chapter 4

 

 

B’Elanna looked at Captain Janeway and thought, not for the first time, that there was something not quite human about her. She was pale and her eyes were hard as duranium, but she looked like that on a fairly common basis when something had pissed her off. She’d just watched her wife get assimilated, for Kahless’ sake, and yet she was sitting there calmly listening to Tuvok and asking questions. If it had been her, B’Elanna thought, she’d be tearing the room apart in her rage and fear. And how could Janeway even look at Revi Sandovhar? Everyone on the bridge knew that it had been her who’d told the Borg Queen about Lynne. B’Elanna liked Sandovhar, but she’d just lost a great deal of respect for her. Surely she could have found some way of keeping that little thought to herself.

“B’Elanna.” Janeway turned that hard stare on her. “Do you have any ideas on how we can defend against an out-of-phase transporter and weapon?”

Tuvok and Harry had found that the Borg’s new technology was slightly out of phase with normal space/time, making their shields completely useless. It was a frightening new advance.

“The only way to do it would be to match our shields to their phase,” she answered. “But I can’t even begin to imagine how to do that.”

“There might be a way,” said Seven. All heads turned toward her. “Three days ago the Hamilton Foundation sent a packet of new theories and progress reports regarding faster-than-warp propulsion. Captain Janeway assigned me to look through them and bring the most promising ones to Lieutenant Torres for further examination.” She looked at B’Elanna. “One of them postulated that if a ship could be taken slightly out of phase from normal space/time, it would be freed from the physical limitations that have so far prevented achievement of warp ten.”

“Whoever came up with that one is a bit late,” said B’Elanna. “We achieved warp ten about five years ago, right here on Voyager.”

“Voyager did not achieve it,” Seven pointed out. “A small shuttle did. No method was ever found to prevent the structural stresses from destroying a larger ship. In addition, producing the amount of energy required to propel a larger mass to that velocity is a current theoretical impossibility.”

“And then there’s the little DNA problem,” said Sandovhar, speaking for the first time. “The medical logs show that exposure to warp ten results in a hyper-accelerated genetic evolution. Anyone who attempts it won’t be coming back as a human being.”

“Let’s get back on track, people,” said Janeway. “At the moment I’m not interested in hyper-accelerated genetic evolution or hull stress issues. Does that theory include any proven methods of achieving the phase shift?”

“Nothing proven, no,” Seven answered. “But there are several meritorious concepts.”

“Then let’s look into them. It was your idea, Seven, so you’re heading up this team. Lieutenant Carey and Harry will assist. Let me know how many other staff you need. This is your top priority.”

“Understood.”

“B’Elanna, what happened to the transwarp coil?”

“The Borg weapon disabled it. It was already hot when they hit it, which made the damage worse. I can get it running again in a day, maybe two, but I don’t think I can get it to produce the kind of power it did before. It’s not going to be able to push Voyager into transwarp again.”

There was a collective expulsion of breath as everyone acknowledged the loss of yet another chance to get home.

“Well, at least we got twelve thousand light years out of it,” said Janeway. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Queen let us get it good and hot before she took it out.”

“You believe she was tracking us,” said Seven.

Janeway nodded. “There was nothing accidental about this. B’Elanna, if you can’t get it to power Voyager, can you get it to power the Delta Flyer?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t think so,” snapped Janeway. “Either do it or don’t.”

The tension in the room rose several notches as B’Elanna stiffened. “I can do it.”

“Good. Then that’s your top priority. I need it as soon as possible.” Janeway turned to Sandovhar, who visibly blanched under her gaze. The captain was apparently the only one who didn’t notice.

“Doctor, tell me about the status of the nanoscrubber antidote,” she said in an even voice. Before leaving Alsea, the two doctors had figured out how to deliver the nanoscrubbers in a specially designed phaser rifle. What they were working on now was a means of preventing the nanoscrubbers’ effect on cybernetics. Janeway had stated that she would not use a weapon until she was certain her own people were protected from it—and now Lynne was one of those at risk.

“Incomplete,” said Sandovhar. “We weren’t working on it exclusively, so we hadn’t gotten as far as we could have. I’ll put everything we have on the project.”

“Estimated timeline?”

Sandovhar hesitated. “Sixty hours if we go around the clock.”

“Do it. Get to work, everyone. I want progress reports every four hours, no exceptions.”

“Captain,” said Tuvok, stilling the motion in the room. “There is one thing we have not discussed.”

Janeway just looked at him, which he took as permission to continue.

“We have no means of tracking Ms. Hamilton,” he said. “We can track the ship she was taken on, but there is no guarantee she’ll remain there. The Borg Queen allocates her resources all over the galaxy.”

Kahless, thought B’Elanna. Why not just put a dagger through her heart and twist it?

But Janeway didn’t blink. “We don’t have to track her,” she said. “We just have to track the Queen. And we have the Queen’s cortical implant frequency.” She shifted her gaze to Sandovhar. “Don’t we, Doctor?”

Sandovhar looked ill. “Yes,” she said faintly. “We do. I got it before she pulled out.”

“Lynne is a trophy,” said Janeway in a cool tone, as if she weren’t talking about the woman she’d married. “The Queen will keep her close by. She’s not going to be ‘allocating’ her anywhere for awhile.”

“With respect, Captain, that is only a guess, and one that might be influenced by…wishful thinking.”

B’Elanna couldn’t figure out why Tuvok was still being allowed to breathe. But Janeway just nodded. “I understand your concern, Tuvok. But it’s not a guess.” She looked around the table. “Has anyone else wondered why the Borg Queen would expend considerable resources on what looks like an act of vengeance?”

“Yes,” said Seven promptly. “It shows an emotionalism that is counter to everything I have previously understood about her and the Borg.”

“I thought so, too. And what we’ve learned about the phase-shifted transporter and weapon indicates that the energy required to produce them is tremendous. She probably had just one shot with that transporter before it needed a recharge. Ostensibly she came to recover Seven and force her to complete the design of the assimilation virus, so why didn’t she use that single shot to get her back? We couldn’t have stopped her.” Janeway looked around the table, letting everyone consider the implications.

“She had multiple targets,” Janeway continued, her eyes landing on Sandovhar. “Besides Seven, she now wants Doctor Sandovhar; and judging by the personal nature of her attack, she wants me. And once she got into Doctor Sandovhar’s mind, she added a fourth target. But she made a very efficient choice. She doesn’t know my policy regarding abandoning crew members, because Seven didn’t know it when she was with her. She does, however, know of my…emotional tie with Lynne. So she chose the target that she felt I was most likely to come after. She baited a trap, and expected me to fly Voyager right into it. Take the right target, and the others will follow. She knows we have no transwarp drive now, so I’d bet she’s well within range of warp travel. She’s waiting for us. All of us. Very efficient, I’d say.”

Seven nodded. “That is a logical explanation.”

“Now that she has Lynne, however,” said Janeway, “she may not be expecting Voyager any longer. Lynne knows that I wouldn’t risk the ship.” A very subtle pause in her delivery was the only emotion B’Elanna could detect in that stunning statement. Of course they all knew that for Captain Janeway, the ship came first, but to hear her state it so calmly—while her wife was in the Borg Queen’s hands—was a little unnerving.

“She’s probably readjusted her strategy accordingly, and will be expecting me to come in the Delta Flyer. Which means that our only advantage lies in speed. If we can get the transwarp working on the Delta Flyer, I can get to her before she expects me. It’s possible she won’t have all of her traps set by then. So I need that antidote, Doctor, and I need it soon. I want to leave no later than seventy-two hours from now. In the meantime, the highest priority for Voyager is to work on that phase shift. We need better defenses in case the Queen comes back.”

Chakotay leaned back in his chair. “Captain, you can’t possibly be thinking of going alone.”

Janeway stared at him. “And you can’t possibly be thinking I should take anyone else. You know what my chances are. This isn’t like our other encounters, Chakotay.”

She’s not coming back, thought B’Elanna in sudden understanding. And she doesn’t want to.

“Captain,” said Seven. “As long as Revi and I are on Voyager, this ship is in danger from the Queen. If all three of us are her targets, then all three of us should go.”

“I agree,” said Sandovhar. “If you fail, the Queen will almost certainly return. The only ways to prevent that are to be sure that you don’t fail, or that she gets everything she wants. Either option requires Seven and me to be with you.”

Janeway looked back and forth between them, then dropped her head and massaged her temples. “Fine,” she said without looking up. “You’ve made a good point. And I can’t say I wouldn’t appreciate the company.” She raised her head. “Thank you.”

“You need a pilot, Captain,” said Tom. B’Elanna’s heart dropped into her boots.

“Absolutely not,” said Janeway. “Voyager needs a pilot more.” He opened his mouth, but Janeway held up her hand. “I’m grateful for the offer, Tom, though I suspect B’Elanna isn’t.” She shot a wry glance toward B’Elanna, who tried to look as if she hadn’t been ready to drag Tom out of the room. “But I won’t hear any more of it. I’m only taking Seven and Doctor Sandovhar because they’re right, the Queen would come back for them anyway. She’s not interested in the rest of you, and she’s not really interested in Voyager. So your job is to get home.” She looked around the table again. “Thank you all for your fine work. Dismissed.” After a pause, the staff pushed their chairs back and rose, talking quietly among themselves. Sandovhar and Seven, however, didn’t move. And Janeway didn’t ask them to leave.

As B’Elanna walked out the door, she reflected on the many times she’d wanted to be a fly on the wall when Janeway dressed someone down.

This was not one of those times.

 

 

-----

 

 

As soon as the door shut behind the last crewmember, Janeway leaned her head back against the chair. That meeting had taken everything she had, and she wasn’t sure she could maintain her mask in front of Seven and Revi. But whether she could or not wasn’t really the point, was it? She had to. Period. So she would.

Raising her head, she looked at Revi. “What happened?”

Revi took a deep breath. “She came in on my transceiver,” she said. “There was no warning; she was just there. Taking everything. My only hope was to compartmentalize the most important thoughts and try to keep her out of there as long as possible.”

“But she got in and found out about Lynne anyway.”

“No, she didn’t get in.” Revi met her gaze squarely. “That’s not what I chose to hide from her. I hid the nanoscrubber technology. She took everything else, and when she found my thoughts of Lynne she withdrew. She didn’t look beyond that.”

For just a moment, Janeway wanted to kill her. The woman in front of her had deliberately given Lynne up to assimilation in order to protect a weapon. Her rage must have shown in her face, because Revi’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” she whispered. “So sorry.” Please forgive me, her expression said, but she wouldn’t ask it out loud.

Janeway closed her eyes and took a few shuddering breaths. God, she was right on the edge. She couldn’t look at Revi until she’d wrestled the anger and fear under control. With a mental wrench, she reminded herself of what was truly important in the big picture—and as far as Starfleet and the best interests of the Federation were concerned, that wasn’t Lynne.

“It’s all right, Revi,” she said quietly. “You did your job.”

The tears overflowed and ran down Revi’s cheeks. “Gods, I wish you’d just scream at me. This is so much worse.”

Seven was at her partner’s side in an instant, a protective arm around her shoulders. She looked at Janeway in mute misery.

They needed her. Seven had lost her best friend, and had witnessed the violation of Revi’s mind. Revi had been forced to make an impossible choice while having her mind stripped by a ruthless enemy. And both of them knew that the Queen viewed them as desirable resources. They needed Janeway; they were looking to her to provide comfort and wisdom in this moment of fear and pain.

But Janeway didn’t have it in her. She could provide intellectual leadership and make the necessary decisions, but she didn’t have enough strength to offer emotional support. It was taking everything she had simply to keep herself together; she didn’t have anything left over.

So she just watched them, her own eyes dry and her heart dead in her chest.

“It’s a good thing that physics and engineering aren’t Lynne’s favorite topics,” she said after a moment. “Her own knowledge of the nanoscrubber technology is almost zero. The Queen will be aware of its existence, but she won’t know any details. We’ve still got a weapon, and we’re going to use it.”

She leaned forward. “I’ll work on modifying the Hansen’s multi-adaptive shielding. Even a small change might be enough. And we need a new method of camouflage once we’re on the ship itself. We can’t use the same technology we did last time.”

Last time, when I went back for you. The unspoken sentence hung in the air.

Seven straightened. “If you had left me with the Queen then, this would not have happened.”

“That’s an inefficient line of thought, Seven,” Janeway said. “We can’t waste any time on might-have-beens. And I would never have left you with her, so don’t even think it.”

“I won’t leave Lynne with her, either,” said Seven. “We’ll bring her back, Kathryn.”

Janeway couldn’t speak, so she simply nodded. Or die trying, she thought.

Revi stood up, wiping the tears from her face, and walked around the table. She stood in front of Janeway, who looked up at her. Then Revi reached out for her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” said Janeway through clenched teeth. She knew it sounded bad. She knew that Revi would interpret it as a personal condemnation. But she couldn’t explain. If she tried to tell Revi that the slightest physical comfort, the tiniest touch of human compassion would completely destroy her control, just the act of speaking of it would shatter her. So she stared straight ahead and let Revi draw her own damaging conclusions. She’d explain later. If they survived.

Revi drew back her hand. “I’ll start working on the antidote,” she whispered.

Janeway nodded, still not meeting her eyes. A moment later she heard the conference room doors open and close again. The silence settled on her, and she let her head drop back against the chair. Just a moment of peace, that’s all she needed to pull herself together before starting work on the engineering challenge of modifying the Delta Flyer’s shielding. And, of course, she needed to work out the strategies to outmaneuver the impossibly powerful opponent who was waiting for her.

But as soon as she closed her eyes she saw Lynne’s body stiffen as the assimilation tubules punctured her throat. Right in that spot where Janeway loved to kiss her and feel the pulse beneath her lips.

Her eyes flew open. No rest, then. Time to get to work.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 5

 

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate 54228.3. This will be my last official log as captain of the U.S.S. Voyager.

My crew has worked tirelessly to prepare for this mission. The transwarp coil has been installed on the Delta Flyer, and Lieutenant Torres even managed to ramp the power up somewhat. It will never power a larger ship again, which is the reason I can justify using it. I wish to god we had gotten closer to home before the Borg Queen knocked it out of commission, but I can’t argue with twelve thousand light years.

I pulled an old algorithm out of my Academy days and plugged it into the multi-adaptive shielding on the Flyer. That algorithm confused the hell out of my professor, as I recall, and he gave me a failing grade until I explained how it worked. I’m hoping that if it baffled Professor Huckins, it will baffle the Borg Queen. Huckins was an excellent mathematician; he just didn’t think the way a wildly untrained Academy cadet thought. I’ve got to go on instinct for this mission, even against my training. The Queen knows me, and she’ll be expecting me to act true to form. My only chance is to surprise her.

It took Doctor Sandovhar and the Doctor sixty-four hours to finish the nanoscrubber antidote. Doctor Sandovhar went well over her maximum time limit between regeneration cycles, and I had to order her to regenerate. I’ve put commendations in both her and the Doctor’s files for their accomplishment—they have fine-tuned a weapon and created a defense that may be of incalculable value to the Federation.

Dr. Sandovhar tested the antidote on herself and then inoculated Seven of Nine. I wish we could inoculate Lynne before we use the weapon, but that would give the Queen too much time to assimilate our antidote. We’ve only got one shot at this—so we’ll be up against the clock.

Both Doctor Sandovhar and Seven of Nine underwent surgery to have their neural transceivers physically deactivated. It takes away our advantage of their instant communication, but we can’t afford to have the Queen reading their thoughts. Everything about this mission depends on total surprise. Severing their connection has been difficult for them both, but they say they’re adapting.

Seven also came up with a frankly brilliant solution to the phase issue, considering the time restraints. It takes a hell of a lot of energy, though, so it’s not practical for travel at this point. But given time and some tweaking by Lieutenants Torres and Kim, I think it could be Voyager’s ticket home, though the slipstream drive looks like a real possibility as well. In the meantime, it gives both Voyager and the Delta Flyer a measure of protection against the new Borg weapon and transporter. It also gives us a means of transporting into a Borg ship, since I’ve no doubt they’ve adapted to the narrow beam transporter we used last time.

We’re as ready as we can be. There’s just one thing left to do—and it’s going to be the hardest of all.

 

“Come,” Janeway called. The ready room doors slid open, and Chakotay walked in.

“All set?” he asked, trying and failing to sound casual. Then his eyes fell on the line of four pips sitting on her desk. He lifted his gaze to her unadorned collar, then to her face. “No,” he said. “I won’t accept that.”

“Chakotay—”

“No,” he repeated. “You’re coming back. With Lynne, and Seven, and Revi. And we’ll take it from there.”

She sat back in her chair. “I’m sorry, Chakotay. But we both know my chances aren’t good. It would be an irresponsible act to leave Voyager hanging, waiting indefinitely for a captain who probably isn’t coming back. I sent my resignation to Starfleet in yesterday’s mail packet, so you’re too late to stop it. I also sent in your field promotion.” She picked up one of the pips and held it out to him. “Congratulations, Captain Chakotay.”

He stared at her, plainly unwilling, but unable to argue with her logic. He held his hand under hers and caught the pip as she dropped it.

“It’s just a placeholder,” he said. “Captain.”

She tried to summon up a smile, but couldn’t find it. “For what it’s worth, Chakotay, you can call me Kathryn.”

His mouth trembled. “It’s worth a lot.”

She nodded. “You’re a good man, Chakotay. And you’ll be a good captain. My final orders to you are to get this crew home. I know you’ll want to wait for us, but don’t wait too long.”

He said nothing, and she understood. Standing, she tapped her comm badge. “Janeway to Tuvok, will you come into my ready room, please?”

Tuvok didn’t answer, instead appearing at the door a second later. He stood next to Chakotay, stiff and formal.

Janeway spoke in a firm voice. “Computer, note in log. As of this time I am resigning both my commission in Starfleet and my rank as captain of the U.S.S. Voyager. In accordance with Starfleet regulations, Section E, Paragraph Twelve A, I hereby turn over my command and all of my command codes to Captain Chakotay. May he serve this vessel and her crew with the clear vision and unshakeable competence that he has shown in his years of excellent service to me. Janeway Phi two six three one three.”

“So noted.”

“Computer,” said Chakotay, “As of this time I accept command of the U.S.S. Voyager, under protest and only for the duration of time necessary until I can return it to its rightful holder, Captain Kathryn Janeway. Chakotay Theta eight one five eight nine.” Janeway shot him a glare, but he just looked at her solemnly, and she found that she couldn’t be angry. He was being true to his nature.

“So noted,” said the computer. “Witness, state your name and rank.”

“Commander Tuvok, Chief of Security, U.S.S. Voyager.” Tuvok’s voice was deep and calm. “The resignation of former Captain Kathryn Janeway and the acceptance of command by Captain Chakotay has been duly witnessed and observed to have taken place with proper protocols and without duress. Tuvok Kappa nine zero zero seven two.”

“Transfer of command is complete and logged.”

Janeway came out from behind her desk. “Take good care of her, Chakotay.” She walked out, across the bridge and straight into the turbolift. She saw some surprised faces as the doors closed, and knew her bridge crew had expected a formal goodbye. She hated to disappoint them, but she couldn’t stand there and give the speech they wanted. She couldn’t lie, and she sure as hell didn’t want to tell them the truth. So she would tell them nothing, and let her final text-only memo speak for her.

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven and Revi were waiting for her in the Delta Flyer. “Captain,” said Seven in greeting.

“Not anymore, Seven. Call me Kathryn.”

“Then who will command this mission?”

Janeway stopped for a moment. She hadn’t considered that. “I guess that would be Commander Sandovhar.”

“Not on your life,” said Revi. “I don’t give a tribble’s ass if you have resigned your commission; you’re the captain and you’re commanding this mission.”

Janeway looked from one to the other and saw unyielding stubbornness.

“All right,” she said. “Christ, a mutiny the moment I step on board.” She pushed past them to check the preflight readouts.

“We mutiny only when it’s in your best interests,” said Seven, and Janeway raised her head in surprise. Back in the bad old days of their constant battles, she had often told Seven that her orders or actions were in Seven’s best interests.

“Was that a joke?” she asked, turning around.

“Mutinies are not a joking matter,” said Seven, bending over her own console.

Janeway stared at her, but Seven seemed disinclined to look up. Shaking her head, Janeway resumed her preflight check. Everything looked good, but then she knew it would. Tom had already been through here, getting the ship ready. She sat down and hit the door control, listening to the door seal itself with a quiet hiss. Now she could relax, knowing that no other last minute goodbyes or emotional scenes could take place. She was locked in.

“Delta Flyer to Voyager. Request permission for launch.”

“Permission granted.” It was Chakotay’s voice. “Godspeed and good luck.”

“Thank you. We’ll take all of it. Janeway out.” The control board told her that the shuttle bay force field had been dropped, and she immediately lifted off, breathing a sigh of relief as they shot out into space. “Thank god,” she muttered.

“Captain?” Seven had heard her.

“Seven, please call me Kathryn. I’ll command the mission, but I don’t really want to hear that rank right now. I’m done with it. We’re going to warp; prepare for transwarp.” She set her course and watched the board. “Transwarp coil is on line. Engaging…now.” Even with her eyes closed she would have known the change in their speed just by the feel of the ship beneath her feet. They hurtled through space, the star streaks beginning to merge into continuous lines.

“Reaching terminal velocity,” she said, and a moment later they shot into the transwarp conduit that had carried Lynne away from her three very long days ago.

Hang on, Lynne. I’m coming.

Now the hard part began. She had to wait, making minor course adjustments while Seven scanned for the Queen’s cortical node frequency. They were following the ion signature of the Borg ships, but Janeway didn’t trust that as her only means of tracking.

As she stared at the green conduit walls flashing by, Revi came up to sit in the copilot’s chair.

“Here,” she said, holding out her hand.

“What is it?” Janeway picked up the tiny flat dot.

“An old Cardassian insurance policy.”

Janeway stared. “A poison patch?”

Revi nodded. “Seven and I both chose to wear one. I wanted you to have the option. Do what you want with it.” She started to get up, but Janeway caught her arm and pulled her back down.

“Revi, wait.”

Revi sat, looking apprehensive.

“I’m sorry,” Janeway said quietly. “I know I’ve given you the wrong impression, but please don’t think that I blame you in any way. I just can’t…” Her throat closed up, and she looked away, trying to will herself back under control.

Revi neither moved nor spoke, giving Janeway her space. Eventually Janeway could look at her again. “I can’t,” she said simply, trusting Revi to understand.

Revi nodded. “I know,” she said. Her brown eyes held both sympathy and sorrow, but she made no effort to convey it in any other way, for which Janeway was grateful. She turned back to her board, and Revi stayed in the chair, facing forward. Her quiet physical presence brought Janeway the first measure of comfort she’d felt since her nightmare had begun.

After checking her readouts, Janeway sat back and looked at the tiny dot in her palm. Intentional suicide—as opposed to giving one’s life while accomplishing a worthy objective—was something she had never once considered. Given the circumstances, however, it didn’t take her long to decide. Yes, she’d rather be dead than assimilated. She picked up the dot on the tip of one finger and carefully placed it on the top of a molar. It would remain there, attached by molecular adhesion, until she needed it. One quick, very hard bite and she’d be dead. She appreciated Revi’s foresight—she knew how little time they’d have to react if they were assimilated.

They traveled for two hours before Seven found what she’d been scanning for. The ion signature had led them in a great curve—sure enough, the Queen had doubled back. If they’d gone in the opposite direction to begin with, they would have encountered her ship almost immediately. As it was, Seven found her cortical node frequency ten light years from Voyager’s last location. They came out of transwarp and engaged the new multi-adaptive shielding, less than an eight-minute flight from their objective.

“Ten days from Voyager at warp six,” said Janeway, looking at the readout Seven had sent to her console. “We’re a week early; she shouldn’t be expecting us yet. Even if we’d maxed out the Flyer’s engines and located her instantly we wouldn’t have been here before tomorrow. Seven, bring the phased transporter on line.”

“The transporter is ready.”

“Good. Everyone got their Borg bands?”

“Yes,” said Revi. “They’ll see what we want them to see.”

While rescuing Seven from the Borg Queen two years ago, Janeway and Tuvok had used an armband camouflage device invented by Seven’s parents. It operated by projecting a biosignature that emulated the environment of a Borg ship, making them blend in. Revi’s idea had been to modify the device to project a different biosignature, combined with a cybernetic one. Instead of blending into the background, they would look to Borg sensors as three more drones, complete with unique cortical implant frequencies. It was ingenious, and nobody but Revi could have accomplished it. These Borg bands, as Revi had named them, had given Janeway more latitude in her planning, and in the end she’d decided on the simplest plan of all.

The Queen’s ship was only going warp three, and when they pulled in behind it they understood why. It was heavily damaged, and appeared to have gone through a hellacious battle. The cube was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m not buying this,” muttered Janeway. The alarm bells in her brain were ringing insistently. She matched their speed and scanned with every sensor that she felt was safe to use, but found nothing except a single damaged Borg ship.

“Seven, will you come up here?” she asked.

Seven walked up to stand behind Revi. “My sensor sweep also revealed no other ships.”

“Try one more. This time with your optical implant. Look for anything…out of phase.”

The ship was silent for several minutes as Seven looked out the viewport. As a means of locating ships in space, a visual scan was normally worse than useless. But in this case, Janeway’s instincts were dead on. Seven’s sudden intake of breath was quite audible.

“I see them. My implant had to adjust to the new visual parameters. Kathryn, there are eighteen cubes around the Queen’s ship.”

Janeway smiled grimly. “I guess I should feel honored that she’s set her trap even before she could reasonably expect me. What do you think she’d need eighteen cubes for?”

“I don’t know. One would be more than sufficient to destroy either the Delta Flyer or Voyager.”

“If my transceiver hadn’t been deactivated, I could tell where those cubes came from,” said Revi. “But I have my suspicions.”

“So do I,” said Janeway. “They’re from all over. This is her trap, designed to draw us in with our guard down. The Queen’s assuming that my…emotional weakness will lessen my caution; that I’ll see a single damaged ship and move in to take advantage of the situation. Take the captain first, then take the ship and crew. She’s planning to divide up Voyager’s crew and scatter them to the four corners of the galaxy. I’ve no doubt I’d be on her ship, getting an up close and personal view of the complete destruction of everything I’ve worked for. And you, Seven, would be right there with me. So I could watch her reprogram you into betraying your race.”

“She attempted that once without success,” said Seven. “I don’t believe she would repeat her efforts.”

“I do. You represent her greatest failure. She won’t try the same method, but she won’t accept anything less than your complete submission to her will. And I think she’s got enough ‘inefficient’ emotion left in her to enjoy having an audience, especially the same audience who took you away from her twice. I seem to have earned a special distinction—she certainly enjoyed having me watch her assimilate Lynne.” Janeway savagely forced down the memory. “We’re going to have to take out every one of these or Voyager will still be a target.”

“So will the Federation,” said Revi. Both Janeway and Seven looked at her. She shrugged. “Don’t you think it’s likely that’s an invasion force? I don’t doubt that she plans to scatter everyone all over, Kathryn, but if she’s drawn us here for the purpose of getting Seven to finish that assimilation virus, then maybe she’s got another use for these ships before she sends them to the four corners of the galaxy.”

“A single cube wiped out the entire fleet at Wolf 359,” said Janeway. “Jesus Christ, eighteen cubes…” She shook her head. “We’ve got to destroy them.”

“The destruction of the queen’s ship will accomplish that,” said Seven.

“How?” asked Janeway in surprise. “The nanoscrubbers will only affect the drones and systems on one ship at a time.”

“Because,” said Seven, “the other cubes are all well within range to be affected by a transwarp explosion. They appear to be connected in a network. I believe they’re boosting each other’s power in order to maintain the phase effect.”

Revi nodded. “Our original plan will still work.”

“Though our window of escape just got a lot smaller. One explosion is one thing, but nineteen is something altogether different.” Janeway considered her options. It didn’t take long.

“All right, let’s get started,” she said. Seven returned to her console, and together they scanned for their targets.

“Unbelievable,” said Janeway a moment later. “There are nine human life signs on that ship.”

“Where?” asked Revi.

“All over.” Janeway pointed, and Revi shook her head.

“No. She kept Seven in her own chamber. Based on what you said about Lynne being a trophy, I think she’d do the same with her. She’ll want her close by for now.”

“I agree. She’s wherever the Queen is. The rest must be sensor ghosts, meant to distract me and divide up any away team I bring with me.”

“Then we ignore the others?”

And there was the big question. The whole operation depended on split-second timing. Someone had to be physically near Lynne when the nanoscrubbers were released, or she’d die right along with the rest of the drones. If Janeway guessed wrong, she herself was sentencing Lynne to death.

“We ignore them,” she said firmly. “Seven, I’m sending back my findings. Do you have the Queen?”

“Yes.” Revi and Janeway joined Seven at her console, looking at the dot that represented the Queen. It coincided with one of the human life signs.

“That’s her. Let’s go,” said Janeway. They activated their armbands and gathered their gear. Seven picked up her modified phaser rifle, while Janeway pocketed her hypospray. Each of them also wore a tracking device that was tied into the Delta Flyer’s computer, allowing the ship to beam them out at the touch of a button. There would be no communication once they were on the ship. Janeway was taking no chances.

Seven and Revi stood together on the transporter platform. Janeway moved to the transporter control, set the coordinates, and hesitated.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.”

“Thank us later,” said Revi.

“I believe that tiramisu and hot chocolate would be an appropriate way to express gratitude,” said Seven.

“You’re a cheap date.” Janeway wanted to hug them both. Instead, she nodded her farewell and sent them to the Queen’s ship. As soon as the beamout was confirmed, she punched in the new coordinates and stepped on the platform.

“Computer, activate transporter.”

 

 

-----

 

 

She materialized in the chamber next to the Queen’s. She was confident that her armband would fool drones, but the Queen was no drone. So she’d keep a low profile until Seven and Revi accomplished their task—and then she’d have seconds in which to do hers.

Waiting was the hardest part, but Janeway found that for once, she was in no hurry. These could very well be the last few minutes of her life, and she chose not to spend them wishing they’d go faster. Instead, she looked around, watching drones going about their business, while in her imagination she was with Seven and Revi.

Their job was actually fairly simple, though extremely dangerous. They were to proceed to the ship’s central power source, where Revi would assimilate the controls to the primary induction chamber and momentarily take it off line. Backups would take over almost instantly, but in that quarter-second of time before they did, Seven would fire a fatal load of nanoscrubbers into it. The tiny robots would be unaffected by the energy in the chamber, and since nearly every square centimeter of a Borg ship depended on power being fed to it, they would be efficiently delivered throughout the entire ship in seconds. Seven had calculated that sufficient cybernetic failure to collapse all power containment systems, including the automatic redundancies, would take approximately forty seconds. Which was how much time Janeway had to get to the next chamber, take out the Queen, get the antidote into Lynne, and beam them both out.

She knew the Queen was expecting a more open challenge. The sensor ghosts were created not only to divide up an away team, but to force Janeway to choose one in particular. The Queen would know that of those nine signs, Janeway would personally check out the one in the Queen’s own chamber. It was a safe bet that the other eight signs were booby trapped, and any approach toward them would warn the Queen to expect Janeway.

What waited in that chamber, Janeway knew, was a trap designed specifically for her. A trap that no doubt involved a series of power plays ending with her forced submission to the Queen—after the agony of seeing her wife as an unfeeling drone. Based on what she knew of the Queen, she suspected that Lynne would be assigned to do her actual assimilation as a final, ironic blow. Despite her own near lack of emotions, the Queen certainly knew how to use them to gain her objectives. She’d already hurt Janeway in the most painful way possible, thereby guaranteeing that Janeway would come storming into her web. She was probably very much looking forward to this confrontation, confident that it would be their last.

But she was about to get an unpleasant surprise. Janeway had no intention of playing by her rules.

A power flux, barely noticeable, momentarily dimmed the lights and dampened the hum of machinery.

Janeway took off running. The countdown had begun; in the next forty seconds she would either defeat the Queen, or die alongside Lynne.

She flew through the archway into the next chamber at full speed, finding her goal in an instant. The Queen saw her in almost the same moment, her eyes widening in disbelief. A personal shield shimmered in place around her, which Janeway had fully expected—Lynne had known that the delivery device for the nanoscrubbers was a phaser rifle. So Janeway was utilizing a different delivery device. A very low-tech one.

At least a dozen drones were closing in on her, and she reflected that there was, after all, one nice thing about Borg drones: they never ran. She easily dodged them all, looking for Lynne among them but not seeing her. Then she refocused on her target, who was looking at her with a calm, smug expression. Obviously the Queen was certain that Janeway didn’t pose any physical danger.

As soon as she was close enough she pulled out her dagger and threw herself into a headfirst slide. Before the surprised Queen could move, Janeway slid right into her, using her momentum to lend force to her blow as she punctured the Queen’s boot with the knife. She knew from prior experience with the Borg that their personal shielding did not extend to non-essential areas. It would be inefficient. And what was less essential than a boot?

But the boot, like every other part of the exoplating, had cybernetic components. And the tip of Janeway’s knife housed a teeming horde of nanoscrubbers, which even now were eating away at the bounty they’d been introduced to.

The Queen’s personal shield failed a moment later, and Janeway scrambled to her feet, a second dagger in her hand. She ducked a blow that would have knocked her across the chamber, then pulled her head back just in time to miss the assimilation tubules that were reaching out for her from the other arm. But the Queen’s movements weren’t as quick as they should have been. The nanoscrubbers were doing their job, and Janeway saw the opening she needed. Stepping within the range of lethal cybernetic arms, she buried her dagger deep into the Queen’s unprotected throat.

“Assimilate this, you bitch,” she growled, pushing the knife further in and looking straight into those glinting eyes. She desperately wanted to watch the death of this…thing that had dared to hurt Lynne, but there was no time. She let go of the knife and threw herself to one side, ducking another killing blow. Then she ran around behind the Queen and shoved her body in the direction of the oncoming drones, which effectively stopped all but three of them. The others caught their Queen and began attempting repairs. Apparently Janeway had just become a lower priority.

She backed away from the three drones approaching her, trying to keep one eye on them while searching frantically for Lynne with the other. She almost didn’t recognize her when she saw the drone regenerating in the alcove at the end of the chamber. Lynne was bald, covered with exoplating and implants, and had a cybernetic arm.

Her hypospray contained both the antidote and a heavy sedative designed by Revi; Janeway had expected that Lynne would be aggressive. Her first thought upon seeing Lynne regenerating was one of relief—she wouldn’t have to fight her. Her second thought almost dropped her in her tracks.

She’s connected to the power source. Oh, god, we’re killing her.

Pulling out her phaser, she fired at one of the drones and was unsurprised when it barely paused in its movements. During their last encounter with the Borg, their phasers had been almost useless; it was another reason why she hadn’t wasted any time trying to shoot the Queen. They were now fully adapted. She scanned the ceiling and immediately targeted the joint of a large support structure, taking it out with one shot. It collapsed to the floor, along with a heavy load of beams, conduits and equipment. The drones were buried. She knew they’d dig out soon, but she planned to be long gone by then.

She sprinted to Lynne’s alcove and punched in the command to end the regeneration cycle, praying that the system hadn’t yet been compromised so badly that it wouldn’t accept input. The familiar sound of the cycle shutting down was the best thing she’d ever heard, and in the next moment Lynne toppled forward. Janeway tried to catch her, but Lynne’s dead weight took them both to the floor.

Frantically she freed herself from beneath Lynne’s body and injected her with the antidote, noting at the same time that the black veins were turning translucent. She slapped a transporter tracker on the exoplating and hit both it and her own, then wrapped her arms around her wife.

Please, Lynne, hold on just a little longer.

As the transporter took them away, she turned her head to see the Queen writhing on the floor, her cybernetic perfection betraying her as it went into a cascade failure. It was, she thought savagely, a beautiful sight.

Revi was waiting for her at the transporter platform, and Seven was at the controls. “Seven, go!” Revi shouted the moment the transport was complete. Janeway felt the familiar vibrations as the ship leapt into warp, but in the next second she, Lynne and Revi were thrown into the air as the Delta Flyer was hit by a massive shock wave. The Queen’s ship had lost containment, and the transwarp explosion took out the other eighteen cubes moments later. The shock wave, Janeway knew, would radiate out over several light-seconds. And they were only one or two light-seconds away.

Seven did her best, but it must have been like trying to steer a leaf through a waterfall. Janeway held onto Lynne as they both slammed into the bulkheads, the ceiling and the deck. When the ship finally leveled out, she was pinned beneath Lynne and hurting in a dozen places. Keeping her arms around Lynne had been instinctive, but the fact was that Lynne weighed a great deal more with her Borg implants, and her exoplating was just as hard as the ship’s bulkheads. Her body had probably injured Janeway just as much as the other impacts.

“Revi,” she gasped. “Revi!”

“I’m here.” Revi crawled up to her, looking considerably the worse for wear, but not as bad as Janeway felt. “Don’t move, Kathryn. You’re injured.”

No shit. But that was the least of her worries. “She was regenerating. I didn’t get the antidote to her in time.”

“Oh, no.” Revi pulled out her tricorder and ran it over Lynne’s body. “Seven!”

Seven was kneeling beside them in an instant. “Help me,” said Revi quietly. Together they lifted Lynne off Janeway and took her into the aft compartment. Janeway tried to get up and follow, but a searing pain through her midsection told her that wasn’t a good idea. She put her arm over her eyes and waited, the adrenaline drain making her body tremble. The iron hold she’d had on her emotions was slipping at last.

Minutes or maybe hours later, she felt the cool sensation of a hypospray at her neck. Shakily she lifted her arm and looked at Revi. “How is she?”

“She’s in stasis,” said Revi. “I can’t stop the cybernetic failure here, Kathryn. We need to get her back to Voyager. But I think she’ll be okay.”

“You think?” Janeway’s voice was harsh.

“Do you want me to lie to you?” Revi’s usual calm was a little ragged as well.

Closing her eyes, Janeway shook her head slightly. “No.” She paused. “I’m sorry. I had a really bad day at work.”

Revi made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “Gods, didn’t we all.” She began working on Janeway’s injuries.

“What’s the status of the Flyer?”

“Seven’s assessing it now. Just relax, Kathryn, there’s nothing you can do right now. Let me take care of you for once.”

Janeway nearly lost it at that. She wanted to be taken care of, god, she’d wanted nothing more than that for the last three agonizing days. But the only person who could help her was lying in stasis right now. She couldn’t stop, she had to keep going; Lynne still needed her. She couldn’t afford to relax. It wasn’t over.

“Kathryn, whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop it. You’re winding yourself up tighter than a plasma coil. If you don’t let go I’m going to sedate you.”

Jolted out of her spiraling thoughts, Janeway opened her eyes. “I can’t let go.”

Revi looked at her. “Yes, you can. You have to.” In a completely uncharacteristic move, she gently ran the fingers of her human hand through Janeway’s hair. “Let go,” she said quietly. “It’s just us.”

The gentle, reassuring gesture undid Janeway just as she’d known it would, when she’d warned Revi not to touch her in the conference room.

“Damn you,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly against the rising tide of tears.

Revi said nothing, but kept up her gentle stroking. And Janeway gave up. She just didn’t have the strength to stop it. Covering her face with her hands, she let go of her terror and her pain; yet even now she couldn’t relinquish total control. Not here; not with Revi and Seven. She made no sound at all, no longer fighting the tears but restricting herself to convulsive, shuddering breaths as the release came in the only way she could allow it. Kathryn Janeway might weep in front of crewmembers, but she would never sob.

Through it all she was aware of Revi’s soothing touch never stopping, never slowing, providing a lifeline that she clung to in desperation. It seemed as if, right now, that physical connection was the only human thing about her. And it kept up long after the tears had stopped, long after she’d lowered her hands and let her body relax into a near-stupor.

At last she found the strength to speak again.

“I’m okay.”

“I know.” Revi ran her hand through her hair two, three more times; then rested it on her upper chest. “Are you ready to sit up?”

Janeway opened her eyes. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to move.”

The smile on Revi’s face was impossibly warm, given their circumstances. “You think I can’t multitask?”

Janeway pulled herself into a sitting position, realizing that her injuries had been healed. She looked toward the front and saw Seven’s long legs protruding from beneath the console. She’d given them as much privacy as she could, while being productive at the same time. Janeway loved her for the consideration.

“Thank you,” she said. “Both of you. I know how difficult this has been for you, and I haven’t made it any easier.”

“Kathryn, you’ve been holding yourself together under impossible circumstances that would have crushed most people. But you’re not most people, thank the gods. And that’s why we’re here, alive, and Lynne’s here, alive, and there are nineteen destroyed Borg ships floating out there in pieces.”

“And one dead Borg Queen,” Janeway added, remembering the sight that had fed her ravenous need for vengeance.

Seven pulled herself out from the console and came over. “Did you see her die?”

“I planted that dagger in her throat as far as it would go,” said Janeway. “I looked in her eyes and saw them go dim. And I saw her convulsing on the floor right before we beamed out. Do you think that’s close enough?”

“It’s close enough for me,” said Revi. Seven nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, Kathryn,” she said. “I know you did that for Lynne, but you’ve freed Revi and me as well. I feel…lighter.”

Janeway stared. She hadn’t thought about how much fear Revi and Seven must have been feeling, knowing that the Queen wanted them and was willing to expend considerable resources in acquiring them. She’d been too focused on what had to be done.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

They set about repairing the damage to the Delta Flyer. While Janeway had been…indisposed, Seven had done the assessment. There wasn’t a lot of good news. The transwarp coil was toast, as was their warp drive and their communications. Impulse power could be restored, so at least they weren’t dead in space—but at that speed they were almost forty years from Voyager’s last location. Seven’s primary goal had been to stabilize life support.

“Did you launch a distress beacon?” asked Janeway.

“Yes.”

“Good. Voyager will certainly have detected that explosion, and if I know Chakotay, he’s already on his way. We’ll restore impulse and meet them.”

More than anything, Janeway wanted to see Lynne, but she couldn’t, not just yet. Lynne was sealed in a stasis tube and going nowhere, and there was a lot of work to be done. It wasn’t until five hours later, when they’d restored impulse and were back on course, that she allowed herself to walk back.

It was hard to look at her. Her beautiful face was mottled and marred by implants, and all of her glorious hair was gone. Janeway supposed she shouldn’t care about these things, but they were things that she loved, that made her happy every time she looked at Lynne or ran her hands through her hair.

They’re also things that she’ll have back in no time, she reminded herself. Unlike her arm.

She’d already asked Revi, hoping against hope that the arm was simply an exoskeletal shell over her human one. But Revi had shaken her head. Janeway knew that Lynne was going to be devastated. Her body was a tool to her, one that she kept honed to a fine edge. To lose part of it was going to hit her very hard.

“At least she didn’t take your eyes, sweetheart,” she murmured. There was no optical implant, no black eyepiece. She wondered if the Queen had found those green eyes interesting enough to keep intact. How inefficient would that be? But the Queen had definitely shown at least a few inefficiencies—that look of total triumph when she’d assimilated Lynne came to mind. Now Janeway had a second expression with which to counter that memory:  the look of shock when she’d realized that Janeway hadn’t taken the bait, hadn’t played the game. And the dimming light in her eyes as her perfection was destroyed.

“She didn’t know what perfection was,” Janeway said quietly, gazing at Lynne’s still face. “She had it in her hands and she didn’t know. But I do.” She rested her hands on top of the stasis tube—the closest she could come to touching the woman she loved—and whispered, “There are none so blind as those who will not see.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 6

 

 

Voyager came for them in two days, which meant Chakotay had been flogging the engines at warp nine. Janeway couldn’t find it in her heart to say a word. She followed Lynne’s stasis tube into sickbay and settled in for her vigil. Lynne was not leaving her sight until she was totally, completely and without question out of danger. Revi didn’t even try to get her to go home.

Chakotay came in shortly after the operation began and attempted to return command of the ship, but Janeway forestalled him.

“I don’t want it,” she said. He looked stunned. “I mean I don’t want it right now. She needs me, Chakotay. More than Voyager does. And I need some recovery time as well. Neither of us will get what we need if I retake command. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit this out for a little while.”

“How long?” he asked.

She looked toward the biobed, where both doctors were bent over Lynne’s unmoving form.

“As long as it takes.”

 

 

-----

 

 

The operation took far longer than anyone expected. Revi and the Doctor were racing the clock, removing implants and cybernetic attachments as they disintegrated. Every time they thought they were ahead, another implant would begin breaking down. The antidote was working, but the nanoscrubbers had a head start. The biggest concern, Janeway knew, was Lynne’s cortical implant. If the nanoscrubbers got to it before the antidote took full effect, there would be nothing either doctor could do. Lynne would die. Revi was working feverishly at Lynne’s head, building chemical and cybernetic blockades and reinforcing the implant every way she could think of while the Doctor was working equally hard on the rest of her body. Janeway watched, unable to tear herself away. It was B’Elanna who thought to bring her some food and drink.

“It’s good to have you back, Captain,” she said quietly.

“Kathryn,” Janeway corrected. “I’m not your captain right now.”

“So I heard. How is she?”

“I don’t know. Dying, maybe. Or living. Not even Revi or the Doctor know right now.”

B’Elanna looked at her with a strange expression on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again.

“Don’t worry about it, B’Elanna.”

“What?”

“You’re feeling guilty. There’s no need.”

“How did you know that?”

Janeway turned away from her, resuming her vigil. “Because I know a lot about guilt. Having Tom along would have made no difference at all.”

B’Elanna stood beside her, watching the operation in silence for several minutes. At last she turned to go. “Thank you…Kathryn.”

Janeway met her eyes. “You’re welcome. Thanks for coming by. I’ll tell her you were here.”

B’Elanna nodded. “Tell her to call me and we’ll discuss transwarp theory.”

“She’ll never—” Janeway stopped. “Jesus.” She hadn’t thought about that. All she’d been thinking of was her medical condition.

“Yeah, she’s going to be a walking database now. I’ll have to find something new to tease her about. At least she’ll never be as big a pain in the ass with it as Seven used to be.” B’Elanna stood there a few seconds longer, then said goodbye and quietly left, seemingly unaware of the bomb she’d tossed in Janeway’s lap.

Janeway looked back at the biobed, a moment of sheer panic washing through her.

How much of her is still in there?

 

 

-----

 

 

After the surgery, Revi went to her alcove for three hours of much-needed regeneration. When she returned to find Janeway still sitting in sickbay, she put her foot down.

“You need to get some sleep, Kathryn.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fine, then sleep here.” And to Revi’s obvious surprise, Janeway agreed.

Revi assigned her an unoccupied biobed, draping a blanket over her and dimming the lights in that part of the room. Janeway stared at the ceiling, too tired to sleep and too tired to stay awake. The surgery had been eleven hours of pure torture, but Lynne was stabilized and would be all right. They’d removed eighty-nine percent of her implants, including—thank god—the ones on her face. But the arm hadn’t been affected, and Revi had refused to take it off despite Janeway’s request.

“She’s going to go absolutely ballistic. You have to take it off.”

“Kathryn, her body has already been through hell twice over. I think her extremely good physical health gave her the edge she needed. But it won’t take much to push her past it, and something as invasive as removing that arm would be more than enough.”

Janeway turned her head, watching Lynne in the biobed next to her. Revi had also refused to stimulate her hair growth, telling her that it had zero medical importance and the energy it would require from Lynne’s body was too much right now. Part of Janeway couldn’t wait for Lynne to wake up, to open those green eyes and smile at her. And part of her hoped she wouldn’t wake up for days, until her ravaged body had recovered and she could go through life never knowing the full extent of what the Queen had done to her.

Lynne’s eyelids twitched, and a tiny sound came from her throat. Janeway was wide awake in an instant, throwing off her blanket and standing beside her wife. She couldn’t possibly be having a nightmare now, could she? Revi had said she probably wouldn’t wake for another eight to ten hours. Surely she had to be in a near-coma.

“Shhh,” she whispered, trailing her fingertips over the parts of Lynne’s face that she could touch. Where the implants had been removed, new skin was still growing. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

She heard footsteps, and Revi came up beside her. “Revi, is she having a nightmare?”

Revi looked over the bioreadings. “Could be. If she is, she’s closer to the surface than I thought.” She watched as Janeway continued to stroke Lynne’s face. “You’re doing all the right things, Kathryn.”

Janeway looked up, grateful for the reassurance. “I feel like I don’t know what the hell to do.”

“Yes, you do. Follow your instincts. They’re good.”

“Not always.”

“Nobody bats a thousand,” said Revi. “But you’re closer than most mortals.”

“She said perfection couldn’t be destroyed,” said Janeway, watching for any movement in Lynne’s eyelids. They seemed to be still again. “But she did her damnedest, didn’t she?”

It took Revi a moment to catch up to her train of thought. “Can I tell Lynne you said she was perfection?” Janeway could hear the smile in her voice.

“You can tell her anything you want. As long as she’s awake to hear it.” Carefully, Janeway pulled her hand away. Lynne didn’t respond in any way, so she stepped back.

Revi squeezed her shoulder. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”

“Goodnight.” She got back on the biobed and pulled up the blanket.

 

 

-----

 

 

It wasn’t a good night; she kept waking up, thinking she could hear Lynne, but every time she looked nothing had changed. Somewhere around 0400 she fell into an exhausted sleep, from which she was shaken awake seemingly minutes later.

“What?” she said, sitting up before her brain even fully engaged itself. She rubbed her eyes. “Is she okay?”

“She’s coming around,” said Revi. “I thought you might want to be awake for it.”

Janeway jumped off the biobed. “What time is it?”

“Oh nine thirty.”

“God, I feel like I just fell asleep.” Janeway looked carefully at Lynne’s face, noting the changes that had already occurred.

“You’ve been out like a rock for over five hours. I’ve been watching you.”

Surprised, Janeway looked up. “I’m not your patient.”

“You’re in my sickbay, aren’t you?”

Janeway almost smiled at that, but a twitch from Lynne drew her attention back to her wife. “Her face looks so much better already.”

“The skin growth is almost complete. You’ll never know looking at her from the shoulders up.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s going to make her feel the slightest bit fortunate.” Janeway looked at the black cybernetic arm resting on top of the covers. “Have you given any more thought to removing yours?”

“Yes. But every time I start thinking about it seriously, something happens. I honestly don’t think I could have saved Lynne’s cortical implant without it. Maybe I’ll trade it in for a human prosthetic the day we cross into the Alpha Quadrant. And maybe I won’t. I’ve kind of gotten used to it.”

“I’m really glad to hear that, Revi. That you’ve gotten used to it, I mean.” She looked up, the thought just occurring to her. “Did you and Seven reactivate your transceivers?”

Revi shook her head. “No time.” Her eyes went to Lynne. “Look.”

Lynne’s throat was working, and a moment later her eyelids fluttered open. She looked at Janeway with no recognition in her eyes.

“Lynne?”

“Shh,” said Revi in a low voice. “Just give her a few minutes. It’s going to be a little slower than you’re used to. Let her go her own pace.”

Janeway nodded, her throat tightening. Oh, god, her eyes were as green as ever. With all of the other changes, she’d wondered if that would be different as well. She reached out and carefully began stroking Lynne’s jawline, watching as her eyes shut again, then reopened half a minute later. This time there was recognition.

“Kathryn?”

Janeway stifled a sob. “I’m here. You’re safe, Lynne.”

“You came.” It was barely a sigh.

“I would never have left you.”

Lynne said nothing for several minutes, just watching her silently. Then:  “I’m sorry.”

Janeway’s throat closed on her words, but she forced them out. “Oh, sweetheart, whatever for?”

“I couldn’t stop her.”

“Lynne, nobody could have.”

Lynne closed her eyes. “They took my ring. It was the only thing I had left of you.”

“It’s all right. I’ll get you a new one. And when this is all over, we’ll go to our engagement mountain and I’ll put it back on your finger. Okay?”

There was no answer, and Revi put a hand on Janeway’s shoulder. “She’s gone back to sleep, Kathryn. That’s perfectly normal. She’ll probably be out for another several hours. Why don’t you go home and get cleaned up?”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“I’m not suggesting you should.” Revi’s voice was gentle. “I’m just suggesting that you take a few minutes to shower, change your clothes, and get something to eat. She’ll be here. So will I. She’s not going to get worse, Kathryn, only better. So go spend just a little bit of time taking care of yourself, and you’ll be that much more able to take care of her.”

Janeway looked up sharply, but relaxed when she saw the understanding in Revi’s eyes. She turned back to Lynne, watching the rhythmic motion of her breathing. “All right,” she said. “But if anything changes, call me immediately.”

“Of course.”

Reluctantly, Janeway left the sickbay for the first time since she’d come back to Voyager. She nodded at the crewmembers who passed her, willing them to not stop and try to talk to her. Apparently her body language warned them off quite effectively. She reached her quarters and stepped inside, breathing a great sigh of relief. It felt like years since she’d walked out of here to prepare for their third transwarp jump, leaving Lynne sitting at the table in her tank top and baggy pants. With her body free of implants; her graceful, long-fingered hands holding a cup of tea; her thick brown and silver hair cascading over her shoulders…

Stop it. She shook her head. She’ll be that way again.

Sure, with a few slight alterations.

Different doesn’t mean worse.

Kind of depends on your point of view, doesn’t it?

“I’m getting nowhere,” she muttered. “Come on, Katie, get a hold of yourself.”

The shower was heaven, and she ended up taking a much longer one than she’d anticipated. The hot water leached the strength out of her muscles, and she could barely stay upright long enough to dry her hair before stumbling into the bed. Just a few minutes of rest would do her a world of good.

When she woke up, it was nearly 1330. She rolled out of bed and rushed into the living room, checking her terminal for messages. Nothing. Breathing more easily, she went looking for her comm badge and found it still attached to a very dirty uniform jacket which was lying on the floor. She tossed the jacket and the rest of the pile into the recycler. When they were done she started to put them on, then remembered. She wasn’t captain anymore.

She hung the uniform in the closet and dressed in comfortable pants and a long-sleeved, open-necked shirt. Attaching the comm badge, she gave it a quick tap. “Janeway to Sandovhar.”

“She hasn’t so much as twitched, Kathryn. But if you want to come down, I’m just settling into a nice lunch. Join me?”

“I’ll be right there.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Once again Janeway stood beside Lynne’s biobed, waiting. Revi had set a program to notify her when Lynne’s bioreadings indicated a return to consciousness, and it had activated during their lunch. They’d both dropped their plates and run out.

Lynne’s face looked normal again. Earlier this morning the new skin had shone white against the tan she’d acquired on Alsea, but Revi had done a little melanin therapy to match the tones. She told Janeway that in situations like this one, patient recovery could be greatly affected by the smaller details. And since the melanin therapy took almost no energy, she’d gladly done it.

As they watched, Lynne’s eyes opened and she looked at them, her gaze far clearer than it had been in the morning.

“Hi,” she said, her voice raspy.

“Hi yourself,” said Janeway. The smile on her face felt foreign. “It’s good to see you awake.”

Lynne studied her for several seconds before her own lips curved in a smile. “It’s good to see you, period. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days. Not that there was much competition.” Suddenly her eyes widened in fear. “Kathryn! The Queen! Where—”

“She’s dead,” said Janeway firmly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” At Lynne’s disbelieving look, she added, “I killed her.”

“You killed the Queen?” Lynne closed her eyes. “Thank god,” she whispered.

The pain in that whisper made Janeway wish she could kill the Queen a few more times, just for good measure. It was obvious that the assimilation wasn’t the only way she’d hurt Lynne.

“She had plans for you,” Lynne said quietly, her eyes still closed. “She was in my head all the time, tearing apart my memories, looking for every detail about you. I couldn’t stop her. I tried, Kathryn, I really tried.” A tear slipped out from under her eyelid, and Janeway gently swiped it away, following it up with a kiss to her cheek.

“I know you did, sweetheart.” She understood now what Lynne had been trying to say that morning. She’d assumed Lynne was apologizing about not being able to stop the Queen from assimilating her, but this was much worse. Lynne felt guilty about not being able to prevent the rape of her mind.

“Nobody could have stopped her,” she continued, caressing Lynne’s face. “And I took that into consideration. I knew the Queen would know everything you did, so I just had to make sure I acted in a manner that you wouldn’t expect.”

Lynne opened her eyes. “What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you all the details when you’re feeling a little better,” said Janeway, but the reality was she hadn’t figured out what to say yet. She’d known that Lynne, and therefore the Queen, had expected her to make the rescue of her wife her top priority. So she’d gone completely against her nature. In a desperate gamble, she’d made the destruction of the Queen’s ship her first priority and the death of the Queen her second. Seven had told her that, although drones had near-instant communication with each other, their communication was filtered through the Queen, who acted as a central information processor. Her communication was instant throughout the entire Collective. Therefore, she had to be killed in order to prevent any possible communication with the rest of the Collective about the nanoscrubbers, and also to cut her out of the hive mind. It was Janeway’s hope that the Queen’s death would set the Collective back, at least for a little while.

Rescuing Lynne had been the third and last priority—which was why she’d nearly died from the nanoscrubber weapon. And that little fact was a secret Janeway planned to take to her grave. She could never allow Lynne to know the truth.

Revi stepped around her to check the bioreadings, then pulled out a medical tricorder and ran it over her patient.

“You’re doing great,” she told Lynne. “I’m really pleased with your recovery.”

Lynne stared at her solemnly. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Live that way?”

Revi put down her tricorder. “I didn’t. It wasn’t living.”

Lynne nodded. “I thought I’d go insane from the voices. So many of them, never ending. I don’t do crowds very well. But the Queen was by far the worst. She wouldn’t leave me alone.” The skin on her newly-healed cheek twitched and she raised her hand to scratch it, then froze when she saw the cybernetic arm hovering in front of her face.

“I couldn’t take it off yet,” said Revi gently. “Your body’s been through too much trauma already. We can deal with that later.”

Lynne hadn’t taken her eyes off the arm. “But my arm’s still in here, right?” The clamp on the end opened and shut several times. “It has to be, I can still move my fingers.”

Revi swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Lynne. That’s a full cybernetic attachment. But when we replace it with a prosthesis you’ll hardly be able to tell. You’ll still have a sense of touch, and—”

“No,” said Lynne adamantly. “I don’t believe you. I can feel my fingers. Take it off, Revi.”

“Lynne, I know it’s hard, but—”

“No!” Lynne looked at Janeway. “Tell her, Kathryn.”

Janeway deliberately reached out to grasp the cybernetic arm. “She’s telling you the truth. I’m sorry.”

Lynne’s eyes dropped to Janeway’s hand, which stood out starkly against the black arm. None of them said anything for what seemed like several minutes, and when Lynne finally broke the silence, her voice was very small.

“Am I a monster?”

Janeway shifted her hand to Lynne’s face. “Oh, sweetheart, of course you’re not. You’re a little worse for wear, but you’ll be back to making everyone on this ship envious of me in no time.” She tried to nudge Lynne’s chin up and met considerable resistance.

“Lynne,” said Revi, “do you think I’m a monster?”

That brought Lynne’s head up. “No, I—” She stopped.

“Then you’re not one, either. You have far fewer implants than I do.”

“Where are they?” asked Lynne. “I mean, what do I look like?”

“Most of your implants are internal,” Revi began. “They’re too deeply imbedded in your organs and your skeletal structure for me to remove them, and they’re actually a lot more efficient than fully biological systems so I wasn’t too worried about leaving them. In fact, I wish we could have left more implants than we did, because pulling them out was very hard on your body. On the outside, you’ve got an implant on your upper left chest, which regulates your heart; one on the back of your right shoulder which is tied into your cybernetic arm; and one on each leg that gave you the structural stability to handle the extra weight and strength requirements of your exoplating.”

“So the only parts of me that are still really me are my head and my left arm,” said Lynne. “That’s just wonderful.”

Janeway looked at Revi. Didn’t Lynne know she had a cortical implant?

For just a moment as their eyes met, Revi looked completely miserable, but a second later her professional mask came down and she turned back to Lynne.

“There’s one more thing,” she said gently. “You’re not aware of it yet because of what I had to do to save you, but it’s going to wear off before the day’s over. You have a cortical implant, Lynne, just like Seven and me. You hold the knowledge of the Collective in your head. In about ten hours your nanoprobes will complete the repairs that I left for them and you’ll have full awareness.”

Lynne stared at her disbelievingly. “I have a cortical implant? And nanoprobes? Am I even human anymore?”

“Of course you—”

“I’m going to have to regenerate, aren’t I?” interrupted Lynne. “Just like I did on the ship.” She turned an accusing stare on Janeway. “Why didn’t you leave me there? Why did you bring me back to this? I don’t want to live this way!”

“Revi, would you give us a few minutes?” asked Janeway. Revi nodded and stepped away, and as Janeway reached out for Lynne’s hand she saw that accusing look crumple into despair.

“They took my arm, Kathryn,” said Lynne, her voice breaking. “How am I going to live with that? I’m full of implants, and I don’t have a right arm, and my brain isn’t even my own.” Her eyes pleaded with Janeway to make it better. “I’m never going to be me again. Where do I go from here? Tell me that, please!”

Janeway felt her throat closing, and she clenched her jaw to hold the tears back. If she had the Borg Queen in front of her right now, she’d take the greatest pleasure in pulling her apart piece by piece, making her death as long and agonizing as possible. But even that wouldn’t be enough retribution for the pain in Lynne’s eyes and voice. Rarely had she felt so impotent.

She lifted Lynne’s hand and bent her head to place a soft, lingering kiss on the knuckles, trying to convey the depth of her love in nearly the only form she could give right now.

“I almost lost you,” she said quietly. “You were in surgery for eleven hours, and none of us knew until the end whether you’d live or die. But here you are. You’re alive—which means I am, too. Don’t you know how much of me would have died with you if you hadn’t pulled through? Yes, you have some implants. They don’t change who you are. You still have those lovely green eyes and a smile that can drop me in my tracks, and you’re still strong and beautiful. You always will be. And you’re still you. The only difference is that now you and I really will be able to sit around and discuss Wang’s second postulate. And I’m going to have to work a little harder to kick your ass in Velocity, because you’re going to have incredible reflexes with your new arm.” She squeezed Lynne’s hand. “We will adapt, Lynne. Together.”

Lynne dropped her eyes. “I can’t even imagine what you went through to bring me back. You must think I’m ungrateful and vain.”

Janeway wanted desperately to crush her in her arms. “God, no. I think you’ve been through hell, and your reactions are perfectly understandable. The person I’m not too happy with right now is me.”

“Why?” Lynne was looking at her again, with an expression of total bewilderment.

“Because,” said Janeway, “you’re in this situation for the simple reason that I love you, and have been lucky enough to have you love me back. If we weren’t together, the Queen would never have bothered with you.” She swallowed, finding it difficult to say the next words. “But I can’t find it in my heart to wish it were any different. I should be wishing that we’d never found each other, because then this would never have happened to you. But I can’t, Lynne. I can’t imagine my life without you. So even though you’re the one paying the price, I can’t be sorry for loving you.”

Lynne took in a great, sobbing gulp of air and held out her arms. Janeway leaned over the bed and carefully slid her own arms around Lynne’s shoulders, feeling herself being enclosed in an embrace made foreign by the cybernetic arm. She closed her eyes. I will adapt. She will never, ever see anything but love and acceptance from me. Her throat tightened. Please don’t let me fail her.

“I knew you’d come for me,” Lynne was saying, her voice choked. “And in that little bit of my brain that was still mine, I was so afraid you would. God, if you knew what she had planned for you…Kathryn…”

“Shh. It’s okay, Lynne. It’s over.”

“No, it’s not. It’ll never be over.”

Janeway straightened slightly, looking down into Lynne’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ll never be the same. She marked me, Kathryn. Parts of me will always be hers; she told me that. She said I was hers, that she’d taken me and made me more than you ever could, and at the time I believed her. And even though she never once thought her plan would fail, she also told me that even if it did, I would still be hers. No matter what.”

“Do you believe that now?”

Lynne stared up, her expression haunted. “Kathryn, I’m not human anymore. There’s no going back from this. There’s no reset button, no return. This is forever.”

Janeway briefly brought to mind the picture of her dagger sliding into the Queen’s throat. It made her feel slightly better, but not enough. She’d been so afraid for Lynne’s life, but now she was realizing that the medical issues were the least of her concerns.

“You are human,” she said. “With a few extra parts. And those parts can be very much to your advantage.”

“I was perfectly happy with all my parts before,” said Lynne bitterly.

So was I, Janeway thought, but she was careful to keep it off her face. “Lynne, it seems to me that you’ve got a choice. You can choose to believe that your remaining implants make you hers. Or you can own them, and make them yours. I really think you need to talk to Seven and Revi about this. Seven was outraged when we had to remove so many of her implants; she felt we’d made her far less than before. Since then she’s recovered so much more of her humanity, but never has she come to me and asked about having more of her implants removed. She wants them. They make her who she is. And just this morning I asked Revi if she was ever going to replace her arm with a human prosthetic. Do you know what she said?”

Lynne shook her head.

“She said she didn’t think she could have saved you without it. Every time she’s thought about replacing it, something happens to make her glad she has it. She’s actually not certain she’ll ever get rid of it.”

“Well, I’m not going to have that problem,” said Lynne. “I want this thing off me as soon as possible.”

“I understand. But will you talk to them?”

Lynne turned her head away. “I’ll think about it. Can we get Revi back here? I need to ask her something else.”

Janeway stood up and looked around, finding Revi across sickbay speaking with the Doctor. As if sensing her gaze, Revi looked up and nodded, said something else to the Doctor, and walked over.

“How are you?” she asked Lynne.

“Better, I guess. Revi, that prosthetic you mentioned…you said I’d still have a sense of touch?”

“Yes, you will. And fine motor control.”

“Do you think…” Lynne’s voice cracked and she scrunched her face, trying to hold back the tears. “Do you think I’ll still be able to climb?” she finished in a whisper. “I mean, free climb? My right arm was always the strong one. I can do a lot with only one arm, but I need two for free climbing. And I have to be able to feel nubs and cracks and get my fingers in the right places.”

Revi smiled. “At last, an easy question. Let me tell you something about that arm. I’m going to have to design a special prosthetic for you, because the standard version won’t be able to stand up to the strength of your Borg endoskeletal structure. Your right arm is going to be far stronger, Lynne. You’ll be able to hang from a rock all day if you want to. And your fine motor control will be indistinguishable from what you had before.”

Tears began coursing down Lynne’s cheeks. “Okay.” She shut her eyes. “Thanks. I’m a little tired now.”

Janeway had her doubts about that, but she recognized that Lynne desperately needed some mental space. She leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Call me if you need anything, sweetheart.”

“I will.” Lynne didn’t open her eyes, and after a last look, Janeway followed Revi back into her office. When the door was shut, she stood at the transparent wall, watching the still figure in the biobed.

“What do you think, Revi?”

“I assume you’re asking about her mental state and not her physical one.”

“Yes.”

She heard the creak as Revi sat in her chair. “I think she’s going to have a very difficult time with this. Lynne’s psyche seems to be closely tied to her physical being, and although strength is a big part of that, it’s not all of it. Even knowing that her new arm will be stronger than the old, she’s obviously…” She paused.

“Devastated,” said Janeway, still watching Lynne.

“Yes. And she hasn’t even seen the other implants yet. I think she’s going to need a lot of assurance, Kathryn. She’s lost her self-image, and she’ll need to build a new one. We’ll have to make sure that it’s accurate.”

“Is yours?”

“Pardon me?”

Janeway turned around. “Is your self-image accurate? Do you think of yourself as a beautiful, accomplished woman with everything to offer?”

Revi opened her mouth, closed it again, and shook her head. “Did we just leave the realm of professional conversation?”

Janeway pulled out the other chair and sat down opposite her. “Yes, I suppose we did. Will you answer me anyway?”

Revi sighed. “I know what you’re asking, Kathryn. But keep in mind that Lynne’s situation is entirely different. She was only Borg for three days. So far as we know she wasn’t involved in any assimilations, and she wasn’t forced to do anything counter to her principles. She’s got a much better shot at a full recovery.”

“But she was forced, Revi. True, she didn’t do anything so traumatic as what you were forced to do, but she gave up everything she knew about me. To her mind she betrayed me. You heard her; the first thing out of her mouth this morning was an apology for not being able to stop it.”

“I heard.” Revi put her head in her hands. “You need a counselor on this ship, Kathryn.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wished for that?”

Revi raised her head. “Let me guess. Scientific notation was invented so that humans could count that high?”

They briefly smiled at each other before the weight of the situation came crashing back down.

“Everyone at the colony had to deal with some permutation of this,” said Revi after a short silence. “Nobody got away unscathed. But being surrounded by nothing but other ex-Borg made it easier to adapt. Everyone else was just like us. I think that’s part of the reason so many of them were happy to go back into a hive mind, because there was a unity in having all of these mentally and physically scarred individuals coming together to create a more perfect whole.” She met Janeway’s eyes. “Maybe Seven and I can provide that unity for Lynne. We can be there to help her adapt.”

Janeway stared at her. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting an interlink.”

A flash of hurt crossed Revi’s face, and Janeway realized how she’d sounded. She held up her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. There have been times when I’ve wished Lynne and I could have the kind of communication that you and Seven do. But Lynne just spent the last three days having her mind torn apart by the Queen. You of all people should understand that. Don’t you think that hearing another voice inside her head now might be more than she can handle?”

“I think that depends entirely on the voice,” said Revi. “And I’m in no way suggesting the kind of constant contact that Seven and I have. I’m normally open to all Borg frequencies, but I can also selectively filter them out. Except the Queen’s, unfortunately. I could go into Lynne’s mind just long enough to help her, and Seven can come in through me. If it doesn’t work, we’ll back out and she won’t ever hear us again. I can even go in later and deactivate her transceiver if that’s what she wants.” She leaned forward. “Kathryn, there’s something I haven’t told you yet. In about ten hours Lynne’s cortical implant is going to come back online, and it’s going to be completely overwhelming for her. More so than for any other ex-Borg I know of, because of what I had to do to the implant to save her. It’s not going to be operating properly for a while. She’s going to be flooded with huge amounts of information—the knowledge of over eighty-five hundred species, pouring through her mind in a torrent that she can’t even begin to control. Even if she never asks for our help in her general adjustment, she’s going to need it for this.”

Janeway rubbed her temples. “She won’t want it.”

“Kathryn.” Revi’s voice was now deadly serious. “It may not matter what she wants or doesn’t want. It may be an issue of medical necessity. Do you remember when Seven was infected by the vinculum weapon?”

God, did she. It had been one of the worst times of her life, when an alien cybervirus had infected Seven’s cortical implant. Seven had lost the ability to separate her own personality from the thousands of memories she carried. All of the people she’d ever assimilated had surfaced in her mind, eventually overwhelming her. It was the only time Janeway had ever heard Seven scream in sheer terror.

“Are you telling me it’s going to be a similar situation?”

Revi nodded. “Except that it won’t be personalities overwhelming her, it will be information. The cortical implant sorts and categorizes data, releasing it only on an as-needed basis. But I had to completely disrupt its normal operation during the surgery. From the moment it comes back online until it reestablishes its normal functions, Lynne won’t have any way of stopping the flood of data. And I don’t know how long that will take. It could be minutes, but it might be a lot longer. And it could literally burn up her neural pathways if she doesn’t get control of it somehow. If that happens, we’ll never get her back. Her body will live, but her mind won’t.”

Janeway closed her eyes. There just didn’t seem to be any end to this nightmare, and Lynne didn’t deserve any of it.

“You need to talk to her about this,” she said.

“I will. But even if she refuses, I’m going to go ahead and reactivate our transceivers. I’ve been afraid to do the surgery before now, just in case anything happened with her. But she’s stable, and if we wait any longer we might not be ready when she needs us.”

 

 

-----

 

 

“No,” said Lynne.

“Lynne, I don’t think you—”

“I said no, Kathryn! I do not want her in my head!” Lynne looked at Revi. “Sorry, Revi. I love you as a friend, but I am so fucking tired of having people rip into my mind.”

“There’s a big difference between me and the Queen,” said Revi calmly. “I know how you feel, Lynne. But I’ll just be there to help you. It won’t be invasive in any way.”

“Oh, right!” Lynne was becoming highly agitated. “Not invasive my ass! You can’t tell me that! I spent three goddamned days with the Queen tearing me apart, and I am through with it! Do you understand? I will not do that again!”

“I do understand,” said Revi. “What you don’t understand is that in a few hours, you’re not going to have control over your mind. It will be a temporary condition, but it’s going to be very frightening and it might actually be physically damaging if you don’t have help with it.”

“I’ll handle it.” Lynne looked at Janeway. “I forbid it, Kathryn. I will not agree to this.”

Janeway wanted to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this. “It may be a medical necessity, Lynne.”

“What are you saying? That I don’t have a choice?” Before Janeway could answer, Lynne lit into her. “Whatever happened to fucking patient rights? Jesus, Kathryn, how can you stand there and say that? If I want to die, are you going to tell me that I can’t? Do you have the right to order life and death? Because if you don’t, then you don’t have the right to order me to accept this. And neither does Revi.” She was breathing hard, glaring at Janeway, who was reeling from the words and the venom in Lynne’s voice.

Revi put her hand on Lynne’s shoulder. “Can I tell you a story?”

Lynne stared at Revi before answering sarcastically, “Sure, go ahead. I can’t wait to hear what you have in mind.”

“It’s a story they taught us in medical school,” Revi began, her voice gentle and soothing. “A woman is walking down the street when she trips and falls into a deep hole. She jumps and tries to climb the walls, but she can’t get out. Then she sees her doctor peering down at her. She says, ‘Doc, help me! I can’t get out!’ And the doctor says, ‘Sure, I’ll help.’ So she inputs a prescription on a PADD, tosses it into the hole, and walks away. A few hours later the woman sees her minister at the edge, looking down at her. She says, “Reverend, help me! I can’t get out!’ And the minister says, ‘I’ll be happy to help you.’ So she inputs a prayer on a PADD and tosses it down.”

Janeway was fascinated. Revi had completely defused Lynne’s anger; her wife was watching Revi with intense interest.

“A couple of hours later, the woman sees her best friend looking over the edge. She says, ‘Help me! I can’t get out!’ And her friend says, ‘Sure, I’ll help you.’ So she jumps in the hole. The woman says, ‘Are you insane? Now we’re both stuck down here!’ But her friend just smiles and says, ‘No, we’re not. I’ve been here before. And I know the way out.’”

There was complete silence as Janeway and Lynne both looked at Revi for her interpretation. It didn’t take long.

“They were trying to teach us that sometimes being a doctor isn’t enough, Lynne. Sometimes we have to be a friend, too. You’re about to fall into a deep hole, but I know the way out. Please let me show you. As your friend.”

Janeway held her breath, waiting for Lynne’s response. Several seconds of silence ticked by before it finally came.

“Will it hurt?”

“No, not at all.” Revi was surprised. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it hurt when she did it,” whispered Lynne. “Maybe it was because I was trying so hard to fight her. But it felt awful. And she did it all the fucking time.”

Revi squeezed Lynne’s shoulder. “The best analogy I can come up with is that it’s the difference between me doing this—” she gently ran a finger along Lynne’s jaw—“and someone else breaking your jaw. Both are a form of touch. But one is harsh, invasive and damaging, and the other is a caress. I’m not going to hurt you, Lynne. I just want to help. And I might need Seven to help as well.”

Lynne stared up at her. “Okay. But please wait, Revi. Wait until I really need it. I’d rather not do this if I don’t have to.”

“I understand. And I will.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway and Lynne both watched Revi’s still form on the biobed. The Doctor was bent over her head, a tray of surgical instruments beside him. Seven was on the next bed over, watching with a worried look on her face. She’d already had her surgery done by Revi, and now it was Revi’s turn.

“I can’t believe they did that for me,” said Lynne quietly.

“Believe it,” said Janeway. “You mean a lot to them. And besides, they both feel responsible for the Queen taking you.”

“What?” Lynne turned her head to look at Janeway directly. “Why?”

Janeway realized she hadn’t yet told Lynne about what had happened that terrible morning. “The Queen found you by doing to Revi’s mind what she did to yours, though only for a few seconds. She took Revi’s thoughts of you right out of her head. Revi thought it was completely her fault because she hadn’t been able to prevent it. And Seven pointed out that if I hadn’t rescued her from the Queen, I would never have come to the Queen’s attention—which means you wouldn’t have, either. So—they both feel responsible.”

“But Kathryn, that’s just wrong! It’s nobody’s fault. They shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“I agree it’s not their fault,” said Janeway. “But I don’t think they’re going to stop feeling guilty for awhile.” She took the opportunity to slip in a little encouragement. “I do think, though, that it will help them to be able to help you.”

Lynne resumed her observation of Revi’s surgery. “Do you know what helps me more than anything else?”

“What’s that?”

“Seeing them here, healthy and normal. And seeing you. The Queen had plans for all of you.”

They had a few hours left, and Lynne sounded more normal than she had since waking up that afternoon. Janeway decided to ask.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out,” said Lynne. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“How about if I start by telling you what I guessed she had in mind?”

That got Lynne’s interest. She turned back. “What was your guess?”

“That she was going to have me watch while she captured Voyager, assimilated the crew and divided it up among eighteen different cubes. Then I’d watch while she forced Seven to finish that nanoprobe virus for humans; the one whose development I interrupted when I took Seven from her last time. And when I’d seen the destruction of everything I held dear, she’d have you assimilate me, just in time for the invasion of the Federation.”

Lynne’s eyes were wide. “You got it all except two things.”

“And they were?”

After a slight hesitation, Lynne said, “She wanted Revi for the virus production as well. Revi and Seven were going to be redesignated as One and Two of Two. And when the virus was complete, she was going to put Revi back on assimilation detail for the invasion of the Federation. Because she was already so experienced. It was an efficient usage of her skills and it would have hurt you.” Janeway winced; she couldn’t imagine a worse hell for Revi.

“And she wasn’t going to assimilate you.”

“Why not?” Janeway was stunned.

“I mean, she wasn’t going to make it a full assimilation. I was equipped with a special breed of assimilation nanoprobes. They’d take over your mind, but leave your body intact. She wanted to use you as the face of the invasion. Like Locutus of Borg, except that she’d learned from that failure. Humanity wouldn’t respond to a liaison that was so obviously Borg. But she thought they’d respond to you—she was even going to leave you in your Starfleet uniform. You were going to reign supreme over Earth, as a puppet ruler with the Queen pulling your strings. Until humanity was fully assimilated, that is, and then you’d be the face for her next invasion. She thought you’d be pretty useful in the Federation. Seven’s nanoprobe virus was actually a backup plan. You were her primary one.”

“Jesus,” breathed Janeway. In her worst nightmares she’d never thought of such a thing.

“She told me that your inefficient human emotions would lead you to your final failure. That they limited you, but she was going to set you free. The way she’d set me free. And the part of me that was still me knew she was right; that you would come after me, and I would lead you—all of you—to your complete destruction. God, it was such a horrible, helpless feeling.” Lynne took a deep breath. “So the best medicine in the world is right in front of me, and all around me. You, and Seven and Revi, and the rest of the crew. You’re all here and okay. She’s the one who failed.”

Janeway couldn’t resist. She leaned over and planted a very light kiss on Lynne’s lips. “And do you know why she failed?” she asked softly.

Lynne shook her head.

“Because she underestimated the power of human emotions.”

A slow smile turned up the corners of Lynne’s mouth. “Did she ever.” She cocked her head in a gesture so familiar that Janeway felt her heart clench. “How did you kill her?”

“With a knife.”

Lynne’s eyes were huge. “No fucking way.”

At any other time Janeway would have laughed at both her facial and verbal expression. But nothing was funny right now.

“I knew she was expecting me to come after you. And you knew about the nanoscrubbers and the phaser rifle delivery system, which meant she’d expect that, too. So I had to think of a way to deliver those nanoscrubbers into her cybernetic systems that you, and therefore she, would never anticipate.”

“Well, you were right. Never in a million years would I have pictured you going after the Borg Queen with a knife. But how did you get through her personal shields?”

“The shields only cover essential areas. Boots don’t count.”

“You stabbed her in the foot?”

Janeway nodded. “And the nanoscrubbers worked almost instantly. Her personal shields failed a few seconds later. That’s when I got her in the throat.”

Lynne just looked at her in silence. Finally she said, “You’re my hero. I really, really wish I’d been awake to see that.”

“I wish you had been, too.” Though Janeway’s reasons were entirely different.

They watched the operation for a few minutes before Lynne spoke again.

“Kathryn, I’m a little nervous.”

Janeway leaned over, kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay to be afraid.”

Lynne looked up at her. “Is it okay to be terrified?”

“Yes. I’ll be here for you, and so will Revi and Seven. Just…don’t let it go too long before asking for help if you need it.”

They didn’t say much after that. Lynne seemed to need the silence to prepare herself, though she kept a constant hold of Janeway’s hand. Not that Janeway was going anywhere.

Revi and Seven were both up and ready to go after an amazingly short period of time. Janeway reflected that there was, after all, something very handy about having a skull designed for easy access. She looked at Lynne’s bald head, surreptitiously checking for the seams. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were there.

Revi had estimated the time when the cortical implant would come on line, and as the moment drew near, the tension in the room reached unbelievable levels. Janeway was so on edge that she was afraid to speak, knowing it would show in her voice. So she held Lynne’s hand and waited, listening to the quiet conversation between Revi and Seven. She knew they were talking out loud for her and Lynne’s benefit, and very much appreciated their consideration. Surely, after having had their transceivers reactivated, they would have much preferred mind-to-mind communication. But Revi’s story of the woman in the hole was resonating in her mind, and she was realizing how much that philosophy drove her CMO’s attitude as a doctor. Revi really was more friend than physician.

A sound from Lynne got her immediate attention, and she looked down to see her wife closing her eyes with a pained expression.

“Lynne?”

But Lynne was already too far gone to answer. She pushed her head back into her pillow, as if she were trying to get away from her own mind, and when she’d gotten it back as far as it would go the tendons in her neck stood out in stark relief. Her head began to tilt back, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Janeway looked at Revi in desperation.

“Revi! Help her!”

“She doesn’t want us yet, Kathryn.” Revi plainly didn’t like it, but she was keeping her promise.

Lynne’s hand closed on Janeway’s in a grip that was rapidly becoming painful. In a way, Janeway welcomed it—she felt completely helpless, but at least she could provide this one tiny bit of aid.

“Do you know what’s happening?”

Revi nodded, never taking her eyes off Lynne. “She’s trying to swim. In a whirlpool. She’s having a hard time, but she’s not in actual danger yet.”

Janeway waited unhappily, watching Lynne’s obvious distress and willing her to give up and ask for help. God, why wasn’t she asking? She felt a flash of anger toward her for being so damned stubborn, but then she reminded herself who Lynne had been with for the last three days. She couldn’t be blamed for not wanting to let anyone in.

After several minutes of unbearable, silent tension, a shuddering moan came out of Lynne’s open mouth and her breathing changed to short, quick gasps. Janeway couldn’t take any more; she’d deal with the repercussions later.

“Revi, you need to help her. Now.”

“I know. And so does she.” Revi closed her eyes. Janeway looked from her to Lynne, then up to Seven.

Seven understood the unasked question. “She only asked for Revi. Right now Revi is helping her compartmentalize the unwanted data until the cortical implant can process it. They’re building a temporary mental wall together.”

Janeway looked back at Lynne, whose agonized body posture hadn’t changed at all. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, wishing she could do anything to help and feeling her own stress level going right through the ceiling.

Then Lynne’s gasping breaths smoothed out, and she began breathing almost normally again. A minute later she closed her mouth and swallowed hard, and another minute after that her body suddenly relaxed, as well as her death grip on Janeway’s hand.

With a sigh of relief, Janeway carefully traded hands, flexing her cramped one as she straightened up to ask Seven for details. But Seven stood unmoving, her eyes closed. Apparently she’d joined Revi without her noticing.

It was a strange feeling, standing there and knowing that the other three women were all together in Lynne’s mind. For a moment Janeway felt very awkward. She was the one who had the right—and the responsibility—to help Lynne, and yet she was the one standing here with no idea of what was going on, while Revi and Seven took care of her wife.

Lynne’s hand squeezed hers at the same time that both Revi and Seven opened their eyes. They looked at each other with stunned expressions on their faces, but before Janeway could ask, Revi said, “She’s all right. It will be a few minutes before she can come back out, but she’s okay. The cortical implant is operating within normal parameters.”

Janeway nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.” She looked down at Lynne’s now-peaceful face, gently rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand. “Is that it, Revi? Is she done, or are there any more little time bombs waiting for her?”

“She’s done, barring any unforeseen complications. But her remaining implants are in good shape, and now that the cortical implant has reset itself, it can take over the repairs. The rest of her nanoprobes will reactivate, and once that happens I think you’ll be a bit amazed at how fast she recovers. I expect she’ll be in here the rest of the night, and tomorrow we can put her in an alcove. She’ll need to regenerate for eighteen hours, and then she should be able to go home for a day.”

Janeway looked up; her mind had stopped on the word regenerate. Lynne was right, there was no going back from this. Ever. Her wife was now tied to a regeneration alcove the way Revi and Seven were; she’d die without it. Strange; when she thought of Revi or Seven regenerating, it just seemed normal. But to think of Lynne in an alcove…she shook her head. I will adapt. We will adapt.

“She’s coming out,” said Revi.

They all watched as Lynne’s eyes opened, her dazed look quickly clearing.

“Holy shit,” she said hoarsely. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” said Revi. “Pretty deep hole, wasn’t it?”

Lynne met her eyes. “Thank you. I would never have gotten out without you—and you, Seven. How on earth did you ever survive your separation without going completely insane?”

“Our cortical implants were fully functional when we were separated from the Collective,” said Seven. “We never had to manually process that amount of data. But each of us has experienced a temporary malfunction of the cortical implant, so we knew something of what to expect for you.”

“Well, I owe you big. I can’t get over how much is in there.” She looked at Janeway. “It’s really amazing, Kathryn. I just think about something and suddenly the information is there. It’s like there’s some huge computerized file retrieval system in my head.”

“So you understand Wang’s second postulate, then?” Janeway tried to smile, but the truth was that this whole situation was becoming overwhelming. The Lynne whose hand she was holding was not the Lynne she’d left in their quarters six days ago, or even the same Lynne of ten minutes ago. Nor would she ever be again. And Janeway suddenly wanted out of sickbay; she wanted some space and time to herself to think about this. She was beginning to feel a little panicked.

Lynne’s eyes became slightly unfocused for a moment. “I wouldn’t say I understand it,” she said. “I can quote it to you, and I can tell you all about the efforts to disprove it. And the grammar school physics that I was killing myself trying to learn make perfect sense now, but you and I aren’t going to be having dinner table discussions on doctorate level physics. I don’t think the cortical implant works that way.”

“It doesn’t,” said Revi. “You were right when you called it an information retrieval system, Lynne. Just because the information is there doesn’t mean you automatically understand all of it. You’ll find that your areas of expertise have just become greatly enhanced, but you’re not going to magically be able to perform microsurgery or take apart a warp core. That’s why I’m still a doctor and Seven is still an engineer. It’s what we’re good at.”

Lynne nodded. “Biology sure has come a long way. I know about species on planets the Federation has never seen. And anthropology—it’s so fascinating. And paleontology…” She suddenly stared at Janeway. “You never told me about finding the first chordate fossil on Mars. God, Kathryn, you made the history books at age seventeen?”

Janeway swallowed, the panicked feeling growing stronger. “I didn’t realize that little bit of data had been stored in the Collective.”

“Practically anything that any assimilated Federation citizen knew is in the Collective,” said Lynne. “You made quite a splash with that discovery. Turned current scientific thinking on its ear. I can’t believe you’ve never mentioned it before now.”

“Well, I guess there are still a few things you don’t know about me,” said Janeway. “We’ll have to discuss it later over a cup of coffee.”

“Tea,” said Lynne automatically. “Did you know that the Collective knows about your coffee addiction? Where the hell—” She stopped and looked at Seven. “Oh. That came from you.”

Seven frowned. “It must have, but I don’t understand why the Collective would have retained that fact. Data is normally sifted for relevance; anything not meeting certain parameters is discarded. That should have been as well.”

“I don’t think the Queen discarded anything about Kathryn, no matter how small. She’d been planning this for some time.” Lynne smiled up at Janeway. “Let’s see what else the Collective knows about you.”

“Let’s not,” Janeway said quickly. “I want to know what you’re thinking, Lynne, not the Collective. You had me scared there for awhile.”

Lynne gave the question due consideration, apparently not noticing her abrupt change of subject. But Revi shot her a sharp look, and Janeway knew she hadn’t gotten away with anything. She kept her eyes firmly focused on Lynne’s, refusing to acknowledge Revi’s unspoken question.

“I’m better than I thought I could be,” said Lynne at last. “I think I’m still me, if you know what I mean. When I first woke up I didn’t think that was going to happen.”

Janeway’s heart hurt at the words. She felt guilty, almost as if Lynne could look inside her and see that she didn’t believe. And the need to get out was growing by the second.

She stayed for another half hour, forcing herself to act normal. They discussed Lynne’s newly available knowledge, and Lynne agreed to download everything she could think of regarding the Borg’s new transporter and weaponry technology. “At least I’ll have something to do,” she said, giving Janeway a tired smile.

When Lynne’s energy began to flag, Janeway used the excuse to leave, saying Lynne needed to get some rest and that she’d be there when she woke up. She kissed her wife on her newly-healed cheek and smiled as she turned around. But when the doors closed behind her, she couldn’t get away fast enough.

 

 

 

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