prologue

 

 

Alison Necheyev let out a slow breath, resting her head on the back of her seat. Her personal hovercraft sped away from the Denver skyline, heading for her home near Boulder. She planned to go home, program in a security lockout, and allow no access for the entire weekend. She’d purposely planned the press conference for Friday afternoon in order to give her two days of peace before all hell broke loose over her head.

The conference had gone about as well as she’d expected. After an initial shocked silence following her announcement, she’d been bombarded with questions, most of which she’d deflected. Sworn to secrecy, there wasn’t much she could say to explain the Hamilton Foundation’s sudden shift in mission.

And yet, as nasty as the press conference had been, she knew it was nothing compared to the storm that was coming. Today’s announcement would literally rock the Federation, and had repercussions that could well ripple across the entire quadrant. For hundreds of years, Earth’s government, and later the Federation, had been in the unique position of not having to fully budget for the space program. With the Hamilton Foundation footing the bill for most of the space exploration budget, including propulsion theory and development, the Federation was able to divert an enormous amount of funds to defense, social programs, and environmental reclamation and conservation. No other government in the known quadrant had such a sweet deal, and it gave the Federation a distinct advantage over its rivals and enemies.

Unfortunately, Starfleet and the Federation had long since become dependent on this happy situation. It had never occurred to anyone that the arrangement would not continue indefinitely. But with today’s announcement, Alison had ended the Hamilton Foundation’s support of any space exploration project except those related to faster-than-warp travel. She had essentially pulled the financial rug out from under her government. And all she wanted to do now was hide before her life turned to complete shit in exactly two days.

“Autopilot disengaging in five minutes,” her hovercraft informed her calmly. She sat up and prepared to take over the controls. The scenery had changed while she was resting, and a welcome calm settled over her as the hovercraft soared above the heavily wooded lands surrounding her private holdings. Soon she took the controls and guided the sleek craft to a landing in front of her house, a contemporary three-story structure built on clean, open lines. She’d used an architect known for his ability to blend a building into its surroundings, and to maximize light and space. The result, though not cheap, was a home that always welcomed her with its airy warmth.

She walked in the front door and immediately turned to her security panel, arming both the house and the property’s perimeter. There would be no visitors this weekend, though she knew the press would make every attempt to get in. Well, they could try. The system was as impregnable as any such system could get. It had been designed by a brilliant, if odd, Starfleet engineer recommended by her friend Deanna Troi.

The enormous kitchen opened directly off the entry. She’d specified that design, since the kitchen was nearly always the first place she stopped upon coming home. She dropped her briefcase on the table in the breakfast nook, opened the door of her small refrigerator and took out a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice, a luxury item for which she cheerfully paid exorbitant amounts of money. With a happy sigh she poured a glass, drank it in one long gulp, and refilled it.

Turning around, she scowled at the kitchen terminal, which was currently displaying a list of twenty-six messages. Considering that her home system was programmed not to accept transmissions from anyone but family and a few close friends, that meant that practically everyone on her “accept” list had called. Even as she read the list of calls, a beep alerted her to yet another incoming transmission. She automatically straightened up as the name appeared on screen. This one she would have to take sooner or later; might as well get it over with now. She keyed the terminal.

“Hello, Aunt Alynna,” she said.

The thin, Slavic face regarding her looked disapproving. Then again, Aunt Alynna always looked that way.

“Alison,” said Admiral Necheyev by way of greeting. “What in the name of hell is going on? I just returned from the Nantara Sector twenty minutes ago and walked into chaos. A chaos created, apparently, by my own niece.”

Alison sighed. “I’m sorry, Aunt Alynna, I can’t tell you. Everything I’m free to say has already been said.”

“Which was just enough to turn Starfleet completely on its ear. Not good enough. I want to know why, Alison.”

The Admiral’s complete disregard of her prior statement didn’t surprise Alison, but she had long since grown past the point where she could be intimidated.

“I said, I can’t tell you. I meant what I said.”

“You always do. And so do I. This is more important than company policy, Alison. You know damn good and well what the repercussions could be. You owe it to me to give me a little more. I’m going to be fighting hell’s own battle down here, and I need information.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to fight that battle with the same information everyone else has. This isn’t just company policy, it’s my word of honor, my reputation and my job. I can’t tell you any more, Aunt Alynna. Not until I’m given permission to do so.”

The Admiral narrowed her eyes. “Given permission, I see. So you have been given orders. Which means this comes from the Board.”

“Well, of course it comes from the Board. Who else would have the power to change Foundation policy and the mission? Stop trying to read something into what I’m saying. And if that’s your only reason for calling, Aunt Alynna, then I’m afraid I must go. I’ve got a busy weekend ahead”—doing nothing at all, she thought—“and it starts right now.”

“Don’t be rude, Alison. Has it occurred to you that I might want to know how you’re doing? This has got to be a strain for you.”

Alison looked at her aunt suspiciously. That narrow face rarely gave away any emotion, and she could never tell when the Admiral was playing her or not. It was generally safe to assume that, in the absence of evidence to the contrary, she was indeed being played. Still, she had been raised properly and could not behave rudely to her elder.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she said carefully. “And yes, it is a strain. It will be much more of a strain on Monday, so I plan to spend this weekend enjoying the last two days of peace that I will probably get in my life. So please, Aunt Alynna, let me enjoy them.”

For just a fraction of a second, she thought she saw sympathy in her aunt’s eyes. But it might have been the light.

“All right, Alison, I’ll let you go. Just answer one question for me.”

“What?” said Alison warily.

“When were you ordered to make this policy change?”

Alison examined her aunt’s face for any clue as to why she wanted to know the date. As usual, the Admiral was impassive. She considered the question, and couldn’t see why that bit of information would make a difference. And if it would get the Admiral off her back, all the better.

“Tuesday,” she said.

“I see. Well, I’ll let you enjoy your weekend, Alison. The rest of us here at Starfleet won’t be so fortunate. Goodbye.”

The transmission ended before Alison could respond. She shook her head, drank her orange juice, and headed upstairs.

Not ten minutes later, as she was pulling her comfortable old sweater over her head, the terminal in her bedroom beeped at her.

“Goddammit!” She’d have to set the thing to reject all transmissions for the weekend. Who was it this time? Tugging her sweater down, she walked to the screen and stared at the name. Fleet Admiral Necheyev, Starfleet. Shit.

“Yes, Aunt Alynna,” she said after activating the terminal.

Her aunt looked at her with her usual impassive face, but there was a glint to her eye that only those closest to her could perceive. Alison knew immediately that she was on to something.

“This is about Voyager, isn’t it?” said the Admiral.

It was only through years of boardroom experience that Alison kept her surprise off her face. God in heaven, how had she figured that out?

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” she said evenly. “Guessing won’t do you any good, Aunt Alynna.”

“I’m not guessing,” said her aunt. “I ran a news search after our last conversation. The only reason that the Hamilton Foundation would divert its entire research fund to faster-than-warp propulsion is if there’s something in another quadrant that it wants. So I checked, using the date you so kindly gave me as a limiting parameter. Turns out that on Monday, something rather important happened in the Delta Quadrant. Voyager was finally reached in live communication, via the MIDAS array. Something that, for some unknown reason, Admiral Paris forgot to notify me about.” Her mouth twisted into a frown, and Alison felt sorry for Admiral Paris. There was no love lost between those two.

“I find it to be too much of a coincidence,” continued the Admiral, “that the day after contact was made with Voyager, the Hamilton Foundation Board ordered you to alter the Foundation’s mission to exclude all research save that for faster-than-warp propulsion. The Foundation wants to bring Voyager home. Not that I have any objection to that goal, but it still begs the question of why. What is on Voyager that the Foundation wants?”

Alison shrugged. “This is all total conjecture on your part. So I can’t answer your theoretical question.”

The Admiral almost, almost smiled. “I’ve taught you well,” she said. “And if I’ve never said it before, Alison, I am very proud of you.”

Alison was caught completely flat-footed. Her mouth actually dropped open. Praise from the Admiral was nothing less than earth shaking. She had never heard those words before, and never thought she would. God, would Aunt Alynna stoop that low to dig information out of her?

As it turned out, she didn’t need to.

“I had a little chat with Admiral Paris,” said her aunt. Alison could only imagine the carnage that ‘chat’ might have involved. “And I found that Voyager has taken on new passengers: another ex-Borg and a human female. Now, I can easily see how the Foundation would want to get its hands on two ex-Borg, though I think they rightfully belong to Starfleet. But I suspect what interests the Foundation more is the human, Lynne Hamilton. Interesting name, don’t you think? And even more interesting birth date.”

Alison said nothing. There was nothing she could say. They stared at each other in silence for what seemed like minutes, before Admiral Necheyev sighed.

“Alison,” she said in an entirely different voice, “I am greatly concerned. Perhaps I’ve been dealing with Cardassians and the Dominion for too long, but my belief in altruism is not what it once was. The Foundation may be doing everything it can to bring Voyager home, but I can’t believe that the Board officers will happily welcome the one woman who could take everything away from them.”

You have no idea, thought Alison. She kept silent, but it was growing increasingly difficult; over the last week she had been getting more and more worried about that very thing. There was a truly mind-boggling amount of money at stake, and she well knew what that sort of incentive could do. She’d already heard a few nasty rumors. Someone at their confidential meeting had talked, and it hadn’t been her.

“If you ever need my advice or assistance,” her aunt said, looking at her intently, “just know that I’m here.” She gave Alison a small smile. “I’m your aunt; it’s my job to look after you.”

They looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Thank you, Aunt Alynna,” said Alison. “I appreciate your kind words, and I’m…truly honored by your praise. I promise I’ll keep in touch.” It was all she could say, but she knew the Admiral would get the message.

“I am never kind,” said the Admiral crisply, “and my praise is never given unless it is earned. You, unlike many others, have earned it. I trust you will continue to do so.” She paused. “And Alison—be careful.” The transmission ended.

Alison stared at the Starfleet emblem on the screen. “Holy mother of God,” she murmured. She reached out, keyed her communications system to reject all transmissions, and shut the terminal down. Turning for the stairs, she headed towards her kitchen. It was time for more orange juice—just enough to dilute the vodka.

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 1

 

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway added her authorization to the PADD in her hand and dropped it with a satisfying clatter onto the pile scattered across one side of her desk. Glaring at the neat stack of PADDs still waiting for her attention, she accused, “Why haven’t you gotten any smaller?”

God, she’d been at this for half an eternity already and there was no end in sight. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“Tell me again,” she asked no one in particular, “why I ever thought I wanted to be a captain?”

Wearily, she picked up another PADD and activated it. Two paragraphs later her entry chime sounded and she dropped the PADD as if it were on fire. “Come,” she called. At this point she didn’t care who it was, she was just glad for the excuse to take a break.

When her visitor stepped in, her relief turned to genuine happiness. “Revi! What can I do for you?”

Doctor Revi Sandovhar walked to Janeway’s desk, her smile gleaming against her dark skin. “You always ask that,” she said. “As if you haven’t already done enough.”

Janeway stood up. “And been well repaid, too. Join me for a cup of coffee?”

At Revi’s nod, she led the way to the upper level, going straight to the replicator to order their coffee. Returning to the couch with her trademark silver coffee pot, she poured the steaming brew into two cups, handing one to Revi before settling back with her own. The first sip was heaven. Ahh, yes, she’d needed this.

“You didn’t give me an answer,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

Revi put her cup and saucer back on the table. “Well, I did come to ask you for a favor, but I thought I’d make some small talk first and soften you up.”

Janeway couldn’t help her grin; this was typical Revi-style informality. The woman just didn’t do formal. She acknowledged the command structure, but didn’t let it influence her manner. It was the same “this is who I am, deal with it” attitude that Lynne had, and in turn it gave Janeway the freedom to be herself, rather than just the captain.

In the two months since the ex-Borg had come aboard, they’d formed an easy friendship that far surpassed anything she’d ever had with another officer. Part of it may have been due to their unorthodox meeting, but a lot of it was just Revi’s personality. She’d insisted that Janeway call her by her first name, even on duty unless other crew were present, and after awhile Janeway had asked her to do the same. Having Revi call her “Captain” just hadn’t sounded right anymore. She respected and admired Revi; her dedication to duty was unquestionable and yet she managed to perform her duties with a humanity and easy acceptance that had most of Voyager’s crewmembers flocking to her.

Five weeks after Revi’s arrival, Voyager had run into a nest of pirate ships. Individually they were no match for Voyager’s armaments, but seven ships working as a cohesive unit had done considerable damage before the Starfleet crew had destroyed three of them. The other four had fled, leaving Voyager victorious but damaged, with a sickbay full of casualties. Revi had responded to the crisis as if she’d been born to the role, and had soon become the doctor of choice for nearly all of the injured crew. When it came to choosing between the Doctor’s acerbic lack of bedside manner and Revi’s warm, nonjudgmental personality, most patients opted for Revi. And Janeway was planning to address that situation very soon.

She took another sip and put her cup down. “Okay,” she said. “Small talk it is, though you have no chance at all of softening me up. How’s Ensign Delaney’s arm?”

“Well, it might be another day or so before she can go back to the Captain Proton scenario, but she’s healing nicely. I don’t think Mr. Paris will recover as quickly.”

Janeway nodded. Jennifer Delaney had torn a ligament in her arm while saving Tom in a Captain Proton holonovel, and although Tom hadn’t been injured physically, seeing the ensign’s injury and owing her for his rescue had hurt his ego considerably.

“You’re right about that,” she said. “He spent the entire shift yesterday feeling small and showing it. I’m not sure which he’s sorrier for, that Ensign Delaney got hurt or that she saved his ass in the process. He’s supposed to be the hero in those stories.”

Revi chuckled. “You’ve known Tom longer than I have, which do you think was harder for him?”

They looked at each other and said in unison, “Saving his ass,” then laughed heartily.

“What is that program, anyway?” asked Revi. “Tom explained it to me, but I still don’t get it.”

“Pray that you never do,” said Janeway. “Tom loves anything to do with the twentieth century, and that program comes from an old adventure series set in that time. It’s hopelessly anachronistic and ridiculously sexist, and Tom just adores it. He sucked me into it once, and believe me, once was enough.”

Interest lit up Revi’s face. “Oh really? Who did you play?”

Janeway looked anywhere but at Revi. “I was…Arachnia, Queen of the Spider People.”

Revi didn’t even try to restrain her guffaw. “Please tell me that there are holophotos.”

Janeway did look at her then, her glare threatening immolation. “Trans-dimensional aliens had mistaken the holocharacters for real individuals, and were conducting their own little war on our holodeck. It was endangering the ship. The only way we could stop it was for me to take on a role in the story.”

Revi shrugged off the glare, still smiling broadly. “I’m sure it was completely selfless on your part. But I repeat: where are the holophotos?”

“There aren’t any and if there were, do you think I’d ever show them to you?”

Revi sipped her coffee. “Probably not, more’s the pity. That would fuel me for months.”

“Aren’t you supposed to treat me with a little more fear and respect?” Janeway asked, pretending a grumpy tone.

Revi’s expression became completely serious. “Respect, absolutely. Fear, never. You’re too good a captain for that, Kathryn. And you’ve given me too much.”

“You mean a job and your own quarters? I’d have done that for any highly qualified Starfleet officer who happened to drop in and had skills I was desperately in need of.”

“I meant a second chance,” said Revi.

Janeway dropped her light tone. “You deserved it, Revi. And you’ve done a wonderful job. I hadn’t hoped you’d be up to full time so quickly, and I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews from the crewmembers you’ve treated. They really appreciate you.”

Revi’s smile was brilliant. “That’s good to hear. Thanks for sharing that with me. They’ve really been far more accepting than I expected; so far there have only been a few who have preferred not to be treated by an ex-Borg. I think Seven did a lot to blaze that trail already.”

Janeway picked up her cup and took another sip, eyeing her friend over the rim. Revi appeared to be a different person from the often withdrawn, emotionally battered woman she’d met on Dakmor two months ago.

“You look happy,” she said, setting her cup down. “It’s nice to see.”

“I am happier,” conceded Revi. “More than I ever thought I would be.”

Janeway knew Revi well enough by now to know that she was playing semantics. “Happier, but not happy?”

Revi was unruffled. “I’m not of the philosophy that happiness is a universal guarantee, Kathryn. Nobody has a birthright to it, and in fact I think true happiness is pretty damned hard to find. If a person manages to actually find it in spite of all the crap floating around in our lives, then they’re extremely fortunate. But I don’t think that’s the norm, and I certainly don’t expect it for myself.”

“I don’t think it’s that rare at all,” countered Janeway. “God knows if I can find it, anyone can. And it took me until now to get there. Don’t count yourself out, Revi.”

Revi shook her head. “You deserve all your happiness and then some, Kathryn. Not everyone does.”

“Don’t tell me you’re saying that you don’t deserve it.”

Revi reached for her cup. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

Janeway sighed. “Someday I’m going to get a different answer.”

Revi raised her eyebrows as she sipped her coffee. Lowering the cup, she swallowed and said, “This bothers you far more than it bothers me, you know. I don’t feel cheated. Quite the contrary, I’m pretty content right now. Two months ago I would have been thrilled to have one person look beyond my Borg past, and now I’m actually practicing medicine again, on people who see me as mostly human. And the Doctor is there to handle those who can’t deal with what I was, so I don’t have to worry about my past preventing people from getting proper medical care. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an ideal situation.”

“What do you mean, ‘mostly human’?”

“Oh come on, Kathryn. You’ve been one of the most accepting, but even you have to acknowledge that I’m not fully human. There are certain things that no one can look past, not even you.”

“Such as?” Janeway threw it out as a challenge. She was determined to get Revi past this complex of hers.

But she wasn’t ready for Revi’s response.

“This,” said Revi, thrusting her cybernetic arm right in front of Janeway’s face, servos whirring and the clamp snapping open and shut. Despite herself, Janeway flinched.

Revi lowered her arm, a fleeting look of hurt crossing her face. “You talk a good game, Kathryn, but even you can’t prevent a natural reaction to something so obviously Borg. I understand that.”

Janeway was angry with herself for her lack of control, and not a little irritated at Revi. She jumped up from the couch, looming over her startled friend.

“That was a cheap shot, Commander,” she growled, jerking her arm back as if she were going to backhand the woman across the face. Revi’s eyes went wide and she turned her head slightly, instinctively anticipating the blow. But she made no move to defend herself.

Calmly, Janeway dropped her arm and retook her seat.

“You flinched, Revi. Even you can’t prevent a natural reaction to something so obviously human.” She held up her hand for emphasis. “I guess that means you can’t look past my humanity.”

Revi let out a breath and shook her head. “Touché, Kathryn. You certainly know how to make a point.”

“If the arm bothers you so much,” asked Janeway, “why not get rid of it? The Doctor can certainly perform the operation. He did a beautiful job on Seven’s implants.”

“Yes, he did,” Revi agreed. “I reviewed her records when she asked me to take over her medical care, and I’d have to say his work is excellent. If I ever make that decision, I’d trust him to do it. But the arm is very useful in medical operations. I’m a walking sickbay with this.”

“As long as it’s working,” said Janeway, remembering their time in the Dakmorian prison.

“Dakmor is the only time it has ever been out of commission. Now that I’m regenerating regularly, it would take something extremely powerful to knock it out.”

“How many tools would you have to carry in a medkit to equal what you have on your arm?”

“Six, but that still wouldn’t equal what the arm can do. It’s designed for cybernetic, machine and electronic repairs as well. I’d have to carry a whole toolbox to equal this arm.”

“You know,” said Janeway, “for someone who hates the Borg connotations of that arm, you’re certainly defending it.”

“True. I have a love/hate relationship with it.”

“Do you love it for what it does for you personally or professionally?”

“That’s a rhetorical question, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. Or maybe the real question is which is more important to you, your personal happiness or your professional potential.”

Revi groaned. “Oh, gods, not this again. Didn’t we just finish this conversation?”

“No, we didn’t. We were interrupted by your little impromptu demonstration, which brings me to another issue. You didn’t defend yourself. Would you have just let me hit you?”

Revi shrugged. “Well, as you said, I did take a cheap shot at you.”

“Revi!” Janeway was aghast. “Yes, you did, and I was a little irritated, but I could be mad as hell and I still would have no right to strike you or any other crewmember. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Again there was that shrug. Janeway knew the signs; Revi was starting to withdraw. She leaned forward and grasped both Revi’s human hand and her cybernetic arm, willing her to reconnect. “Stop that,” she said. “You’re thinking like a guilty ex-Borg, not a Starfleet officer. Just step back for one second and really think about it. Do you have the right to strike a crewmember?”

Wide brown eyes met hers. “No, of course not!”

“Well then, why would I have the right to strike you?”

Revi’s eyes dropped again.

Janeway sighed. “Revi, please tell me it’s not because you think you deserve it.”

That got her a tiny smile as Revi said, “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Dammit.” Janeway let go and sat back against the couch with a thump. “What am I going to do with you?”

The smile on Revi’s face grew as she met Janeway’s gaze. “It’s all right, Kathryn. I just got a bit lost there for a second. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m Starfleet again.”

“I hope the time comes when you find it hard to forget,” said Janeway. “That tendency of yours to think like a guilty ex-Borg is the only qualm I have about offering you the post of Chief Medical Officer.”

The smile vanished. “What? No way, Kathryn.” Revi sat up straight, distancing herself. “Gods, I just went full time last week; don’t push me. I’m not ready for that, and I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“I know you’re not,” said Janeway. “I’m not offering you the position.” She watched the obvious relief cross Revi’s face, and added, “Yet.”

The glare aimed at her was really quite potent, Janeway thought. She glared right back, and eventually Revi’s face softened into a rueful expression.

“You’re never going to give up, are you?”

“On you? No, never.” Janeway picked up her coffee cup. “Lynne told me once that I remind her of a breed of dog from her time called a pit bull. She said they were often trained as protection dogs, and she saw pit bulls that would clamp their jaws on a target and never let go, even when their entire bodies were lifted off the ground so they were hanging by their teeth. Determined and stubborn to the very end, she said. Can’t imagine why she sees a resemblance.”

“Oh no, neither can I,” said Revi with a slight eye roll. “So tell me, do those charming traits have anything to do with the fact that pit bulls are no longer with us today?”

“I have no idea,” said Janeway. “Why, are you trying to imply something?”

“Of course not. I value my life these days.”

The humor in that was a little too macabre for Janeway’s tastes. She could hardly fathom how Revi could make a joke out of her near-suicide. “I value it too, Revi. And I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for, but the fact is, you did an exemplary job as CMO of the Rendez-vous, and you’re eminently qualified for that role on Voyager. The Doctor has done a fine job, but he was never designed to work continuously, nor was he designed to fill the role of CMO. And while it’s true that he has exceeded his programming, between the two of you I would still choose you for the position. Thanks to your time with the Borg, your medical knowledge exceeds his in many areas, and your human ability to empathize enables you to treat the patient as well as the medical issue. A CMO needs to be more than just technically excellent, Revi. It needs to be someone like you.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in me.”

“I put my faith where it’s deserved.”

A pained expression crossed Revi’s face. “You’ve only known me for two months. How can you be so certain about where your faith is deserved?”

“That’s why I’m the captain.” Janeway dared Revi to argue that.

“Kathryn…” Revi ran her hand through her long black hair and sighed. “You say you don’t want to push me, but you are. And you have since I came on board.”

Janeway refused to acknowledge the twinge of guilt. “That’s also why I’m the captain. Part of my job is seeing potential and making sure it’s properly used. Your potential is nowhere near being fully used, Revi. And although I freely admit to pushing you into sickbay in the first place, I’ve let you go your own pace since then. You’re the one who told me you were ready to go full time. And I’ll try not to push the CMO post on you. Ideally, sometime soon you’re going to come to me and tell me you’re ready. But if you don’t, if it takes too long, then yes, I’m going to push you again. Both for your sake and that of the ship.”

They looked at each other in silence. Sometimes Janeway regretted the necessity of her position, when she had to set aside friendship and be a captain. She knew that Revi understood it better than most, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Pit bull is right,” said Revi at last, breaking the tension. “I think I have teeth marks.”

Janeway let out a surprised laugh. “If you walked out of here with teeth marks, Lynne would hunt us both down.”

Revi seemed grateful for the change of subject. “And she’d have every right. So how are the wedding plans going?”

Raising her hand in a seesaw motion, Janeway said, “Not so well at the moment. We can’t seem to come to an agreement on the when and where.”

“Well, those are fairly important decisions. What’s the problem, if I may ask?”

“You may, and you’re just about the only one who can,” said Janeway. Revi smiled warmly, and Janeway knew the message had been received. The captain had withdrawn from the conversation; this was just two friends talking about their lives. She appreciated Revi’s graceful acceptance of the necessary and changing dynamic of their relationship.

“The problem is that after dragging her feet over the whole thing, once Lynne decided to propose to me, she was ready to go. As in, right now.”

Revi nodded. “And you’re not.”

“No, I am, but Lynne’s still out in front. Hell, I’m still adjusting to the fact that she accepted me at all. This is a big change to both of our lives, so I’m willing to spend more time planning this. But the biggest issue is that I’d like to figure out some way to include as many members of the crew as possible. I’m fully aware that my marriage isn’t just my own. My position means that something like this belongs to everyone, not just Lynne and me.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You have every right to sneak off to the holodeck and elope if that’s what you want. Your crew would understand.”

“They’d understand, but they’d also be a little demoralized. Morale is critical in our situation, Revi. I can’t overlook the fact that my wedding can do a lot of good.”

“Kathryn, your wedding is not a political tool.”

“Of course it is. If we were home it wouldn’t be, but we’re not home. We’re still thirty-plus years away, and I have to use everything at my disposal to keep this crew happy and hoping.”

Revi shook her head. “Have you had this discussion with Lynne?”

“God yes. Many times. She’s ready to get married in a holoprogram with only the requisite witnesses. She says she understands my concerns, but that doesn’t mean she has to be happy about them.”

Chuckling, Revi said, “I can actually hear her saying that.”

“Come to my quarters for dinner tonight and you can hear it for real.”

“Is Seven invited too?”

“Sure, I was planning to ask—”

“No need, Kathryn. She says yes and wants to know what time.”

Taken by surprise, Janeway stumbled. “Uh, how about eighteen thirty?”

“We’ll be there.”

Janeway shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that interlink.”

Revi’s expression was enigmatic. “I don’t think I could ever get used to not having it again.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Janeway asked quietly, “What’s it like? Seven hasn’t talked much about it.”

Tilting her head to one side, Revi thought for awhile before answering. “Well, imagine that right now, right this very instant, you were condemned to finish your journey alone in a shuttle.”

Janeway wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather not.”

“Believe me, I know. Now imagine that, after a few years of solitary confinement on that shuttle, you suddenly found yourself on Voyager again. Except this Voyager is different—it’s more comfortable, the air is fresher, the food is better, and after those years of solitude, suddenly you have Lynne. And she’s with you all the time—not in an obtrusive manner, but just there for you whenever you need her, for any reason. You can talk to her when you want, not talk when you want, but you know she’s there, you know what she’s doing, and oftentimes you know what she’s feeling. From solitude to constant company.”

“Do you hear her thoughts all the time? Are you hearing them right now?”

“Yes, but only if I actively listen.”

“So you don’t always listen actively?”

“That requires a different analogy. It’s kind of like if you and I were at a party together. We’re in the same room, we’re even within hearing distance of each other, but we’re each engaged in conversations with other people. If I were to stop talking and listen, I’d hear everything you’re saying, but if I want to hold up my own conversation I can’t devote that attention to you. The analogy isn’t entirely accurate because Seven and I both have cortical implants that allow us to focus on several different things simultaneously, but you get the idea. When I’m engaged with you, or working in sickbay, I’m only listening with partial attention to Seven’s thoughts. If I hear something that intrigues me, I’ll pay more attention. Otherwise it’s more like I’m just monitoring. So in answer to the question you didn’t ask, no, we don’t know absolutely everything about each other. It’s not that kind of link. There’s no pressure, there’s no sense of crowding; just a warm, welcome connection that’s there whenever you reach out. It’s the ultimate sense of community and belonging.”

“It sounds like heaven.” Janeway’s voice was soft. “I had no idea.”

“Nobody does,” answered Revi in an equally quiet voice. “I have every reason to hate the Borg, but the gods know they did leave me with at least one incredible gift.”

“But how much of a gift would it be if you weren’t compatible with the person, or persons, you’re connected with?”

“Fortunately, I can tune out individual frequencies. My transceiver, like Seven’s, would always be open to general Borg information channels, but as a repair drone I was required to reach single drones who weren’t receiving those channels. So my transceiver is designed to access any frequency, enabling me to localize the individual frequency of a disabled drone. When I finished the repair I’d tune that frequency out again. It came in handy at the colony, because there were a few people whose thoughts I really didn’t want to hear.”

“Do you ever tune Seven out?”

Revi shook her head. “Never. I would if she asked me, but she hasn’t. It’s a great comfort for both of us to have that presence in our minds.”

“You explained it beautifully, Revi,” said Janeway. “I think I have a much clearer idea of how this works. But I’m curious about your use of Lynne in your original comparison. Are you saying that Seven is to you what Lynne is to me?”

She was startled by the instant alarm on Revi’s face. “No, I’m not saying that at all!” Revi’s voice was a little louder than necessary, and she immediately adjusted it. “I was just trying to create a picture that would resonate with you. Seven and I are very compatible; our shared Borg experiences allow us to understand each other in ways that nobody else can. In addition to that she’s incredibly intelligent, she’s got a great sense of humor that’s still finding its way out, and she has one of the most gentle and caring hearts I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. But we’re not in love.”

Janeway was having a hard time hiding her grin. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

Obviously her tone wasn’t as even as she’d hoped, because Revi turned a glare on her. “Kathryn, stop.”

Janeway raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not doing anything except agreeing with you.” The glare didn’t alter, and Janeway lowered her hands. Her next words were completely serious. “Revi—just be careful.”

Revi’s face instantly softened. “I will. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt her.”

Janeway nodded. “I know. And the last thing in the world I want is to see either one of you hurt.”

The room was quiet again, until Janeway remembered that they’d never gotten around to Revi’s original intention for coming.

“So what was the favor, anyway?”

“Oh, right. It’s about my quarters,” began Revi.

“What’s wrong with them? Not big enough?” Janeway teased. The only quarters larger than those of the CMO were the captain’s.

“Gods, no. They’re huge.” Revi wasn’t taking the bait. “I was just wondering if a small addition might be made.”

“Such as…”

“Well, as you so brilliantly demonstrated earlier, I’m more human than Borg now. And as much as I appreciate having access to a regeneration unit, I’m not nearly as appreciative of the fact that every time I regenerate, I’m on display for anyone who wanders into the cargo bay. Would it be possible to move one of the alcoves into my quarters?”

“Of course, Revi. I apologize; you shouldn’t have had to ask.” Janeway couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of it. “I’ll make it a priority for B’Elanna.”

“Thank you, Kathryn. And there’s no need to apologize; it really didn’t bother me at first. There’s not much room for privacy or modesty when you’re Borg, and it took me awhile to realize that I even had another option. But Kathryn…” Revi locked eyes with Janeway. “Seven is more human than Borg, too.”

It took Janeway several seconds to find her voice. “She’s never said anything.”

“She’s been in the same frame of mind that I was at first, except that since her entire life had been Borg, she really didn’t realize she had other options. But knowing that I’m planning to permanently move out has changed her mindset. She’s going to ask you for her own quarters soon. I wanted to give you a heads up so that you’d have some time to deal with it before she comes to see you.”

“What do you mean, deal with it?”

Revi’s expression was oddly sympathetic. “I mean, deal with the fact that you won’t be able to watch over her anymore. She knows, Kathryn. We both know. Regeneration isn’t like sleep.”

Shock rooted Janeway to the spot. She felt her face burning as the shame swept over her. Seven had known all this time? Jumping up, she stalked to a viewport, staring unseeingly at the star streaks as her mind reviewed all of the times she’d watched Seven regenerate, taking advantage of the only time that she could look at her beautiful face and body without reservation, though not without guilt. In the early months, when she and Seven had fought so frequently, watching Seven regenerate was the only time she could be near her and have peace. Once they’d moved past their constant battles, she had continued to watch over her, feeling a strange mixture of responsibility, affection, and something else that she’d never dared define to herself. Over the last year her visits had gotten less frequent, but she still stopped in now and again, a guilty indulgence that she’d never been able to deny herself. She’d even watched over Revi and Seven together, marveling at their differences, their similarities; wondering what their chances were for happiness and what it might mean for her own relationship with Seven.

And all this time, Seven had known. Revi as well. And they’d never said anything.

She felt Revi’s presence next to her just before a warm hand settled on her shoulder. Without looking up, she said, “I’m sorry. I have no excuse.”

The hand squeezed gently, but Revi said nothing. Finally, when Janeway could stand it no longer, she turned to meet Revi’s eyes.

And found no accusation, no judgment; just understanding and sympathy.

“You don’t need an excuse, Kathryn,” said Revi gently. “Seven never said anything to you because she was afraid that if she did, you’d stop coming.”

Janeway couldn’t even form the words, she was so stunned. But Revi nodded. “She valued those times. It made her feel that you cared about her. It made her feel special.”

Turning her head away to hide the sudden tears filling her eyes, Janeway managed to speak. “She is special.”

“Then maybe when she comes to ask you about her quarters, you should tell her that.”

The laugh that came out of Janeway’s constricted throat sounded harsh to her ears. “Maybe I should.” She looked up. “You know, don’t you?”

Revi nodded again. “I have the advantage of seeing through Seven’s eyes as well. But I don’t think she’s ever interpreted it in the way you’re thinking. She doesn’t have the experience yet. So don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“With you and Lynne,” said Janeway.

Revi was startled. “Lynne knows?”

“She has for a while now. In fact, she told me right before I met you.”

“And she…has no issues with it?”

“She said it made her happy to know that if anything ever happened to her, I might have a second chance with Seven.”

“Holy gods,” murmured Revi. “That woman is something else. I think you should marry her, Kathryn.”

This time Janeway’s laugh was normal. “You know, I think you’re right.” She looked into Revi’s eyes, such a deep brown that they were almost black. “I also think that the time of me having a chance with Seven is fast slipping away. And that’s a wonderful thing.”

A mask crashed down over Revi’s face even as she watched. “And I think you might be getting ahead of things.”

Janeway let it drop. “You know,” she said, “I seem to recall that when you walked in here, you said something about softening me up. When does that part happen?”

When Revi laughed, she knew they were okay.

Fifteen minutes later, Revi left and Janeway walked back to her desk, where the pile of PADDs had unfortunately not shrunk in her absence. Settling in her chair with a sigh, she picked up the PADD that had been dropped earlier and resumed reading. In moments her brow furrowed. “Damn,” she said. She slowly shook her head as she continued to read. Then her head movement stopped and her face smoothed out, taking on a thoughtful expression. Gradually she began to nod, a smile curving her lips. Signing the report and dropping it on the “done” pile, she turned to her computer terminal and composed a quick set of messages. Then she leaned back in her chair and picked up the next PADD, looking very satisfied.

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 2

 

 

A hiccup in the electronics of one of the bridge stations had kept Janeway after her normal shift, and she’d been in her quarters just long enough to program in the meal, change clothes and start on a glass of wine when Lynne walked in.

“Hi, love,” she said, coming over and giving Janeway an enthusiastic hug and kiss. She looked fantastic in a green shirt that matched her eyes and the snug brown synthetic leather vest she’d taken to wearing lately.

“Hi yourself,” Janeway said, looking up into her face and knowing instantly that Lynne was in a great mood. She was practically crackling with energy. “What’s got you so happy?”

Lynne grinned. “Tuvok and I had a sparring match today. And I finally, finally took him down.” She twirled around, pumping both fists skyward and whooping. “Yes! Yes!” Her spin brought her back to face Janeway, who was amused at her partner’s antics. “I’m a little hyped up, can you tell?”

“I can tell.”

Lynne nodded, apparently not noticing the teasing tone in Janeway’s voice. “So I’ve been burning off some excess energy before dinner, but it’s not quite gone yet. I was listening to some classic rock before I left my quarters; mind if I turn it on here?”

“No, go ahead.” Janeway had rarely seen Lynne this excited before, and she was thoroughly enjoying it.

Lynne caught her in a short hug, let go and called out, “Computer, play Peter Gabriel, So. Track two.”

A flute-like sound filled the room, and Janeway met Lynne’s eyes, wondering why she’d chosen this track. Moments later, however, the brass section and thundering rhythm came in, and at Lynne’s order the volume quickly rose to chest-throbbing levels. Janeway was glad she’d had the extra sound-proofing installed in her quarters, though this wasn’t why she’d thought it necessary.

Lynne stepped away and beckoned to Janeway, who smilingly shook her head and made a “go ahead” motion with her hand. Lynne shrugged, moved to the center of the room, and began dancing with total abandon, apparently picking up where she’d left off in her own quarters. Janeway sipped her wine and watched, mesmerized by the graceful form of her tall partner. On occasion they’d danced together, but always to a slower rhythm—she’d never seen Lynne move like this. The dancing wasn’t overtly sexual, but the things Lynne’s body was doing to the rhythm of the music had Janeway thinking distinctly impure thoughts. It didn’t take long before merely watching wasn’t enough. She put her wine glass down and stepped up to her lover, who beamed at her, turned her by the shoulders so her back was to Lynne’s front, and began gyrating their hips together. Janeway quickly got into the rhythm, reveling in the sensation of their bodies moving together to the beat. She twisted in Lynne’s grasp and put her hands on her partner’s hips, guiding their movements while she looked into laughing green eyes. They danced face to face for awhile, until Lynne broke away, dancing around Janeway so that they ended up back to back and butt to butt. Janeway laughed out loud; it was a bit tougher to match their moves this way, but a hell of a lot of fun. Since it precluded being able to watch Lynne, however, she soon changed position and put herself in front of her lover, thoroughly enjoying the view. Lynne gradually moved them over to the table, and when the song ended they collapsed into chairs, grinning at each other. Lynne lowered the volume as Janeway pushed the second glass of wine toward her.

“That was fun,” Janeway said as she caught her breath. “I’ve never seen you dance like that.”

Lynne took a healthy swallow of wine, her breathing already back to normal. “Well,” she said, “I normally reserve that kind of dancing for when I’m alone. And when I’m really happy.” She unleashed a brilliant, full smile and Janeway couldn’t help but smile back. When Lynne was happy, she showed it so openly that it was contagious.

“So,” Janeway asked, “were those lyrics as suggestive in your time as they are now?”

“Absolutely. Probably more so; I mean, do you even have sledgehammers now?” Apparently, Lynne still had some energy to burn. Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up and put her hands on the arms of Janeway’s chair, leaning in close and giving her a look that would have been predatory if her eyes hadn’t been twinkling. “Kathryn,” she said in a low, sexy voice, “I’m feeling very macha right now. Wanna take advantage of it?”

Janeway felt a thrill run down her spine even as she shook her head. “Seven and Revi will be here in—” she checked her chronometer—“fifteen minutes. We don’t have time, much as I’d like to. And what does ‘macha’ mean, anyway?”

Lynne pulled Janeway’s shirt up, taking her bra with it. “We have plenty of time,” she growled, “and I’ll explain ‘macha’ later.” She bent down and bit Janeway lightly on the underside of a breast before taking an instantly stiff nipple into her mouth. Janeway inhaled sharply and dropped her head back. “Lynne…” Her protest died as Lynne barraged her with nips, kisses and suckling designed to bring her to full arousal in record time. It worked. She didn’t resist as Lynne unfastened her pants, and even lifted herself up to facilitate their removal. In a heartbeat Lynne had her pants down to her ankles, and with no further foreplay Janeway felt her knees spread and a very talented tongue touching her most sensitive skin.

“Oh, god,” gasped Janeway. This was the very definition of a quickie, and it felt fantastic. She looked down when Lynne paused, and was further aroused by the expression of raw hunger on her partner’s face.

“You’re so wet already,” Lynne said huskily, as she slid a finger in without breaking eye contact. Janeway closed her eyes at the welcome sensation, and was not happy when it ended almost immediately. But the withdrawal had only been to add a second finger, and soon she gave herself up to the expert ministrations of her lover. In no time at all she was arching her back and crying out as the orgasm flashed through her body. Lynne kept going, however, and Janeway knew she was trying for a second one. She started to push Lynne’s head away, to tell her that they didn’t have time, but Lynne refused to move and a few moments later it didn’t matter anyway. She could feel the familiar sensations of another buildup, and was soon thrashing in her chair as a second, much stronger orgasm swept over her. This time Lynne slowed, placing gentle kisses on Janeway’s inner thighs and wiping her mouth before rising up on her knees.

“You are so beautiful,” she whispered. “Sometimes I can’t believe that I’m the one you chose.”

Janeway put her hands on either side of Lynne’s face. “It wasn’t a choice,” she said. “It was a necessity. And I love what you do to me, but right now I’ve got to get cleaned up so that Revi and Seven won’t know what a sex maniac you are. I’ve got to protect your reputation.”

Lynne laughed as she stood, offering her hand to help Janeway up. “I don’t think my reputation is the one you need to worry about, Captain.”

Janeway shot her unrepentant lover a glare, but was too busy hauling up her trousers and hurrying into the bedroom to give that comment the response it deserved. Lynne dashed into the bathroom to wash her face and hands, making it back out just as the entrance chime sounded.

“I’ll stall them,” she said as she passed Janeway, who was rushing toward the bathroom with a change of clothes.

Janeway jumped into the sonic shower for a sixty-second, teeth-gritting cleanup, then got dressed hurriedly. She would have vastly preferred a hydroshower, but that would have taken too long and besides, the last thing she wanted was to greet her guests with wet hair. She shook her head as she tucked her shirt in and fastened her pants. Turning to the mirror, she saw that her face was still flushed and her lips were slightly swollen. To her eyes, it was patently obvious what they’d been doing, but hopefully their guests wouldn’t pick up on it.

She walked out to find Lynne, Seven and Revi standing in the living room, sipping from wine glasses and discussing music.

“That’s true,” Lynne was saying, “but I think you’ll find just as much going on mathematically in some rock music as you do in classical. I’ll agree that most rock is pretty simple, but some of the artists in my time put out extremely complex music.”

She smiled as Janeway came up, and held out a glass of wine. “Hi, love. Sorry I got you so sweaty during our dance. We’ve got to work on your fitness level so you don’t get so hot.” She winked.

Janeway took the wine and smacked Lynne in the abdomen at the same time. “My fitness level is fine, thank you very much. I just danced harder than you did.”

“Hey!” Lynne protested. “Leading is just as difficult as following.”

“I beg to differ,” said Janeway. “Following is by far the more strenuous position.” She turned a meaningful look on her partner and added, “Next time we dance, I’ll lead, you follow, and we’ll see how you feel in the end.”

Lynne looked momentarily surprised at Janeway’s audacity, but then smiled rakishly and raised her glass to her. “You got yourself a deal. I look forward to the lesson.”

Janeway couldn’t let this go any further—Seven might not pick up on the double entendres, but Revi certainly would. Turning to her guests, she said, “I see Lynne has been trying to convince you of the finer points of rock music.”

“It’s not an area of music that I’ve studied,” said Seven. “I briefly examined it earlier in my research, but dismissed it as a genre. It didn’t interest me.”

“That’s because you weren’t listening to the right artists,” said Lynne.

Janeway rolled her eyes and met Revi’s amused gaze. “Here it comes,” she said.

Lynne wasn’t to be deterred. “You need to check out the good artists, and that doesn’t necessarily mean the ones in the database. I’ve got a whole new library from my visit to Earth that you should really look into. And the very first artists you should check out are Peter Gabriel, Sting, Kate Bush, and Bel Canto. Listen to them and then tell me if you still think rock is too simplistic to be worthy of study.”

Seven looked doubtful.

“Okay, I can see you’re going to require some hard evidence,” said Lynne, who was always eager to introduce new people to her favorite music. “Check this out. Computer, play Bel Canto, Shimmering Warm and Bright.” She cocked her head as the music came on. “You’re going to love this.”

“I was not under the impression that ‘love’ was an appropriate descriptor for an appreciation of music,” said Seven. “Is that not reserved for the emotions of one individual for another?”

“Love can mean a lot of things, Seven,” said Janeway as she led them all to the table. “I can use that word to describe how I feel about Lynne, Voyager, coffee, and a good poem. In each case the word means something different.”

“That is inefficient,” said Seven as she sat across from Revi. Janeway and Lynne brought the food from the replicator and took their own seats.

“On the contrary,” said Revi, “it’s very efficient, Seven. How much more efficient can you get than to have one word to describe multiple things?”

Seven wasn’t convinced. “It’s inexact. There’s too much potential for misinterpretation.”

“Actually, I think Seven’s right.” All heads turned to Lynne, who shrugged. “It’s really just laziness on our part, isn’t it? I’ve gotten in trouble for saying I loved something when in reality, I was really just quite fond of it. It can come back and bite you in the ass.”

Revi laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Janeway took the opportunity to begin serving, and soon the four women were eating and discussing recent events. The main topic of interest, of course, was the communication they’d had with Starfleet the prior week. Lieutenant Barclay of the MIDAS lab had figured out a means of utilizing an itinerant pulsar as an amplifying energy source, enabling the creation of a micro-wormhole that acted as a data conduit. The downside was that the pulsar only came within range of MIDAS once a month, so their communication was limited.

But it was still communication, and it changed everything. Even though they were no closer to home than they’d been before, it felt closer. And knowing that they would now have regular access once a month brought home that much nearer. Nearly everyone on Voyager was thrilled at the opportunity to get letters from home and to write their friends and family. Janeway had already written letters to her mother and sister and put them in the queue, where they waited for the next data transfer. The time lag was going to be hard to handle—three weeks before her letters could be mailed, and another month before she could get a response—but after waiting nearly six years she figured another two months wouldn’t kill her. She looked across the table at Lynne, smiling as she thought about her family’s reaction to her news. Then her smile faltered as she remembered that Lynne would have no letters coming. Well, she could change that. She’d pull her letters off the queue and add a paragraph to each, asking her mom and Phoebe to write Lynne as well. She contemplated the very frightening concept of her sister writing her fiancée. That would be something, wouldn’t it? God, imagine Phoebe and Lynne in the same room together!

As the conversation flowed around her, she watched Seven and Revi. Her data transfer during last week’s communication included all of her records and reports to date, which meant Revi’s “MIA, presumed dead” status would now be updated. Her family would be notified that she was alive. Revi must have known this, but she hadn’t said anything about her family and she wasn’t bringing it up now. Did she have anyone waiting for her on Earth? Did Seven? She was aware that Seven had grandparents living on Earth, but would they contact her? Or would they want nothing to do with their Borg granddaughter?

It occurred to her then, as she watched these women, that for two of them and possibly all three, Voyager and her crew were truly home and family. How many others on Voyager were in this situation? She had always said her crew were a family, but it occurred to her now that the term might actually be literal. Which made her own actions that much more important—she wasn’t just a captain, she was the head of a family. She almost laughed at the thought. Now that’s something they never taught us in command school—Starfleet Guidelines for Parental Command. And to think I never wanted to have children.

After commenting on the physics involved in creating the MIDAS communication, Seven tilted her head as she directed more of her attention to the music. “This is intriguing,” she said, looking at Lynne. “There are multiple rhythms overlapping one another.”

“Syncopation,” said Lynne. Seven nodded.

“Yes. You’re correct, this is more complex than the rock music I had examined earlier.”

“Uh oh, there they go,” said Janeway to Revi. “Lynne’s found a new mark.”

Revi smiled. “Seven’s not a mark. She’s completely fascinated and enjoying the analysis. It’s fun for me to feel it.” She glanced across the table at Seven, who was already engrossed in a discussion of the music with Lynne. Janeway didn’t miss the look of affection on Revi’s face.

“I’m afraid you won’t be hearing what I promised when I invited you,” she said.

“What was that?”

“Lynne’s commentary regarding my opinions about our wedding.”

“Oh, right. Too bad, I was looking forward to that.” Revi’s grin was conspiratorial. “So why don’t I get to hear it?”

“Because,” said Janeway, “right after you left my ready room I solved the whole problem. I just haven’t had a chance to tell Lynne yet.”

“Tell me what?” asked Lynne, who had looked up at the mention of her name.

“That I’m ready to set our wedding date for as soon as possible,” said Janeway, enjoying the surprise on Lynne’s face.

“What? What brought that on? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I would have, sweetheart, if you hadn’t distracted me with your…dancing.” The pause was just enough to get Revi’s attention, and the amused smile on her face let Janeway know she was taking chances, but she was in too good a mood to care. Besides, Revi was a good friend.

Lynne had the grace to look slightly abashed. “Oh. Well, I’m all ears now.”

“No you are not,” said Seven. “Your ears comprise only zero point three percent of your body mass. You’re being inexact again.”

Lynne shot her a look, and Seven raised her eyebrow.

“Fine,” said Lynne. “What I meant to say was, ‘You have my full and complete attention.’ Is that better?”

Seven shook her head. “Now you’re being redundant,” she observed. “That is nearly as inefficient as being inexact. You can give Kathryn either your full or your complete attention. Not both.”

“Anyone ever tell you how completely annoying you are?” asked Lynne.

“With great frequency,” said Seven.

Lynne grinned. “Yeah, me too,” she said. Seven nodded, but the slight curve to her lips gave her away. She was getting better at teasing, and Janeway loved watching it.

“If you ladies are done…” she said in her captain’s voice. All heads swiveled her way, but she locked her gaze on Lynne. “What I meant to tell you was that Voyager is due for a systems overhaul that will require landing her. Normally I despise these kinds of repairs, because this ship is never so vulnerable as when she’s grounded, but it occurred to me that in this instance I could make good use of the time.” She paused. “How would you feel about an outdoor wedding?”

Lynne’s intake of breath was audible to all of them. “You mean it? God, yes!” With a whoop she was up and out of her chair, flying around the table toward the captain at an alarming rate of speed. Janeway stood up out of self-defense, and was immediately swept off her feet by an extremely enthusiastic lover. Lynne twirled her around, set her back down and planted a kiss on her that quickly moved beyond the bounds of propriety. Janeway gently pushed her back and whispered in her ear, “We can finish this later, sweetheart. We still have guests.”

“Sorry guys,” said Lynne happily. “Hope you didn’t see anything that shocked you.” She winked at Janeway, who rolled her eyes, and they both returned to their chairs.

Revi was laughing, and even Seven had a small smile on her face. “Well, I for one am extremely shocked,” said Revi. “I never imagined that anyone could physically pick up the captain without suffering major consequences. Electrocution at the very least.”

“See,” said Janeway to Lynne, her voice accusing. “You’ve already ruined my reputation and we aren’t even married yet.”

“Don’t worry,” said Revi. “I’m sure it will only get worse from here.”

Seven was looking at Janeway. “Kathryn, I believe that I have located a viable planet for this event. When I received your orders today, I was simply scanning for a planet that would satisfy the defensive parameters you outlined. But the planet I located may also satisfy certain aesthetic requirements as well.”

Janeway had just picked up her napkin, and now she threw it on the table. “Let’s see it, then,” she said. “You can call up the file on my terminal.”

Chairs scraped as the women stood and made their way over to Janeway’s terminal. Seven sat in front of it with her usual rigid precision, fingers flying over the control panel. A moment later the scans of the suggested planet appeared onscreen, along with a visual.

Three heads bent forward as Janeway, Lynne and Revi all examined the data. Janeway was the first to straighten.

“Temperate climate, no recent signs of shipping activity, well out of normal shipping lanes—Seven, I think you’ve found the site of our wedding. What do you think, Lynne?”

Lynne wasn’t even looking at the scans. Her eyes were locked on the visual of the planet itself—an uninhabited M class planet, with two major land masses on an otherwise oceanic world. The green vegetation of the continents was easily visible, as was the white spine of a mountain range snaking its way down the center of the northernmost land mass.

“Oh yeah,” she said, not taking her eyes off the visual. “Kathryn, can we go climbing on our honeymoon?”

Janeway looked at her partner. The energy Lynne had radiated upon her arrival that evening had returned, and she seemed mesmerized. Putting her arm around Lynne’s waist, Janeway bent over so that their heads were side by side.

“Do you promise not to kick my ass?” she asked, looking straight ahead at the screen. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lynne turn to look at her, and she turned her head as well. The unfettered joy in Lynne’s eyes, she thought, would probably be worth every sore muscle she knew she’d end up with. Probably.

“I promise to take total care of you,” said Lynne in a low voice. And Janeway knew she would.

“Then yes, on one condition,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“That we spend the other half of our honeymoon doing what I want to do.”

“And that is?”

Janeway smiled, her thoughts centered on a warm beach, a good book, an ice cold drink, and no one but her and Lynne for miles in any direction.

“Absolutely nothing,” she breathed.

Lynne didn’t look nearly as ecstatic at this possibility as Janeway was, but she nodded, closing the tiny distance between them and giving Janeway a quick, soft kiss. “It’s a deal.”

They both straightened and turned to their guests. Revi was trying unsuccessfully to hide her smirk, and Janeway just shook her head at her. Then she looked at Seven, still sitting in front of the terminal.

“Seven, how far is this at warp six?”

“Four point three days,” answered Seven promptly.

“Right,” said Janeway, thinking out loud, “and B’Elanna said that repairs and upgrades would take five days. That has to be finished before we can do this, Lynne. I’m not about to release the crew for our wedding unless we can get them back on board and get Voyager into space at a moment’s notice.” Lynne nodded. “So,” continued Janeway, “that means our wedding will take place in ten days. I’ll be swamped with landing preparations beforehand, and then I’ll be heading a repair team once we land. So I’m not going to have much time for planning a wedding. How would you feel about taking that on?”

“I’m okay with it,” said Lynne. “If you’ll make sure Tuvok gives me the time.”

Janeway nodded. “That’s not a problem. You’ve earned some leave.” She hesitated, then turned and put a hand on Seven’s shoulder. “Seven,” she said, “Lynne and I have talked a lot about who we’d like to have at our wedding. And now that it’s coming up, we need to start asking people. So I’m asking you now: would you do me the honor of standing up for me?”

Seven’s shoulders moved as she prepared to rise from the chair, but then she stopped and shot a look at Revi. Returning her gaze to Janeway, Seven’s face changed from her normal impassive expression to one of wonder.

“You wish me to be a member of your bridal party?”

“We’re not having bridal parties,” said Janeway, looking into the clear blue eyes of this extraordinary young woman who meant so much to her. “We’re just choosing one person each to stand by us. I would like you to be that one person, Seven. It’s traditional to ask a family member or a close friend, and you’re both to me.”

Seven said nothing, and Janeway was just beginning to wonder if she’d somehow made a misstep, when the most astonishing thing happened. A tear slid down Seven’s cheek, and at the same time her face split into the largest smile anyone had ever seen on the ex-Borg. Janeway nearly took a step back in her surprise. Seven smiling was no less than breathtaking.

Standing up, Seven looked down at Janeway and said, “I would be honored, Kathryn. I am…stunned that you would ask me, but thrilled as well. Thank you.” And then she astonished Janeway for the second time in as many minutes when she stepped forward and took the captain in a gentle hug.

Janeway wrapped her arms around Seven’s slim form and hugged her fiercely, feeling Seven’s arms tighten as well. They stood there for a long moment, basking in a closeness that would once have been unimaginable, and Janeway thought that if she never managed to get Voyager home, she could still point to this moment as proof that her life had counted for something. The caring young woman holding her right now would have been permanently lost to the Borg had Janeway not changed her destiny. And changed my own right along with it, she thought.

Eventually Seven’s arms loosened and they stepped back from each other. That amazing smile was still transforming Seven’s face as she turned to Revi. They looked at one another for just a moment, and Janeway would have given a great deal to know what they were saying.

Lynne stepped forward then, capturing both of Seven’s hands in her own and holding them loosely between them. “Seven,” she said, “I want you to know that I was planning to ask you to stand up for me, but Kathryn put dibs on you first. We nearly came to blows over it.”

Janeway rolled her eyes. “I think you all know that’s not true,” she said.

“Okay, we didn’t, but it’s quite true that we both wanted to ask you. You’re part of my family too, you know, and I love you like the sister I never had.” Lynne smiled at Seven, who stood motionless. “So can I have one of those hugs, too? It looked great.”

Seven simply nodded, apparently speechless once again. Lynne pulled her in by their linked hands, and they held each other in a sweet, intimate hug. As Janeway watched, she was certain that she’d never before felt this contented. She was surrounded by dear friends and people she loved. No, she amended. I’m surrounded by family. She glanced away from the two women and caught Revi watching her. As soon as their eyes met, Revi nodded her head, an expression of warm approval washing over her face. Janeway returned the nod, understanding immediately. Yes, Revi, she is special. And now she knows it.

Lynne and Seven separated, each surreptitiously wiping tears off their faces. Then Lynne laughed shakily, reaching out and brushing a gentle hand across Seven’s cheek. “Guess there’s no shame in crying if we’re both doing it,” she said.

“There’s no shame in crying, period,” said Revi. “I could give you all sorts of medical reasons why it’s good for you. Or I could just tell you to stop worrying about your reputations and go with what’s natural.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about my reputation,” said Lynne breezily, shooting a loaded glance at Janeway.

“Come on, ladies,” said Janeway in an effort to deflect the conversation from potentially dangerous ground. “We still have dessert to get through.”

They made their way back to the table, everyone pitching in to clear dishes and carry dessert back.

“Tiramisu,” observed Seven with a note of satisfaction in her voice. “I have come to greatly appreciate this dish.”

“Around Kathryn you hardly have a choice,” said Lynne. “I thought we could serve something else, but you’d think I’d suggested flying Voyager straight into a star. With the shields down.”

“That is not true,” protested Janeway. “I’m amenable to alternatives. I just didn’t see any reason for an alternative tonight.”

Revi laughed. She might only have been on board for two months, but she already knew all about Janeway’s coffee addiction, which had translated itself into an equal love for the coffee-flavored dessert. “It’s fine by me,” she said. “What I can’t figure out is why you like it, too, Lynne. Don’t you hate coffee?”

“Yes, but I love chocolate,” said Lynne happily, forking a sizable chunk of the dessert into her mouth.

Revi looked at her plate. “But there’s hardly any chocolate in this.”

“There’s enough,” Lynne said with her mouth full.

“Lynne,” said Janeway, “you never did tell me about Tuvok.”

All eyes swung to Lynne, who stopped chewing, looked around the table, and then swallowed. “Well, we had our usual sparring match today, and we were practicing a couple of new moves that Tuvok taught me last week. And then I threw something at him that he’d showed me several months ago, but that we haven’t used recently. I guess it took him by surprise, because I actually took him right down to the mat. It was the proudest moment I’ve had in a long time.”

“You defeated Commander Tuvok in a sparring match?” asked Seven.

Lynne held her hand up in front of her, shaking her head. “Oh no. No, no, no, no. I just took him down, which is something I’ve never been able to accomplish before, unless he wanted me to. I don’t have the skills yet to keep an advantage like that over him, and the day I do is the day Kathryn awards me Grand Master Kick The Shit Out Of Anyone status. Because at that point I’ll be some kind of goddess. I don’t think anyone on Voyager could defeat Tuvok.”

“I could,” said Seven in a matter-of-fact voice. That silenced the room. Both Lynne and Janeway could vividly recall Seven’s ordeal when she’d been captured and forced to fight in a Tsunkatse arena. Her tutelage under a Hirogen veteran had been extremely effective, though Seven herself had been devastated by her newly-awakened ability to injure and kill.

“I guess you could at that,” said Lynne at last. “I’m just glad you’re both on our side.”

Seven looked at them. “I’ll always be on your side,” she said.

“Amen to that,” said Janeway, holding up a forkful of tiramisu in salute. Her toast seemed to break the solemn moment, and soon the four women were off on another discussion. The tiramisu vanished, to be replaced by two cups of coffee, one of tea and one of hot chocolate. Ever since Lynne had introduced Seven to hot chocolate, the ex-Borg had it at every opportunity. She’d taken some teasing about it, but refused to be baited. Seven had found her drink and that was all there was to it.

“Kathryn,” said Seven suddenly, “I am aware of the human regard for anniversaries. Has it occurred to you that if you wait one more day, your wedding will take place on the one year anniversary of Lynne’s arrival on Voyager?”

Janeway and Lynne stared at each other. Plainly Lynne hadn’t thought of it, which made Janeway feel better about her own ignorance. “No, Seven, it hadn’t occurred to us,” she said without breaking their gaze. “What do you think, Lynne? Shall we put it off for one more day?”

Lynne nodded, beaming. “It’s perfect,” she said. “That day last year marked the beginning of my new life, quite literally, and this year it will mark the beginning of a figurative new life.”

“And a literal one,” added Revi. “Because I can’t imagine that your life will ever be the same after getting yourself legally attached to Kathryn. Have you written an escape clause into your contract?”

Janeway made a rather rude gesture, which broke up both Revi and Lynne and caused Seven’s eyebrow to shoot clear into her hairline.

They moved to the couch and chairs, sipping their drinks and keeping up two separate conversations. Seven and Lynne were once again immersed in music, with Lynne happily playing more of her beloved Bel Canto for the purposes of technical dissection. Janeway and Revi were discussing a book that Revi had recently finished, after borrowing it from Janeway’s collection. Their conversation came to a halt, however, when Seven began to quietly sing along with the music.

Lynne listened for a minute and then held up a hand. “God, Seven, your voice is gorgeous. You’ve got perfect pitch, too, which is really unusual. But you’re being too—well, too exact.”

“Explain,” said Seven.

“You’re singing each note separately. Listen to how the vocalist is changing from one note to the next.”

All four women listened intently.

Seven nodded. “She’s not completing one before starting the next.”

“I’m not an expert by any means,” said Lynne, “but I think that’s called sliding the note. Listen.” And she began whistling along with the melody, exaggerating the slides. After listening for a few bars, Seven joined in, her own clear, pure tones blending with the vocalist’s. She missed a few times, but soon was sliding her notes like a professional. Janeway and Revi were riveted.

Watching Seven, Lynne gradually backed out of the song, leaving Seven’s vocals to stand alone. When the song ended, both Janeway and Revi applauded spontaneously.

Seven’s face was lit with the excitement of learning something new. “That was…fun,” she said, obviously trying out a new entry in her vocabulary. “I have never before attempted to match an existing vocal track; it’s much more satisfying than singing alone. May I do another?”

Lynne looked at Janeway.

“Don’t worry, you’re not bothering us,” said Janeway.

“Gods, no,” added Revi. “I had no idea we’d be treated to a private concert. Do go on.”

Lynne looked back at Seven. “Okay. Which song?”

Seven thought for a moment, then named a track. Lynne nodded and cued it up on the computer. A moment later Seven’s clear voice filled the room, and Janeway wished she could record it. She thought, as she leaned back against the couch and watched, that life simply could not get any better than this.

 

 

-----

 

 

“Kathryn?”

“Mmm?” Janeway was nearly asleep.

“Did I thank you for solving our wedding problem?”

Slightly more awake, Janeway snuggled further back into Lynne’s warm body. “Actually, I think you thanked me in advance.”

She felt Lynne’s stomach move as she chuckled. “I guess you could look at it that way.”

Suddenly Janeway was reminded of something. “What does ‘macha’ mean, anyway?”

“Oh yeah, I guess we never got around to that, did we? Um, do you use the word ‘macho’ anymore?”

“No. At least, I’ve never heard of it.”

“Wow, it really is a better world.” Lynne shifted a bit. “It originally came from ‘machismo,’ which was a term to describe the belief of Latin American cultures that men should be in control, in charge, strong, tough, and irresistible to women.” Janeway snorted. “Then it made its way out of Latin America and into North America, where it was used to describe any man who showed those traits. So out of self-defense, a lot of women changed the masculine ‘o’ to a feminine ‘a’, and took the word for themselves. So when I’m feeling macha, I’m feeling strong and tough—”

“And irresistible to women?”

The arm that was draped over her waist moved, and a gentle hand cupped Janeway’s breast. “Well, to one woman, I hope.”

“Good answer,” said Janeway, covering the hand with her own. “I can’t be responsible for my actions if you act macha around other women.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Janeway was getting drowsier.

“Kathryn?”

Janeway jerked a little as she came awake. “What?”

“Have you noticed that Seven is using more contractions?”

By now Janeway was well used to Lynne’s non sequiturs, which seemed to occur most frequently at night. She gave the question due consideration, recalling Seven’s part in that evening’s conversation.

“No, I hadn’t, but now that you mention it, you’re right. She is.” Janeway marveled at the realization. “I wonder if that’s just a natural progression of her growth, or if her interlink with Revi has anything to do with it?”

“Maybe it’s both. I know she was actively studying language usage before Revi came along. She told B’Elanna and me that she was using us, and you, as models.”

“I can only imagine how B’Elanna felt about being a language model.”

“Actually, she kind of preened over it,” said Lynne. “But I don’t remember Seven using contractions as much until this last month. Whatever her inspiration, it’s pretty cool.” She paused. “Have you ever seen her cry before?”

Janeway didn’t have to think about that one. “Just a few times, during her first days on board. Since then, only once, right after we brought Revi on board. Tonight shocked the hell out of me. I’ve seen Seven in some desperate situations, including one that had me in tears—but she didn’t cry. If she did, it was where no one saw. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I think that when the time comes when I have to account for everything I’ve done, the fact that I caused Seven’s first tears of happiness is going to weigh pretty heavily on the good side.”

Lynne’s arm moved to Janeway’s waist and squeezed. “I think when that time comes, you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Janeway shook her head. “I’ve got a lot to make up for, Lynne.”

“Hey.” Lynne pulled Janeway onto her back and leaned over her, looking intently into her eyes in the dimness of the starlit room. “Everyone has things they have to make up for.”

“Not like mine.” Janeway knew what Lynne was trying to do, but she also knew her partner couldn’t really understand the burden she carried. Most of the time she managed to push it back in her mind, but every now and then it jumped out at her.

“You’re in a position where your actions happen to affect a lot of people. So don’t focus on just one side of it, Kathryn. Because when you do good, you do it on a big scale. Everyone on this ship owes you their lives, several times over from what I’ve read. I’m also aware of at least one entire civilization that owes its ongoing existence to you. So knock it off, okay? If there is some sort of cosmic weighing of scales, you’re going to make the good side hit bottom so hard they’ll have to recalibrate it after they finish with you.”

Janeway couldn’t help but laugh. She wrapped her arms around Lynne’s neck and looked into eyes that glittered from reflected starlight. “I appreciate your faith in me. When that time comes, I hope you’re there to represent me. I don’t see how I could go wrong with a cheerleader like you helping to tip the scales.”

Lynne kissed her, then settled down with her head on Janeway’s shoulder. “I hope I’m there too, because I don’t want to be here if you’re not.”

Startled, Janeway squeezed Lynne tightly and kissed the top of her head. She wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. But Lynne didn’t seem to expect a response. She snuggled in, wrapping an arm around Janeway’s waist. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” It wasn’t long before Lynne’s breathing evened out, while Janeway was wide awake, her thoughts whirling.

Goddammit. And she’s the one who woke me up. I hate it when she does this to me.

She moved her hand lightly up and down Lynne’s smooth back, reveling in the feel of solid muscles just beneath the skin. On the other hand, it wasn’t very often that Lynne snuggled like this. Usually they spooned, her back to Lynne’s front, and she was enjoying the chance to hold her partner this way.

Oh well. If I have to be awake, I can’t think of a better place to be.

Five minutes later she was asleep.

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 3

 

 

It had been a fairly quiet morning on the bridge, and Janeway was finally bored enough to head for her ready room. She still had a few reports to go through from the previous day, and there wasn’t enough action on the bridge to give her a good reason to stay away from them.

Naturally, she couldn’t start on the reports until she’d prepared her coffee, looked out the viewport for awhile, thought about the events of the prior evening, and generally earned herself a gold star in Procrastination 101. When she finally seated herself behind her desk, she was given an unexpected reprieve as the entrance chime rang.

“Come,” she called, and was somewhat surprised to see Commander Tuvok enter. He’d been on the bridge with her all morning and hadn’t said a word beyond what was called for in the course of performing his duty. If he’d been waiting for her to leave the bridge, then this was serious. Or personal. Or both.

“Tuvok,” she said in a neutral tone. “Please, have a seat.”

Her security chief took a ramrod straight position in the chair. “Captain. I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you. It concerns Ms. Hamilton.”

Janeway kept her surprise off her face by dint of considerable effort. “Go ahead.”

“As you know, Ms. Hamilton has been training with me for seven and a half months. For much of that time I have either tutored her or directed her training through holodeck programs. In addition to the regulation security curriculum, we have worked with Vulcan meditation techniques and martial arts. It was in our martial arts training yesterday that she accomplished what no one on this ship has ever done: she overcame me in a sparring session.”

Janeway raised her eyebrow. “She said she knocked you to the mat. Are you telling me that no one has ever done that before?”

“No. Not unless I allowed it as part of the lesson. In this instance, I did not allow it. This was not a tuck-and-roll fall, Captain. It was not planned in order to channel the force of her move against me. It was, quite simply, a complete loss of advantage. For a moment Ms. Hamilton held the upper hand in our match. She has been improving at a very rapid pace, and I expected this to happen eventually. I am…surprised, however, that it occurred this early in her training.”

Janeway was starting to get suspicious. “There’s more going on in this training than I’ve been aware of, isn’t there?”

Tuvok inclined his head. “In the beginning of our lessons together, I was simply attempting to impart basic self-defense skills. But Ms. Hamilton quickly established herself as an extremely talented and determined student. For several months now I have been training her with a specific task in mind. Yesterday she proved to me that she is ready for that task. What I have yet to ascertain, however, is whether you are prepared to accept her into the position.”

The suspicion had turned into a full-scale alarm. “And what position is that?”

“Your personal security escort.”

Janeway stared. Whatever she might have thought was coming, this wasn’t it. Straightening in her chair, she said, “I do not need a personal security escort. And if I did, it wouldn’t be Lynne.” It had taken Janeway months to come to terms with Lynne going on any away missions at all, and even then she’d managed to make sure that none of those were likely to be dangerous. She’d be damned if she’d allow Lynne to accompany her on all of her away missions.

“I expected initial resistance, Captain. But I respectfully request that you hear out my logic.”

As if there could be anything logical about Lynne becoming a full-time personal security escort! Janeway glared at Tuvok, who simply waited. And she knew he’d wait forever if necessary. At last she sighed, giving into the inevitable.

“Go ahead.”

Tuvok nodded. “I have long been concerned about your tendency to leave the ship unescorted. You have a documented…distaste for security escorts of any kind.”

“Documented, Tuvok?” Despite her instant fear for Lynne, Janeway was amused by this statement. The only one who would document this would be Tuvok himself. And how like him that would be.

“Yes. It is my duty to ensure the security of the captain, and if the captain herself will not allow me to fulfill my duty, then I have no choice but to document the circumstances. At some point in time, I may be required to stand before a board of inquiry and explain why neither I nor any of my staff were with the captain when she was killed.”

That set Janeway back on her heels. In all the times she’d refused an escort, she’d never thought of what it would mean for Tuvok’s position should she die on an away mission. He was right, he would be seen as failing in his duty unless he could prove otherwise.

Tuvok pressed the advantage. “When Ms. Hamilton’s talents became apparent, as well as the nature of her relationship with you, I began to consider a somewhat…unorthodox solution to the problem. I believed you would be more inclined to accept Ms. Hamilton as a personal escort than any other member of my staff, provided that you could be convinced of her professional capability. With that in mind I redirected her training. As of yesterday, she has reached a point at which I am ready to demonstrate that capability to you. Captain, Ms. Hamilton is more qualified than anyone on this ship, save Seven of Nine or myself, in protecting you from physical harm.”

Janeway couldn’t believe she was hearing this. She’d known about Lynne’s lessons with Tuvok for months—hell, she’d even made them part of her duties so that she and Tuvok could train on their duty shifts instead of on their own time—but never had Lynne given her any reason to believe that she was at that level of advancement.

“How is it, Commander, that I have not been kept informed of Lynne’s progress—and the altered goal of her training?”

“I have consistently reported that her progress was satisfactory, Captain. I did not inform you of the altered goal because there was no reason to do so unless or until Ms. Hamilton showed herself capable of accomplishing that goal. I do not inform you of my expectations for any of my staff. I simply report to you when they have fallen short, or when they have fulfilled them and are ready for promotion or reassignment.”

Goddammit, she was being snowed under with Vulcan logic. She could argue that Tuvok should have reported more than satisfactory progress, which would at least have given her some warning. But then he’d simply say that his expectations for Lynne were higher, based on her talent, and therefore her progress was indeed satisfactory to those expectations. With an inward sigh, she conceded the point.

“All right. If you say she’s that good, then she must be. However, I’m not convinced of the necessity of reassigning her.” There’s no way in this universe or any other that I will knowingly take her into danger.

“Ms. Hamilton is a goal-oriented individual. She will not be satisfied indefinitely with her training and the occasional away mission. As her supervisor it is my duty to provide for her ongoing professional development, and in my opinion, she is ready for reassignment. Failing that, I predict she will become bored and disaffected. You and I both understand the consequences of stagnation to a member of any Starfleet crew. Such consequences are magnified for this crew, due to our situation, and even more so for Ms. Hamilton, due to her displacement in time.”

Janeway narrowed her eyes. “This feels remarkably like Vulcan manipulation.”

For a moment she thought he actually looked wounded. But that, of course, was impossible.

“It is simply a statement of fact. Ms. Hamilton has a greater need for a sense of worth and belonging than almost any other member of this crew. Therefore, should that need be denied, the negative consequences will also be greater. Obviously the final decision is yours, but my professional opinion is that the danger to Ms. Hamilton is greater if you do not allow this, than if you do.”

They stared at each other in silence for what seemed like minutes.

“Tuvok,” said Janeway at last, “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m sure we can find some other way of keeping her challenged without putting her in danger.”

“Due to her training and her capabilities, she would have less chance of being harmed than you do.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And I suspect that, were she here, she would argue forcefully for this opportunity. She may not be Starfleet, but she is a contributing member of this crew whose services can be of great use.”

Janeway took a breath to respond, but Tuvok beat her to it.

“Captain, it is not logical for us to continue this discussion in the abstract. I believe that a visual demonstration is the only effective method for convincing you of Ms. Hamilton’s capabilities. Therefore, I have arranged a test for her at 1600 today. I respectfully request your attendance.”

“What sort of test?” asked Janeway warily.

“A sparring match between her and myself. In addition, your presence will present an opportunity for me to test her in a different way than I have been able to do before.”

“Meaning…”

“I will be able to directly test her ability to protect you. She has never before had to fight with you watching. It is necessary to determine whether that will affect her performance. If it does, she may not be suitable as your personal escort.”

Suddenly Janeway had an urge to attend this test if only to distract Lynne in any way she could. After all, if Lynne failed the test, it would take this whole mess right out of her hands. She crushed the thought almost as soon as it registered. Lynne deserved her support, not her selfish hindrance.

“All right. In the training center?”

“No. The center is always in use; tests are conducted in private. I have reserved time in Holodeck Two.”

Janeway nodded. “Holodeck Two, sixteen hundred. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Captain.” He rose from the chair and walked out, leaving Janeway with a pile of reports on her desk and a mental state entirely unsuited to any form of concentration whatsoever. She walked to the upper level and ordered another cup of coffee. It was going to be a long day.

 

 

-----

 

 

Chakotay watched Janeway vanish into the turbolift, her face set in a stern mask. After nearly six years he could read her body language very well, and he knew something was up. As usual, she hadn’t seen fit to share it with him. He’d noticed a growing trend over the last two months regarding Janeway’s reluctance to share her thoughts, speculations and concerns with him. She was as professional as ever, but the more personal aspect of their working relationship had faded. And he knew why, too. Dr. Revi Sandovhar was a regular visitor to the ready room these days, and socialized with the captain fairly often after hours. It was obvious to him that the ex-Borg had worked her way into a position of influence over the captain, just as she had with Seven of Nine. He’d been watching, and although no one else seemed to notice her maneuvers, he did. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sandovhar had been accepted almost immediately in both the captain’s ready room and her social circle.

The turbolift doors opened, revealing none other than the object of his thoughts. Sandovhar walked across the bridge and pressed the entry chime to the ready room, obviously expecting Janeway to be inside.

Chakotay didn’t hesitate. Rising from his chair, he turned the conn over to Ensign Kim and walked up behind Sandovhar.

“Come on in, Doctor,” he said, stepping into the door’s sensor range. The door swished open, and he indicated to Sandovhar that she should enter first. She gave him a look of curiosity, but walked inside without a word. He moved around her and took a seat behind Janeway’s desk.

“What can I do for you?” he inquired with as courteous a tone as he could muster.

She looked around the ready room and back to him. “I’m sorry, the computer said that Captain Janeway was here. I must have just missed her.”

“By about thirty seconds,” Chakotay agreed. “She said she wouldn’t be back on the bridge before the end of the shift. But I’m sure I can help with whatever you needed.” Let’s see her come up with a good reason for being here.

Sandovhar flashed him a smile that he knew was completely insincere. “Thank you, Commander, but I’ll just wait until I can speak with the captain directly. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to leave.

“Sit down, Doctor.” His tone was no longer courteous.

Slowly, she turned back. When their eyes met, it was plain that any pretense of tolerance between them had been dropped. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “I’ve been sitting for the last several hours. I’d prefer to stand to hear whatever you obviously need to say to me.” Her face was carefully blank.

“Suit yourself. I simply wished to remind you that, as first officer, my job is to act as liaison between the captain and the rest of the crew. I’ve noticed that you tend to bypass me and go directly to the captain. Of course, it has been awhile since you were aboard a starship, so perhaps you’ve forgotten protocol.” His voice hardened. “Which is, you report to me. The captain doesn’t have time to deal with every crew member directly. She has undoubtedly been giving you some leeway, due to fact that you’ve been…adjusting to being back in Starfleet. But I think two months is plenty of time, don’t you? I suggest you begin complying with regulations, Doctor.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’m aware of regulations, Commander. I’m also aware that senior medical staff are not required to report to the first officer.”

“But you aren’t senior medical staff, are you?”

She regarded him silently.

“All right, Commander,” she said at last. “Why don’t we take off the gloves? You’ve made no secret of your dislike for me, and now you’re trying to block my access to Captain Janeway. Why? What do you think you’ll gain?”

“Now you see,” he said conversationally, “that’s the difference between you and me. Just because your actions are motivated by personal gain, you assume the same of me. But I’m motivated by concern for my captain and my crew.” He dropped the friendly tone and allowed his loathing to show through. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, which, given the Borg implants you’re still covered with, isn’t very far.” He saw her eyes narrow and congratulated himself on landing a blow. “I’ve been watching you, Sandovhar. I know you hooked Seven into a Borg interlink the moment you stepped on board. Did she have a choice about that? Oh, I forgot, you don’t make a habit of giving people choices. And now you’re getting to Captain Janeway, too. But you’re going to make a mistake somewhere, Sandovhar, and when you do, I’ll be ready.” He leaned back in his chair. “I just wanted you to be aware that not everyone is falling for your act. Some of us still see you for what you really are.”

She eyed him and then shook her head. “Obviously you’re waiting for me to ask you what I really am, but since I’m quite aware of that myself, I’ll decline. Thanks for letting me know where you stand, Commander. And just so the air is clear between us, I haven’t been watching you. I’ve got more important things to do with my time.” Before he could respond, she wheeled and marched out.

He stared at the closed door and went over their confrontation in his mind. Frowning, he acknowledged that she’d gotten a pretty good blow in, too. The score seemed to be even. But it felt good to have come right out and told her. She’d have to be more careful now. And he was damned if she’d get anything over on this crew on his watch.

 

 

-----

 

 

The holodeck doors parted to reveal a muhok, a Vulcan martial arts center. Traditional stone walls enclosed a spacious room, lit by brilliant sunlight that streamed through the numerous windows and skylights. There was no furniture save for a single low table at one end of the room, on which a Vulcan prayer lamp burned. Both Tuvok and Lynne, dressed in matching rough white tunics and pants, knelt before the table. Janeway paused at the threshold, feeling a bit like an intruder. This was a place of ritual and respect, and even though she’d been asked to come, she knew enough of Vulcan culture to understand that further progress would require invitation.

Tuvok rose from his position and turned. “Greetings, Captain. We thank you for your attendance. Please enter.” He indicated that she should stand at one end of the room.

Janeway stepped onto the padded floor of the muhok, which absorbed the sound of her boots. By the time she reached the end of the room and turned, Lynne and Tuvok were standing in the middle of the practice floor, facing each other.

“Ms. Hamilton, are you ready for your test?”

Lynne nodded. “Yes, Savensu,” she said, using a Vulcan term that roughly translated as ‘honored teacher.’

“Do you understand why the Captain is here?”

Lynne shot Janeway a glance, then returned her gaze to Tuvok. “I can only assume that she is here as witness, Savensu.”

“That is partially correct. She is also part of your test.”

Lynne’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“We have trained with distractions before, but you have never had an emotional connection with them. This will be a standard shin zu’tin match. Prepare yourself.”

“Yes, Savensu.” Lynne bowed deeply from the waist. Tuvok acknowledged the bow with a nod. Both combatants slipped in their mouth guards and stepped apart to assume defensive stances. Another nod from Tuvok, and they began circling each other. The match was on.

Janeway, for her part, was getting over her shock at seeing Lynne behave in such a subservient manner. Her partner was many things, but subservient was most definitely not one of them. It had taken her months to even acknowledge the chain of command, and she certainly hadn’t hesitated to jump right off it when she felt the need to do so. Yet here she was, treating Tuvok with a level of respect that Janeway wouldn’t have thought her capable of. Apparently, Lynne’s training with Tuvok was a whole world that Janeway hadn’t known about.

The slow dance of the combatants ended when Tuvok suddenly attacked. Janeway couldn’t even keep track of the lightning fast exchange of blows, kicks, blocks and parries. There was no immediate difference in the abilities of the two identically dressed fighters; had it not been for Tuvok’s dark skin and Lynne’s braid, Janeway would have been hard pressed to keep track of who was who. She was stunned by the display, which had started out at a furious pace and only paused for brief periods before continuing at the same speed. They were moving all over the practice floor in their efforts to best each other, and Janeway winced at the occasional thump and slap of blows that hit their target. Several times Tuvok landed blows that should have sent Lynne flying, but each time she channeled the force into either a spin or a tuck-and-roll, always coming back with renewed energy. Tuvok himself hit the floor twice, both times for a mere moment and in a manner that seemed planned.

As she watched the furious battle, Janeway suddenly understood the import of Lynne’s accomplishment yesterday. And she also realized that although Lynne was not winning, neither was Tuvok.

My god. How did this happen without me knowing? Why didn’t she tell me?

The fight went on for nearly ten minutes—a phenomenal amount of time for hand-to-hand—before Tuvok suddenly stepped back. Both fighters were drenched with sweat and breathing hard. Janeway knew that she herself would have been flat on her back long before now. This was a level of fighting that far surpassed standard Starfleet training.

Removing his mouth guard, Tuvok said, “You have sucessfully completed this match. Take five minutes to rest and rehydrate.”

Lynne bowed again and pulled her own guard out. “Thank you, Savensu. May I speak with the captain?”

He nodded, and they both walked to the low table to retrieve their water bottles. Lynne took a long drink and then came over to Janeway, bottle in hand.

“Hi, love,” she said, still breathing hard. She wiped a sleeve across her face with little visible effect; the sweat continued to pour off her. “Tuvok knocked my socks off when he said you’d be here. Thanks for coming; it means a lot to me.” She gulped down more water, never taking her eyes off the captain.

Janeway, for her part, suddenly felt guilty that she’d never come to watch Lynne before now. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Lynne, I had no idea you were this good. It seems like only yesterday you were just learning the basics of self-defense.”

Lynne grinned. “It was.”

Janeway tapped her lover on the chest. “You, my sweaty friend, are very good at keeping secrets. Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were at this level?”

Lynne shrugged. “I don’t know what level I’m at, Kathryn. Besides holodeck opponents, I’ve only ever fought Tuvok, and he’s unbeatable. I’m getting better at holding my own, though.”

Janeway shook her head. “You never fail to surprise me. Do you know that Tuvok says you’re better than anyone on Voyager except himself and Seven?”

The expression on Lynne’s face answered her question. “He said that?”

“Yes. And based on what I’ve seen so far, I plan to never piss you off again.”

Lynne laughed. “Can I quote you on that?”

“Absolutely not.”

The moment was interrupted by Tuvok’s arrival. Break time was over. With a final look of affection, Lynne turned to follow Tuvok back onto the practice floor. They had only walked a few paces, however, when Tuvok stopped and turned.

“You did well in the shin zu’tin,” he said. “It is time to increase the level of difficulty.” He looked at Janeway. “Captain, in this next test it will be Ms. Hamilton’s task to protect you from me. I am an enemy combatant attempting to reach you; Ms. Hamilton will be working to prevent this.”

Janeway nodded her understanding. This would make things much harder for Lynne; her movements would be greatly restricted by the necessity of keeping herself between Janeway and the “enemy.”

Tuvok looked back at Lynne. “This match will be shin na’shon,” he said. “Do you accept?”

Lynne paused and then nodded. “Yes, Savensu.”

Janeway had no idea what that meant, but Tuvok caught her eye. “The match will end in one of two ways: I break Ms. Hamilton’s defense and touch you, or she yields.” He stepped back, reached into his tunic and pulled out a wicked looking knife. “Prepare yourself.”

Lynne slipped in her mouth guard and assumed her defensive stance. This time there was no circling; Tuvok attacked immediately.

Janeway was speechless. That knife was no dummy blade. What the hell kind of sparring match was this? Yet Lynne hadn’t seemed fazed at all, which meant they’d done this before. And a moment later she kicked the knife out of his hand, sending it halfway across the muhok. Then the battle began in earnest.

Watching the furious exchange of blows, Janeway could see the differences between this match and the one before. The previous bout had been more ritualistic, while this seemed to be no-holds-barred, anything-goes fighting. Lynne was taking more hits due to her inability to move around Tuvok, though that didn’t seem to be slowing her down. Then a strike slipped under her block, snapping her head back, and Janeway felt ill at the sight of the blood flowing from Lynne’s nose. She stepped forward and then stopped herself. What would she do, call an end to the fight? If Lynne wanted it to end, she’d yield. And her lover showed no sign of even noticing the injury. Janeway stepped back again and watched, fascinated, as the two combatants rained blows on each other. Lynne crouched, sprang up and delivered a kick to Tuvok that spun him around. Before he could finish the spin, she landed back in a crouch and swept her leg under his, knocking him off his feet. Tuvok landed on his back, and Lynne was over him in a flash, driving a foot toward his throat. He caught her foot and twisted it, sending her down to the floor as well. He started to rise, but found his legs entangled in hers. She flipped her body over, using the leverage to bring Tuvok crashing down again, and then both combatants were back on their feet. Lynne was still in position between Tuvok and Janeway.

Tuvok paused for a moment, pulling out his mouth guard. “Well done,” he said, nodding in approval. Then he moved in again and the momentary lull was over.

Janeway was getting tired just watching them. They weren’t slowing down, and Tuvok was using every opportunity to land a blow on Lynne. She was returning the favor, and it wasn’t long before the practice mat was splattered with droplets of both human and Vulcan blood.

Tuvok dropped back for a moment and then came back in, his body twisting as his leg flew through the air. Lynne blocked the double-kick combination, but she hadn’t expected the third, which came out of nowhere to land hard on the arm she threw up at the last second. Janeway felt her heart clench at Lynne’s sharp cry, and she knew the arm was broken.

“All right, that’s—” Janeway’s outrage was stopped in its tracks when Lynne spit out her mouth guard and held up her unbroken arm.

“Kathryn, I’m fine,” she said without turning around.

“You’re fine,” repeated Janeway in disbelief. “He just broke your arm and you’re fine. I don’t think so. This match is over.”

Lynne still wasn’t looking at her. “Savensu, may I speak with the captain for a moment?”

Tuvok nodded and walked across to his water bottle. Lynne finally turned around, her broken arm dangling at her side and blood smeared on her face. Her breathing was labored and she was obviously in a world of hurt as she closed her eyes. Janeway stepped up to her, wanting desperately to take her in her arms but knowing she’d only cause more pain.

“Lynne, you don’t have to do this. You’ve proven yourself already,” she said urgently.

Lynne’s eyes opened and bored straight into Janeway’s. “Kathryn, I don’t have much time to explain this so please listen to me.”

Startled, Janeway could only nod. “I’m listening.”

“The longer I last in this match, the higher I score. If you make me quit now, you’re taking away my chance to prove myself to Tuvok. Do you think I can just quit if I get hurt in real life? Part of my training has been learning to deal with pain. It’s just a signal from my body, telling me that something is wrong. Well, I know that something is wrong, so I don’t need that signal anymore. I’m going to put it away and not listen to it. Kathryn, I have to go on. I want to. Please don’t interfere.”

Janeway understood the pain blocking principle; it was standard instruction at the Starfleet Academy, though not everyone got it. She also realized that Lynne’s training had obviously gone much deeper into this concept; her lover was already looking better. But still…

“I won’t interfere if you really want to keep going. But what’s the point? Haven’t you already shown what you’re capable of?”

Lynne shook her head. “No. I haven’t. We’ve never fought a shin na’shon match before. Tuvok doesn’t know how long I can last, and neither do I. But I do know that I want to show him my absolute best. Please, Kathryn. This is what I do now. It’s the only thing I have to offer.”

“It is not the only thing you have to offer.” Janeway was prepared to argue her lover’s mistaken notion, but she stopped at the look in those green eyes.

“Can we discuss this later, please?”

Janeway nodded and watched helplessly as Lynne took a deep breath and turned to walk back onto the practice floor.

“Savensu,” she called. Tuvok looked up. “With your permission, I’m ready to continue.” Tuvok came back to stand in front of her, and with no fanfare at all the battle resumed.

Janeway’s heart was in her mouth. This was no longer a test of Lynne’s fighting skills; it was now a test of her endurance. There was no doubt who would win. Tuvok was showing no mercy and even seemed to be targeting Lynne’s broken arm, forcing her to twist and block again and again. Janeway was getting more upset with every passing second; twice she stepped forward to stop the match, and twice she swallowed her fear and worry and stepped back again. Lynne was putting up a valiant fight and showing no sign of her pain, but Janeway knew it had to be excruciating.

The match went on longer than Janeway would ever have expected. But Lynne was slowing down; her hampered movements were making her work much harder and she was running out of energy. Her fatigue made her just a little too late to block a kick that connected on her good side and sent her flying. She twisted in mid-air, trying to land on her back, but there wasn’t enough time and Janeway watched in horror as her lover landed heavily on her broken arm. No amount of mental discipline could block that kind of impact, and Lynne’s scream of pain echoed through the room.

In a flash Janeway was standing over her fallen lover, warning Tuvok off with a lethal glare.

“That is enough!” she snapped. “Stand down, Commander.”

Tuvok pulled out his mouth guard and nodded. “The match is finished, Captain. But the test is not.”

Janeway couldn’t believe her ears. “What?”

Tuvok looked at Lynne, who was lying on the floor and gasping for breath. “Would you have yielded, Ms. Hamilton?”

“Tuvok,” Janeway growled. She was half a second away from throwing her chief of security in the brig for abuse of rank.

“No,” gasped Lynne. Janeway wheeled around in astonishment. Lynne’s face was white and she looked like she’d been hit by a shuttle, but the determination on her features was plain to see.

“What was your next move?” Tuvok was calmly quizzing his student, as if they were all sitting in a classroom instead of watching Lynne fighting to breathe through her pain. The situation was surreal, and despite every instinct telling her to get Lynne to sickbay now, Janeway hesitated. By the look on Lynne’s face, she didn’t want help or interference. This was still between the student and the teacher.

“Bring my knees up…” Lynne took a wheezing breath, “wait for you to stand over me…turn onto my back.” Another breath that made Janeway hurt just to hear it.

“You correctly anticipated my next actions,” said Tuvok, sounding satisfied. “Where would you have targeted your kick, groin or throat?”

“Throat…if I could. Needed…to incapacitate.” A shuddering breath. “My last move.”

“Excellent,” said Tuvok. “Can you stand?”

Lynne was using her good hand to keep the broken arm tight against her side. She shook her head. “Not…on my own.”

Tuvok stepped around Janeway, who watched in amazement as he gently slid his hands under Lynne, careful not to jar her, and lifted her to her feet. That amazement changed to outright astonishment as he stood back and bowed deeply from the waist.

“I salute your courage,” he said. “You are a most worthy opponent, and a superior student.”

Lynne’s eyes were huge as she stared at Tuvok. “Thank you… Savensu.”

“Do not thank me. My respect is not a gift. You have earned it. Computer, transport Lynne Hamilton directly to sick bay. Authorization Tuvok theta nine six six one.”

Lynne vanished, and without her labored breathing the muhok was oppressively quiet.

With her lover safely away, Janeway let go of her worry and fear for the moment—which made room for her overwhelming anger. Settling a cold glare on Tuvok, she said, “Do you use such sadistic methods with all of your staff, Commander, or just Lynne?” Her use of his rank was a clear warning sign.

Tuvok was unaffected. “With respect, Captain, it was necessary for Ms. Hamilton.”

Janeway stepped into his personal space. The effort it was costing her to control her anger showed in the low tone of her voice. “That was not security training. That was torture. And I want an explanation, right now.”

Tuvok inclined his head. “Ms. Hamilton’s training has gone well beyond the normal curriculum, Captain. I have been instructing her in traditional Vulcan martial arts methods, including meditation and mental control techniques. A shin na’shon match is part of this tradition. It allows the student to prove herself beyond any parameters the instructor might set. Ms. Hamilton had the option of ending the match when she felt it necessary; obviously, she did not feel it necessary.”

“So it’s traditional,” Janeway nearly spat out the word, “to break your student’s bones and then target those injuries in a fight?”

“The injury was not intentional. However, once inflicted it did indeed become a target. That is prescribed by the traditions of a shin na’shon. Ms. Hamilton is not being trained for competition bouts, Captain. She is being trained for combat. Rules, referees and fair play concepts are not a part of real-world combat.”

“I’m well aware of that, Commander. I’m also well aware that there are other methods of training for combat that do not involve the kind of suffering I just witnessed. Perhaps you can enlighten me on why you chose not to use more humane methods.” She was seething, and he actually took a step back from her palpable anger.

“Ms. Hamilton’s training has been conducted within the framework of traditional Vulc