chapter 4

 

 

The sickbay doors parted to reveal Revi standing over Lynne, moving a bone knitter over her lower arm. Lynne herself appeared to be unconscious. Revi looked up at Janeway’s entrance and immediately held up a calming hand.

“Slow down, Kathryn. She’s all right. It was a minor fracture of the radius.”

“Then why is she unconscious?” asked Janeway, looking down at her lover’s bruised face.

“Because I sedated her. And right before that I gave her a lecture, which I’m now going to share with you. I know she’s been training with Tuvok, but I think she’s forgotten she’s not Vulcan. She can’t keep up with him no matter how hard she tries; her body simply lacks the physiological capacity. She needs to slow down, or at least give herself some rest. And since I was fairly certain she wouldn’t listen to my excellent advice, I enforced it.”

“She hasn’t complained of any physical issues, Revi.”

Revi gave her a look of long-suffering patience. “Kathryn, do you think Lynne would ever admit to physical frailty?”

Janeway shook her head. “I’d have said yes before now, but after what I just saw I think she’d have to be missing a limb before admitting to anything at all. How long will she be out?”

“Two, three hours. Not enough, but it’s a very deep sleep. It will help.”

“So will a honeymoon.”

“If you weren’t planning to climb a mountain, I’d agree.”

“That’s her week. For my week we’re lying around a beach doing nothing.”

“Good. That will help.”

Janeway watched Lynne’s face, letting the hum of the bone knitter soothe her frayed nerves. After a while Revi spoke again.

“She took quite a beating. How does Tuvok look?”

Try as she might, the smile got away from her. “About the same, minus the arm.”

Revi smiled as well. “Good for her. I want her on my side in a fight.”

Janeway looked at the ex-Borg, whose remaining implants—particularly the cybernetic arm—made her one of the most physically imposing individuals on the ship. Shaking her head, she returned her gaze to her sleeping lover. Her lover, who had just established herself as one of the top three fighters on the crew.

“Me too,” she said softly. And relaxed, for the first time since Tuvok had come into her ready room.

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway felt no guilt at utilizing a site-to-site transport for a non-medical situation. She could have left Lynne sleeping in sickbay, but there was no reason for her to take up space in sickbay when someone else might need it, was there? It just made sense to transport her to the captain’s quarters, where Janeway made sure she was resting comfortably in her bed before moving into the living area. After replicating a small dinner and a glass of wine, she sat in front of her computer and called up all the information she could find on Vulcan martial arts, focusing on shin na’shon matches and ta’nek status. Two hours later she rose, refilled her wine glass and took it to the couch. Sitting and staring out at the star streaks, she felt a depression settle around her.

Her research had made one thing very apparent: she should have looked up that information months ago. Vulcan martial art training was an entire culture, involving mental discipline and behavioral requirements as well as physical training. Lynne had been spending a significant part of her life engaged in a world that Janeway hadn’t known anything about. Certainly Lynne had shared the high points of her progress, but she hadn’t gotten into much detail and Janeway, to her eternal shame, hadn’t asked. Now she admitted to herself that she hadn’t wanted to know. When Lynne had first come to her, asking for permission to take part in combat training, Janeway had been appalled at the very thought. She’d agreed only after Lynne had backed her into a corner with a very logical list of reasons why such training was appropriate. And as soon as she’d agreed and made the training part of Lynne’s daily duties, she’d put the whole thing out of her mind. She didn’t want to know the details of how her lover was learning to fight and kill.

But it had happened regardless of her involvement, and her attempts to deny the whole thing had only resulted in a complete lack of support for Lynne. Not to mention that she’d looked like an uninformed idiot in front of Tuvok.

She sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. While she’d been busy not acknowledging Lynne’s training, her lover had gone ahead and reached one of the highest skill levels attainable in Vulcan martial arts. Today Lynne was a ta’nek. And she’d earned it no thanks to her partner and captain, who on her very first attendance to a bout had tried to step in where she’d had absolutely no business interfering. The computer files had made that abundantly clear. The whole point of a shin na’shon match was that it gave total control to the student. It was a pivotal moment in a student’s training: the moment when the rigid teacher-student relationship changed, with the teacher stepping back and the student taking on the responsibility of dictating the length of the match. Tuvok could not have ended that match no matter how many broken bones Lynne sustained. Not until Lynne herself yielded. And, of course, she never had. Janeway had stepped in first, ending the match by default and denying Lynne the control that she had earned.

And then I made it even worse by ripping into Tuvok when I’m the one who was in the wrong. She owed Tuvok an apology. It wasn’t his fault that she hadn’t taken the time to learn anything about Lynne’s training.

Well, she’d no doubt have the opportunity to apologize tomorrow, when Tuvok brought up the topic of Lynne’s transfer. And what was she going to do about that? She recalled Tuvok’s arguments in her ready room, and her own admittedly feeble counterarguments. She thought about how much effort Lynne had put into earning a place on away team rotation, and what such a duty might do for her psyche. Then she thought about taking Lynne with her whenever she left the ship, and smiled as a few pleasant possibilities occurred to her.

The soft sound of rustling blankets brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked over to see Lynne come padding out of the bedroom, rumpled and sleepy. Without a word, Lynne sat crosswise on the sofa, draping her legs over Janeway’s and wrapping her arms around her neck. Janeway held her close, supporting her as Lynne rested her head against Janeway’s shoulder and closed her eyes. For long minutes they stayed in this position, until Lynne finally raised her head.

“I’m a ta’nek,” she said softly. “Can you believe it?”

“Only because I was there to see it,” said Janeway. “Lynne, I am so proud of you. I had no idea.”

“I didn’t either,” said Lynne in a wondering tone. “Tuvok just told me I was making satisfactory progress. He never gave anything away. God, Kathryn, I thought I’d lose it when he bowed to me.”

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and Janeway squeezed her tightly. She now knew, thanks to her research, that Tuvok’s bow had been the formal acknowledgment of Lynne’s new status. A savensu did not bow to a student, but Lynne was more than a student now. She was not yet an equal, and would not be for a long time to come, but she had earned the respect of her teacher and had demonstrated the abilities necessary to become a ta’nek.

“Thanks for not stopping the match when Tuvok nailed my arm,” said Lynne. “I know that was hard for you to watch.”

“That’s an understatement,” Janeway said. “But I’ve been doing a bit of research while you were asleep, and I understand a lot more about what you just accomplished. Lynne, what you did—what you’ve been doing all this time—is truly amazing. I’m so sorry that I haven’t been more involved. You deserved more than that from me.”

“It’s all right, Kathryn—” Lynne began.

“No, it’s not,” Janeway interrupted. She didn’t want Lynne to be understanding and forgiving. Not until she confessed the full extent of her failure. “I didn’t want to know. I didn’t take the time to learn about something that was important to you, because I wanted to keep thinking of you as separate from the part of my life that deals with combat and risk and death. I wanted you to be safe and protected and to never be in danger, and in the process I never really acknowledged what you wanted; what you’ve been working toward. And today I went one step further by stopping your shin na’shon match when I had absolutely no business interfering. That was your moment, and I sabotaged it. I am so sorry. Forgive me?”

Lynne stared. “You’re really beating yourself up over this, aren’t you?”

There was no answer to that; at least, not one that Janeway wanted to give. She just looked into Lynne’s eyes and waited.

Lynne let go of Janeway’s neck and scooted her body back so that she was leaning comfortably against the arm of the couch, her legs draped over Janeway’s. “Okay,” she said. “First of all, there’s nothing to forgive regarding your stopping the shin na’shon. If I saw you get hurt that way, you’d better believe that I’d do everything I could to stop it. If I’d known in advance that Tuvok was going to call a shin na’shon and that you’d be there, I would have warned you of the possibilities.” She paused. “No, on second thought, I would have asked you not to come at all. All bets are off in a match like that, and as soon as Tuvok asked me if I accepted the challenge I knew I was probably going to get hurt. I didn’t want you to see what you saw today, Kathryn. And I don’t blame you at all for reacting the way you did. You acted out of love and concern for me, and I appreciate it.”

Janeway couldn’t believe that Lynne was letting her off so easily. “But the whole point of the shin na’shon is that you had total control for the first time. You worked hard for that, and I took it away from you. I had no right.”

“No, you didn’t have the right. But you didn’t know that at the time, did you?”

“No.” Janeway was ashamed. “But I should have.”

“Why? I didn’t explain it to you.”

“Because…” Janeway felt like she was fumbling. “Because it was important to you. I should have taken more time to find out what it was that you were doing.”

Lynne lifted her legs off Janeway’s and shifted so that she was resting her side against the back of the couch, their faces just centimeters apart.

“Kathryn,” she said intently, “if there’s fault here, and I’m not convinced there is, then it’s shared. I certainly had the option of telling you more, and I didn’t because there were some aspects of my training that I really didn’t want you to know about. Don’t do this to yourself. I’m not mad at you.”

Janeway looked at her disbelievingly. She’d been so busy castigating herself for her lack of knowledge that she couldn’t quite accept Lynne not doing the same.

“Why not?” she said.

Lynne blew out an exasperated breath. “Why on earth would I be mad at the woman who protected me when I was hurt? I appreciated what you did, Kathryn. It wasn’t really the right time for it, but your instincts came from loving me. I can’t fault that. And neither should you.”

Janeway stared into Lynne’s eyes, finding nothing but understanding there. It was hard for her to just let go of her guilt, but Lynne wasn’t giving her a reason to hold on to it. At last she nodded, reaching up to brush the backs of her fingers against Lynne’s jaw.

“You’re a rare woman, Lynne Hamilton,” she said. “Thank you.”

Lynne grinned. “Rare? Hell, I’m one of a kind. See any other four hundred-year-old women walking around here?”

Janeway knew Lynne was trying to defuse the seriousness of the conversation. It was working, too—a warmth filled her chest, driving out the depression she’d been sinking under. She caressed Lynne’s face and pulled her in for a gentle kiss.

“No,” she said as she pulled back, “I don’t see any others. But if you see any, send them my way. I have a special place in my heart for four hundred-year-old women.”

“Ah, your secret is out. I’ll keep my eyes open, but luckily for me there shouldn’t be too much competition.”

“Exactly none,” agreed Janeway. “Luckily for me. I really don’t think I could handle more than one of you.” She suddenly remembered. “Oh, I have a message for you from Tuvok.”

“What’s that?”

“He said to tell you that he would require a considerable amount of time with a dermal regenerator. You really did a number on him.”

To her surprise, Lynne looked regretful. “This is the first time I haven’t done the regenerating for him.”

Janeway wasn’t sure what to think of that. “Do you have to patch him up very often?”

“I’m not sure what you’d call ‘often,’ but yes, healing each other afterwards is part of each training session if blows are actually landed. Sometimes we just practice form. But when we’re going full-out, we end up with lumps and bruises and occasionally a bloody nose. And before you ask, no, I’ve never broken anything until now.”

“So how is the regeneration part of a training session?” Janeway hadn’t run across this in her reading.

“Vulcans believe in balance,” said Lynne. “If I land a strike on Tuvok that causes damage, I’m obligated to heal it afterwards in order to keep things in balance. Believe me, when you see the results of your moves up close and personal, it really sinks in exactly what you’ve done. In Vulcan martial arts it’s impossible to forget the physical cost of combat, because you’re faced with it after every match. A muhok is always equipped with dermal regenerators.”

Janeway was fascinated. “Healing someone is such an intimate act. It’s the opposite of hurting them.”

“Exactly. Balance.”

Janeway ran her fingers through Lynne’s unbound hair while she thought about what she’d learned. Lynne leaned her head back, eyes closed and practically purring, and Janeway knew her partner wouldn’t move an inch as long as she kept up her caresses.

“Amazing,” she mused. “Here sits one of the most skilled fighters on the ship, and I can render her immobile with this simple move.”

“Mmm hm.” Lynne didn’t open her eyes. “It’s my greatest weakness. Don’t tell.”

Unbidden, Janeway heard Tuvok’s warning. Ms. Hamilton is motivated by a need to succeed. It is also her weakness. And in that moment, she made her decision.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I don’t want anyone else to have this kind of control over you. I reserve that for myself.”

Lynne’s lips curved in a smile. “Control, huh?”

“Well, I have to keep you in check somehow. This is my failsafe.”

“Okay. I don’t mind.”

They stayed that way for some time, while Janeway basked in the security and happiness that always came from these quiet moments with Lynne. But there were still things left unsaid, and tonight was the night for it. After months of avoiding the topic, she’d finally come to a resolution. Now she needed to know whether or not she’d have to act on it.

“Lynne, what do you want?” she asked.

Lynne’s head came up and she looked at Janeway in some confusion. “What do I want? With what?”

Janeway dropped her hands in her lap. “With your life. You’ve been working nonstop to acquire combat skills that you don’t really need. What is it that you want to do with them?”

Lynne looked at her for a long time before she finally answered.

“I guess I just want to be useful.”

Janeway wasn’t buying it. “You could be useful scrubbing out the waste reclamation sump. Is that what you really want?”

“No,” Lynne admitted. “I, um…” She ran a nervous hand through her hair. “God, I hate it when you do this to me.”

Janeway said nothing. She’d been with Lynne long enough by now to know that sometimes, the best strategy was simply to wait. Eventually she heard Lynne sigh, and knew that the real story was about to come out.

“I feel like an idiot saying this out loud, but—I want to be the best, Kathryn.” Raising her head, she pinned Janeway with an intense gaze. “Or if not the best, one of the best. I want to be one of the people everyone else looks to when they need someone to get the job done.” Her eyes softened. “Does that make sense?”

“Perfectly,” said Janeway, who understood this concept quite well.

“It’s what I’m used to,” Lynne continued. “It’s what I lost when I came here. Remember our discussion about the concept of macho?”

Janeway nodded, trusting that the seeming non sequitur would soon make sense.

“Well, I spent my life in a field where the macho culture was very much alive and well. It was a man’s game. Women weren’t supposed to be good climbers, you know. We’re too weak, we don’t have the endurance, we can’t be counted on in an emergency, we can’t be trusted to anchor a rope, we wimp out when the going gets tough, et cetera ad nauseum.” Lynne’s curled lip told Janeway exactly how she felt about that concept. “So in order to gain any kind of acceptance in the climbing community, I had to be not just as good, but better than the guys I was climbing with. It improved a lot as more women started climbing, but in the early days it was bad. I mean, I had a lot of guys who thought my purpose on a climbing team was to provide a piece of ass for their enjoyment. I actually had to hurt a few of them.” While Janeway bristled at the very thought of it, Lynne got a rather evil smile on her face. “If I’d only known then what I know now.”

“Please tell me none of them ever…hurt you,” Janeway said, unable to actually verbalize the thought.

Lynne took Janeway’s hand in her own. “No,” she said. “I’m not a small woman, as you may have noticed, and even though I didn’t know the moves I do now, I sure knew how to use my weight and strength to hit certain vulnerable areas. You only have to kick a guy’s balls into his throat once before he gets the idea.” She shook her head. “But not all women climbers were as fortunate. I had a few friends who paid a very, very high price for doing what they loved.” She squeezed Janeway’s hand and let go. “Anyway, my point is that when I got zapped off Denali, I was at the peak of my profession. I was known throughout the international climbing community as one of the best. And then I came here and that was all gone. Not only was I not the best, I was hardly able to even be useful. You know how hard that was on me.”

Janeway nodded, remembering the efforts Lynne had made to keep busy and make some kind of contribution. She also remembered, very clearly, how much Lynne’s personality had changed the first time she’d gone on an away mission.

“Yes, I do,” she said. “And you became a whole different person after Tuvok put you on point for going into that cave.”

Lynne flashed a brilliant smile. “Oh yeah,” she said. “That was spectacular. It was the first time I really felt like me again.” She rested her elbow on the couch back and propped her head in her hand. “But that turned out to be such a once-in-awhile thing, you know? I needed more. So I talked to Tuvok, and he was kind enough to take me on as a serious student. And when you made combat training part of my duties, that just opened the door. I had something to work towards, something truly viable and useful. I felt like I had control of my life again. And I, um…” She paused, looking at Janeway warily. “I hoped if I got good enough, you’d have to put me on away mission rotation. Full-time, not just the ones where nothing can possibly go wrong. Those are too few and far between. I want to see more, and do more.”

Janeway closed her eyes. Here we go. Despite the decision she’d made minutes ago, part of her had still hoped that somehow, Lynne wouldn’t ask. She knew it was a hopeless notion, but since when did logic and emotions go together?

When she opened her eyes again, Lynne’s brows were drawn together.

“I’ve been dreading this conversation,” Lynne said.

That makes two of us. “Why?” asked Janeway.

“Because this is the end of the line for me.” Lynne tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Up until now, I could tell myself that if I just worked hard enough, I could do anything I wanted. But that’s not true anymore. I’ve hit the wall.”

 “And I’m the wall.” The truth of Lynne's statement didn’t lessen the sting.

Lynne reached out for Janeway’s hand. “I didn't mean it like that. When I came back from Earth, I did it knowing that I was giving up total control of my life. And I thought I’d be okay with that, given the rewards that came with it.” She gently squeezed Janeway’s hand, rubbing her thumb on its back. “But we haven’t had any conflicts of interest since then, so it hasn’t been put to the test. I haven’t had to pay the price for my decision—until now. That’s the wall I’m talking about, Kathryn. This is the part where I have to suck it up and live by whatever decision you make.”

Janeway put her hand on top of Lynne’s, stilling the motion of her thumb. Looking intently into her partner’s eyes, she said, “I think you’ve been paying the price for that decision every day.”

She saw a flash of pain cross Lynne’s face before one side of her mouth lifted into a half-smile. “Point taken. But you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.” Janeway took a deep breath. “But I want you to understand that I pay the price for that decision every day, too. I know what it cost you to stay here. And I got hell’s own preview of what it would be like to lose you. So I’m torn between giving you what you want, in order to make that price you pay worth it in some small way—and keeping you as safe as I can, to make sure that preview I got never becomes my reality.”

Lynne started to say something, but Janeway put two fingers on her lips, gently shushing her. “Please let me finish. I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I made my decision before you asked.”

The startled look on Lynne’s face would have been amusing at any other time. “No,” she continued, “I didn’t know you’d ask. Tuvok came to me with a proposal before your match. That’s why I was there.”

Lynne couldn’t keep quiet. “What kind of proposal?”

“He seems to think I need a personal security escort. Someone to be with me every time I leave this ship. And it appears he’s been training you for the job.”

Lynne’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “What did you tell him?”

“I said I didn’t need one, and if I did, it wouldn’t be you.” Janeway watched Lynne slump, and held up her hand. “Wait. That’s what I told Tuvok before your match. It’s not what I’m telling you now.”

Lynne sat up so straight Janeway could almost hear her vertebrae crack. “What are you saying now?”

“I’m saying that Tuvok would never have proposed it if he didn’t think you were completely qualified. And if he thinks you’re qualified, then you most certainly are. I know how important this is to you, and if I stand in your way simply out of fear for your safety, then I’m letting my selfish needs interfere with what’s best for you—and possibly what’s best for the ship. Which is unacceptable. So…how would you feel about being my personal security escort?”

There was a heavy silence in the room while the two women stared at each other. It lasted several seconds before being shattered by Lynne’s whoop of joy. Janeway found herself with an armful of a very happy woman, who then leapt off the couch and did an impromptu victory dance with her clenched fists raised over her head.

“Yes! Thank you, Tuvok!” Lynne dropped her arms and came back, leaning over Janeway and resting her hands on the back of the couch. “And thank you, Kathryn. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.”

“There’s a condition,” Janeway warned.

The grin slipped off Lynne’s face as she sat down. “There always is.”

“I’m not offering you the position yet,” Janeway continued. “Not officially. I have to review Tuvok’s full request tomorrow first, but before I even think about transferring you I need you to make me a promise.”

“Okaaay,” said Lynne slowly. “This sounds serious.”

Janeway nodded. “You have to promise me that you will never, under any circumstances, defy or even question my orders. Because the first time you do will be your last. Do you understand?”

“Kathryn, I’m not an idiot. I’ve never questioned Tuvok’s standing as my supervisor; why would I question yours?”

“Because you’ve already done it once. And you publicly questioned Chakotay when he was in charge of the ship. Like it or not, you have a history. I need to be sure that it stays in the realm of history and doesn’t bite me in the future.”

“Jesus, Kathryn, you make it sound like I got caught stealing supplies.” Lynne was offended. “Two times I took a stand when someone’s life was at stake, and one of them was yours. You can’t honestly expect me not to open my mouth if I think you’re putting yourself in danger.”

“Yes, I can,” said Janeway evenly. “I can expect you to give your opinion if I ask for it, and to abide by whatever decision I make.” She held her hand out to indicate her quarters. “In here, and in your quarters, you can question me and argue with me all you want. It’s one of the things I value in our relationship. But out there you can’t. Period. That’s the condition. Take it or leave it.”

There was a long silence while they stared at each other. Finally Lynne quirked an eyebrow.

“Tell me, Kathryn, as your personal security escort, would my primary duty be to protect you?”

“Yes.” Janeway was instantly suspicious.

“So if you gave me an order that I felt would result in danger or harm to you, I would be duty-bound to question or even reject that order, wouldn’t I?”

Ah. Should have expected that one. “Nice try, Lynne. I’m the highest authority on this ship. Questioning or defying any order of mine, regardless of whether it conflicts with your primary duty, would be placing your authority above mine and that’s just not possible.”

“Tuvok does it. So does Chakotay.”

“Tuvok is my chief of security and Chakotay is my first officer. They’ve earned the right to occasionally question my decisions. But even they will only do it to the point where I make it an order.”

Lynne sat back. “Then I leave it.”

“What?”

“You said take it or leave it. I’m leaving it. I can’t accept a job where my boss can order me to do something in conflict with my primary duty. I won’t be your personal security escort if you can just disempower me when you feel like it. Either I protect you, or I don’t, but I won’t do this in-between shit.”

In all her agonizing over whether or not to offer the transfer, not once had Janeway considered that her lover might turn it down. She was so surprised she almost missed Lynne’s next words.

“However,” Lynne continued, “If you want a guarantee that I’ll never question orders except those that I feel put you in personal danger, that I can do. So I guess it’s a question of what you really want, Kathryn—full-time security or none at all. Part-time security isn’t an option. At least not with me.”

Lynne had just given her the perfect way out. It was almost too easy.

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said. “And in answer to what I want…well, I’ve gotten along with what you’d call part-time security—and often none at all—for a long time now. I don’t see any problem continuing that way. I can’t accept your condition.”

Lynne nodded. “Fair enough. In that case I want full-time away team rotation. I’m requesting an immediate transfer.”

Checkmate—and Janeway hadn’t seen it coming. By offering Lynne the post of personal security escort, she had already acknowledged that her partner’s qualifications exceeded those required for away team rotation. But that rotation meant that Lynne would often be off the ship while Janeway sat on the bridge, worrying herself sick. The alternative required her to accept Lynne’s condition, which was impossible. And either way, Lynne would be working in potentially dangerous situations. The only choice left to Janeway now was whether Lynne would be facing danger with or without her, and she found herself growing increasingly annoyed at her partner for forcing her into this decision.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she said.

“I’m not doing anything. You’re the one who set the original condition.”

“The innocent act won’t work. I don’t like being manipulated, Lynne.”

“Hey, don’t get upset with me. I offered you a choice, just like you offered me one. I’m not manipulating you into anything.” Lynne paused, visibly relaxing against the sofa. “And even if I were, you should be proud of me. I had the best of teachers.”

“Are you saying I’m manipulative?” Annoyance was morphing into the beginnings of anger.

“Of course you are,” Lynne replied calmly. “Are you saying that’s a bad thing?”

The response collapsed Janeway’s anger like a punctured balloon. She opened her mouth to answer, paused, then sat back and shook her head. “Only when I’m not the one doing it.”

Sometimes, she thought, Lynne’s smile really could light up a room.

“Truce?” Lynne asked.

Janeway nodded. “Truce. But I still don’t like being manipulated.”

“And I don’t like being told that I don’t have the right to do everything I can to protect the woman I love. Surely you can understand that, Kathryn.”

Their eyes met and Janeway saw a familiar determination in Lynne’s gaze. Slowly, she nodded. “Yes, I can.” It occurred to her that Lynne had only asked to do what she herself had done for months—except that her partner had been completely up front about it, while she’d been…well, manipulating events to protect Lynne. And she was about to do it again.

“I’ll notify Chakotay tomorrow that you are now on active away team rotation,” she said.

Lynne would have made a terrible poker player, she decided. Her surprise was obvious.

“Damn,” Lynne said. “I didn’t think you’d say that.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Well…yes, but…” Lynne stumbled to a halt. “No, it’s not what I want. I’d far rather be with you. I want that escort post.”

“It’s still available. You know the terms.”

And now Lynne was the one with no good options. She’d admitted her real objective—a fatal mistake in negotiations—and had no cards left to play. The look in her eyes said that she knew she’d lost, and it only took her a few seconds to concede.

“All right,” she said. “I accept your terms. But I don’t have to like them.”

“No, you don’t. You just have to live by them. And you need to be aware that your safety will be one of my highest priorities. I don’t order my crew where I’m afraid to go myself, and I don’t leave a danger zone until I know my crew is safe. So don’t get any ideas about staying behind again. If you’re in danger, I’ll be there with you.”

“Well, that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“It might defeat yours. It doesn’t defeat mine.”

Lynne lifted her chin, eyes narrowed in understanding. “In other words, you’re giving me the job but you’re not going to actually let me do it.”

“In other words, I’m going to let you do your job right up to the point where you get any ideas about sacrificing yourself for me.”

The ensuing silence was so loud that Janeway was pretty sure she could hear the fibers in her carpet degrading as they aged.

“Kathryn,” said Lynne at last, “has it occurred to you that your life just might be more important than mine? And that’s why you’re the captain, and I’m the security escort?”

Janeway sighed. “Tuvok tried to convince me of that right after Dakmor. And I’m sorry, Lynne, but I just can’t accept that. I can do the numbers—that one life is less important than saving ten or fifty or one hundred others—but I can’t place your life in a position of less importance than mine. It’s just not an option.”

Slowly, Lynne nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I give. I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to do something so completely against your nature.”

Janeway reached out for Lynne’s hand. “Thank you. And I admire your attempt to do what you thought was best. But you really need to know something.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t ever bluff unless you’re prepared to lose the pot.”

That got her a smile and a squeeze of the hand. “Thanks for not giving me the other advice.”

“And that is?”

“If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.”

Janeway laughed. “You’re calling me a dog?”

“The biggest.”

“I can live with that.”

Lynne smiled at her. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starved.” She started to get up and immediately dropped back to the cushions, her head between her knees.

“Are you all right?” Janeway was instantly concerned. Cautiously, she rested a light hand on Lynne’s bent back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lynne sat back up, her face flushed. “Just got a bit dizzy for a second. Stood up too fast, I guess.” Carefully, she stood again.

Janeway glanced at the chronometer. “When did you last eat?”

“Lunch time, but I didn’t have much. Sparring on a full stomach is not a good idea.”

“Well, that might have something to do with it. Come on, let’s feed you. And while we’re at it, why don’t you fill me in on your training. In detail this time.” She gave Lynne a look laden with meaning.

Lynne got it. “Okay, but I really need a shower first. I’m surprised you can stand being this close to me.”

“Well, you do smell a bit like a targ, but not commenting on personal hygiene is one of the first things they teach you in diplomacy training.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious. You should take that act on the road.”

Janeway smirked, patting Lynne on the butt as she turned toward the bedroom. Lynne cast a playful warning look over her shoulder just before vanishing around the corner.

Janeway watched the empty doorway for a moment, then walked to the replicator. Soon a pasta dish and wine sat on the table, along with a few flickering candles, and Janeway stood at the viewport while she waited. Lynne was taking a hydroshower, one of the amenities that she swore she simply could not live without. Janeway had once commented that she knew she’d get Lynne to move in eventually, if only for the shower.

Gazing at the star streaks, Janeway felt oddly at peace. Maybe it was because what she’d spent so many months trying to avoid had finally happened, in spite of her efforts. She no longer carried the burden of trying to prevent it.

Right. Now you just have to worry about what happens next. A small smile curved her lips. But at least whatever happens, she’ll be with me. It wasn’t an option she’d ever considered before this morning, and the more she thought about it now, the more she liked it.

The water was turned off, and a few minutes later Lynne came into the living area barefoot and wearing a silk robe, her wet hair slicked back. Janeway took in a breath at her appearance and felt a rush of warmth right down to her toes. God, this woman was gorgeous. Not that she was in any way prejudiced, but she was certain that Lynne got more beautiful every day. And that robe did a wonderful job of showing off her assets. Janeway had given it to her a few months ago, but she freely admitted that she’d done it for her own benefit.

“What?” said Lynne as she took her seat. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“I’m just appreciating the fact that the most beautiful woman on the ship is here with me,” said Janeway. She enjoyed the ensuing blush far too much.

“All I have to do is look across this table to know that isn’t true,” said Lynne. “But I’m glad you think so, because your opinion is the only one that counts with me. Thanks for making dinner,” she added.

The rest of the evening went by quickly, as Lynne ate and told Janeway all about her training. Some of the things she spoke of weren’t taught to Starfleet security staff until their fourth year at the Academy, and quite a few things, so far as Janeway knew, weren’t taught to Starfleet staff at all. Lynne had made remarkable progress in seven and a half months, and Janeway told her so.

“Well, if you think about it,” said Lynne, “I’ve been doing almost nothing but training. All day long, five days a week. I mean, most martial arts students in my time put in a few hours a week. I do more than that in one day. The same goes for the weapons, tactical and investigative training. And on top of that, I’m not in a classroom situation where the pace of learning is limited to the slowest student. I’ve been either learning from Tuvok one-on-one, or else using his holodeck training programs, which he modified specifically for me. So I don’t think it’s that surprising that I’ve been on a steep learning curve.”

Janeway shook her head. “Modesty is a positive trait, sweetheart, but in this case I’d have to say you’re just not seeing the truth. You’ve got a real talent for this. An average student, even in the accelerated program you’ve been in, wouldn’t have gotten this far this fast.”

“An average student might not have the incentive I do,” said Lynne.

The conversation turned to Tuvok’s instruction techniques, and Janeway finally had to ask about something that had bothered her.

“When Tuvok pulled out that knife, you didn’t seem surprised at all. Have you fought with real blades before?”

“Um…yes,” said Lynne. “That’s one of those things I sort of didn’t mention to you. I thought you might have kittens if you knew.”

Even after a year, Lynne still came up with phrases that were unfamiliar to Janeway. This one, though, she could figure out by context.

“You thought right. Starfleet training uses dummy blades for live opponents, and holodeck safeties for holoprograms. I’ve never seen a naked blade used in a training match before.”

“And you want to know why.”

Janeway nodded, relieved that she hadn’t had to formulate a diplomatic way of asking.

“It’s part of Vulcan martial arts training. The belief is that it’s better to learn how an injury feels in a safe, controlled setting than to feel it for the first time in a combat situation. And I have to agree. The first time I missed a block and Tuvok sliced my side open, I just dropped my guard and stood there like an idiot. I was so stunned by the knife cut that I forgot all about fighting. Tuvok wasted no time demonstrating that I would have been instantly dead if I’d done that in a real fight. The next time I got cut it wasn’t so surprising, and after a couple more I learned how to deal with them and didn’t let them affect my concentration. And that’s when I stopped getting cut, for the most part. I had the same learning curve for taking kicks and strikes. The first time Tuvok actually hit me was shocking. Now it’s not.”

Janeway’s brain was still scrambling to catch up, having gotten stalled on the image of Tuvok knifing her partner. She stared at Lynne, trying desperately to think of something to say that wouldn’t reinforce all of the reasons why Lynne hadn’t wanted to tell her this in the first place.

“It’s okay, Kathryn,” said Lynne, reading her facial expression. “It was always in a safe environment. The muhok is designed for this. It has a full complement of powered healing devices, as well as sensors that constantly monitor our life signs. If it detects a dangerous drop in any of the life signs, it’s programmed for direct medical transport.”

Janeway nodded stiffly, trying to be supportive and not succeeding. Finally she gave up. “I’m sorry, Lynne, but I’m having homicidal thoughts here. It’s just a bit difficult for me to think of Tuvok cutting you with a fucking knife.” She winced—damn, she hadn’t meant for her voice to get that loud.

Lynne laid a reassuring hand over hers. “Please don’t think of it that way, Kathryn. It’s all part of the training and I always have the choice of whether to keep going or not. And if it makes you feel better, I’ve sliced Tuvok a few times, too. Which, believe me, is heartbreaking. But it’s all about balance, remember. I’ve got to experience both sides to fully understand what I’m doing.”

“Balance, right, I’ll try to—” Janeway stopped as the realization hit her. “He’s desensitizing you.”

“What?”

“He’s desensitizing you. Both to feeling pain or injury and to causing it. He’s trying to separate you from the emotional response you would normally feel in those situations. Oh, how very Vulcan, goddammit, he’s turning you into a machine.” Janeway was getting up a full head of steam.

“Hey!” Lynne’s sharp voice cut right through it, and Janeway looked up to see real anger in her partner’s face. Her jaw was clenched and she spoke stiffly. “I am not a machine. Tuvok has never tried to turn me into an unfeeling person, or a pseudo-Vulcan. He’s just trying to teach me to be as effective as I can, and I chose this method of instruction. I could have gone the regular Starfleet route. But I wanted the Vulcan training. And it was the right choice, Kathryn, because I’m not the same person I was when I started. I’m better. And you have no right to judge my savensu.”

Too late, Janeway realized that she’d stepped on the relationship between student and teacher, a bond that she didn’t really understand but knew from her research could be extremely strong. She initiated an immediate tactical retreat.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding up her hands. “I don’t mean to be judgmental. It’s just…” She trailed off, looking at her lover across the table. Lynne was so beautiful, she thought, and she’d never wanted her to know about the ugly side of life. Then she thought about the manner in which Lynne had arrived in this time, and the things she’d already seen and done since then, and had to laugh at herself. Kind of like shutting the bay doors after the shuttle’s out, isn’t it?

Sliding her hand over Lynne’s, she said, “It’s just that one of the things I love most about you is the sense of wonder you bring to everything you see or do. You have an innocence about you that I think is partly due to your temporal displacement, and partly just who you are. And I never want to see that taken away from you. But here you are, talking about getting hurt and hurting others and how you’re learning to adapt, and I can’t help but think that it’s already happening.”

Lynne’s expression softened and she turned her hand over to clasp Janeway’s. “I think a little bit of that is going to be unavoidable, love. But I’m not turning into someone else. Remember the balance. I can’t get jaded about causing injuries when I’m the one who has to heal them afterward. I really believe in this.” She paused. “You’ve done a lot of training on the holodeck, right?”

Janeway nodded.

“And how do you feel when you kill or incapacitate an enemy in one of those programs?”

After a moment’s thought, Janeway said, “Satisfied would probably be the best word. Because it means I’m accomplishing my objective.”

“You don’t feel any kind of guilt or remorse?”

“No. They’re not real.”

“Right. My point exactly. I don’t feel bad about killing a holocharacter either. Now that’s desensitizing, don’t you think? But when I do something that hurts Tuvok, you bet I feel it. He bleeds, Kathryn. And I have to see it up close and personal afterwards, when I heal it. There’s a connection between my actions and the consequences that I just don’t get on the holodeck.”

She was so earnest that Janeway almost smiled. This was Lynne at her best, when she felt passionately about something and would move heaven and earth to make Janeway feel it too. And usually, she thought ruefully, it worked.

“The same thing goes for my getting hurt,” Lynne continued. “I once took a bat’leth to the throat in the holodeck. It pissed me off because I’d let my opponent bluff me into a block that left me exposed. And then I realized that if this had been real, I wouldn’t be pissed off, I’d be dead. In the holodeck, you have to intellectually make the connection between the cause and the effect, because the actual effect isn’t what would happen in the real world. When Tuvok and I spar and he gets through my defenses, I don’t have to make that intellectual connection because it’s real. It hurts. Am I making sense?”

“Yes,” said Janeway. “Very much so. I’ve just never come across these techniques before, and it’s taking a little getting used to. Especially when we’re talking about you. Just give me a little time to adapt, Lynne. You’ve had months to think about this, and I just learned about it today.”

“And you’re handling it much better than I expected,” said Lynne.

Janeway wasn’t sure whether she should be insulted or not. “Thanks a lot,” she said.

Lynne flushed. “I meant that in a good way.”

“It’s okay,” said Janeway, smiling at her flustered partner. “It’s not like I haven’t given you every reason to worry about my reaction. I’m trying, Lynne.”

Lynne pushed her chair back and stood, pulling Janeway up by their linked hands. “I know,” she said, as she stepped into Janeway’s arms. “And I love you for it.”

Resting her head on Lynne’s shoulder, Janeway was surrounded by the scent of lavender soap and warm, clean skin. She tucked her nose in the opening of Lynne’s robe and basked in the familiar scent. It smelled like home.

Lynne pulled away slightly, retaining one of Janeway’s hands in her own. “Come on.” Leading the way to the couch, she sat with her back to the armrest and her legs apart. “Have a seat,” she said, tugging on Janeway’s hand.

Janeway wasted no time fitting herself in her favorite spot. Lynne’s arms came around her waist, pulling her in, and they spent several minutes just enjoying their physical connection.

“Lynne,” said Janeway at last, “there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What’s that?”

Janeway ran her hands down the long legs resting against her torso. “I know you wanted to wait until we were married before you moved in, but now that we’re only a few days away, I wonder if you might be willing to move your schedule up a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because Revi gave me a hint yesterday that Seven is planning to ask me for her own quarters. I’d like to be a step ahead. Your quarters are a little bigger than any of the empty ones, and—”

“Yes,” interrupted Lynne. “Absolutely. I’d love for Seven to have my quarters. Maybe she’d even like to keep some of the things that won’t fit in here. And we can help her move in.”

Janeway smiled at Lynne’s instant enthusiasm. “I think the biggest issue is going to be installing her alcove. Other than that, it’s more a matter of replicating what she wants and having it delivered.”

“What fun is that?” asked Lynne indignantly. “No beer and pizza? No moving party with all her friends, to put boxes in the wrong place and generally make more work than they save? Come on, Kathryn, this is tradition. Seven should have the whole experience.”

Now Janeway laughed. “I’m getting the sense that moving is a different thing in your experience than it is here. Starfleet personnel travel light. And Seven has even less than the rest of us.”

“Never bring more than you can carry out in one box, running,” said Lynne.

“What?”

“A bit of advice I read once, regarding taking a job in a volatile market. Sounds like it applies here, too.”

“Normally it would,” agreed Janeway. “Voyager’s a little different, though. We’ve got more time to accumulate things.”

Lynne squeezed her. “That just means we’ll have more cool things to show off when we get home. Not everyone in Starfleet can boast Delta Quadrant souvenirs, you know.”

Janeway rested her hands on top of Lynne’s and rubbed gently. “Always looking on the bright side, aren’t you?”

“Well, for me there isn’t any other side,” Lynne pointed out. “Voyager is my home now. I’m not as invested as everyone else in getting back. Earth for me doesn’t mean the same thing that it does for all of you. And unless you’re there, it means very little at all.”

Janeway turned in Lynne’s arms until she could look into her eyes. Lynne gazed back, lifting an eyebrow in question.

“What?”

Janeway didn’t answer right away, and Lynne began to fidget under her stare.

“What?” she demanded.

Janeway leaned in and kissed her. “Nothing,” she said, settling back into her original position. “Just—don’t ever change.”

“Okay.” Lynne was obviously confused, but she wasn’t asking any more questions. They fell silent, enjoying each other’s warmth. For the moment, their physical connection was telling them all they needed to know.

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 5

 

 

Seven activated the entry chime at precisely 1800 hours. Lynne hadn’t said why her presence was requested, but Seven assumed it had something to do with the upcoming wedding ceremony. They were only two days away from planet Bliss, as the crew had begun calling it—a reference she did not understand until B’Elanna explained the concept of “wedded bliss”—and she knew that Lynne was beginning to feel the stress. She would help in any way that she could.

At Lynne’s call, she stepped forward and watched as the door opened. Her eyebrow rose.

The quarters were very different from when she had been here last. Lynne was normally an extremely tidy person, but today a pile of packing totes took up space in the center of the living room. Looking around, Seven noted that several of the framed pictures had been taken off the walls and were now stacked on the floor, and most of the plants had joined the pile in the center of the room. Lynne herself stood by the pile, pushing a lock of hair out of her face and smiling at Seven.

“Hi, Seven, thanks for coming. Don’t worry, I didn’t ask you here to help me move.”

Seven stepped into the room, allowing the door to swish shut behind her. “You said you would not move until after the wedding.”

“I wasn’t, but it turns out that Kathryn needs these quarters for someone else in the crew. It’s only a few days until the wedding anyway, so I don’t have a problem moving a little early. Actually, it works out better this way. Now when Kathryn and I get back from our honeymoon, I can just settle in without having to deal with moving.”

Seven felt a pang of disappointment. She had planned to ask the captain for her own quarters, but had decided to wait until after the wedding and honeymoon before approaching her. She knew Kathryn was extremely busy, and did not wish to burden her with one more issue. It appeared that her consideration had cost her. She had thought that once Lynne and Kathryn joined their living quarters, it would be perfectly logical for her to move into Lynne’s old quarters. And now someone else had established prior claim. Obviously, being considerate was not always the best choice.

She looked at Lynne, who was observing her with a half-smile on her face. “If you did not wish for my assistance in moving, why did you ask me here?”

“Because I wanted to speak with you.” The low voice was instantly recognizable, and Seven looked behind Lynne to see Kathryn emerging from the bedroom, carrying a tote. She deposited it on the pile in the center of the room, then straightened to meet Seven’s eyes.

“Seven, has Lynne given you your dress yet?”

Seven looked from one to the other, not understanding why Lynne had such an amused expression on her face. “You are referring to the dress I’ll be wearing at your wedding?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen the specifications, but I haven’t yet replicated it.”

Kathryn nodded. “I thought so. You don’t have anyplace to hang it in the cargo bay. So I thought maybe you’d like to hang it here instead, in your quarters.”

Seven blinked. This was so unexpected that she actually had to replay Kathryn’s statement in her mind before responding.

“You are offering me Lynne’s quarters?”

Kathryn gave her one of her rare full smiles, the ones that always made Seven feel a little thrill down her spine. She had never understood how such an instant physiological response could result from a simple smile.

“Only if you want them. But I hope you’ll accept. This has quite a few advantages over the cargo bay.”

Seven stepped forward, looking around the space with an entirely different perspective. Her quarters. Hers. She had never claimed anything as hers, not since before her assimilation. It was a novel concept.

Her attention was drawn back by Lynne’s loud whisper. “She’s not saying anything, Kathryn. Maybe she doesn’t want them after all.”

“No!” said Seven. “I…I mean, yes, I would very much like to live here. I accept your offer, Kathryn. Thank you. You’ve anticipated my request—I had planned to ask you about acquiring my own quarters, but did not wish to burden you until after the ceremony and honeymoon.”

Kathryn stepped closer. “I appreciate your consideration. But just so you know, you wouldn’t have burdened me. I’m only sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize you’d gotten to this point. I thought you were perfectly happy in the cargo bay.”

Seven almost asked her what had corrected her impression, but before the words reached her mouth she knew.

: Revi. :

There was a pause before Revi responded. When she did, Seven could actually hear a sheepish tone to her thought.

: Yeah, it was me. I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds, Seven, but I saw a chance to drop Kathryn a hint for you. I never expected her to act this fast—that was only two days ago. :

Seven looked right at Kathryn while she sent her next thought. : When you’ve known her longer, you’ll expect it. Thank you, Revi. :

: You’re welcome. You’re not angry with me? :

: Of course not. :

By now both Kathryn and Lynne were looking a bit quizzical, and Seven knew her mental conversation had taken too long.

“I was confirming a suspicion,” she explained.

Lynne’s look of confusion didn’t change, but Kathryn’s did.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Seven. She meant well.”

“I understand that. I just told her I wasn’t angry.”

Lynne looked back and forth between them. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on?”

Kathryn met Seven’s eyes, and by her silence Seven understood that it was up to her to answer. She looked at Lynne. “What is ‘going on’ is that I suspected Kathryn’s sudden realization regarding my wanting new quarters was due to Revi’s interference. I just asked Revi and she confessed.” She lifted an eyebrow. “It’s difficult to keep secrets for long in an interlink.”

“Whew,” said Lynne. “I can see where that could be both good and bad.”

“I see nothing negative about it,” said Seven. “Such complete understanding is a desirable change for me, compared to the human interactions I’ve experienced.”

“Yeah, well you’ll see the negative the first time you don’t want Revi to know something,” said Lynne.

Seven was honestly confused. “Why would I ever wish to keep anything from her?” she asked.

Lynne opened her mouth, apparently thought the better of it, and shook her head. “I hope you never do, Seven. But enough of that. The real reason I asked you here, besides giving Kathryn the chance to surprise you, was to ask you if you wanted any of my things. This pile right here is all I’m taking with me to Kathryn’s quarters. Before I recycled the rest I thought you might want to take a look at it.”

Again Seven was taken by surprise. Having never had her own quarters, she’d never given any thought to what she might wish to have in them. Looking around the walls, she said, “I believe I will enjoy choosing my own art, Lynne, so I will not require any of these.”

Lynne nodded. “Not surprising. Art’s a personal thing. I just don’t have room for any more pictures than I’m taking. How about the furniture?”

Seven frowned. She was always more comfortable standing, so there didn’t seem to be any reason to keep the couch and chair. “I do not believe I’ll need those,” she said, pointing.

“You might want to think twice about that,” said Kathryn. “I know you’re not a fan of sitting, but others are. If you ever plan to have guests over, you have to think about their comfort as well as your own.”

Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. “You’re right, Kathryn. In that case I shall keep them. Should I keep the bed for the same reason?”

Lynne coughed, and Kathryn appeared to find something fascinating in the carpet. After a moment Kathryn looked back up, a flush receding from her face. “I guess that would depend on whether you’re expecting your guests to require a bed, Seven.” She held up a hand, stopping Seven’s response. “And that’s not any of my business. But aside from the issue of company, there’s also the issue of your own journey toward humanity. You might just find that you’ll enjoy learning how to sleep versus regeneration, and there’s nothing like a bed for that.” She snapped her fingers. “Which reminds me, I had B’Elanna check into installing your alcove here. And I’m sorry to say that it’s not possible, Seven. The energy needs of the alcove exceed the power supply to the living quarters, and installing a new conduit on the deck would take more resources than I can justify for one person. I had to tell Revi the same thing today.”

“I understand,” said Seven, realizing that her friend felt this to be a failure of some sort. “I’m more than happy to have the privacy of my own quarters; going to the cargo bay when I require regeneration will not be a hardship.”

“Well, I’ve got a work crew in the cargo bay tomorrow, installing a partition to block off your alcoves. The alcove space will require an entry code, so no one other than you, Revi, Chakotay, Tuvok and myself will have access. You’ll have privacy there, too.”

Seven stared at her captain, feeling a warmth suffusing her chest. Kathryn had altered her perception of their relationship two days ago, when she’d asked her to be in the wedding. And now she was going out of her way to ensure Seven’s privacy, taking action as soon as she’d realized that there was an issue. Seven was beginning to understand that while Kathryn did not always communicate her feelings verbally, her actions could be seen as a type of communication as well.

Reaching out, she grasped Kathryn’s hand. A momentary surprise flickered across the captain’s face, but she squeezed Seven’s hand in return.

“You have made me feel that I’m important to you,” said Seven earnestly. “Thank you for that. It means a great deal to me.”

Kathryn’s expression softened. “You’re welcome, Seven. It means a lot to me to be able to give this to you. It seems small repayment for the friendship and trust you’ve given me over the years.”

They held hands for a few moments longer, then let go. Seven looked around the quarters once again.

“Should I keep any other items?” she asked.

“How about this?” Lynne walked to a small table, picked up a framed holophoto, and brought it back to Seven.

Intrigued, Seven examined the photo. She immediately recognized the setting; it was at a party twenty-six days ago in honor of a holiday that she was certain Neelix had invented. The photo showed herself, Revi, Kathryn, Lynne, B’Elanna and Harry holding drinks up and smiling for the camera. She remembered the Doctor insisting on recording the party “for posterity,” and despite audible expressions of distaste by most of the individuals in the photo, they had all posed obligingly. All but one, she realized now. Revi’s head was slightly turned, her gaze focused on Seven rather than the camera. The knowledge that she was the focus of such a look made Seven unaccountably happy. She had not witnessed it at the time, but for once she was in agreement with the Doctor’s insistence on taking holophotos. If he had not taken this one, she would never have been aware of this moment.

“You do not wish to keep this?” she asked.

“It’s not mine, Seven. We had it made for you.”

Seven looked up from the holophoto. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s called a housewarming gift,” said Kathryn. “Among humans it’s customary to celebrate the acquisition of new quarters by giving a gift. This is ours to you. We thought you might enjoy having a holophoto of your collective.”

The word brought Seven up short. It was true that in the past she had referred to Voyager’s crew as her collective, but that no longer seemed an appropriate term for the women in front of her. Two days ago both Kathryn and Lynne had referred to her as family; the first time in her conscious existence that she was part of any such thing. Her preassimilation memories of her parents were vague and carried little emotional resonance, although on three occasions Revi had helped her access memories that now carried far more import. The recovered memories evinced different emotions than those she was feeling now, however.

“Thank you,” she said. “However, I believe your terminology is inaccurate. While B’Elanna Torres and Harry Kim would be considered members of my collective, that term is no longer sufficient to describe my relationship with the two of you and Revi. You are my family.” She looked at the holophoto again, running her finger along its base. “Until two nights ago I did not realize that one may choose one’s family. I thought the term defined only genetic relations. Your choice of me is a gift.” She raised her head, frustrated by her inability to fully express her feelings. “But I don’t know how to convey the personal importance that gift has for me.”

“Yes you do,” said Kathryn, a soft smile on her face. “In fact, you just did. And you’re very welcome.” She stepped forward, and Seven found herself cradled in what was becoming an increasingly comfortable—and desirable—physical closeness.

“I have grown to appreciate this activity,” she said happily.

“Me too.” Kathryn’s voice was soft and right next to her ear. Then she was released, only to have Lynne step into Kathryn’s place.

“I want one too,” she said. “You give great hugs, Seven.”

“I do?” Seven had never considered that she might have an aptitude for an activity that was still so new to her.

“Oh yeah,” Lynne said, squeezing her gently and then pulling away. “Plus you’re tall. We fit perfectly.”

Kathryn put her hands on her hips. “And what does that make me?”

“Short,” said Lynne. She pulled Kathryn into her arms, though Seven noted that Kathryn’s body was rather stiff. “But you fit perfectly, too. I love being able to tuck you under my chin.”

With some interest, Seven noted Kathryn’s body relaxing at Lynne’s words. A moment later the captain pushed away and gave Lynne a look that Seven recognized. When it was turned on her, it usually meant she was in trouble.

“You’re lucky we’re in Seven’s quarters,” Kathryn warned. “Or you’d be paying for that short remark.”

“Take notes, Seven,” said Lynne. “Honesty is not always the best policy.”

“I believe,” said Seven, “that in this instance, silence is the best policy.”

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 6

 

 

Kathryn Janeway rushed back into her bathroom, cursing to herself. She didn’t have anything left in her stomach, why was it insisting on rebelling? A few minutes of crouching over the toilet and producing nothing left her exhausted and thoroughly pissed off.

Seven appeared in the bathroom doorway, looking stunning in her classically cut silk dress. A long, straight silver skirt and matching jacket enhanced her height and slender build. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, softening her face and giving her normally austere beauty an accessibility, a humanity that changed her appearance entirely.

Walking to the sink with brisk efficiency, Seven wet a washcloth with cool water and knelt behind Janeway, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other hand to hold the cloth against her forehead.

“It’s all right, Kathryn,” she said quietly. “Revi says this is normal and to be expected.”

Janeway briefly considered fighting off Seven’s hold, then gave in. She leaned back against the warm body behind her, breathing hard after her latest bout. “How can this be normal?” she complained. “We’ve been engaged for two months; planned the wedding for a week and a half. I’ve been counting the days. I was looking forward to this. Hell, this was my idea!”

“Revi says it’s because no matter how long you have been planning this, the fact remains that you are irrevocably changing your life. And for such a…for a person whose life is as ordered as yours, that change is frightening and can produce physical repercussions.”

Sick as she was, Janeway could still smile at Seven’s obvious editing. “A person whose life is as ordered as mine, huh? What did she really say?”

Seven’s voice was somewhat subdued. “She said ‘control freak.’”

Janeway laughed weakly. “Tell her it takes one to know one.”

It had been an extremely busy week; once they’d arrived at the planet now officially named “Bliss” and confirmed its suitability for landing, they’d brought Voyager down and the repairs had begun. Planetside repairs always carried a certain urgency with them, because no starship crewmember really liked seeing their ship on the ground. It was too vulnerable there; a graceful aerial predator brought down to earth. As nice as it was to have real sunlight streaming through their viewports, everyone on Voyager was anxious to get her back into space. Janeway had thrown herself into the repairs as well, happily rolling up her sleeves and using her engineering skills. They’d completed all of the repairs, overhauls and upgrades in the five-day time frame that B’Elanna had projected. Voyager was now in the best shape she’d been in for some time, and was ready for relaunching at a moment’s notice.

But her crew wasn’t on board. Except for a skeleton crew, everyone else was standing in the luxurious grass carpeting the valley floor where they’d landed. Waiting for the wedding to start.

Waiting for her and Lynne.

“Is Lynne ready?” she asked.

“B’Elanna said she’s been almost as sick as you. But yes, she’s ready. It’s time, Kathryn. I’m sure you’ll feel better as soon as the ceremony is over.”

Janeway nodded, knowing this was true but wondering how she’d ever get through the ceremony itself. “God, Seven, I don’t understand this. I’ve negotiated treaties, fought my way out of ambushes, hell, I even convinced the Borg to introduce me to you! But never in all of those times did I feel anything like what I’m feeling now.”

Seven tightened her arm around Janeway’s waist. “Never in all of those times were you giving your heart to another in front of one hundred and twenty witnesses,” she said. “I believe the circumstances are somewhat different.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Janeway groaned.

“Kathryn.” Seven’s voice was firm. “You must stand up. You will feel better once you move beyond this waiting stage. It’s time.”

“I know, I know. God, you make it sound so easy.”

With Seven’s help, Janeway managed to make it back to her feet. Sending Seven out, she brushed her teeth for the third time that morning, touched up her lipstick and straightened out her dress uniform. Looking in the mirror, she saw no signs of the confident, beautiful woman that Lynne insisted she was.

But Lynne was counting on her, and she’d die before she’d let that woman down. Lifting her chin and putting her shoulders back, Janeway made her way out into their living room. She paused at the bedroom doorway, marveling at the beauty standing in their quarters.

Lynne had chosen everyone’s outfits except Janeway’s. She’d wanted Seven’s dress to compliment Janeway’s dress uniform, and had gotten an idea when Janeway had shown her a holophoto of Seven in her original silver biosuit. Both of them agreed that the color was stunning on the tall blonde, so Lynne had searched the database and come up with the dress and jacket Seven was now wearing. Both were solid, shimmering silver except for a wide band of color running from the left shoulder to the right waist on both front and back, giving the appearance of a sash. The band was the exact color of Janeway’s red dress uniform, and contrasted with the silver to striking effect. The outfit, combined with Seven’s loose hair, created a picture that no one on Voyager would soon forget. The first time Lynne had seen Seven in it, she’d reported back to Janeway that there was no way the brides would be the center of attention in this wedding.

Looking at Seven now, Janeway understood exactly what Lynne had meant. The woman she’d known for almost three years had undergone so many changes that sometimes Janeway felt she was barely keeping up. Now she saw a confident, assured beauty who could tear the heart out of anyone she chose.

Janeway smiled, momentarily forgetting her own nervousness. Seven had no idea of her own power. Oh, she was well enough aware of her intelligence and physical strength, but she still didn’t understand the power she carried by virtue of her appearance and the personality that shone through it. Her physical beauty alone had long attracted various crewmembers, but over the last two months, the caring personality that had once been visible only to her closest friends had begun to be apparent to others, causing a rash of unrequited love to break out. Janeway kept her ear to the grapevine, and she heard the rumors. Half of the men on board—and not a few of the women—had suddenly begun to view Seven as someone who might actually be attainable. Seven herself was oblivious to the way people had begun jockeying for position, readying themselves to make the approach.

What none of those crewmembers knew was that Seven’s heart had already been given to another. Seven hadn’t said as much, but Janeway and Lynne had both agreed it was a done deal. The only problem was that the recipient of that heart didn’t seem to be aware of it. Lynne was of the opinion that once Revi saw Seven in this outfit, she’d have to admit her own attraction. Janeway wasn’t so sure. She had a suspicion that Revi had already admitted her attraction, but was denying herself the right to pursue or even accept it. And she had no idea what could be done about it.

Seven turned and smiled when she saw Janeway.

“You look much better. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” said Janeway. “I think I am.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Standing at the top of Voyager’s gangplank, Janeway watched Seven stride down the walkway that passed between the two groups of watching crewmembers. There was none of the normal division between bride’s and groom’s guests, for obvious reasons, so people had simply arranged themselves according to what space was available and where their friends were. The end result was fairly even on both sides of the walkway.

Seven’s destination was the raised platform that had been constructed for the ceremony. Waiting on that platform, resplendent in dress uniform, was Acting Captain Chakotay, who had received official command of Voyager earlier that morning. He would remain Acting Captain for the next two weeks, while Voyager orbited the planet. A general shore leave had been accorded the crew, in conjunction with Lynne and Janeway’s honeymoon. It was a much-needed break for everyone. Like any good captain, Janeway could sense the morale of her crew, and it was at an all-time high today. She thought back to her discussion with Revi less than two weeks earlier, when the doctor had insisted that her wedding was not a political tool. Looking down on the happy crew standing in the field, Janeway knew that Revi had been wrong. This wedding meant much more than her joining with Lynne. It meant that life was going on, despite their situation. It meant that pairings had been formally sanctioned, and Janeway fully expected that in the next few months there would be a flurry of requests for her services as the only person aboard who could officiate at weddings. She knew this was just the first.

Seven moved down the walkway, apparently oblivious to the murmurs of appreciation that reached Janeway’s ears. Nobody who saw the ex-Borg could help but react to her pure beauty, all the more irresistible because Seven was so unaware. She reached the platform, stepped up to the level one step below Chakotay, and turned back toward Janeway.

Ensign Kim and his band, situated to the side of the guests, changed the tempo of their playing. That was Janeway’s cue, and she walked down the gangplank to step onto the pathway. Purposefully slowing her normal stride, she took her time walking to the platform, acknowledging as many of the crew as she could with a smile and a nod. Her leg muscles were quivering and threatening to give up altogether, but she was determined that no one would see it. With all outward indications of confidence, she mounted the steps to the platform and stood next to Seven, turning toward the ship.

What an amazing view, she thought. It wasn’t often she got the chance to see Voyager from the outside, and even less often that she was able to see her on the ground. She felt a surge of pride, looking at this beautiful, sleek ship and knowing that it was hers. Voyager stood firmly on her struts, gleaming white against the backdrop of heavily forested mountains. She looked like a dangerous bird of prey, crouching with wings half out, moments away from launching into the sky.

And then her attention was drawn to the motion at the top of the gangplank, as well as another change in the music. There was B’Elanna in all her finery, beginning her walk down. Janeway smiled, remembering how honored her chief engineer had been when Lynne had asked her to stand up for her—and how she’d disguised her feelings with a barrage of jokes and commentary that fooled no one. Like Seven, B’Elanna had shed her normal uniform for a dress that completely transformed her. Hers matched Seven’s in general style, except that the jacket was short-waisted. The color was a deep bronze, complimenting her skin tone, and the color bands in the front and back were a dark green.

It seemed to take no time at all before B’Elanna joined Seven and Janeway on the platform, standing a two meters away and winking at the captain before turning to face the ship. The music changed one last time, and Janeway felt her mouth go dry when Lynne appeared at the head of the gangplank.

Her partner had chosen to wear the same dress she’d worn at the Tsian banquet, with the addition of a matching short-waisted jacket. The green of the dress matched the green in B’Elanna’s ensemble. More than that, Janeway knew, it matched her eyes. And she waited with great impatience to see those eyes up close and personal.

Gracefully, Lynne moved down the gangplank to the walkway. Her height and athletic build made for an arresting appearance, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a classic formal style. The shimmering fabric of her dress draped beautifully as she walked, and the sunlight sparkled off the earrings Janeway had given her months ago.

Janeway smiled. You were wrong, Lynne. Seven’s stunning, but you’re still the center of attention. At least for me.

Lynne turned her head from side to side, acknowledging the greetings of her friends in the audience, but before she’d gotten halfway to the platform her gaze was riveted on Janeway. For her part, Janeway was aware of nothing else as the better part of her heart walked up and stopped on the step below her, putting them at eye level. They stared at one another for several seconds before Lynne took the final step to stand next to her. Janeway reached out and took her hand, surprised to find it trembling. She squeezed it comfortingly, her own nervousness vanishing without a trace. Now that she was holding Lynne, now that they were actually here, she couldn’t wait to make this official. She wanted everyone in the universe to know that this woman was hers; that she was utterly unavailable.

They both turned to face Chakotay, who smiled broadly at them, cleared his throat, and began the ceremony.

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven of Nine stood just behind her friend and captain, watching the ceremony with fascination. The symbolism and traditions were interesting, but what she found most riveting was the emotion that flowed between Kathryn and Lynne. Seven had never thought of herself as sensitive to emotion, but either she’d become more sensitive or the emotions present at this ceremony were stronger than normal. She suspected the latter. After all, it wasn’t often that Kathryn’s voice trembled as it was right now, while she recited the vows she’d written for Lynne. And Lynne’s expression projected a happiness and love that even Seven could easily read. They had chosen each other as family, and something more.

As Seven’s understanding of the varieties of human relationships increased, so too did her need for terms of definition. Gradually, after her severance from the Borg, she had come to accept the crew of Voyager as her new collective. But there had always been one individual for whom that term was insufficient. It wasn’t until nine months and six days after her separation that Kathryn Janeway herself had provided the required definition. They’d been in the brig of Arturis’ ship, minutes away from assimilation by the Borg, and Kathryn had said, “I’m your captain. That means I can’t always be a friend.” Seven had not understood at the time, but later examination had brought a startling realization: not only had Kathryn defined their unique relationship, but her use of the present tense indicated that she had considered Seven a “friend” prior to the incident on Arturis’ ship. How much prior, Seven could not guess.

Lynne’s arrival on Voyager had brought with it another change in the relationship between Seven and Kathryn. At first Seven had fought it, resenting any change in the relationship that brought her the only long-term emotional connection she had known since being taken from her parents. She’d had an intense emotional connection to One, of course, but it had been abbreviated by his death, and had resulted in such pain that she preferred not to think about it.

But then, to her complete surprise, she had found that the change Lynne brought was a positive one, resulting in a new friendship and a stronger connection with Kathryn. Over time she had even added B’Elanna Torres to her short list of friends, an event which she would formerly have classified as highly improbable. And her relationship with both Kathryn and Lynne had gradually changed to something different: more than friendship, but beyond her capacity to define it.

Then Revi had joined their collective, bringing with her yet another layer of personal interaction for which Seven had no definition. It had all of the instant mental connectivity of the Borg, with the emotional depth and resonance of human friendship. Revi had, with no apparent effort, joined Kathryn and Lynne in that new and amorphous category of “more than friends,” and Seven could only consider the three women a unique sub-unit; special in a way that she did not fully understand.

Once again it had been Kathryn who provided her with the understanding she craved. Only eleven days ago she had called Seven her family, and Seven had immediately reclassified the sub-unit of Kathryn, Lynne and Revi using this new term. It felt right, and she had been contented with her new understanding.

Yet now, as she stood on the dais and watched Kathryn and Lynne publicly claim each other as lovers and life partners, she realized that her understanding had remained incomplete. Family was not the deepest level of human emotional connection; there was one more. She was seeing it now—a connection in which two individuals chose each other as partners, with whom they could freely share thoughts, beliefs, doubts and fears. A choice that brought to each partner the security inherent in knowing that she was the only one—she was unique. In Seven’s studies of human romantic interaction she had pursued knowledge in an objective fashion, without any true understanding of where it could lead. Now that understanding came to her with a stunning intensity. She, too, wished to make a choice, and to be chosen by another.

Turning her head, she scanned the guests facing the platform. It took her three point nine seconds to locate Revi, and less than that to make her choice. It had been building from the moment she’d met Revi, but only now did she realize exactly what it was that she had been feeling. She wanted to redefine their relationship. She wanted them both to stand on a platform just like this one, and speak words of commitment like those she was hearing right now. She wanted a promise of forever to replace the one she’d lost when she’d been separated from the Collective. “Family” was no longer a sufficient term for the role she wished Revi to take in her life. Kathryn and Lynne were close friends; her family of choice—but Revi had become more than that.

What was she to Revi?

As she watched, Revi’s head turned slightly, and their eyes met with an almost physical jolt. And just for a moment, before Revi clamped down on her shields, Seven felt her emotion. She saw it cross Revi’s face as well, and nearly staggered with the force of it. But it wasn’t love, or happiness, or anything like what she was sensing between Kathryn and Lynne. It was fear.

Revi broke their eye contact, and Seven stared at her, willing her to turn back and face her. When that didn’t work, she reached out through their link.

: Revi, what’s wrong? :

: Leave it alone, Seven. :

: No. You were afraid. I wish to help you. What were you afraid of? :

: You can’t help, Seven. Please, leave it alone. :

And that was all Revi would say. She remained stubbornly silent in their link, focusing her thoughts solely on the ceremony, until Seven gave up her attempts and refocused her full attention to the ceremony as well. Kathryn and Lynne had completed their vows, and Chakotay was now ending his speech. With a flourish, he announced that the two women were now joined, and commanded them to seal the contract with a kiss. With faces nearly split by enormous smiles, Kathryn and Lynne did just that, to the shouts, hoots and whistles of the audience. After several seconds, the newly joined couple drew apart, but to Seven it was obvious that they neither heard nor saw anything but each other. A touch from Chakotay drew their attention, and they turned toward the crew, holding their clasped hands up between them. A deafening roar rose up, joined by thunderous applause that echoed off the mountain slopes behind them. Kathryn and Lynne smiled at each other again, then stepped off the platform and walked back through the crowd. At the base of the gangplank they walked beneath the gleaming belly of the grounded ship, toward the reception area that had been set up on the other side.

B’Elanna nudged Seven, and together they followed the new couple. Seven knew they had one duty left—to give the toasts—before the party could truly begin. Then she would find Revi.

As she moved out from the shadow of the ship, she saw the tables laden with food and drink. One table was fairly bristling with champagne flutes, and Neelix held court behind it, happily pouring drinks for Kathryn and Lynne. He motioned B’Elanna and Seven over with tremendous enthusiasm.

“Isn’t this just fantastic? Have you ever seen two more beautiful ladies?” he asked, motioning toward the newlyweds. “Of course, the two of you are hardly less lovely,” he hastened to add. B’Elanna rolled her eyes.

“Stuff the flattery and just give me the bubbly, Neelix. I want to get this thing moving.”

For once Seven agreed with her friend. She had no patience for Neelix at this moment.

“Certainly, certainly. Here you go.” He handed a full glass to B’Elanna. “Annnd…” Reaching beneath the table, he brought another glass out with a great flourish. “Here you go, Seven. One glass of sparkling cider.”

Seven accepted the glass. “Thank you.”

They followed Kathryn and Lynne to another platform, which would raise them above the crowd for the toast. Then would come the formal first dances, and after that the party would begin in earnest. Kathryn had warned Seven that it might go on for hours, but stated that her obligation ended after the second dance. “I know this kind of socializing isn’t your favorite thing,” she’d said, “so if you want to leave after your dance, it’s all right.” Seven had appreciated her consideration then, and even more so now. She knew that once Kathryn and Lynne got on the dance floor, her opportunities to spend time with them would be minimal at best. She would enjoy socializing with B’Elanna, and hoped that she could convince Revi to dance, but other than that she had no desire to “party all day,” as she’d heard several of the crew referring to it.

As the crowd surrounded the drink table, a few people stepped behind it to help Neelix with pouring duties. Soon the platform was surrounded by an expectant crew holding their drinks, and the noise of dozens of separate conversations died down as if by general order. When the silence was total, B’Elanna looked at Seven.

“Guess this is my cue. Kahless, I hate public speaking. How did I ever let Lynne talk me into this?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Shut up, Seven.”

B’Elanna stepped forward and spoke in a voice that was designed to carry over the sound of a pulsing warp core. It worked equally well for addressing a crowd of one hundred and twenty people. The skeleton crew still on Voyager would be watching on viewscreens when they were able.

“Not many of you are aware that when I first met Lynne Hamilton, I invited her to step out in the hallway with the intention of pounding her into the ground. Our relationship has improved some since then.” A laugh swept the crowd, many of whom were all too familiar with B’Elanna’s temper.

“The strangest thing about that meeting,” she continued, “was the fact that Lynne won that fight without ever lifting a hand. She won it with a few well-chosen words, and I knew then that this woman was devious and too intelligent for her own good. In other words, she was the perfect match for Captain Janeway.” Another, louder laugh.

“It’s been a year since then, and my first impression has been proven right over and over again. She is devious. She is the perfect match for our captain. And she is my very good friend.” She smiled at Lynne before turning her attention back to the crowd.

“Lynne has taken me on adventures, shown me things I’d never seen before, pissed me off, made me laugh, and saved my life. I know that many of you here have been touched by her special brand of kindness, her thoughtfulness, and her humor. Now it’s our chance to touch her in turn, and wish her the best in what is bound to be the most difficult—and the most rewarding—journey she’s ever taken.”

She turned toward Lynne. “May this joining bring you the family and the home that you deserve, and may you find with Captain Janeway all that you thought you left behind.” Holding up her glass, she shouted, “To Lynne!”

“To Lynne!” came the thunderous response, followed by silence as everyone downed half their drinks. The applause was loud and sustained, and Seven saw Lynne duck her head and wipe her eyes before mouthing the words “thank you” to B’Elanna.

Once the applause had died down, Seven stepped forward. Scanning the crowd, she saw Revi standing near the back and once again felt a jolt down her spine. Revi smiled at her.

: Go on, Seven. You’re going to be fantastic. She’ll love it. :

Reassured by the connection, Seven smiled back. Whatever had distressed Revi earlier was no longer in evidence; her thoughts were focused on the ceremony in general and Seven’s toast specifically. She’d helped Seven write it, and had encouraged her to use Kathryn’s first name instead of her title, given the personal nature of the ceremony. Seven had been grateful for her assistance, particularly given the fact that her toast would also serve as a means of expressing a complicated set of emotions that she hadn’t yet been able to verbalize. She wanted Kathryn to know what her support had meant over the last three years.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and began.

“When I first heard that Captain Janeway was involved in a romantic relationship, I assumed that the information was incorrect. This was based partly on the fact that the source of my information was Mr. Kim.” There was a general round of laughter at Harry’s expense, and Seven was pleased that her humor had been well-received. Harry laughed as well, raising his glass to Seven in acknowledgment. Seven nodded, and prepared for the more serious part of her speech.

“My assumption was also based on my erroneous view of Kathryn Janeway. I saw her as my captain and my mentor, but not as a human being with human needs and emotions. For that I am ashamed, because it was Kathryn who first recognized my own humanity. It has taken me too long to return the favor.

“Three years ago, Kathryn separated me from the Collective, and stood by me as I began a new life. I was not always appreciative of her efforts, and I believe that more than a few of you were witness to the birth pains of that life.” There was a small wave of chuckles as various crewmembers remembered the spectacular arguments that Seven and Janeway had been known for in those early months.

“But she never gave up on me, even when I gave up on myself, and what I am today I owe largely to her. And because the universe tends toward symmetry, it is appropriate that I now stand by her as she embarks on a new life of her own.”

Seven turned from her audience and met Kathryn’s eyes, which were shining with emotion. “Kathryn,” she continued, “may your new life bring you all the joy, the discoveries, and the perfection that you seek. All of us who have benefited from your leadership, your friendship, and your unique individuality wish you the utmost happiness in this union.” Without breaking eye contact, she raised her champagne flute to the crowd. “To Kathryn. My captain, my mentor, my family and my friend. She holds a place in my heart that no other will ever fill.” She saw tears spring to Kathryn’s eyes just before she turned back to the audience. “To Kathryn!”

“To Kathryn!” The response was a roar as a forest of champagne flutes were thrust into the air. The echo of the shout rang off the mountain slopes as the toast was drunk, and then the clapping began, swelling into a thunderous applause as the crew of Voyager told their captain, in the only way some of them ever could, how much she meant to them.

Seven drank the rest of her sparkling cider and had barely pulled the glass away from her lips when she felt her arm taken in a gentle grasp. Looking down, she saw Kathryn smiling up at her, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“Kathryn…” Seven was concerned, and reached out to brush away the tear. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for that toast, Seven.” Kathryn’s voice was throaty. “I have never been so proud of you, and so grateful to have you for my friend, as I am right now.” She plucked Seven’s glass from her hand, set it on the platform, and stepped in for a hug. They held each other for long moments before Kathryn loosened her grip, but instead of stepping back she rose up on tiptoe and brought her mouth close to Seven’s ear.

“I love you, Seven of Nine,” she whispered. “Just remember that. You hold a unique place in my heart as well, and it will always be there for you.” Gently she kissed Seven’s cheek before drawing away.

Stunned, Seven put her hand to her cheek and stared at her friend. She had no idea how to respond to this statement, but fortunately there was no need. The external sound system came to life with a slow song, and Kathryn turned to take Lynne’s hand. Together they walked down the steps and through the parting crowd to the dance floor, where they smoothly moved into a waltz. Seven watched, a strange ache in her chest, until the music ended and her attention was drawn by a tap to her shoulder.

“I think I’m supposed to dance with you now,” said B’Elanna with a smile.

“Do you wish to?”

B’Elanna tilted her head slightly. “Well, yeah. Come on, Seven, when else will I get the chance?”

“I didn’t realize you were waiting for a chance,” said Seven with some confusion.

“Seven, just shut up and dance with me.” B’Elanna grabbed Seven’s hand and pulled her down the steps. The crowd moved aside, and soon they stood on the dance floor. Seven looked down at B’Elanna and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you wish to lead or follow?”

“Oh, now there’s a loaded question,” said B’Elanna. “We’ll let the height factor decide this one. You lead.”

Seven was grateful for the Doctor’s lessons as she easily adjusted her posture for the leading position. Waiting for the beat, she stepped forward and guided them into the dance. Except for Kathryn and Lynne, they were alone on the dance floor and Seven felt slightly self-conscious.

“Seven,” said B’Elanna after several circuits of the dance floor, “don’t get any ideas about me going soft on you, but I have to tell you that you look completely stunning today.”

Seven nearly stumbled, but her cortical implant kept the mathematical rhythm intact despite her surprise. B’Elanna had never complimented her on her appearance before. Her engineering skills, occasionally and grudgingly, but never her appearance.

“Thank you,” she said politely. “You are beautiful as well, B’Elanna.”

“Do you really mean that?”

Seven’s lips curved. She did so enjoy it when opportunities to tease the fiery half-Klingon presented themselves.

“I meant it empirically, yes.”

“Oh, so I’m not subjectively beautiful?” B’Elanna caught on immediately.

“I am certain that to Tom Paris you are.” Seven deliberately side-stepped the question. To her surprise, however, B’Elanna did not take the opening to pursue their teasing conversation. Instead, the smile on her face vanished.

“Yeah, well, I wish I could be so certain of that.”

Instantly Seven felt alarmed and trapped. She could sense an emotional conversation on its way, and knew herself to be utterly unqualified for it. Employing the most efficient solution, she angled their steps to intersect with Kathryn and Lynne. The song was coming to its end, and if she timed it perfectly she would end up right next to the people who were most qualified to deal with an emotional B’Elanna.

“It does not sound as if Tom is communicating with you,” she said. “Perhaps you might wish to speak with Lynne about it?”

B’Elanna looked at her in some surprise as the music ended and they came to a stop. She turned to see Kathryn and Lynne mere centimeters away, and gave Seven a toothy grin.

“Oh, you’re good,” she said. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you just did. But thanks.” With that she stepped over and asked Lynne to dance. Seven could see the crowd pouring onto the dance floor, and knew that if she didn’t approach Kathryn now she might not get another chance this day.

“Kathryn,” she said, “Will you dance with me?”

Kathryn smiled up at her. “I’d love to.”

This time she didn’t ask who would lead, simply assuming that B’Elanna’s solution would apply here as well. Kathryn responded without question, and they swung off on the next beat.

Seven held Kathryn a little closer than she had B’Elanna, but still kept a careful distance between their bodies. Kathryn, however, had other ideas and settled in, resting her head on Seven’s shoulder. They danced in comfortable silence for thirty-eight seconds before Seven concluded that she needed more information.

“Kathryn.”

“Hmm?” Kathryn raised her head and met Seven’s eyes.

“I require clarification. You said…” She hesitated before continuing. Speaking about it aloud was entirely different from considering it in her own mind. “You said you love me, but I don’t know exactly what that means. Certainly it is different from the way in which you love Lynne. How many varieties of love are there?”

“Ask me an easy one, why don’t you?” Kathryn was smiling, but Seven knew from the look in her eye and the way she was tilting her head that she was giving it serious consideration.

“I don’t think your question has an answer,” she said at last. “It has inspired philosophers and poets for generations for precisely that reason. Some say there are as many types of love as there are people who love. But I’m guessing that what you’re really asking is, how is my love for you different from my love for Lynne?”

Seven nodded, relieved that Kathryn understood.

“Believe it or not, Seven, that’s not much easier to answer than your first question. What I feel for you is…complicated. You’ve been like a daughter to me at times, though that’s changed as you’ve regained your humanity. Other times you’re my contemporary and my close friend. Sometimes you’ve been my opponent. You don’t fill any easily defined role in my life—you’re a lot of different things all rolled up into one. The only one you’re not is my lover.”

“And that is Lynne.”

“Yes. Though she’s also my friend, and has on occasion been my opponent as well. She’s not easily categorized, either.”

Nodding again, Seven led them through a spin and said, “My feelings for you are complicated as well, and I am unable to fully categorize them. But if I were certain that what I feel is love, I would inform you immediately.”

Kathryn smiled. “Seven, you already told me.”

This was bewildering—the captain’s memory was rarely this inaccurate. “That is incorrect, Kathryn. I have said no such thing.”

The music ended and they came to a stop in the center of the floor, their bodies still close.

“Yes, you did,” said Kathryn. “At the end of your toast, when you said I had a place in your heart that no other would ever fill. Why else do you think I almost cried?”

Seven opened her mouth to correct Kathryn’s error, but closed it again as she considered the implication. She had meant to use the toast as a way of expressing her emotions. Had Kathryn heard what she really meant, even if she herself hadn’t been able to define it?

A few crew members were walking toward them, and Kathryn pulled Seven in for a tight hug. “Walk me off the floor,” she whispered. “I need a break.”

Seven put her arm around Kathryn’s waist and led them to the refreshment table. If anyone had thoughts of asking the captain to dance, the expression on the ex-Borg’s face stopped them in their tracks.

At the table they selected a few vegetables and pastries, then moved away from the crowd to eat in a quieter area. As they stood in companionable silence, Seven observed Lynne on the dance floor with B’Elanna and wondered how that conversation was proceeding.

“Kathryn,” she asked, “do you feel different now that you’re married?”

“Do you have any easy questions for me?”

“I apologize. I did not realize…”

“No, it’s okay.” Kathryn waved a hand in dismissal. “Frankly, Seven, I’m not sure how I feel right now. I guess ‘overwhelmed’ would be an applicable term.”

This was not a satisfactory answer. “I meant, do you feel differently about Lynne now that you have completed this ceremony?”

“Ah.” Kathryn put her empty plate in a nearby receptacle and turned back to Seven. “My feelings for Lynne haven’t changed because of this, but I think I feel a little differently about our relationship.”

“Explain, please.”

“I knew you’d say that. I’m not sure I can. I guess I feel more confident about us now, because we’ve made a public and legally binding commitment. We’ve just promised each other that we’ll work out any issues, rather than letting them come between us. That means a lot, and we probably would have anyway, but the ceremony makes that commitment stronger. Also, I can’t help but feel a little relieved that Lynne’s off the market.” She laughed at Seven’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, everyone knows that she is no longer available in any way. She’s my wife now.”

Seven did not understand. “Were you concerned about competition for her love?”

“Not from anyone on Voyager. But who knows what will happen in the years to come? I just feel more secure having staked my claim, so to speak. Lynne belongs to me now, and I belong to her. I know that sounds hopelessly primitive, but it’s a very common and very human feeling.”

Their conversation ended as the first of the well wishers came up—even Seven’s presence could not deter them any longer. In moments Kathryn was surrounded by happy crew members, all wanting to speak with her, and Seven quietly moved away. She wished to locate more sparkling cider and Revi, in that order. A quick check with their link showed that Revi was conversing with Tom Paris, though where, she did not know. She would procure her drink and then ask Revi for her location.

Her journey to the drink table was interrupted by Lynne. “Hey, Seven,” she said cheerfully. “I’m the only one in our little group you haven’t danced with yet. Will you do me the honor?”

She could delay finding Revi for a few minutes longer. “Of course,” she said. “But we are the same height. Which of us will lead?”

“Got a coin to toss?” Lynne grinned. “Actually, I think I should lead. It might be my only chance to push you around.”

“If that is your method of leading, then I believe your lessons were severely lacking.”

“Well, why don’t you come down and find out?”

They walked to the dance floor and took but a moment to fit themselves together. Lynne’s lead was very different than the Doctor’s or Lieutenant Chapman’s, the only other individuals Seven had ever followed. Her frame was tighter and she spun them around more often, making for a more active dance. Seven found herself enjoying it, until something very unexpected happened: her link with Revi suddenly ended. Seven was so surprised that she stopped dancing.

“Seven? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. Revi has just entered a regeneration cycle. But it’s not her time.”

Lynne frowned. “Don’t you two have the same regeneration schedule?”

“Yes. And we are not due for our next cycle until 2200 today.” Seven frowned; it had been nine weeks since she’d felt the silence in her mind. She hated it. Even when Revi was not sharing her thoughts directly, she was always there and Seven had become very accustomed to that presence. To have her completely absent was extremely unsettling.

“I must go,” she said.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. Thank you for your offer, but this is your wedding. I have accomplished all that I wanted, except to say goodbye and wish you well on your honeymoon.”

“Thanks, Seven. Go on, I’ll tell Kathryn. But if there’s anything wrong you’ll let us know, right?”

Seven agreed, and after a farewell hug she strode toward the gangplank. With every step the sounds of the reception faded, until she was enveloped by the silence of Voyager’s empty corridors. None of the skeleton crew were visible, and for all that her external senses could determine, Voyager might as well have been entirely abandoned. She shivered, remembering all too clearly her time in the Mutara nebula, when the crew had spent a month in stasis while she and the Doctor—and then she alone—had operated the ship. Never had she felt so desperately alone and frightened as she had then.

But I am not alone, she reminded herself as she stepped into the turbolift. Or was she? “Alone” meant something different now than it had even two months ago. After her experience in the Mutara nebula, she had redefined the concept of “alone” to include the physical absence of others. But the arrival of Revi and the creation of their interlink had been a vivid reminder of how alone one could be inside one’s own mind, even while surrounded by others. And right now, with the link inactive, Seven felt abandoned. Why had Revi left without a word or a thought? What had she been afraid of earlier?

She walked into Cargo Bay Two and straight to the entry of the alcove unit, which opened at her approach. The unit had been erected in a very efficient manner, and Seven was pleased with the result. Having been unconcerned with privacy until recently, she found that it was becoming increasingly important to her. Or perhaps, she thought as she stopped in front of Revi’s alcove and checked her regeneration program, it was Revi’s privacy that had become important to her.

The program was normal and she stood back, giving her full consideration to this new concept. She had never cared about crewmembers seeing her in her alcove, and had even enjoyed knowing that Kathryn sometimes stayed with her—but the idea of anyone watching Revi regenerate caused feelings of irritation and protectiveness.

You do not mind when Kathryn watches her, she thought, staring at Revi’s still form in the alcove. Immediately she began to unravel the contradiction. Why would she find Kathryn’s presence in the alcove unit acceptable, but not that of other crewmembers? Because she was a friend? But Harry Kim could be considered a friend as well, and Seven had been displeased when he had spent time in the cargo bay during their regeneration cycle eight days ago.

Perhaps, then, because she was more than a friend. Kathryn was family. This solution was acceptable until Seven began considering her reaction to other crewmembers who had recently spent time in the cargo bay. The presence of several had displeased her, but Ensign Samantha Wildman had been near their alcoves for nearly an entire regeneration cycle, and Seven had not minded. Yet Ensign Wildman was not family. What did she and Kathryn have in common that would exclude them from Seven’s protective feelings toward Revi?

Ensign Wildman was married. As of today, so was Kathryn, and before this date she had been publicly committed to the bonding. They had, in Kathryn’s words, “staked a claim” on the partner of their choice, and both were unavailable for other partnerships.

Seven drew the inescapable conclusion. Kathryn and Ensign Wildman were not competition, therefore Seven did not mind that they watched Revi. Other crewmembers who were not in exclusive partnerships were, by definition, potential competition. And Seven did not appreciate their eyes or thoughts on Revi in any way.

Kathryn’s words, which had been of academic interest before, suddenly blazed a path through Seven’s mind. She now understood them on an emotional level, and with that understanding came a desire for action. She wanted to “stake a claim” on Revi. She wanted them to enter an exclusive partnership, and for knowledge of that partnership to be made public.

As always, Seven felt at ease upon reaching an understanding of her own emotions and deciding on a course of action. As soon as they came out of their regeneration cycles, she would speak with Revi. On one occasion, Revi had acknowledged a slight romantic attraction to her, and although she had never pursued it or allowed the emotion to surface again, Seven knew for a fact that her friend was not romantically interested in anyone else on Voyager. So far as she could judge from the evidence at hand, she was better positioned than anyone else in the crew to enter into a monogamous relationship with Revi.

Satisfied with her conclusion, Seven stepped up into her own alcove. If Revi chose to regenerate before it was necessary, she would as well. She would not subject herself to this silence of the mind any longer than she had to.

 

 

 

 

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