildman, Lt. Carey, Ensign Vorik, meet me in the transporter room,” she said. She inclined her head at Paris, smiling at how his eyes lit up. “Tom, you and Tuvok are with me.” With the exception of Tom, those people were the only ones still left on Voyager who had been on board for the trip to the Gamma Quadrant all those years ago. She invited Paris because it had been his idea, and frankly, that deserved a reward.

From the expressions on the rest of their faces, she knew they understood why she had chosen the people she had, and were not only accepting of it, but also approved heartily. “This shouldn’t take too long,” she said before leaving, the security chief and her helmsman at her heels.

Down in the transporter room, all of them swiftly donned their environmental suits … the moon lacking an atmosphere … and took their places on the transporter pad. Two crewmembers handed Tom the plaque and then, with a nod at the transporter chief, the away team disappeared with the traditional hum and sparkles.

They materialized on the moon’s surface and Janeway leaned back, looking up, clearly able to see her ship keeping a stationary orbit above their heads. For a moment, the sheer beauty of her vessel brought tears to her eyes, and she felt such a connection to everyone on board and beyond, to all the explorers Humanity had produced throughout its long and varied history. On this small moon, a mere spec in the middle of utter nowhere, she was a part of something so large, so grand that the mere thought of it threatened to burst her heart from her chest.

She swallowed hard. “One small step…” she whispered.

“One giant leap…” added Tom’s voice in her ear through the suit’s communicator. His voice was filled with a shared wonder.

With difficulty, she cleared her throat and raised her arm, pointing at the outcropping of rock in the distance. “There, I think,” she said.

“Good choice, Captain,” Tom said.

The group spread out and moved towards the outcropping, Tom and Tuvok carrying the plaque between them. They sat it on top of a huge boulder, using tools to weld it in place. It was made of duranium, the strongest substance they knew, about a half meter wide and 30 centimeters high, about 15 centimeters thick. Inside, it was hollowed out, data chips containing the history of Voyager and the Federation placed snugly inside, along with the standard greetings of peace and welcome. The outside was flat and etched with the words:

U.S.S. Voyager

NCC 74656

“Seeking out the four Quadrants;

Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta”

Perhaps one day, someone would stand here in their own version of their spacesuit and look at this, knowing it was alien and different and feel as Janeway did now, as if the whole universe was theirs, if only they dared try.

She was suddenly aware that the rest of the team had turned to her, anticipating her command as to what to do next, waiting for her to say something to mark this momentous occasion. She searched for the words, wishing she had prepared something and wondering why she hadn’t. The only thing that came into her mind was the quote. She just hoped it was appropriate.

“For I have dipt into the future, far as Human eye could see; Saw the Vision of the World, and all the wonder that would be…” she recited softly, emotion deepening her voice, and she touched the plaque with a gloved fingertip. She looked around, unable to see their faces clearly through the faceplates reflecting the light of a thousand stars. “Janeway to Voyager. Bring us home, Commander.”

The last thing she saw before the sparkles of the transporter obscured her vision was the plaque standing silent sentinel on the rock, the bejeweled emptiness of deep space beckoning beyond it.

Chakotay looked up as Janeway rejoined him on the bridge, her face alight with pleasure, looking like a young girl with her first taste of freedom. It was at times like this that he sensed the immense burden that she carried all of the time, aware of it only when it had been lightened briefly as this day’s events had done. He was very glad they had decided to do this thing.

“Is the plaque secure?” he asked.

“For at least a few millennia,” she smiled as she sat in her command chair. She looked towards the helm where Paris had relieved his replacement. “Set a course for the wormhole, Mr. Paris.”

“Aye, Captain,” he replied smartly.

“Captain, long range sensors are detecting a ship.”

Tuvok’s words chased all the lightheartedness from the bridge in a heartbeat. Adrenaline began to pump and with a sense of foreboding, Janeway stood up. “On screen,” she said. Just once, she wondered idly, why couldn’t things go as planned. Of course, there was no indication the ship was hostile, not yet at any rate, but the last years of encounters in the Delta Quadrant had given the crew of Voyager a pessimistic view of these sort of things. It was better to prepare for the worst, than expect the best.

The viewscreen flickered to reveal a long sleek ship, a little larger than Voyager. Ensign Kim looked up from ops. “We’re being hailed,” he said, voice tense. At Janeway’s nod, he put it through. Once more, the fore view altered, revealing a woman with silver hair and startling emerald eyes. Two feathery antennae wafted from the inner corner of each delicate eyebrow, and the pointed tips of her ears peeked through the long, fine hair. She looked remarkably elf-like, a picture from some fantasy. Her voice, however, was firm and self-assured.

“This is the Confederate Scout Ship StarRunner,” she said. “Tazna Jade, First in command. Please identify yourself.”

Janeway took a breath. They were polite, at any rate. And weren’t shooting at them. Yet.

“This is the Federation Starship Voyager,” she responded. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway. We’re from the Alpha Quadrant.”

The woman looked startled. “Alpha Quadrant,” she repeated. She looked to the side as if getting a confirmation on the translation. Then she looked at Janeway once more. “I’m sorry, Captain Kathryn, but our sensors indicate that your technology simply will not allow you to travel such a distance. You entered our space through a spatial anomaly that we know leads to the Delta Quadrant.”

Janeway nodded. “Yes, we were lost in the Delta Quadrant four years ago,” she explained. “We discovered the wormhole and hoped it would provide a shortcut back to our home.”

Tazna regarded her for a moment. “Captain,” she said with mild reproof. “You didn’t have to come through to figure out the wormhole leads here, to the Beta Quadrant.”

Janeway nodded. “No, we didn’t,” she said, taking a second to revise her perception of the woman. She was a lot quicker than most she had been dealing with lately. She paused, then spread her hands out. “We were curious,” she admitted simply, with a smile.

To her gratification, Tazna favored her with one right back. “That is something we StarScouts can relate to, Captain,” she replied. “We too, are explorers, first and foremost. In fact, we have traversed the wormhole ourselves. However, I do not envy your journey there. We found our brief incursion most … inhospitable. There were … Hirogen? That’s why we monitor any traffic that might come through.”

Janeway shared the smile. “Yes, we have encountered them,” she admitted. “It is wise to be alert.”

“What is your intention, now?” Tazna asked. “Do you intend to explore our area of space?”

“No,” Janeway responded. “We came over merely to take a look, and now we must return to the Delta Quadrant to resume our journey home. Unfortunately, we are much closer there than we are here.”

“I understand,” Tazna said. “However, I would welcome the chance to learn more about your people … do you require anything that would make your journey easier? Foodstuffs, medical supplies, fuel, perhaps? We would readily give these in exchange for any information about your travels that you could give.”

Janeway was overwhelmed by the offer. It was such a marked contrast to practically every encounter they had experienced in the last two years. It was almost too good to be true. Suspicion darkened her eyes.

“I thank you,” she said firmly. “But we cannot linger here. However, you will find what you need to know about us in a container we left on the moon of the third planet in this system.”

Tazna nodded at Janeway compassionately. “We will leave a data pack containing our history and culture for you to pick up if you wish. I bid you and your crew a safe journey home, Captain.”

The transmission ended, and the viewscreen revealed a packet materializing in the space between their ships. StarRunner backed off to take up a stationary orbit about the third moon where Voyager had left their plaque.

“There are energy readings coming from the Confederation ship, and life signs now appearing on the moon,” Tuvok said calmly. “They clearly have transporter technology comparable to our own.”

“Beam that packet into astrometrics, and set a course back to the wormhole,” Janeway ordered and looked at Chakotay. “I think we’ve lost something,” she said ruefully. “When did we become so reluctant to interact with new civilizations?”

“Maybe around the seventh time a new civilization tried to destroy us,” Paris interjected wryly from the helm.

“Captain, their away team has beamed back to their ship, and I can no longer read the data chips in the plaque, though apparently they left the outer casing attached to the rock,” Tuvok related quietly.

“So, they have the information they wanted,” Janeway said softly. “Let’s see what we can find out about them.”

The Confederation of Species turned out to be remarkably similar to the Federation, comprising of several hundred star systems while the StarScouts were close to Starfleet in structure. The comparison between the two cultures, with the Elthanians … Tazna Jade’s species … apparently fulfilling the role Humans had in the Alpha Quadrant was shocking and it made the crew of Voyager not a little homesick.

“Why couldn’t we have been lost in the Beta Quadrant,” Tom groused from his chair in the conference room where the senior crew, including Seven and Torres, were discussing the repercussions of their discoveries. They had spent the last few days going over the information in the small packet. Not yet accessing the wormhole, they had taken up a position where they could dart through it at an instant’s notice.

“It could be a trick,” Torres said. “A setup using false data.”

Tuvok favored the Klingon reprovingly. “So could ours,” he reminded. “They would have far more reason to be suspicious of us. We entered their space.”

“Where is StarRunner now?” Janeway asked, sitting at the head of the table.

“They continue to maintain a position one light-year away,” Harry Kim said, touching controls on his padd. “They seem to be waiting to see what we’ll do next.”

Janeway shook her head briefly. “Exactly what we would do if this were the Alpha Quadrant,” she said with a touch of self reproach. “If nothing else, this is showing us how far we’ve strayed from Starfleet ideals.”

“It’s easier to be Starfleet when the rest of the Federation is only a hail away,” Chakotay reminded gently. “We don’t have that luxury.”

“There is something else I feel I must point out here,” Tuvok offered coolly. “This is very much like the Federation, peaceful and organized, with a broad multitude of cultures dedicated to exploration and scientific discoveries, with similar ideals and opportunities…” He trailed off, raising a eyebrow significantly.

Janeway looked at him, then took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “I have an idea what you’re going to say. This is not home, but from what we’ve learned…” her voice lowered, “it easily could if we wanted it to be.”

The rest, with the exception of Seven and Tuvok regarded her with varying degrees of shock and speculation, and she met their eyes evenly. “It’s something to think about.”

“So we’ll be staying in the Beta Quadrant?” Paris asked slowly.

“For the time being,” Janeway said. “In the meantime, we’ll continue to investigate the information we have received, and arrange further contact with the Confederate ship.” She nodded at them. “Dismissed.”

They all left except for Seven, who remained in her seat, regarding Janeway with an intrigued expression. Janeway caught her gaze, waited until the door had shut behind the rest, and then raised an eyebrow. “You have something to add?” she asked wryly.

“Just curious, Captain,” Seven said. “Do you want to stay here?”

Janeway frowned slightly, looked at her padd. “Not necessarily,” she said slowly, “but if it’s an option, then I have to offer it to the crew. They deserve that much.” She looked back at Seven and softened perceptibly. “What of you? What would you chose?”

“Wherever you are,” Seven responded calmly, with absolute surety. “That is where I will be. The actual location is irrelevant.”

Though Janeway had insisted on absolute professionalism while they were on duty, the captain felt a wave of tenderness run through her and she went over to the young woman where she gently kissed her. Surprised, Seven kissed her back, putting her hands on the slender shoulders and holding her tight for a moment before Janeway straightened, looking down at her fondly.

“You really are the sweetest person, Annika,” she said softly.

Seven raised an eyebrow. “That is not something I have been accused of often,” she responded. “Or at all.”

“Well, take my word for it,” Janeway said. She regarded her pensively for a moment. “I don’t know what’s going to occur the next little while but it’s doubtful we’ll be able to spend much time together. You must be on your best diplomatic behavior.”

“I understand,” Seven said calmly.

Janeway smiled and touched her cheek fleetingly. “My love,” she said softly. Then she refocused and left the conference room. Seven made her way to the turbolift as Janeway took up a position in front of her command chair.

There she nodded crisply at Harry Kim. “Hail StarRunner.”

Immediately the viewscreen revealed Tazna Jade. “I’m very glad to hear from you again, Captain Janeway,” she said. “However, I did expect it after all we have learned of your people from your data chips.”

“Yes, I must apologize for my abruptness before, Tazna First,” Janeway said sincerely. Their research gave her the proper order of phrasing just as StarRunner’s had apparently given the Elthanian. No more ‘Captain Kathryn’. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been greeted so well.”

“I understand completely,” Tazna waved it off. “From your logs regarding your travels, your journey has been a stressful one. One learns to be wary no matter what ideals one strives for. I am merely gratified that it has not destroyed all your trust in others.”

“Not at all,” Janeway smiled then added delicately, “We would very much like the opportunity to spend more time here, learning more about the Confederation.”

“You are most welcome to do so,” Tazna said. She touched controls on her chair. “There is a star port only a few parsecs away, Hearthstone. It has a fully functional shipyard, not to mention being one of the busier trading ports of this area. I believe it would be quite suitable for your purposes.”

“My purposes?” Janeway queried.

Tazna rested her chin on her knuckles. “Were I to put myself in your place, Captain Janeway,” she said gently, “and Voyager my ship, I would want a place where it could receive a complete overhaul, be fully restocked and allow my crew some much needed shore leave in a safe environment. In addition to learning more about the Confederation. Hearthstone is perfect for all of those things.” She spread her hands out. “But you certainly don’t have to take my word for it. I will send over the coordinates in any event.”

She’s a trifle presumptuous, Janeway’s little voice noted idly.

She nodded briefly. “It sounds fine,” she said. “What of you?”

Tazna dipped her head. “My crew thinks it would be a most wonderful idea for us to escort you there and host your visit,” she said. “The fact that it would provide them with shore leave at Hearthstone as well, I’m sure, never once entered their minds.” She grinned at Janeway winningly and despite herself, the Federation captain found herself returning it with complete understanding. “In the meantime, may we offer the first invitation? Dinner for you and whatever command staff you can spare on my ship tonight?”

Again, a touch of suspicion and Janeway smoothly countered. “Please, allow us to be your hosts this one night,” she responded. “I would be honored to show you Voyager.”

“Of course,” Tazna said easily, with no apparent concern. “The honor would be ours.”

This either meant that the Elthanian First was a lot more secure in her superiority, if indeed she were up to no good, or that things were exactly as they appeared to be; just a friendly exchange of invitations from another captain, another equal who understood exactly what Janeway lived with every single second of every day. It could easily be a Starfleet uniform being worn by the Elthanian, and it was far more civilized than anything the Federation captain had experienced in four years. For a brief second, homesickness threatened to overwhelm Janeway.

“At 2100 hours?” she replied, and if her voice was a bit husky, neither chose to notice it.

“We’ll be there,” Tazna promised.

A low hum filled the transporter room as three figures materialized on the dais. Janeway waited patiently while StarRunner’s crew appeared, looking around curiously. She noted that Tazna Jade was larger than she had originally appeared on the viewscreen, and more solidly built, topping Janeway by about 15 centimeters, her body curvaceous beneath the emerald uniform with brown accents at the shoulders and wrists. Like the Federation captain, she exuded a palpable sense of command, a formidable presence radiating from her like a tangible force. When she smiled at them, it seemed to illuminate the room, touching each individual with its warmth and personality. She was carrying a decorative bottle filled with some reddish liquid, which she presented to Janeway formally as they stepped down off the platform.

“Greetings to you and your crew, Captain Kathryn Janeway,” she said. “It is our custom to offer a gift when invited to dinner.”

“Thank you,” Janeway accepted the bottle graciously. She motioned to the others in the room. “My chief engineer, Lt. B’Elanna Torres and my chief of security, Lt. Commander Tuvok.”

Tazna dipped her head elegantly at each introduction. “A multi-species crew,” she noted with appreciation, which was the main reason Janeway had chosen the pair; to show the Federation’s diversity. “One more thing we have in common.”

“This is my healer, Marin,” Tazna introduced her companions, the female, impossibly slender with green, narrow features and a smooth, bald head who nodded politely with dark eyes bright with interest. The large catlike creature, a male, had a full golden mane and loomed over everyone in the room though his motion was lithe and quick. “StarRunner’s custodian, Rynard.”

Rynard rumbled deep in his chest and bowed gracefully. “I would be eager to compare notes,” he said to Torres who was forced to look up. Way up.

“That would be interesting,” B’Elanna allowed evenly, smiling faintly.

“We’ve scheduled a tour of the ship after dinner,” Janeway went on as she led the way out of the transporter room. “In the meantime, the rest of my command crew is eagerly waiting to meet you.”

Tazna nodded as she walked beside the captain, her keen eyes taking in everything. “I look forward to it,” she said. She flicked a glance over her shoulder at her two crewmen who were deep in conversation with the Starfleet officers and lowered her voice. “Both Marin and Rynard are experts at assessing need, Captain. They will be able to give you a concise report on what you can find at Hearthstone to service both ship and crew should you wish to avail yourself of their talents.”

That explained why Tazna had chosen the ship’s engineer and her doctor to accompany her to this dinner. Janeway was once more put off by the presumption of it, but then, she was used to having to scratch and struggle for every bit of assistance … and that had been limited indeed … offered her in the Delta Quadrant. It was hard to remember how things had worked with the Federation; how things apparently worked here in the Beta Quadrant. Assistance, the exchange of ideas, a simple helping hand, were offered freely it seemed, without hidden strings or cost. She knew she should be grateful for that and try not to allow her experiences in the Delta Quadrant affect her dealings with these people.

“I’ll have them go over the ship with B’Elanna and our Doctor,” Janeway responded as they entered the mess hall which had been decorated to the best of their ability. A long buffet table lined one wall, heavy with a variety of dishes as various members of the crew partook of the bounty. But despite this, the cafeteria was clearly what it was and for the first time in a long while, Janeway profoundly regretted the loss of her private dining area which Neelix had annexed for his kitchen. That would normally have been the place for her to host guests such as the ones from the Confederation, an intimate dining experience rather than the utilitarian starkness of the crew’s mess and an informal buffet supper.

She swallowed her dismay and turned to Tazna, determined to stand tall with pride in her ship. “May I introduce the rest of my command crew,” she said, extending her hand to her people who were decked out in full dress uniform. “My first officer, Commander Chakotay, Lt. Tom Paris, our helmsman, and our operations officer, Ensign Harry Kim. This is our astrometrics officer, Seven of Nine, our Doctor, and the one responsible for this meal, Neelix.”

“Great Gnuex,” Marin exclaimed, circling the holographic doctor with intense fascination. “It’s not even real.”

“Politeness,” Tazna interjected warningly, her brows drawing down which did not intimidate her healer at all.

“I assure you ma’am,” the Doctor said stiffly with a foreboding frown. “I am quite capable of performing as this ship’s chief medical officer.”

“And does a fine job,” Janeway supported readily though she suspected she’d end up paying for that little boost to the Doctor’s already formidable ego. “Our original doctor was killed when we entered the Delta Quadrant, and circumstances forced our Emergency Medical Hologram to transcend his programming.”

“Incredible,” Marin said with honest appreciation. “So you’ve actually become sentient now.”

“I thought I always was,” the Doctor said with a touch of asperity.

Marin smiled. “Of course,” she said, moderating her tone. “You are most exceptional. Our holo technology is far below this.” He preened visibly.

Tazna smiled, leaning over slightly to the Federation captain. “I think they’ll get on fine,” she confided to Janeway.

“I’m sure,” the captain responded dryly. She flicked a glance over as Seven joined them along with Chakotay.

The first officer was clearly intrigued by the StarRunner’s First, extending his hand and taking Tazna’s in a warm grip. “It is indeed a great pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice a sort of warm purr that sparked Janeway’s amusement.

“The pleasure is mine,” Tazna responded, but it was with a detached politeness. Instead, the tall female’s attention was fully centered on Seven of Nine, regarding the slender blonde with utter captivation. She swiftly disengaged her hand from the first officer, and brushed past him to reach out to the Borg. Seven blinked, apparently thought about it, and responded by offering her own hand which Tazna promptly bowed over, brushing her lips lightly over the Borg’s knuckles.

“I am most enchanted to meet you,” she said, raising her eyes to meet Seven’s with deliberate regard, and it seemed her voice had dropped two octaves.

Janeway would have laughed at the expression that crossed Chakotay’s face, but for the fact she suspected her expression was somewhat similarly confounded. She could only watch in astonishment as Tazna promptly proceeded to monopolize the young Borg’s attention with grace and style, spiriting Seven away to the buffet table where she filled plates for them, keeping up a nonstop patter of compliments and charm.

“Don’t tell me she’s beat me out again,” Chakotay mumbled beside her. Janeway raised a brow at him and he lowered his eyes. “Sorry Captain,” he said with a half grin. “It gets a little tiresome to be attracted to someone, only to find Seven there before me.”

“This is not exactly Seven’s doing,” Janeway reminded, not bothering to ask where Seven had beaten him out before … for both their sakes. A tiny line furrowed her brow as she regarded the pair. It’s not like she’s objecting either, her little voice noted uncertainly. In fact, it kinda looks like our little Borg is enjoying the attention of that … taller, younger, incredibly good-looking starship captain.

Janeway shook her head slightly to get rid of that unwelcome thought and moved quickly towards where Tazna and Seven had positioned themselves away from the rest of the crew in a quiet corner. At a small, rather intimate table, she noted acidly. She smiled at them as she sat down without hesitation, displaying a bit too much teeth despite her best effort. “I’m very glad to see how well our crews are interacting,” she said brightly.

“Yes, Captain,” Tazna replied readily. If she were upset at the intrusion, she hid it well. “There are many similarities between our cultures. I look forward to forging a strong alliance between those of us in the Confederation with you from the Federation,” She turned her remarkable smile on Seven at that last bit and Janeway wondered how it was possible for Tazna to be surviving the laser-like glare the captain was focusing on her. “I hope that we can also arrange future visits on our ships. I, for one, would love to know what you think of our astrometrics department, Seven.”

Seven raised a brow. “I would be most interested to see it,” she replied evenly.

“Tomorrow morning, then,” Tazna replied quickly, then shot a look at Janeway. “With your permission, of course, Captain,” she added with a careless confidence.

Janeway carefully composed her features. Anything other than approval would be ungracious in the extreme, especially after the Beta Quadrant personnel had displayed nothing but a friendly readiness to assist, but she was hating every second of this. It occurred to her suddenly that Seven had never really been romanced by anyone before, particularly by someone who apparently was as skilled at it as the StarRunner’s First seemed to be. Janeway searched desperately for a way out of this quandary.

“Of course,” she said slowly. “I myself, would enjoy a tour of your vessel.” At least that way, she’d be present when Tazna was utilizing her wiles on the Borg, she reasoned, though what she intended to do to stymie it was still a mystery.

“Then I can expect your beam over tomorrow at 0800,” Tazna said with a smile. “I will personally conduct the tour, myself.” She favored Seven with a look of pure sensuality.

Giving Janeway an incredible urge to punch it right off the Elthanian’s face.

The Confederation Star Port Hearthstone hung jewel-like against the stardusted backdrop of space, constructed of a crystalline material which ranged through all shades of color, glittering in the refracted light of the stars like the most glorious of treasures. Silvery forms of light darted amongst the spiraled towers, ships in orbit, or in the process of docking. Clearly it was a busy and prosperous area of space, and in exchange for what Voyager would have given freely, Tazna had arranged a complete servicing of the Starfleet ship. As she had explained, the Confederation scientists found the Federation data chips a literal treasure trove of knowledge and discovery … the least the Confederation could do in return is to provide complete rest, repair and recreation facilities for them at their closest port.

Janeway knew she should be properly grateful and appreciative of the opportunity Voyager had fallen into. StarRunner and her crew had been nothing but the most gracious of hosts to the lost Federation vessel, and there had been a great many beamovers between the two starships while en route to the space station. The two crews mingled freely and were becoming quite friendly. The sight of an emerald uniform was a common occurrence on Voyager, as were the uniforms of Starfleet personnel traversing the corridors of StarRunner.

And one quite distinctive brown outfit.

Captain Kathryn Janeway sat in her command chair and stewed furiously over the fact that even now, Seven of Nine was not on board, choosing instead to observe docking procedures on the bridge of the Confederation ship. The few times Janeway had managed to see Seven in the past few days, either in the conference room or in astrometrics, they had been unable to discuss anything beyond the most minor of ship’s business. Seven gave absolutely no indication beyond a purely professional regard for StarRunner and its commander, but Janeway was all too aware of Tazna Jade’s interest in Seven.

Not that she could confide her disquiet to anyone else. Everyone who came in contact with the Confederation First raved about the woman’s wit and charm, full of admiration for the commander whose crew had been quite ready to reveal all sorts of stories about Tazna’s many accomplishments and exploits. Kathryn was completely unaware that her own crew had been just as quick to counter with their favorite ‘Janeway or no way’ tale. All she knew was that she seemed quite alone in her distaste for the intimidating female.

Just what could Janeway do about it anyway? Confront Tazna with her jealousy, inciting a physical confrontation with her? Hadn’t she just sentenced Seven to ten days of solitary confinement for doing exactly that to Chakotay? That was assuming the larger, more physically imposing woman wouldn’t promptly kick Janeway’s ass all over the ship.

Maybe she could forbid Seven to visit StarRunner? Janeway winced as she considered the complications that would arise from trying to explain that order. If Seven even obeyed it, which was highly unlikely. Seven’s stubbornness was, in its own way, as formidable as Janeway’s, and less prone to persuasion. The last thing she wanted was to initiate a confrontation with Seven.

This was becoming patently ridiculous. These feelings of jealousy and insecurity went against every ideal and principal Janeway believed in, both professionally and personally, not to mention how absolutely undignified it all was. Besides, Seven was a grown woman … perfectly capable of making her own decisions, even in the face of all that charm and flattery.

Don’t you trust her? her little voice nudged. Isn’t it what you demand from Seven?

I do trust Seven, Janeway responded to herself unconvincingly. It’s the too-damned-sexy-for-her-uniform Tazna Jade, I don’t trust.

“Captain, we’re being given instructions on docking procedure,” Harry said from his ops station, interrupting her bleak train of thought.

“Transmit to the helm,” she said quietly. “Bring us in, Tom.”

She watched as her ship entered the huge interior of the station’s cavernous maintenance bay, which already contained a multitude of other ships undergoing maintenance. Two small tugs darted out, attaching lines to Voyager’s hull, and with their guidance, the ship slid into her assigned berth with a slow gracefulness. Janeway could almost hear a sigh of weary relief from her cherished vessel as, for the first time in five years, Voyager was allowed to come to a complete rest, cradled in the space dock.

Once the dock had transmitted receipt of the vessel, the bridge crew began shutting down all non-essential systems and securing their boards. The ship was totally in B’Elanna’s hands now, the chief engineer responsible for supervising the station’s repair crews. The Doctor was coordinating with medical staff on the sickbay upgrades while Neelix was to arrange for the complete restocking of all food supplies. The rest of Voyager’s crew were off duty, expected to vacate the premises and relocate to the station, something they were not at all reluctant to do. StarRunner’s personnel had been extravagant in their praise of Hearthstone’s excellent shore leave facilities and all were looking forward to the first big vacation they had experienced in years.

Except for Janeway, of course. She toyed briefly with the idea of staying with the ship and helping out in engineering but realized she couldn’t; the memory of Torres’ expression of pride at being given this huge responsibility still fresh in her mind. It would be damaging for the captain to appear to be looking over the Klingon’s shoulder. The repairs that fully involved life support as well as the rest of the ship’s systems prevented her from just staying on board in her quarters and out of the way.

“So what have you planned this week?” Chakotay offered as they got up to leave the bridge. “A romantic getaway with Seven?”

Janeway looked sharply at him in the turbolift, decided he was being honestly curious and quelled her initial icy response. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I haven’t talked to Seven in a couple of days. I really don’t know what her plans are.”

“Oh,” he said, apparently realizing he had stepped in something he shouldn’t have. He stole another look at her as the turbolift deposited them on the deck leading to their respective quarters. “I understand that accommodations at one of the finer hotels on the station have been arranged for us,” he tried again. “Perhaps you and she will be able to find time for yourselves while we’re here.”

“Perhaps,” Janeway allowed noncommittally.

“In the meantime, can I offer you dinner tonight?” he offered gamely.

She regarded him, considering the offer carefully. Chakotay was her friend, and their relationship had developed into a marvelously layered and rich connection. There was no question that had circumstances been a little different, they could have easily been lovers. However, it hadn’t turned out that way and now with the introduction of Seven of Nine to the mix, they both knew it would never be. If the Borg saw them together dining together, what would her response be? Would the jealousy appear again, and take Seven’s mind off the insufferable Tazna Jade?

Janeway swiftly squelched that little idea. She didn’t play games like that, not in her past and certainly not now with a very inexperienced Seven. Besides, it would give Tazna Jade the perfect opportunity to comfort a hurt and confused young woman, her little voice prodded acidly. You be careful here, Katie. Don’t do anything stupid. Janeway decided that was the best advice she had given herself in a while.

“I would like that,” she said. “I’ll even invite Seven if I see her.”

“Of course,” he said, as if that had been a given. “I’m bringing Lt. James.”

Janeway shot him a surprised look. “Lt. James?” she said. “Angela James? The science officer?”

“There’s only one on the ship,” he said dryly, though his face darkened a little as the blood rose in his cheeks.

“Good officer,” Janeway allowed in a teasing tone as they stopped in front of door leading to the captain’s cabin. “Very pretty. Nice eyes. Great body.”

“Yeah, well, you have enough problems, Kathryn,” he responded, actually daring to tease her back in a low voice as the door hissed open. “Stick with blondes, why don’t you?”

Amused and somewhat startled at the banter, Janeway was actually laughing as she stepped into her quarters. Considerably cheered, she packed a small bag and made her way to transporter room where she met up with her first officer. They took their places on the pad and rematerialized on the station’s main promenade, her breath catching in her throat as they got their first good look at the station’s interior. Sheer astonishment froze them in place as they took in the mass of people moving through the area.

It made Janeway realize how long it had been since she had been exposed to this sort of thing. Though Voyager had a decent representation of different species, they were primarily Humanoid simply because the ship was designed that way. Even StarRunner had maintained the usual bipedal Humanoid representatives. Here, however, was a huge assortment of individuals, sporting breathing apparatuses, multiple limbs and barely recognizable sensory organs, walking, rolling and generally moving about in all manner of locomotive styles, providing a multi-colored agitated sea of beings flowing throughout the station’s main thoroughfare. From where the Voyager pair stood on the transporter dais in a fairly quiet nook of the upper walkway, they could see an array of marked and coded sections where multiple gravitational and atmospheric sections were maintained for the station’s clientele. But it was the sound that rolled over them, a vast conglomerate of noise, which threatened to overwhelm their universal translators and deafen them with its sheer volume and variety.

Janeway was absolutely tickled pink. Their encounters with alien races in the Delta Quadrant usually consisted of one or maybe two species at a time. She counted thirty-six separate and distinct lifeforms just from where she and Chakotay stood gawking. This was why she had joined Starfleet, she thought giddily. This crazy, confused, grand celebration of life in all its diversity all interacting in functional, if exceptionally loud harmony.

They belatedly became aware that they were holding up the proceedings as an individual in StarScout green cleared her throat and very politely motioned them off the platform. They hastened to obey, keeping close contact with each other as they scooted to the side of the walkway, leaning against the railing.

“StarRunner sent word that our hotel is three blocks from where we transport in,” Chakotay informed his captain, leaning next to her ear in order to be heard.

“Which way?” Janeway responded.

“Good question,” he grinned. “Let’s just pick a direction and if we don’t come across it, we’ll return here and try another.”

“I can’t think of a better plan at the moment,” Janeway offered dryly as they started to walk, easing into the flow of the crowd. “I wonder if the crew is ready for this. It’s been awhile since we’ve been exposed to this level of technology, or this density of species.”

“I’m sure the lecture we gave them did the job,” he reminded. “They’ll be on their best behavior. Most of them are teaming up with crewmembers from StarRunner to act as their guides so it’s not as if they’re being dropped in here completely on their own.”

“Right, so why didn’t we request a guide?” she asked as she avoided a swiftly moving blob on what looked like a wheelless skateboard.

“I didn’t think we needed one,” he admitted. “I am an Indian Scout after all.”

She eyed him skeptically, but as it turned out, there must have been something to his confidence because his first choice of direction had been totally correct. The amount of StarScout and Starfleet uniforms entering and exiting a set of large doors of a garishly decorated facility gave the pair their first clue that this was indeed, the hotel.

“Pure chance,” she noted pointedly as they entered the dignified quiet of the lobby, a marked contrast to the cacophony outside which left their ears ringing. Inside, she saw several of her crew who had already been transported ahead while Voyager had been docking.

“Skill,” he responded promptly.

“Captain, isn’t this incredible?” Harry Kim’s expression was one of total awe. Beside him, Tom Paris, cut loose by B’Elanna’s need to stay with the ship, rolled his eyes indulgently at his friend, but he was grinning as well. They were clearly on their way out.

“It’s very impressive,” she allowed with a smile. “Try not to get into too much trouble out there.”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Tom said. He threw his arm around the shoulders of a stocky Humanoid with a reddish mane and distinctly peaked ears, dressed in an emerald uniform. “Barrus here is gonna show us all the hot spots. He’ll keep us out of trouble.”

“I will not lead them astray, Captain Janeway,” StarRunner’s Pilot assured her earnestly.

“I’ll hold you all to that,” she said with a friendly smile. Why do these people all have to be so damned accommodating, she thought crankily. She watched as the trio joined another group of Voyager and StarRunner crewmembers and exited the hotel.

“Here’s your key,” Chakotay interrupted her train of thought. He handed her a transparent strip of some type of plastic that was almost invisible against the skin. “Wearing it will access the door. It’s specific to you.” He already had donned his.

“Where?” she said, wrapping it around her wrist as he had done.

“We’re on the fifth floor,” he responded. “Lift is this way.”

He escorted her to her room before leaving her to find his own. She regarded the door before her warily and stepped forward, a little startled when it dissolved completely. It was more like a force shield, she realized, than an actual solid barrier. Inside, she stopped and took in her surroundings.

It was positively sybaritic, three times the size of her quarters on Voyager, and decorated lavishly in cool blues and greens. The carpet was thick beneath her boots, and she identified the large device tucked neatly in a corner as a fully equipped replicator, a large menu on the wall above it displaying the many services provided by the hotel, including room service and a fashion line of clothing. A large basket of flowers and fruit stood on the table, courtesy of the management, welcoming their visitors from the Alpha Quadrant and informing her of the line of credit the Confederation Council had provided for their stay. It was quite considerable, and she wondered if the rest of her crew had been similarly treated. Good god, she’d never be able to get them out of here. With an aggravated snort, she strode through the main room into the bedroom.

Seven of Nine was stretched out on the gigantic bed, raised on an elbow as she studied a padd intently.

“Hello,” Janeway offered with some surprise as she paused in the doorframe, her bag dropping onto the floor by her feet, unnoticed.

Seven looked up. “Captain,” she greeted formally. “I requested that I be given access to your quarters while on the station.”

“Oh, you did,” Janeway said dryly, but she could not contain the sparkle that changed her eyes to their deepest blue. She put her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she regarded Seven. “I thought you found other interests to pursue.”

“Captain?” Seven raised an eyebrow.

“Where is Tazna Jade?” Janeway went on foolishly, knowing she was probably going to regret it.

“I do not know,” Seven said evenly, her pale eyes regarding Janeway with a perplexed expression. “Should I?”

Suddenly abashed, Janeway lowered her head and studied her boots. “I thought she would have arranged something for the pair of you,” she mumbled.

“Actually, she did,” Seven replied with her customary, devastating honesty, turning her attention back to the padd as she realized what Janeway had been asking, though she apparently did not attach any great significance to it. “She invited me to stay with her in the quarters she maintains on the station. I believe it was her intention to copulate with me.”

Janeway felt her heart drop to the lowest reaches of her inner self. “What did you do?” she asked, controlling her tone with the greatest of effort, face bleak.

Seven shrugged lightly. “I explained that you are the only one with whom I … ‘make love’,” Seven replied calmly, with utter disregard for the multitude of emotions raging in her captain only a few feet away. “The First seemed surprised, and wondered why I had not told her of our relationship prior to her offer. Yet, the topic had not come up until that discussion,” she added with a faint frown. She raised her eyes to Janeway’s expectantly, clearly wanting to have that explained to her. “Was I in error? Is it required that I inform others of our relationship immediately?”

Janeway’s lips twitched as she forced herself to resume breathing. “No, it’s not required,” she said, amazed at how even her voice was. “Certainly, I’ve requested that you’re to be discreet about us.”

Seven nodded with satisfaction. “Then I have conducted myself correctly. The Doctor feared I would not be able to interact successfully on a diplomatic level with the crew of the Confederation. I must inform him that he was wrong.” She seemed to relish the thought of setting the Doctor straight.

Janeway felt herself becoming lightheaded. Carefully she took a deep breath and walked over to the bed where she sat down next to Seven, curling one leg up under her. “Seven, I’ve been very stupid,” she said quietly.

Seven raised her head, meeting her eyes with a frown. “I do not think that term … ‘stupid’ should ever be applied to you, Captain,” she told her with mild reproof. “It implies a lack of intelligence. You are very intelligent.”

“I’d like to think I am,” Janeway said, resting her hand on Seven’s hip. “But not always where you’re concerned.”

She hesitated. Should she explain this? It was clear the Borg had no idea of what Janeway had been going through, any more than she had recognized that Tazna Jade had been trying to seduce her. Would this only complicate things? Janeway truly believed in honesty and it was something Seven offered the captain without hesitation. At the very least, Seven deserved the same respect.

She took a breath. “I’ve been feeling very jealous, Annika. I was afraid that you found Tazna Jade attractive. I was afraid that you wanted to be with her rather than with me.”

Seven blinked. “That is how I felt about Chakotay,” she allowed with considerable surprise, and then added, intensely curious. “Did you wish to strike her?”

Janeway’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “Oh, yes, Seven, many times,” she admitted. “However, punching her would have only made things difficult, and ultimately solved nothing. Being with me has to be your decision. I couldn’t make you want me if you really wanted to be with her.”

Seven stared at her for some time, brows lowered as she considered this. “I believe I am starting to understand,” she said slowly. “However, you told me that jealousy indicated a lack of trust. You do not trust me?”

“I didn’t trust Tazna Jade,” Janeway tried to explain. “You’re right, I guess I didn’t trust your feelings for me. That was wrong and I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”

Seven nodded. “Very well,” she agreed readily. She frowned, puzzled. “Tazna Jade also apologized for interfering with my relationship with you. I do not understand why. She did not affect my feelings for you in any way. I believe most individuals would have considered her offer appealing. I merely prefer to be with you.”

Janeway laughed ruefully and leaned forward, resting her weight on Seven’s reclined figure as she dipped her head to look into the ice blue eyes. “There is nothing ‘merely’ about that,” she said warmly. “It means the universe to me.”

Seven shifted onto her back, taking the captain into her arms as Janeway propped herself up on the Borg’s chest, sprawling over the blonde’s lanky form. “Please do not be afraid,” Seven said softly as she tossed the padd forgotten on the bed beside them. “Because I do love you as much as I am capable. It is, apparently, an ability that increases exponentially with each passing day.”

Janeway caught her breath. Seven had a way of saying things that could literally blind-side her with the sheer tenderness the words inspired. “I try not to be insecure, Seven,” Janeway replied in an equally soft voice, studying the fine features. “I guess it’s part of being Human.” She put her fingertip on Seven’s chin, tracing the dimple lightly. “As strong as we like to think we are, there’s always a part that’s afraid we don’t deserve the good things that happen to us … that we don’t deserve to be loved.”

“But you do deserve to be loved,” Seven responded with some dismay. “You are the only one worthy of my consideration as a lifemate. You are courageous and wise and kind and beautiful. I have told you this on many occasions.”

“Yes, you have.” Janeway smiled. “But Tazna is all those things as well. Not to mention, taller, stronger and younger than I am. Logic dictates that you would be more attracted to her than to me.”

Seven considered that for a moment. “Logically, you are correct, that is exactly what should have happened,” Seven allowed uncertainly. “However, it did not.” She frowned slightly. “I was not attracted to her at all, therefore I must conclude that love is not very logical.”

“No, it isn’t,” Janeway replied evenly, regarding her with full eyes.

Seven studied her intently. “I am glad love is not logical.”

“So am I.”

“Is that why Tuvok is so uncomfortable when discussing it?”

Janeway laughed. “That’s one reason,” she said, “but I think if he were Human, he still would be uncomfortable talking about it. He’s just that sort of man.” She reached up and stroked Seven’s cheek gently, idly observing the smooth skin beneath her fingers. “He is probably less interested in the love lives of others than anyone on the ship.”

“I regret having caused him discomfort.”

“He’ll get over it,” Janeway smiled. Then added as she remembered suddenly. “Chakotay has invited us to dinner.”

“When?” Seven eyed her curiously.

“Tonight, in about four hours.”

“That allows plenty of time, then.”

Janeway felt the corners of her mouth quirk up. “Plenty of time for what? For you to finish what you were working on when I came in?”

Seven considered that, regarding her intently with keen eyes. “You are being facetious,” she decided finally. “I believe you know exactly to what I was referring.”

Janeway smiled fully then, crinkling her nose. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Seven’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I would prefer to show you.”

“That would be acceptable too.” Janeway caught her breath as Seven turned them over, pinning her to the bed. “Ahh, Seven, that padd … I’m lying on it.”

“My apologies, Kathryn.” Seven fished out the offending device and dropping it on the floor. “Better?”

“Much,” Janeway informed her, sliding her arms around Seven’s neck, reaching up to undo the pinnings of the bun, allowing the blond hair to fall freely about her face. “What were you working on, anyway?” she asked idly, as she ran her fingers through the fine strands with languid pleasure.

“The wormhole,” Seven said. “The Confederation intends to destroy it.” She brushed her lips over Janeway’s chin, and then covered the captain’s mouth with her own, kissing her deeply.

The confusion and strong emotions Janeway had been experiencing lately, not to mention Seven’s intoxicating kiss, kept the words from completely sinking in for a full minute. She freed herself from the full lips only with difficulty. “What did you say? They’re going to destroy the wormhole?”

“Yes,” Seven replied, somewhat startled at the reaction. “They are concerned about the Borg Collective using it to enter the Beta Quadrant, and they do not feel they are prepared to handle such an invasion. They intend to detonate two quantum torpedoes at either end of the anomaly. I am assisting in determining what yield will be necessary to close off the wormhole.”

“When are they planning on doing this?” Janeway asked, voice clipped, pushing Seven off her and sitting up angrily.

“In twelve days time,” Seven said, lying on her side as she looked up at Janeway.

“When was I to be informed about all this?” Janeway said, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head to glare at Seven.

“Is that necessary?” Seven asked reasonably. “They do not require your permission to protect themselves.”

“So they intend to keep us here.”

“I do not believe so, ” Seven asked, her eyes becoming disturbed as she picked up on the captain’s agitation. “The work on Voyager is to be completed in seven days. I am sure that if you ask, they will extend the deadline for its destruction until we are prepared to leave.”

“Of course they will,” Janeway said with deep sarcasm. “Why didn’t you come to me with this?”

Seven raised her chin a little, her features showing that she had been stung by the tone in the captain’s voice, but her voice remained calm. “I just did,” she explained patiently. “This is the first time I have seen you in two days. All recent requests for you to meet with Tazna were refused because you indicated you were too busy.”

Stymied by that little bit of truth, Janeway was nonetheless still furious. She stood up, pacing about the room with agitated steps. She felt like Seven and Tazna Jade had done this behind her back, had engaged in some conspiracy to keep her in the dark until it was too late. She took long deep breaths, trying to calm herself, applying an iron grip over her swirling emotions, fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Why are you so angry?” Seven asked, sitting up as she watched her.

Janeway felt her jaw firm, her back teeth grinding together. “I cannot believe that once again, I allowed my personal life to interfere with my command,” she said with icy disgust. “This is completely unacceptable.”

An expression of great alarm crossed Seven’s face. “Do you intend to stop loving me?” she asked in a small voice.

You stop this, Katie Janeway’s little voice hammered at her. Right now. You’re blowing it completely out of proportion. Worse, you’re scaring Seven.

Janeway turned her head, feeling the anger drain away instantly as she took in the expression on Seven’s face. “Never,” she reassured in a gentler tone. “Oh, Annika. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I believe you,” Seven responded uneasily, confusion reigning in her fine features.

“Oh god,” Janeway sighed, and went over to the bed, forcing herself to lay back down beside the blonde, wrapping her arms around Seven and resting her head on her shoulder. “You’re right, Seven, they don’t need my permission to carry out whatever actions they deem necessary to protect themselves,” she said with difficulty. “I know they have no intention of trapping us here.”

She really had to take better control of things, Janeway thought dismally. Seven was doing her level best to make all the right moves in the relationship, and it was the older and supposedly wiser captain that kept finding ways to complicate things. The worst part about it all was that Janeway absolutely detested inconsistency in a relationship. Her very first love affair with Cheb Packer had been like that, on again, off again, breaking up over inconsequential things before getting back together. She had allowed his youth and insecurities to cause her more pain and anguish than had really been necessary. To be the one creating the same confusion and uneasiness in Seven now was intolerable. When Seven made a mistake, it was from sheer innocence, an unfamiliarity with the Human condition. Janeway didn’t have that excuse and it both humiliated and confounded her.

Even now, Seven seemed the mature one, remaining quiet as she held Janeway in a loose embrace, allowing her the chance to work things out, waiting patiently for Janeway to explain what was going on instead of reacting with anger or resentment as would practically anyone else. Seven accepted the captain completely for who she was. No one had ever trusted in Janeway that much before, had ever loved her that much in her life. It was time she stopped taking that for granted. It was time she stopped pushing Seven away on one level as she tried to demand more of her on another.

“Seven, I know I’m not perfect,” she said softly after a long while, turning her head to look into the pale blue eyes. “You remind me how difficult it is to understand people, to cut through the confusion and misdirection we generate without even trying. Even when I make all sorts of mistakes with you, you love me enough to stick with me. I know that no matter what else happens, I’m going to be a much better human being for loving you … and for being loved by you. I’m sorry if it appeared as if I were angry at you. I think I’ve tried too hard to separate my being a captain from being in love with you. Both are integral parts of who I am, and it’s time I started accepting that. I belong to Voyager … but I belong just as much to you.”

Seven regarded her evenly. “What does this mean?”

Janeway shook her head. “I’m not really sure in terms of our professional relationship, but I do know what I want to do now with regards to our personal one.”

“Make love?” Seven offered hopefully, eyes brightening.

Janeway laughed. “Well, that too,” she promised. “I mean beyond today. I want you to think about moving into my quarters with me, Seven.”

Seven contemplated that for a moment. “Live with you?” she requested. “Rather than in cargo bay two?”

“Yes,” Janeway said, firmer as the idea solidified in her mind. She sat up and regarded the young woman intently and then, because Seven still looked somewhat confused, she suddenly rolled off the bed, kneeling beside it on one knee, looking up at Seven beseechingly. “I want to share every day with you, Annika. Please, live with me?”

Seven sat up, regarding her curiously from her perch on the bed. “Why are you on the floor?”

Janeway realized she didn’t know, but tried to come up with a response anyway. “Because … I want to impress upon you how sincere I am about elevating our relationship to the next level, which living together will do.”

Seven was clearly intrigued by this, getting off the bed to join Janeway on the carpet, crouching next to her on her hands and knees. “Is kneeling on the floor part of elevating our relationship?” she wanted to know, looking at her anxiously. “At what stage is it at now?”

“I suppose I deserve this,” Janeway muttered. She sighed. “It is a monogamous one, darling,” Janeway said. She eyed Seven carefully. “You might want to consider it a probation period prior to engagement. You may not want to move into the next stage after you’ve had to live with me for awhile.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “Indeed,” she said coolly. A brief pause as she considered this. “Why not?”

“I don’t think I’m the easiest person to live with, Seven,” Janeway said, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on. This had seemed like such a good idea when the impulse had struck her, now she sensed that she was losing her audience. “Annika, I’ve never lived with anyone before.”

Seven blinked. “Not even … Mark?”

“Not even Mark,” Janeway replied honestly.

Seven hesitated, then got up and sat formally on the side of the bed, knees together, hands folded primly on her lap, obviously willing to at least hear the captain out. Janeway remained where she was, but shifted knees, forcing herself to ignore the padd that had somehow ended up under it, and took Seven’s right hand in hers, clasping it tightly. She looked deeply into the blonde’s ice blue eyes.

“Annika, my love,” she tried again with great sincerity. “Will you share my quarters?”

Seven studied her face intently. “Yes, I will,” she said firmly. An expectant hesitation. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Janeway took a breath. In truth, this bit had escaped her in her impulsive leap into this grand romantic gesture. “Probably at this point, I should offer you a token of my love.” She bit her lip at Seven’s interested expression. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t fully prepared for this, so I have no tokens to give.”

“Oh,” Seven said. She tried not to look disappointed. She did not quite succeed.

“However, I promise I will give you some kind of personal ornament to signify my commitment to you,” Janeway added hastily. She offered a smile. “We’re not just lovers, now, Annika, we’re … partners.”

That did get Seven’s attention. “Indeed?” Her eyes took on that glow and Janeway stopped feeling so silly and started feeling a whole lot happier that she had followed her impulse. Especially when Seven slipped off the bed once more to kneel before her and wrap her arms around her, kissing her sweetly. With deceptive ease, the Borg then lifted them both up until they were once more on the bed, falling backwards so that the captain landed snugly on top of her.

“You’re becoming so much better at that,” Janeway told her when Seven finally relinquished the kiss, looking down with a wry grin.

“Improved reading material,” Seven informed her. “I wish to make love to you now, Kathryn.” She frowned suddenly with some concern. “Is it required that we refrain until after a formal ceremony? Tuvok mentioned that certain cultures demand celibacy until that time.”

“Definitely not,” Janeway told her seriously. “This will no doubt be a long courtship, and not making love for its duration would be totally unacceptable.”

Seven sighed with what seemed relief. “I concur,” she said, and kissed her.

“You know,” Janeway said conversationally as Seven wormed her hands under the captain’s uniform, releasing the fastenings, and pulling off the tunic. “We should take a bath together.”

Seven paused in her efforts to get the captain undressed. “‘A bath’,” she said skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

Janeway smiled. “Yes, Seven, a bath.”

“Are there facilities for such an activity?”

“No hotel worth its salt would go without a place for its patrons to bathe,” Janeway explained. “Come on.”

She wiggled out of Seven’s embrace and rose to her feet where she reached down and entwined her fingers in the Borg’s. “I know you’ve probably never had a bath before.” She frowned suddenly. “Your implants won’t be damaged by immersion in water, will they?” Though they had showered together previously, in both the sonic and hydro methods, apparently bathing was a somewhat different proposition.

Seven shook her head, allowing the captain to pull her off the bed and lead her into the large ensuite. “It would be inefficient if the Borg rusted,” she offered helpfully.

Startled by the comment, Janeway laughed. The laugh trailed off as she took in the sight of the extremely large and luxurious round whirlpool tub dominating the whole of the ensuite.

“Oh my,” she said with real appreciation.

She studied the controls set in the wall briefly before manipulating them with competent assurance. Soon water, or something acceptably close to water, was gushing freely from openings in the sides of the tub, steam billowing into the room as the captain adjusted temperature with care, programming the proper depth. Above her, a vast selection of bathing accessories were arrayed on decorative shelves and with the skill of a master chemist, Janeway poured from the assortment of provided bath oils with careful judiciousness, creating a thick mass of bubbles that gave off a woodsy, refreshing fragrance. From the broad smile on the captain’s face, the Borg could tell that this was quite pleasing to her.

Seven raised an intrigued eyebrow as the captain pulled her sweater off over her head, taking that as an indication that it was permissible to return to what they had initiated out in the bedroom, and she reached out to her lover, pulling her into her arms, kissing her soundly.

“It is better in water?” she asked curiously between kisses and the removal of the rest of the captain’s uniform that was tossed negligently in the corner.

“Not necessarily better,” Janeway explained, as she helped Seven get rid of her own outfit, leaving them both nude in the damp heat filling the room. “Just different.” She gently pulled away from the embrace, stepping into the tub where she settled into the hot water and bubbles with an expression of pure bliss. She reached up to the younger woman with a beckoning gesture. “Come on in,” she smiled, her voice deepening. “The water’s fine.”

Gingerly, Seven mimicked her movements at the other end of the tub, waiting expectantly for Janeway to show her what to do next. Finding several sponges on the shelf above them, Janeway wet one and began to soap Seven all over, the younger woman content to allow the captain to take the lead.

“This is…interesting,” the Borg said after a few moments.

“Only interesting?” Janeway queried in that tone that let Seven know she was being teased gently.

“Stimulating,” Seven clarified.

Janeway laughed. “Stimulating is good,” she said huskily. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Seven agreed readily. She retrieved a sponge for herself and began to return the caresses, very gentle as she ran the cloth over the captain. She concentrated hard on the way Janeway’s skin turned a delicate rose in the heat, and just how wonderfully enticing it was to watch the water spill over the firm body, how the suds slipped slick over the curves and nooks.

“Lean back,” Janeway instructed quietly. Seven met her eyes curiously but did as asked, fitting her back to the smooth surface behind her. Kathryn turned around, and slid backward until she was against Seven’s front, leaning back on the younger woman. Seven wrapped her arms around her, resuming her use of the sponge with a new appreciation.

“I like this,” Seven noted, taking the opportunity to breath in the delicate scent of the captain’s hair. “My access to you seems augmented.”

“Access is also good,” Janeway noted, sighing happily and snuggling closer to the blond as Seven smoothed the sponge over the captain’s chest and belly with long, languorous strokes.

Seven occupied herself for sometime like this until deciding to shift the sponge to her left hand so she could use her right to rub her fingers over Kathryn’s nipples, trying to grasp them and unable to because of the soapiness. Intrigued by this difficulty, Seven dropped the sponge and made the attempt with both hands, the analytical part of her mind mesmerized by the removal of the friction coefficient, concentrating completely on the physics of soap against skin. The captain began to moan and writhe sinuously against her, resting her hands on Seven’s thighs which encircled the smaller woman’s hips and the Borg could suddenly feel the captain’s fingernails dig into her gently, sending tingles of pleasure up and down her legs.

As Seven kissed along the smooth skin of the captain’s neck, Janeway threw her head back to rest on the Borg’s shoulder, exposing the fine line of her throat. Seven was amazed at how wonderful it felt making love in this medium and she began to understand what Janeway had meant about the differences. She realized that the water limited certain body-on-body positionings … one could easily drown … but this was quite pleasurable in its own way. Nor had she ever made love to Janeway from behind like this before. She could see it could be applied quite easily out of the water as well but for now, all this wetness added a most intriguing dimension to the process.

“Annika … mmmm … you’re so wonderful to me,” the captain breathed after a time, seemingly content to lay back and surrender utterly to whatever Seven wanted to do.

Seven knew her lover adored this special attention being lavished upon her breasts, loved having them played with and caressed for long periods of time. Sometimes Seven was even able to trigger a climax in Janeway simply by doing this, and from the way the captain was shuddering now, her hands gripping Seven’s thighs tightly, the Borg knew that her lover was close. With a renewed determination, Seven finally managed to capture the nipples between her fingers and with gentle pressure, squeezed in the correct manner even as she bent her head to nip carefully at Janeway’s throat, feeling the cry that vibrated beneath her lips. The water rose in a sudden surge as the captain’s hips spasmed beneath the surface, sending the wave to crest against the far end of the tub, splashing and cascading over the edge to splatter on the floor.

“I love you,” Seven said softly against her ear, releasing her hold on one breast to slide her hand over the flat belly, stroking her in soothing circles as the captain’s head lolled back on her shoulder. She continued to cup the captain’s left breast tenderly, comfortingly now, her thumb gently rubbing over the hard nub, feeling the way the skin pebbled under the cool metal of her implant.

She increased the circumference of her circling, dipping lower with her right hand to stroke through the fine strands of hair, so soft and fleeting in the water, slipping easily into the crease and the abundant viscous moisture there, surprised to find such a clear distinction in the fluidity of the environment, easily identifying what was Kathryn and what was the watery medium they were in. Fascinated, Seven explored this further, fingers moving over the small center of hardness which was still extremely sensitive from the first climax, causing Janeway to cry out from deep in her chest. Seven gentled her motion, stroking with light pressure as the captain pressed her whole weight back against her.

“Yes … Annika … that feels so good,” she murmured. “Please, go inside … darling, can you put your fingers in me…..”

“Soon,” Seven promised.

She continuied to swirl her fingers gently about the sensitive folds, paying close attention to the captain’s respiration and the sounds she made in the back of her throat. With practiced timing, she judged the way Janeway’s hips undulated against her fingers, the restless, halting motion of the captain’s hands as they moved on Seven’s thighs, sliding up and down, gripping them now and again. Then, only when it felt right to her, Seven slipped two fingers into her, firmly thrusting into the tight opening, stroking fully and deeply inside her lover as the captain cried out and arched up against her. She dropped her other hand from the breast to take up the caress of Janeway’s hard little center, utilizing great care with the metal encased fingertips.

“Unhh … oh god … Annika…..” Janeway rose up, tensing her entire body before falling back to climax again and again around the skilled elegant fingers that knew her so intimately, and loved her so well. Seven braced herself against the tub, keeping the captain’s head above the surface as she kept her spasming helplessly until finally the captain collapsed weakly against her, unable to respond any further to her lover. Slowly, Seven withdrew her fingers, tenderly, smoothing over Janeway, up along her belly and sides … cradling her sated and spent lover with strong and loving arms

For a long time, Seven held her as the water cooled around them. Her need was sharp within her, but contained, knowing that Janeway would take care of her eventually. In the meantime, it was enough to hold the captain in her arms, breathing in the soft fragrance of her hair, nuzzling the line of neck and jaw gently. Janeway turned her head, and Seven leaned forward, kissing her gently on the mouth, a benediction and affirming kiss of love and joy.

The captain swallowed hard, her throat pulsating as she rested her head on Seven’s chest. “I wish I had the words to tell you how incredible you are,” she said huskily. “To make you believe how well you love me.”

“It is you who is incredible,” Seven responded gently. Softly she stroked along the line of collarbone, and down the captain’s arms, featherlight caresses that slid over the skin with barely felt pressure before wrapping her arms around Janeway’s chest, pulling her tightly against her.

Janeway hugged her. “Come on,” she suggested huskily. “The water’s getting cold, and I really want you on that wonderful big bed out there.”

“I enjoyed our bath,” Seven informed her as they got out of the tub and dried each other off with the large fluffy towels.

The captain rubbed the cloth gently over Seven’s back and shoulders, soaking up the beads of water. “I’m glad. I certainly don’t want it to be our last one together. You know, we have a wonderful tub in our quarters on Voyager.” The phrasing of that, the acknowledgment of shared territorial perogative, created a warm spot within the Borg, and the look Janeway gave Seven, the sheer desire and wanting, threatened to immolate the younger woman right where she stood. Gently, the captain took her hand and led her into the bedroom and over to the bed where she pressed her down on to the smooth multi-colored bedspread.

Seven stretched out on her back as Janeway straddled her, rising above her like a goddess of Human myth. She looked up at her lover, eyes dark with longing and need, memorizing her, absorbing her. “I love you so much,” she told her, reaching up to stroke the woman’s cheek gently.

Janeway smiled once more, taking the wrist in a strong hand. She kissed the palm gently then captured Seven’s other wrist and pinned them both above the Borg’s head. “I know you do,” she responded softly, bending over her, her lips a mere breath away from Seven’s. “I love you too. With all my heart.”

She kissed her passionately, and Seven closed her eyes, surrendering fully to the heated promise in the kiss, to the soft strength in the small body resting on hers. From the moment this woman had stood before her on the Borg cube, there was never any doubt in her mind that Janeway was not a typical representative of her species. Despite all they had been through, their conflicts and clashes and confusion, the amazing moments of shared clarity, of complete understanding, and undeniable attraction, Seven knew without question that Janeway’s was a spirit, an indomitable force, that could not be controlled or suppressed or constrained in any fashion. That she would allow a mere drone to love her was something Seven could barely understand. That Janeway would return the drone’s love … it was almost beyond comprehending.

Seven never ceased to wonder at this woman, at this assemblage of contradictions who was her lover … who was her captain. A small, almost fragile Human female whose personality commanded whatever situation she was in, who could utterly decimate a person with a mere glare from those steel grey eyes, or cause them to transcend all they were capable of with a gaze of brightest blue; level eyes that could radiate compassion and loving warmth as easily as the cold, implacable promise of destruction. Then, there was the voice, that most wonderful voice, one which could project above the noise of destruction and battle, reaching out and eliminating fear, filling a crew with a determination and the belief that anything was possible. It could strike dread into the heart of those who would threaten or oppose all she held dear, or could surround this one heart, caressing, sending chills down the spine, whispering hotly in the lowest of tones, inciting the most ecstatic of responses in someone most considered the ultimate of ice queens.

She moaned softly as Janeway trailed her lips over her chin and jaw, down the long line of throat where she felt the strong mouth suck gently at the small hollow at the base. Janeway’s lips did things to her, amazing things, things beyond comprehension. Sometimes Seven thought she would expire from the sheer intensity of it. She felt her wrists being released, though she left them where they were, as if secured forever to the bed, while the captain ran her fingertips freely over Seven’s arms, stroking along her shoulders and over the rest of her body. Those hands were structural wonders, capable of the most delicate of touches yet commanding as well, with a firm strength that was far out of proportion to the slender, fine bone and tendons that constructed them. The rest of Janeway, so soft … smooth and warm … complete in her form, ideally created. Beautiful. Individual. This One above all others.

“Kathryn,” she moaned her lover’s … her partner’s … name, tasted it lovingly as the woman moved over her with adeptness, using the wondrous mouth to explore her completely, pleasuring her with complete and utter skill. Consuming her with fire and desire.

“Kathryn,” she cried out softly as hands and fingertips stroked her, demanding and sure, knowing, hard and gentle at the same time, steel covered in velvet. Powerful hands that held her, restrained her, comforted and cradled her. Loved her completely.

“Kathryn,” she screamed as the sensation took her, overwhelmed her, swept over her in wave after wave, spasms of pleasure turning her into nothing more than a mere organism incapable of anything beyond what she felt, what she was experiencing.

“Kathryn,” she whispered afterward, softly, yearningly, lying in her arms, clinging to her as if afraid to let go, needing nothing more than to be here with her, to love her and be loved by her.

She had strived for it all her existence as a Borg, achieved it only in the most Human of ways in these moments of blissful satisfaction. With Kathryn. With her love.

Perfection.

Seven raised an eyebrow as Janeway came out of the bathroom dressed in a long, slinky sapphire number that set off her eyes and made the reddish highlights in her hair seem as if they were on fire. The Borg had been sitting on the side of the bed, waiting patiently as Janeway prepared herself for the evening, aware the captain was going to find something ‘a little more appropriate’ for this type of dinner. Janeway had utilized the hotel replicator with an abandon that was totally uncharacteristic of her, but from the expression on the Borg’s face, had been completely worth it.

“You are … you look….” Seven started, paused and looked at her with bright eyes. “You are unbelievably exquisite,” she finally managed as she stood up.

Janeway smiled, touched more by these words than she cared to let on. “My, your compliments have improved dramatically,” she noted teasingly, resting a hand on Seven’s arm. “I suppose you picked that up from StarRunner’s First … not that I’m complaining, mind you.” She regarded her with appreciative eyes. “I see I’m not the only one with a new look. When did you get that?”

“It is a look I have been contemplating for some time,” Seven admitted, ducking her head somewhat shyly. “Do you like it?”

“Very much so,” Janeway said, standing back a little to take her companion in.

Instead of her normal brown outfit, Seven had donned one of a deep raven-black color, sleek with a less mesh-like quality and more silken as her first silver suit had been. Her neckline continued its downward trend, leaving her throat bare, the collar a tiny ‘V’ which stopped midway down her breastbone. Her heels had been shortened, bringing her down to a more manageable level for the captain to look her in the eyes.

“The replicator suggested its functionality,” Seven explained, “but I was able to contribute to its … aesthetic properties.”

“Which proves that you have better taste than the designer did,” Janeway said dryly. She ran her fingertips along the line of Seven’s right shoulder, then rested her hand on the bicep feeling the warmth and fine strength penetrating the thin material, the faint hardness of starburst implant. “It also is more Starfleet-like,” the captain noted with professional approval. She smiled up at Seven winningly. “It will be a great deal more suitable for your gift.”

“‘Gift’?” Seven raised an eyebrow curiously.

Janeway offered her a rectangular box, watching closely as the Borg took it gingerly, enjoying the way her eyes lit up. “It’s my token, darling. I had B’Elanna dig it out of my quarters and beam it down.”

Seven looked at her, then down at the box, studying it carefully. She discovered the tiny latch, used her thumb to release it and lifted the cover back to reveal a whisper fine gold chain and a small reddish stone. Seven regarded it for long moments, then raised her gaze to meet Janeway’s who was a little apprehensive, unsure about how her lover would receive the gift.

“It is beautiful,” Seven said huskily.

Janeway smiled, a little wistfully. “I’m glad you like it. It was given to me by my father a very long time ago. I think he would be pleased to know I have passed it on to someone I cherish. The stone is from Mars, which is the fourth planet in Earth’s system. It has a certain significance to me that I can explain later if you like.”

“I will … appreciate it … always,” Seven said slowly. She swallowed hard. “I have nothing for you.”

Janeway carefully took the necklace from the box and lifted it around Seven’s neck, fastening it securely before resting her hands on Seven’s upper chest and looking deep into the ice blue eyes. “Seven,” she said seriously. “In this place of loneliness, where I believed I couldn’t afford to get close to anyone, you taught me how to love again. People think I gave you back your Humanity when in truth, it is you who gave me back mine. That is a far greater gift than anyone else has ever given me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it.”

Seven thought about that intently. “You are welcome,” she whispered then added immediately with some dismay. “Those words are inadequate.”

“No, Seven,” Janeway assured softly. “They are more than adequate.” She slid her arms about Seven’s waist and rested her forehead against Seven’s chin, closing her eyes. “I love you.”

Seven held her tightly, and Janeway became aware of the tears only when the moisture splashed onto her head. Surprised, she felt the woman trembling against her and she looked up to see Seven’s eyes were closed tightly, tears sliding gently down her alabaster cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to make you unhappy,” the captain said with dismay, brushing the tears away as Seven shook her head slightly.

“I am not unhappy,” the Borg replied in a low voice. “I do not know how to express these feelings. There is so much emotion … it fills me, this love for you. I do not know how to feel so much and still function.”

Janeway smiled. “Annika, you function just fine,” she confided, kissing Seven gently on the chin. “Sometimes I feel that you are more Human than anyone I have ever met just because you allow yourself to be.” She tenderly dried the last of Seven’s tears and drew her down for a final kiss as she heard the chime at the door. “That’s Chakotay and his date,” she said. “Let’s go.”

If Lt. James was intimidated by the company she was now keeping, she hid it well, more than holding her own in their conversation on the way to the restaurant. Janeway was impressed by her quick humor as well as the sharp mind, and it was clear that Chakotay was quite intrigued by her. Perhaps this would be a good relationship, the captain thought idly as they entered the restaurant.

Her face hardened as she took in the sight of Tazna Jade sitting at a table with her Healer, Marin. StarRunner’s First stood up and motioned them over, inviting them to sit. Janeway exchanged an ironic glance with Chakotay, who grinned faintly, and she tried to remember that she was representing the Federation. Not to mention the fact that Seven was at her side, well within her personal space, hand resting inconspicuously but distinctly on her captain’s elbow. Janeway decided that she could afford to be gracious. Besides, that was probably the best table in the place, and she really did want to find out more about the Confederation bombing the wormhole.

“Captain?” Chakotay queried, leaving it up to her.

“Let’s join them,” Janeway said dryly.

“Captain, you honor us with your presence,” Tazna said as they sat. Janeway noted that the First was a trifle flustered when she looked in Seven’s direction, and she found herself perversely amused by that. Really, what was it about the woman that seemed to bring out the worst in her? Was it that she seemed to have all of Janeway’s best attributes, and was younger, taller and sexier to boot? At least in Janeway’s eyes.

But not in Seven’s, her little voice pointed out. You keep that firmly in mind, Katie. Who did she choose to be with after all?

“Thank you, Tazna,” Janeway responded. She nodded at Lt. James. “You know Chakotay. This is Lt. Angela James, one of my science officers.”

Tazna smiled and nodded at the young woman then turned her attention to Seven of Nine. “You look lovely, Seven,” the Confederate First said warmly. “That is a very good look for you.”

Seven dipped her head politely. “Thank you,” she said evenly. “I wore it for my captain.”

Tazna met Janeway’s eyes with a rueful stare. “Your captain is a most fortunate individual.”

Janeway wondered if she looked as inappropriately triumphant as she felt. She really hoped not. It would be so gauche. “So,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. “What’s all this about you destroying the wormhole?”

Janeway was aware of Chakotay’s startled look, and Lt. James looking on with wide eyes, but she kept her eyes locked with Tazna’s who regarded her respectfully.

“I thought that would come to your attention,” she responded. “The revelation of the Borg Collective, not to mention the other species Voyager has encountered in the Delta Quadrant; the Vidiians, the Hirogen and others, offer a very real and possible threat to the Confederacy should any of them choose to invade. Since there’s no real need for us to travel in the Delta Quadrant, it’s been decided by the Confederation Council to remove the passage into our space.” She eyed Janeway warily. “I did attempt to speak with you about this when the decision came down two days ago.”

Janeway refused to lower her eyes or let on in any way that it was her fault. “I was occupied,” she said coolly. “In any event, I know now and I would like to be informed how this affects my ship and my crew.”

Tazna shrugged lightly, holding out her hands. “I fail to see how it affects you at all,” she replied. “The destruction will not occur for twelve days and since the station’s engineers have predicted they will be completed with Voyager in seven, you have plenty of time to leave before the passage is shut off forever. Even if there is an unforeseen delay in the schedule, I assure you we would not trap you here. The removal of the wormhole can easily be pushed back.”

“That never crossed my mind,” Janeway responded smoothly if a bit untruthfully. “I just have an aversion to destroying passages which can open up new vistas to anyone. It offends the scientist in me … and the explorer.”

Tazna nodded. “In truth, I am concerned as well,” she allowed in agreement. “But the Council is not populated by explorers such as we, Captain, nor is the Confederation as a whole. For the most part, people are comfortable in their security, and they do not wish it threatened in any way. The Council must bow to the will of the majority, and the StarScouts bow to the will of the Council.”

“One can’t argue with that,” Chakotay offered. Both Tazna and Janeway looked at him oddly, and confronted with a double dose of the ‘command’ glare, he immediately subsided.

“Which leads you to a most difficult decision, Captain,” Tazna added. “I am aware that certain of your crew are entertaining the idea of possibly making this a home. They would certainly be welcome here as our space is expanding quicker than we StarScouts can cover it. Any available qualified crewmember would be quickly snapped up by our ships or stations. In fact, many ships are starting to jockey for position, coming up with recruitment incentives.” She favored Janeway with an evaluating look. “There’s no question in my mind that you, yourself would fit easily into our structure, as a full First with your choice of vessels, one much larger than Voyager.”

“I am quite happy with being a Starfleet captain,” Janeway responded truthfully, flattered in spite of herself. “And with my ship. I have no real interest in staying, though I appreciate that your culture would be an agreeable one in which to live and work.”

Tazna regarded her appraisingly. “What of your crew?” she asked. “Will you leave those who wish to stay?”

“If that’s their choice,” Janeway allowed, refusing to rise to the bait.

“How many can Voyager lose before she cannot function?” Tazna tilted her head quizzically. “Forty … fifty?”

“I doubt it will come to that,” Janeway responded, her eyes indicating that this topic had just about been exhausted.

Tazna nodded briefly in acknowledgment, accepting the captain’s wish to end this line of discussion. “In any event, it’s not anything that need be decided this night,” she allowed. She favored the rest with a warm smile. “Might I recommend the house special. The food here is quite delicious, if a bit spicy.”

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and with Tazna no longer a factor to worry about in terms of a rival, nor able to do anything about her crew being approached with job offers, Janeway could only accept the inevitable and relax, granting herself permission to enjoy the evening. The meal was fabulous, probably the best the Federation crew had experienced in some time, and afterward, there was dancing out on a terrace that overlooked a section of the station’s hull, constructed with a transparent crystal revealing an amazing view of gleaming towers, and the deep black of space. Janeway, to whom dancing was a skill she had acquired and enjoyed at a very early age, but had little opportunity to indulge in over the past years, was quick to drag the startled Seven onto the dance floor. The captain kept it very simple, and it wasn’t long before the young woman had picked up the steps, able to follow Janeway’s lead.

“I think you’ll make a fine dancer,” Janeway informed her with a smile as they swayed together. She raised an eyebrow as Chakotay swept by with Lt. James in his arms. They really did make an attractive couple, she noted fondly.

“Is that something I should strive for?” Seven asked as she concentrated on her partner closely.

The captain adjusted her hands on the taller woman’s shoulders, indicating that Seven should lead which the Borg did, hesitantly at first, and then with greater assurance. “It could be something you can enjoy,” Janeway explained patiently. “Dancing should be done purely for the sake of doing it. Being skilled at it merely enhances the experience. Are you enjoying this?”

Seven glanced around at the other couples on the floor, then looked down at Janeway. “I am enjoying this sensation of movement,” she responded. “I am enjoying being with you. This allows me to touch you, to hold you, in the company of others whereas in most circumstances, it is forbidden. However, we are not on Voyager.”

“No, but this is something we can do on the ship,” Janeway told her with a smile. “Instead of Talent Night once a month, I’ll tell Neelix to start holding dances, just so we can hold each other like this.” She studied Seven for a moment. “Does it really bother you that you can’t touch me unless we’re alone?”

Seven did not answer immediately, face serious as she thought about it. “Sometimes,” she said finally, with careful consideration. “I do understand why I must not, however. When B’Elanna Torres and Tom Paris are together sometimes in the conference room, even if they are not touching physically, it still makes me … uncomfortable … as if I have intruded on a private moment that should belong only to them. So it follows that were I to touch you in the way that I like to touch you, it would make others uncomfortable as well … and that is not good for the functionality of the ship.”

“No, it’s not,” Janeway allowed gently. She got the impression that Seven was finally beginning to comprehend the subtleties of what she had merely accepted as orders before.

“On other occasions, however,” Seven went on slowly, “it can be very difficult; not being able to reach out to you. When we first entered this area of space for example, and you were so … elated. I wanted very much to touch you then. I wanted to hug you, to share in your joy.”

Janeway nodded gently. “Yes, I accept that. I wanted to touch you as well, in that moment, but all I could do is look at you.” She smiled. “I want you to know it made the moment all the more precious when I saw you looking back with those beautiful eyes.”

Seven sighed and rested her cheek gently against Janeway’s temple. “There are other times,” she said after a few moments. “When things seem very bad, and you are so weary … or when a crewmember has died. You have such a look on your face, one so empty and hurt … so alone. I wish only to hold you close to me, to let you know you are not alone, to somehow … protect you from such pain.”

Janeway caught her breath and hugged Seven gently as they danced. “Annika,” she said in a low voice. “Just know that at moments like that, there is absolutely not one thing you can do. You cannot protect me, as much you want to. But darling, I do love you dearly for wanting to.”

Janeway felt the muscles in Seven’s cheek flex and she knew that she must be smiling that rare smile. They danced to two more songs, holding each other close without any further words, delighting in this time they could spend together, before the slow music came to an end and the new selection, a much livelier sequence of tunes began. With unspoken agreement, they drifted back to the table where Tazna and Marin were also returning. The two couples looked at each other and then the healer smiled at Seven.

“Would you care to dance, Seven?”

Seven glanced uncertainly at Janeway, who nodded ever so slightly at her partner. “Of course,” Seven responded formally. She allowed the female to lead her out onto the floor, leaving Janeway and Tazna to stare at each other.

“I feel I must apologize, Captain,” Tazna offered as they sat down opposite each other.

“Seven is her own woman,” Janeway said coolly, not bothering to pretend that she didn’t know what this conversation was about. “I have no control over who she chooses to be with.”

“She chooses to be with you,” Tazna pointed out. “I hope you appreciate that.”

Janeway smiled, though she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. “I do,” she said evenly. “However, I am not in the habit of warning off … interested parties. If I made a mistake in all this, it’s that I forgot Seven does not always realize why people act as they do. Perhaps if you had utilized a little less charm and more honesty in dealing with her, you would not have been so … disappointed.”

“You believe I was disappointed, Captain?” Tazna remarked somewhat defensively.

“Were I to put myself in your place,” Janeway drawled rather pointedly.

Tazna had the grace to laugh. “You are quite correct, Captain,” she admitted finally. “It was a disappointment. I am not in the habit of being turned down, and in such an off-hand manner. People rarely know what they have or want as well as Seven. It was a refreshing, if humbling experience. You are a fortunate being, Captain. You know that the one you love, loves you completely, without question or doubt. That is a powerful gift.”

“I know,” Janeway replied.

And in that moment, somehow … she did. With utter certainty.

Epilogue

Janeway walked down the corridor leading to cargo bay one, her mind not on the bright, sleek glow her ship had taken on since being completely cleaned, overhauled and upgraded in the Hearthstone dockyard, or even on the crew which had returned to resume their duties, refreshed and invigorated by their week long leave.

No, it was what awaited her now. Voyager’s departure time was set for 1300 hours. Before that, all those who wished to stay in the Confederation were to gather in the cargo bay and be formally transferred from the ship. She would say a few words of encouragement, count the losses, and after they were transported away, try to make some sort of decision that wouldn’t leave her feeling like a failure.

She didn’t know how many had decided to remain here in the Confederation. She did know plenty had been approached by offers which, compared to the way they had been living for the past four years, were grand and glorious indeed; invitations to a lifestyle both comfortable and professionally challenging. It was ironic, after all the threats and dangers they had faced and conquered, that it was entirely possible Voyager’s journey would end right here, not from destruction, but by the promise of a better existence.

She paused outside the great doors, afraid to go in. She knew for a fact that B’Elanna had been offered the position of Hearthstone’s Lead Custodian, the stationmaster tremendously impressed with her skill and ability when they worked on Voyager. If she stayed, there was no question that Tom would as well. A pilot of his skill would be more than welcome anywhere in the Confederation. Chakotay … he had actually been offered his own command. They had even shown him the vessel, a magnificent craft still under construction in the Hearthstone dockyard. Harry and Tuvok were not interested, of course, still having close ties back home, but there were many who no longer had anything left in the Alpha Quadrant to go back for; those Maquis without family or spouses, those Starfleet crewmembers who had joined for the way of life and not the organization itself, scientists and explorers to whom the ‘where’ was not as important as the ‘how’.

She could not help but remember standing here once before. Voyager’s crew had been given an opportunity to settle down on a planet which had been settled by the descendants of Human abductees; historical figures like Amelia Earhart and the pilots of Flight 57. In that case, no one had chosen to stay, not that in her heart of hearts Janeway had really expected anyone to. They were, after all, in space because that was where they belonged. Being stuck on one planet for the rest of their lives would have been too final for most of them. At that time, barely a year into their journey, hope was still fresh, the whole concept of being lost for 75 years still inconceivable. Four years later, despite the fact they were 15,000 light years closer, the hope they would be home in their lifetime had subsided and all that was left was the journey itself. Now, they were offered the opportunity to travel and explore space all they wanted, yet, still be able to make a permanent home in a safe and supportive environment.

And what of herself? Voyager could not operate with less than one hundred crewmen. Currently there were 150 on board. If more than a third wished to stay … then either they would all have to remain, or she would have to try to do a little recruiting herself. Staying here was not an option she would choose willingly. She could not see herself swearing allegiance to the StarScouts; putting on an emerald uniform to replace the red and black one she wore so proudly. She knew that she had to return to the Alpha Quadrant, to the Federation, to Starfleet … or die in the attempt. It was both her duty and her destiny. She simply could not live with anything less.

She took a breath, straightened her shoulders, arranged her features in the impassive mask of command and entered cargo bay one.

It was empty.

For the first time in a long time, Captain Kathryn Janeway broke down in tears. This was the greatest honor she had ever known, perhaps ever would know. She heard the doors opening behind her, and she was aware of a presence she did not need to look back to identify.

“Commander Chakotay sent me down to remind you we will be underway in thirty minutes,” Seven told her quietly. She was standing very close, not understanding necessarily what Janeway was going through, but aware that it was something very emotional, somehow needing to be close, and knowing that Janeway needed it, too. She rested her hand lightly on the captain’s shoulder, not attempting anything beyond that.

Janeway nodded, a muscle jumping in her jawline as she fought to compose herself once more, wiping the tears away with her uniform sleeve. “I’m on my way,” she said huskily. She turned her head to look at Seven. “I’m surprised,” she admitted, knowing her expression showed everything to her crewmember, and not caring.

“That no one wished to stay?” Seven told her, with an arched brow. “That they, like me, would rather be with you in the Delta Quadrant, than anywhere else without you?” She shook her head. “In truth, it was to be expected. You are our captain. Voyager is our home.”

Janeway allowed a smile to touch her lips. “Come on,” she said. “Time to get back to our journey.”

She reached out as they left the cargo bay, resting her hand on the small of Seven’s back as they walked through the corridors. A casual gesture, but one not released even as they met other crewmembers on the way to the bridge, and it became quickly realized just what it meant; a public recognition of the relationship between the captain and this officer.

For the love just between them.

The End

Back to Season One

On to Just Between You & Me

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Epilogue