chapter 7

 

 

It was already gamma shift, at the end of a very long day. A shower and fresh clothing helped, but Janeway was too wired to sleep. For a while she paced her quarters, trying to relax and failing completely. So she went for a walk, taking some pleasure in passing through corridors that she honestly hadn’t thought she’d ever see again. It was nice to see the welcoming looks on the faces of the few crewmembers she passed, and every one of them told her how good it was to have them back. The normalcy of it began to soothe her frayed nerves, and it was with a slightly lighter heart that she ended up in the observation lounge. She rested her hip against the viewport sill, looking out at the star streaks and trying to clear her thoughts. But without the distractions provided by greeting crewmembers, her mind once again began reminding her of how different Lynne was, and how much their relationship was going to change. In bare minutes all of her previous calm had vanished and she was just as wired as she’d been before her walk. Still she stared out, desperately hoping to find some peace.

Half an hour later she was no closer to her goal, and the sound of footsteps entering her sanctuary put her immediately on edge. She knew who they belonged to.

“I thought you might be here,” said Revi. “I didn’t even ask the computer.”

Janeway didn’t take her eyes off the view. “Revi,” she said, “I left sickbay for a reason. Please give me a little space.”

Revi took up a position at the other end of the viewport, leaning her hip against the sill and facing Janeway. “I know why you left. And I thought long and hard about coming up here. But I couldn’t let you go through this alone.”

“I didn’t realize it was your choice. I have the right to be alone, Revi. Don’t push me.” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but she couldn’t seem to control it.

“Ironic words, coming from the woman who’s pushed me every step of the way.”

Janeway looked up then, her glare threatening to immolate Revi where she stood. But Revi just watched her calmly.

“Kathryn, I know I’m breaking every rule you’ve ever set up about yourself by saying this, but you need to know one very simple thing: It’s okay to be afraid.”

Her first thought was that Revi had somehow heard her when she’d said those exact words to Lynne. But that was impossible—she’d been in surgery at the time.

“Lynne is different,” Revi continued. “Some things are going to change, and you’re both going to have to adjust. But other things are just the same, and I think you might need a little reminder of that.”

Janeway turned back to the viewport. “And you’re here to remind me.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

There was a long silence, and she was almost tempted to look over to see why Revi wasn’t continuing with her well-meaning interference. Not that she minded; the silence was nice. But it was impossible to relax with Revi standing there.

“You know,” said Revi finally, “it’s hard to believe that it’s only been three weeks since you gave me the right of friendship. I was thrilled. I thought it meant that we’d have a different sort of relationship. But it didn’t, did it? Every time I try to talk to you about something that you don’t have total, absolute control over, you push me away and I have to find some way of breaking through. Just once, Kathryn, it would be nice if you really did treat me like a friend. If you’d let yourself reach out and ask for help. I won’t think any less of you.”

Janeway watched the star streaks, her initial irritation gradually changing to anger. She remembered lying on the shuttle floor, crying her eyes out while Revi stroked her hair. Crying because Revi had very deliberately touched her even after she’d warned her not to. Why was it that every time she was right at the edge, barely holding on, Revi seemed to feel the need to push her over? And she was doing it again, right now. Well, tonight it wasn’t going to work.

“I do think of you as a friend,” she said finally. “And it’s that consideration that’s keeping me from saying what I really want to right now. So I’ll just say goodnight, Revi. I’m going to my quarters, where I can be alone.” She pushed off the window and paused. “Call me if there’s any change with Lynne. Otherwise I’ll be in first thing in the morning.”

Revi looked as if she’d been slapped across the face. Janeway turned on her heel and walked out.

 

 

-----

 

 

The righteous anger that had driven Janeway since she left Revi had fizzled out. She’d tried to go to sleep, but her brain was buzzing with thoughts of all that had happened that day, and worries about what would happen tomorrow—and the next day. The day Lynne came home, and they had to adjust to whatever it was that their relationship had just turned into. She was so tired of starting over. If it wasn’t Voyager she was rebuilding, it was her marriage. And this time, for once, neither of them was at fault—but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

Her last conversation with Revi kept coming back to her, and at first she felt a dark satisfaction at remembering the stunned look on Revi’s face when she’d refused to give in. But as the night wore on, she began remembering other things—times when Revi had stood there and taken the verbal slings she’d thrown, calmly and without a flinch, only to respond with complete support when Janeway finally admitted what was bothering her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she’d treated her friend with an appalling lack of consideration, simply because she could. Because Revi had allowed it. Revi had actually said it, hadn’t she? Just once, it would be nice if you really did treat me like a friend. If you’d reach out and ask for help.

Wasn’t that exactly what she’d wished Lynne had done that day? She’d actually been angry at Lynne for refusing to let Revi in, despite the obvious agony the information overload was causing her. Was Revi angry with her for doing the same thing?

Somewhere around 0330, Janeway admitted to herself that Revi had the right to be pissed at her. She’d refused help, just like she always did, and hurt her friend in the process.

By 0345 she gave up. She got out of bed, took a quick sonic shower, threw on some clothes and went out the door.

Sickbay was dimly lit, and a quick check showed that Lynne was sleeping peacefully on her biobed. Her face showed none of the ravages of her experience, and Janeway couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the smooth skin.

“I love you,” she whispered. “We’ll get through this.” She dropped a very light kiss on Lynne’s cheek, and as she walked toward the CMO’s office, it occurred to her that at the moment, Lynne wasn’t the one who needed convincing.

She stood in the doorway and rapped her knuckles on the sill. Revi looked up from her computer, her face going carefully blank when she saw Janeway.

“Hi,” she said. “Lynne’s doing fine. I would have called if there was any change.”

“I know,” said Janeway. “I just checked on her. But I’m really here to see if my friend is available for a chat.”

Revi sat back in her chair, a wary expression in her eyes. “That would depend on what you want to chat about.”

Janeway hated the fact that she was responsible for the wall Revi was putting up. “May I?” she asked, indicating the visitor’s chair.

At Revi’s nod, Janeway stepped inside and closed the door. Revi watched her wordlessly as she walked to the desk, pulled out the chair and made herself comfortable. She examined her hands for a moment, working up the courage, and then met Revi’s eyes.

“You have every reason to be angry with me,” she said. “I’ve been a shitty friend. And I’m sorry.”

After a few seconds of a very heavy silence, Revi nodded again. “You’ve had your moments,” she said, her voice betraying a little of the anger Janeway had been afraid of. “Is that going to change?”

“I want it to.”

Revi watched her, seeming to gauge her sincerity.

“That hurt tonight,” she said at last. “It was the first time I had the courage to ask you for a real friendship, to test that equality we agreed on, and you threw it back in my face. I tried to convince myself that you’re under a lot of stress, but then I kept thinking about what my psychology professor taught me.”

“What was that?” asked Janeway, when Revi seemed unwilling to continue.

“He said that how people behave when everything is good and normal is not an indicator of their true character. It’s when things are going wrong and the stress level is high that the true character tends to show.”

“Ouch,” said Janeway. “You are mad at me.”

Revi leaned forward, resting her forearms on her desk. “Kathryn, do you understand how important you are to me? You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I love you very dearly. Which is exactly why you have the power to hurt me. I know why it’s hard for you to open up. It’s hard for me too, but I have, because I see so much in you that I want to get close to. You’re such a remarkable person, and I keep telling myself that I’m fortunate to have been allowed as close as I have, but you know what? It’s not enough. Maybe being with Seven has changed my outlook, but I think I deserve more than to be pushed away every time you really need me.”

Tears suddenly stung the backs of Janeway’s eyes, and she blinked them away. “I’ve wanted to hear you say that since the day I met you,” she said softly.

“What, that I’m tired of being pushed away?”

“No. ‘I deserve.’ I’ve never heard you say that before.” Something flickered across Revi’s face, but it was gone too quickly for Janeway to identify it. “When you came on board,” she continued, “your words, your body language, everything about you said you didn’t feel deserving, and I thought you were so wrong. I thought you were a remarkable person, too, with so much to offer. And then you chose to offer it to me, and maybe...” She paused, trying to figure out how to say it without damning herself too badly. “Maybe I took that for granted. Because you made it so easy.”

“I did. You were too important for me to lose. I had no one, Kathryn. The very first conversation Seven and I had, after my four-day regeneration, I ended up shouting at her because she had friends and people who cared about her, and she was daring to tell me that I had chosen the life I was living. I was so envious of her. And then both of you reached out to me, offering me the friendship I never thought I’d have again, and once I got over the shock of it I held on so tight it’s a wonder neither of you broke under the strain.” Revi’s eyes were shining with tears, and Janeway felt her own coming back in sympathy.

“So I did whatever I could to make sure I wouldn’t lose either of you. Until Seven told me she wanted more, and I was sure everything was going to fall apart. I knew it wouldn’t work; I knew I’d hurt her, and then I’d lose both of you. And the day I asked you for the CMO post, and you told me you questioned my motives, I thought it had all come true. Seven was giving me the cold shoulder, and you had just turned into the captain.”

“I remember,” said Janeway. “That was the first time I realized how much I’d come to mean to you. I felt a little afraid, because it would be so—” She stopped. So easy to hurt you, was what she’d meant to say, and for the first time she understood what she’d really done that evening.

“So easy to do what I just did,” she finished. “I’m really sorry. Will you let me explain?”

“Why you did it? I already know that. Because you can let me in so far and no farther.”

“That’s the general reason. But what I was actually thinking was that you’re a danger to my control. Every time I’m on the ragged edge, barely hanging on, you do something to push me over. You’ve pushed me into saying things I never wanted to say; admitting things I never wanted to admit; and on that shuttle you deliberately took away the last shred of dignity I had. Maybe it was good for me to let it out, but Revi, do you think I ever wanted to be lying on the floor of a shuttle, crying my eyes out in front of two people I was supposed to be commanding?”

Revi opened her mouth, but Janeway held up her hand. “Please, let me finish first. I freely admit that every time you’ve pushed me over, it’s been a good thing in the long run. That’s why I asked you to separate our friendship from my command, because I’m at least smart enough to recognize that I need that. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me to death when you do it. I’ve spent a very long time learning that control, and it’s hard for me to let it go. The only person in my life who sees me without my armor is Lynne, and even with her my sense of control has caused some problems. As you’re all too aware.” She gave Revi a slight smile, and was relieved when it was returned.

“And your response to fear is anger,” said Revi.

Janeway sat back in her chair. “Is it?”

“Yes. Which is usually a good thing, given the role you play. But it’s not so good in relationships. Kathryn, about the shuttle—I never meant to take away your dignity. Honestly, that never occurred to me. You were just so brittle, and you’d been going on nothing but plasma exhaust and sheer will power for three days. You’d already held up longer—far longer—than any human being could be expected to, and I was so worried about you. I was afraid you were going to shatter. And I thought it would be much better for you to let go in the privacy of the Flyer, with no one around but Seven and me, than to lose it in front of your crew or have to suffer it alone.”

“I’ve always done it alone,” said Janeway. “Until Lynne.”

“But Lynne couldn’t help you. I decided to take her place, and I’m sorry if that caused you any embarrassment. But neither Seven nor I thought any less of you for it; in fact, we felt honored to be able to provide you a safe place to let go. And besides, technically you weren’t commanding us.”

That brought Janeway up short. “I guess I wasn’t.” She looked at her hands again. “Actually…” She hesitated, then forced herself to meet Revi’s gaze. “It really helped. The physical comfort you gave me—it felt like the only thing I had to hold onto.”

The look on Revi’s face made the effort of speaking those words out loud very worthwhile.

“I’m glad,” said Revi. “I mean, I’m glad it helped.”

“It did, believe me.” Janeway scooted her chair closer, resting her arm on the desk and putting her hand over Revi’s forearm. “Can we be friends again?”

“We never stopped, Kathryn. The real question is, can you let me in?”

They looked into each other’s eyes, knowing they’d come full circle.

“You’re asking a lot of me,” said Janeway.

“I know I am. But I’m offering a lot in return.”

“You’ve already given it to me. You’ve been paying in advance. I think it’s up to me to start holding up my end now.” She paused, took a breath, and forged ahead. “So in answer to your statement in the observation lounge, about being afraid…I’m terrified. I’m completely panicked. I stood there, holding her hand, and I was the only goddamned person outside of Lynne’s head. You were all in there, working together. I don’t know where my place is going to be in her life. She’s different, she’s probably going to be twenty times smarter, and I’m not convinced she’ll need me anymore. Revi—I don’t know who she is. Who she’s become.” She stopped, unable to voice the rest of it. That if Lynne really was someone else now, if she eventually walked out of their marriage because she couldn’t maintain her original love for a woman who must seem so much smaller—it would be the death of the part of Janeway that was Kathryn. She could go on as Captain Janeway, but without Lynne she honestly didn’t think she could be Kathryn anymore.

Revi nodded. “I thought that might be it. But tell me something: in all of the vast knowledge she has at her fingertips, what was the first data she went looking for?”

Janeway sat up straight, and Revi smiled. “She went looking for any information the Collective had on you. She’d just been through a frightening, painful and frankly dangerous mental trauma, and her first thought on the other side of it was about you. I don’t think you need to worry about the place you’ll hold in her life. The fact that she has a cortical implant is not going to change her feelings about you.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Janeway felt a sense of wonder breaking through her fear. She sat, thinking furiously, while Revi simply watched. She ran the events of the day through her mind yet again, this time viewing them from a different perspective, and the sense of wonder grew. Eventually she looked up, meeting a pair of understanding eyes.

“All I could think about was how much she’d instantly changed, and the fact that she knew about that chordate fossil just emphasized that. I didn’t stop to think that she was deliberately seeking out information on me.” A great weight seemed to lift from Janeway’s shoulders, and she gave Revi the first real smile she’d been able to summon up for a while. “Thanks, Revi; that really helps.”

“You’re welcome. Kathryn, you are going to see some changes. You have every right to be afraid, because you’ve worked hard on this relationship and now it seems like it’s been pulled out from under you. But I think once you and Lynne get yourselves alone together, you’ll find that all those changes don’t touch who she is. They’re just going to affect her knowledge base and, unfortunately, her body. And that’s where the work really comes in, Kathryn. She’s going to need you like never before. She’s going to need a lot of physical affection, and a lot of reminders that you still see her as desirable and worth loving. It’s going to be very hard on both of you, for different reasons. You’ll have to be her rock, but you’ll need your own support too, and she may not be able to give it to you. Not for a while. She’s going to have to be completely focused on herself, and it may seem selfish to you as time goes by and you’re not getting what you need from her. But it’s normal. The weeks after a major physical or emotional trauma like this can actually be far more difficult than the trauma itself, both for the victim and for the caretaker. Especially for the caretaker, because you’ll have needs too, and you’ll probably feel guilty about having them when it seems that Lynne’s are so much more important.”

Janeway slumped back in her chair. “Well, I was feeling better.”

“I’m not telling you this to depress you. I’m telling you because you need to know what to expect. It’s critical that you understand that your own needs are important, too.” Revi looked her in the eye. “And I’ll be here for you, ready to help at any time. Please don’t shut me out. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Putting me to the test already?” Janeway tried for a light tone, but from the look on Revi’s face she knew she’d failed. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask. When you try to do something, you’re usually pretty damned successful.” Revi’s expression turned serious. “I need to be Lynne’s doctor now, and talk about what’s coming up in the next couple of days.”

“All right.” Janeway was instantly concerned. “Is this about her arm?”

“Yes. She was so wrapped up in first the fear and then the wonder of her cortical implant that she didn’t really think about it after that first shock. Today is going to be different. She’ll be standing in front of a Borg alcove, with a Borg arm, getting ready to regenerate the way Borg do. And when she ends her cycle she might feel better or worse about it, I don’t know. But she’s really going to need you, both when she steps in and when she comes back out. If she opens her eyes when the regeneration cycle ends and the first thing she sees is you, it might keep her from focusing on thoughts of not being human.”

“How long will you wait before replacing it?”

“Medically, I could do it in three days, but it’s going to take me a week or more to design it. I’m a little behind on my other duties, and I want to take special care with it.”

“Revi, when have you ever not taken special care with a patient?”

Revi looked a little abashed. “I always try to do my best.”

“That’s what I thought. You know, that story you told of the woman in the hole really said more about you than it did about Lynne’s situation. It certainly explained a lot about the kind of doctor you are. I’ve worked with and had to see quite a few doctors in my time, but your warmth and humanity set you apart from the rest. Voyager is incredibly lucky to have you. I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

A shadow appeared in Revi’s eyes, but she smiled and said, “Thank you, Kathryn. That’s very kind of you to say.”

“No it’s not. Just truthful.”

They spent a few more minutes discussing Lynne’s treatment, but when Janeway yawned Revi called an end to their meeting.

“Time for you to get out of here,” she said. “Don’t be trying to keep up with us Borg types when it comes to going without sleep.”

“God, sometimes I wish I could. I’ve envied both you and Seven the ability to stay up for seventy-plus hours.” Janeway paused. “Will Lynne be like that, too?”

“No. She doesn’t have nearly the same number of implants that we do, so her natural body rhythms are going to be closer to yours than ours. Once she’s fully healed, she’ll probably need about four hours of sleep per night, plus a full eight hours of regeneration every three or four days.”

Janeway thought about that as she made her way back to her quarters. Damn, she hated the idea of Lynne spending one out of every four or five nights in the cargo bay. She knew Lynne wouldn’t be happy about it, either. But, looking at the big picture, it wasn’t such a high price to pay, was it? At least they would still have most of their nights together.

Hmm. Wonder what she’ll do with the other four hours? I might never get another full night’s sleep again.

A slow smile spread across Janeway’s face. All things considered, that wasn’t an unpleasant prospect.

 

 

-----

 

 

Later that morning Revi woke Janeway with a summons to sickbay. It was time for Lynne’s first regeneration. Janeway was dressed and in the corridor in two minutes flat, her brain stumbling to catch up with her body.

She walked into sickbay to find Lynne sitting up on the biobed, dressed in loose clothing that Revi had replicated for her so that nothing would rub or press her still-healing body. Her eyes were bright and alert, and except for the bald head, she looked almost normal again. Until one looked at where her right hand used to be.

“Hi, love,” she said, and the familiar greeting went straight through Janeway’s heart. She hadn’t heard it in a week, nor had she realized how much she’d needed to.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She leaned in for a gentle kiss, and had to hold onto the biobed for support when Lynne reached up with her left hand to run her fingers through her hair. The physical sensation was momentarily overwhelming, and she couldn’t prevent the small sound that came out of her throat.

“Are you okay?” whispered Lynne.

Janeway pulled back to look into her eyes. “I’ve missed you,” was all she could say.

Lynne nodded, continuing her caresses. “I miss being with you. I can’t wait until this is over and we can go back home.”

“Revi gave you clearance to go home for twelve hours when you finish regenerating.”

“Yeah, she told me. Thank god. Though I’m a little iffy on this whole regeneration thing. I wish I didn’t have to do it.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’ll love it. You’ll come out of it bouncing and ready to go. I probably won’t be able to keep up with you.”

Lynne gave her a small smile. “I think that’ll depend on what we’re doing.” She looked pointedly at her cybernetic arm.

Janeway put her hand on it. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

When Lynne looked up, there was uncertainty in her eyes. “Not today. Do you?”

“Yes,” said Janeway firmly. “All of you.”

The uncertainty faded, but it didn’t vanish entirely. It took just a little too long for Lynne to nod.

“I love you too,” she said. “Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Janeway stepped back as Revi approached.

“Good morning, ladies. Shall we go for a little transport?”

“I thought I was walking there,” said Lynne in some surprise. “You seemed so concerned about my leg strength when you were testing me this morning.”

“That was to make sure you could stand in the alcove. No, we’re not walking. Unless you want to. I just thought you might appreciate the privacy of a direct transport.”

Lynne looked at her gratefully. “I would. Thank you, Revi.”

“Okay. Hop off the bed, then.”

With Janeway and Revi’s assistance, Lynne gingerly climbed off the biobed and stood up.

“Nice to be upright, isn’t it?” said Revi.

“God, yes.”

Nodding, Revi said, “Computer, three to transport to the regeneration alcove unit.”

They materialized in front of the alcoves, and Janeway was surprised to find Seven waiting for them.

“Good morning,” said Seven. Her eyes went to Lynne. “I am feeling somewhat fatigued. Would you mind if I regenerated with you?”

Lynne stared at her, her lips curving in a knowing smile. “You’re here to babysit me?”

Seven cocked her head. “That’s an incorrect description. I’m here to do what I normally do. The fact that it will take place at the same time as your own regeneration is merely a coincidence.”

“Bullshit,” said Lynne.

Seven smiled. “I’m here to babysit you.”

“That’s what I thought. And I’m really glad. Thank you, Seven.”

“I’ll be here as well,” said Revi. “Though I’ll start when Seven’s done because I’ll be working on your follicle stimulation first.”

Lynne turned to Janeway. “I get my hair back.”

“So I hear.” Revi had already told Janeway that, once Lynne was regenerating, her body would ramp up to nearly normal levels of energy; at that point it would be safe to stimulate her hair follicles. Janeway would never admit how important that was to her. She couldn’t wait to run her fingers through Lynne’s hair again.

“Okay,” said Lynne. “The sooner I start, the sooner I’m out, right?” She moved to the dais, and both Janeway and Seven went to her side to help her up. “Thanks. I’m assuming this one’s mine?” She pointed to the third alcove.

Seven nodded, and they all clustered around the empty alcove.

Lynne stepped into it and turned around. “How many Starfleeters does it take to put an ex-Borg to bed?” she asked, smiling at them. But Janeway could see that the joke was a cover up; there were lines of tension on her face.

“You were only Borg for three days, so you don’t qualify,” said Revi. “The minimum time is one year if you want to put yourself in the same league as us real Borg types.”

Lynne’s eyes grew suddenly shiny, and Janeway stepped in front of her.

“When you open your eyes at the end of your cycle,” she whispered, “I’ll be standing right here.”

Lynne’s effort at putting up a good front collapsed. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Seven or I will be right here the whole time,” said Revi. “Both of our alcoves, as well as the sickbay computer, will be notified if anything goes outside parameters in your regeneration. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried,” said Lynne. “I’m just…feeling a little odd.”

“Odd physically?”

“No…just odd.”

Revi nodded. “I understand.”

They waited, and Lynne seemed to realize that it was up to her to start the cycle. “Well, I guess I’ll see you all in eighteen hours.”

Janeway moved right into her alcove, wrapping her arms around her and giving her a very gentle hug. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered.

“Thank god for that.” Their eyes remained locked as Lynne stepped back. The alcove completed the connection with a very familiar sound, and Lynne’s eyes shut as her body stiffened slightly.

Janeway swallowed hard. It was a vision out of her nightmares, but it was very much reality. She felt a gentle hand on her arm.

“She’ll be fine, Kathryn. I guarantee you that once she’s experienced what regeneration will do for her, she’ll look forward to it in the future.”

Janeway looked into Revi’s understanding face, then shifted her gaze to Seven. “You didn’t,” she said pointedly. “You were always fighting me on it. Sometimes I felt like I was trying to put an eight-year-old to bed.”

Seven looked a bit embarrassed. “Only because you often insisted on regeneration when I was engaged in an important project.”

“Yeah, that’s what all eight-year-olds say,” said Revi. “Speaking of which, time to regenerate, Seven.”

Seven opened her mouth, caught Revi’s grin, and shook her head. “We will discuss this later.”

It made Janeway feel better to watch this interaction. Maybe her world had come completely unglued, but at least others were still experiencing normality.

Seven programmed her console, nodded to Revi and Janeway, and stepped in. Revi pulled a tool out of her pocket and moved next to Lynne. “I’ll be here a while doing this,” she said. “And you’ve got nothing to worry about for the next eighteen hours.”

“Am I being dismissed?”

Revi smiled at her. “I would never dismiss you.”

“That means yes.” Janeway smiled back, though it took some effort. “I was thinking of going to my ready room anyway. I’m sure I’ve got some mail to catch up on, and probably a ration of shit from Starfleet. I can’t imagine that my resignation went over very well. I just didn’t think I’d have to deal with the fallout.”

“That’s the problem with surviving suicide missions,” said Revi, already moving the follicle stimulator over Lynne’s scalp. “You have to keep living. And there’s nothing neat and tidy about life.”

Janeway looked up sharply, but Revi was focused on what she was doing.

“Thanks for your help, Revi,” she said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Sounds good. And Kathryn?”

Janeway turned back. “Yes?”

“A little regeneration would do you a world of good, too. I know for a fact that you haven’t gotten more than five hours of sleep at a time for a week now.”

Janeway nodded, recognizing a gentle order when she heard one. “I will.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Chakotay sounded delighted when she contacted him, even though she warned him that she was coming in only to catch up on messages and news. He told her the ready room was all hers, and there was a stack of PADDs on her desk. She figured it was too much to hope that he’d turned in the last round of departmental reports for her.

It was a little strange to be standing in the turbolift in civilian clothes; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked onto her bridge in anything but her uniform. And when the ‘lift doors opened, her bridge crew didn’t quite seem to know what to do, either. They all turned to greet her, but she wasn’t their captain and there was no protocol for this.

She stood at the upper deck railing and smiled at them. “It’s good to see all of you,” she said. “Thank you for all of your help and support.”

“You’re welcome,” said Chakotay. “If you or Lynne need anything from any of us, let us know.”

“How is she, Captain?” asked Tom. He didn’t seem to notice that he’d used her rank, and she didn’t feel like correcting him. To be truthful, she wasn’t sure she could handle her bridge crew calling her Kathryn.

“She’s regenerating,” she said, noting a few winces around the room. “I’m sure you’ve heard rumors, so let me just set the record straight.” She and Lynne had already discussed this the previous evening, and Lynne had given the go ahead to put the word out. “She’ll have Borg implants for the rest of her life, but in long pants and a jacket nobody will ever know. Her right arm was taken, but Revi will be working on a prosthesis for her and she’ll be fitted with it in another week or so. She’ll also be dependent on a regeneration alcove from now on. But all things considered, she’s doing well. As soon as she’s up for visitors, I’ll let you know.”

Heads nodded all around the bridge, but no one quite seemed to know what to say. Janeway took the heat off them. “I’m just here to catch up on my messages. Chakotay’s trying to convince me to take back my command, and I will—” she gave Chakotay a wink—“but it will be a few more days. Can you stay out of trouble until then?”

That got her a round of relieved smiles and a chorus of “yes, Captain,” and she waved as she walked into her ready room.

Her desk was bare except for a neat stack of PADDs in the center. She paused, looking around the room and appreciating the comfort of the familiar environment. A short trip to the replicator yielded an extra-large cup of coffee, and she settled in behind her desk. The very first PADD on the stack held two messages from Admiral Necheyev, the first dated three days ago. With a sigh, she activated it.

“Captain Janeway,” said Necheyev, her gaze burning a hole right through the PADD screen, “I’d damn well better be hearing back from you, and soon. Your resignation is not accepted. If you’re not a Starfleet officer, then Commander Chakotay has exceeded his authority by granting you the use, and probable destruction of, Starfleet property. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the Commander to be disciplined for such an action.

I’ve put you on personal leave until further notice. Commander Chakotay has been awarded Acting Captain status, but his field promotion is on hold. I’m giving you a week, and I expect to hear from you before then. Good luck on your mission.”

“Well,” said Janeway, “that was vintage Necheyev.” It was a wonder the PADD hadn’t melted.

The second message was dated yesterday. This time the Admiral looked completely different, and her voice was far kinder.

“Captain Janeway, please accept my best wishes for your wife’s recovery and my condolences for the experience both you and she have suffered. Acting Captain Chakotay sent me a message outlining the results of your mission, and I look forward very much to hearing a more detailed version from you, in person. Please set aside a day’s comm time for a debriefing, to take place immediately after your receipt of this message. Send me a confirmation. I will also expect a full report to be sent in the mail packet during our debriefing.” She paused. “In addition, I thought you might like to know that your petition to award Federation citizen status to Commander Revi Sandovhar and Seven of Nine, formerly Annika Hansen, is now in the final stages of approval. And Captain…well done.”

Janeway shook her head in astonishment. What had suddenly happened to advance her petition for Revi and Seven? She’d been fighting the review committee on that for months and had gotten exactly nowhere. And since when did Necheyev hand out compliments? She’d never heard the Admiral say “well done” before.

Well, you did destroy the Borg Queen, her ship, and eighteen cubes, she reminded herself. A slow smile spread over her face. I think I’ve just acquired some serious political clout.

She spent another five hours catching up on news and messages, then sent Chakotay a note asking him to notify the crew of the new comm link schedule. If she was taking up an entire eleven-minute link, then everyone had just been moved one day back for their personal calls. It had happened a few times before, and she hated to do it, but it was necessary. Then she recorded a message for Admiral Necheyev, scheduling the debriefing for the day after tomorrow. There was no way she was going to do that on Lynne’s first day home, regardless of what the Admiral wanted. She was still on leave, after all.

When she left the ready room and waved goodbye to the bridge crew, she felt the happy satisfaction of being on top of her job. At least that part of her life was humming along properly.

Back in her quarters, she relaxed with a book of poetry until her eyelids began getting heavy, which took all of ten minutes. Her sleep schedule was in complete disarray, and she’d pay for this tomorrow, but she really needed a nap. A very long one. Setting aside the book, she went to the bedroom, asked the computer for a wakeup call an hour before the end of Lynne’s regeneration, and gratefully collapsed into bed. She knew from experience that when she was this tired, she could sleep like a rock no matter when or where she was. She had eleven hours until her wakeup call; that ought to be about right.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 8

 

 

I’ve been here so many times before. I just never thought I’d be here waiting for her.

Janeway stood in front of the alcoves, which currently housed two women. Revi and Lynne were side by side, identical blank expressions on their faces and their bodies in the same rigid posture.

Lynne looked completely different. Revi must have spent a long time on her, because her hair was once again at full length. If she hadn’t been standing in a Borg alcove, Janeway could almost have convinced herself that nothing had happened.

Her eyes drifted to the cybernetic clamp protruding from Lynne’s right sleeve.

Almost.

“Regeneration cycle complete,” said the computer, and Revi’s eyes opened. She stepped forward, breaking the connection, and smiled at Janeway.

“How does she look?”

“Fabulous,” said Janeway. “Thank you, that must have taken hours.”

“I had the time. And it was important.”

“That’s not what you said after her surgery.”

“No, what I said then was that it had no medical importance. I never said it wasn’t important.”

Her knowing look made Janeway wonder if her shameful little secret wasn’t that much of a secret. And Revi’s next words confirmed it.

“Don’t worry, Kathryn, you’re not transparent to everyone. But I don’t think you realize how much you and Lynne touch each other when you’re in your quarters. And how many of those touches involve your hair. Both of you do it, and it’s really cute to watch.”

“Thank you,” Janeway managed. She hoped she wasn’t blushing; this was embarrassing! But Revi just nodded and turned to Lynne, picking up a medical tricorder and running it over her body.

“Excellent,” she murmured. “She’s done beautifully. You can give her a big hug, Kathryn. You won’t hurt her.” She stepped back, and they both waited. It didn’t take long.

“Regeneration cycle complete.”

Lynne’s eyes snapped open to look directly into Janeway’s. She smiled. “I knew you were here. I could sense it.” She stepped forward, her eyes widening slightly as she broke the connection. “Whoa. That’s an interesting feeling. It didn’t feel like that on the ship.”

“It’s a little different when you’re not fully Borg,” said Revi. “The power is being absorbed through your skin into your cybernetic systems, instead of being delivered directly. So there’s bound to be some tingling of the biological tissues when the connection is severed.”

“More like buzzing. Feels like I have bugs crawling around my lower back.” Lynne rubbed the area in question, then stepped off the dais, the motion settling her hair around her shoulders. She stopped and pulled a lock forward to examine it, then gave Revi a grateful look. “Thank you, Revi. I can’t even pretend that I’m not hopelessly vain. I really missed this.”

Janeway walked right into Lynne’s arms, putting both of her hands into her hair and letting the soft strands glide over her fingers.

Lynne’s eyes closed. “Oh god, that feels good.”

“Yes, it does,” whispered Janeway. She wrapped her arms around Lynne, allowing herself to enjoy a real hug for the first time. “So does this.” She felt Lynne’s arms come around her back, and this time the cybernetic arm didn’t feel quite so foreign. She thought she might even be able to get used to it in time—but was glad she wouldn’t have to. They held each other for several minutes, until a voice broke the silence.

“Okay, you two, break it up for just a second. Anyone would think you hadn’t seen each other for a month.”

Janeway reluctantly pulled away, but not before planting a soft kiss on Lynne’s lips. “We’ll pick this up in our quarters,” she said, then turned to Revi. “You’d better have a good reason for interrupting something so important.”

“I just need a quick examination. Then you can go back to your quarters and pick up whatever you want to.” Revi gave Janeway a severe look. “Within bounds of reason.”

Lynne submitted willingly to her exam, her eyes going back to Janeway’s whenever she wasn’t answering Revi’s questions. Revi pronounced her in good shape and told her to go home. “Call me if you have any questions or experience any discomfort,” she said. “Otherwise you’re good to go. But you are not to climb any mountains. And I want you back here at 1430 hours for your second regeneration session. It’s going to take a few major recharges to get your body through the rest of your healing.”

“Thanks, Revi.” Lynne reached out and gave her surprised doctor a hug. “I owe you a lot.” When they separated, Revi’s professional mask was nowhere to be seen.

“You don’t owe me a thing,” she said quietly.

Lynne kept her left hand on Revi’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Revi. Or Seven’s. Or Kathryn’s. So you can all stop feeling guilty, okay? I don’t blame anyone but the Queen, and she’s dead.”

They stared into each other’s eyes until Revi nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Lynne turned to Janeway. “Can we go home now?”

 

 

-----

 

 

It took them longer than usual to make their way to their quarters. Even at nearly 0300, there were a few crewmembers in the corridors, and several of them stopped to extend their well wishes to both Janeway and Lynne. By the time they made it through their door, Janeway was feeling positively agitated. She hadn’t had Lynne to herself in over a week and she was tired of it. As soon as the door was shut she turned to Lynne and wrapped her up in a hug. They held each other silently, and Janeway could feel the tension gradually draining out of her body. Finally she pulled back just far enough to see into Lynne’s eyes.

“Would you like anything to eat? Or maybe some tea?”

“No, thank you,” said Lynne. “I do not require liquid nutrition at this time.”

Borg phrasing. Janeway felt the shock go all the way down to her toes, and Lynne’s smile quickly changed to a look of regret. “I’m sorry. That was a really bad joke.”

Janeway let go and walked to the replicator. “Coffee. No, belay that. Whiskey and soda.”

Lynne came up behind her. “Kathryn…”

Janeway picked up her drink and turned around. “Don’t ever do that again.” She was barely holding on to her composure.

Lynne gently took the drink out of her hand, put it back into the replicator and drew Janeway into her arms. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was trying to make light of it and it completely backfired. Can you just call me an asshole and we’ll move on from there?”

Janeway wanted to answer, but she knew if she said anything at all she’d break down. So she just held on, with increasing desperation.

“Oh, Kathryn,” whispered Lynne. “You’ve been carrying this by yourself, haven’t you?”

Still Janeway could say nothing. Lynne kissed her on the side of the head and whispered, “Come on.” She backed away, holding onto Janeway’s hand, and drew her to the couch. She let go just long enough to settle herself against the armrest, then reached out in invitation. Janeway hesitated.

“Don’t worry,” said Lynne, correctly reading her expression. “You’re not going to hurt me by leaning against me.”

Janeway nodded but still moved very carefully as she snuggled into her favorite spot, feeling Lynne’s arm coming around her waist. When she realized that Lynne hadn’t brought her right arm around, she reached down and put it in place herself. Then she leaned her head back against Lynne’s warm shoulder and slowly let herself relax. She could feel Lynne’s chest implant, a hard smoothness that hadn’t been there before.

Neither of them said anything for a very long time, and even though Janeway could think of six things she should be doing, there was no way she was moving. She’d waited too long for this.

Finally Lynne spoke. “Have you forgiven me yet?”

“Yes,” said Janeway. “You just scared the hell out of me.”

“I know I did. I could see it in your face. I didn’t mean to, Kathryn. It was in poor taste.”

“You’re damn right it was.” She laced her fingers through Lynne’s left hand. “It took Seven almost three years to drop that Borg vocabulary. I never want to hear it from you. Part of your charm is your archaic language.”

“Archaic? Thanks a lot.” But Janeway could hear the smile in her tone.

“I wonder if the Collective picked up any bizarre idioms from you,” mused Janeway. “We are the Borg. Resistance is futile. Try it and we will open a can of whupass on you.”

Lynne laughed. “It might be more effective, don’t you think?”

“Well, it would certainly strike the fear of god into me.”

“Somehow I doubt that. Anyone who can kill the Borg Queen with a knife doesn’t know what the fear of god is.”

“Oh, yes I do.” Janeway knew it all too well.

Lynne squeezed her. “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”

“Sure you can,” said Janeway, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Just imagine standing in front of the main viewer, watching the Queen assimilate me.”

“Kathryn…”

“Imagine watching her leave with me on board, knowing that you’ll probably never see me again,” continued Janeway. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this; Lynne didn’t need her unloading on her, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Imagine spending three goddamned days in absolute hell, trying to command a crew when all you want to do is curl up and die. And then two more days in hell, waiting for Voyager to pick you up and knowing that the only reason I’m alive is because I’m in stasis, and that it all might just be borrowed time. Imagine spending eleven hours waiting in sickbay, terrified that at any minute Revi’s going to walk over and tell you that she couldn’t save me. That I died from a cascade cybernetic failure caused by your own damned—” She stopped, horrified by what she’d almost said.

“My own what?” asked Lynne gently.

“Idiocy,” said Janeway, closing her eyes and hoping against hope that Lynne wouldn’t pursue it.

“You know,” said Lynne, “I haven’t heard much of your side of the story. Will you tell me?”

“Oh, Lynne, I don’t think you need to hear this now.”

“No, I don’t. But you obviously need to talk about it.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

“Says who?”

“Says Revi.” Janeway felt like she was tattling.

Lynne squeezed her. “Revi is a goddess in the sickbay and a wonderful human being. But she’s not omnipotent and she doesn’t know me the way you do. How long do you think I’m going to tolerate you tiptoeing around me?”

Janeway let out a laugh that was half a sob. “God, that’s true. I’ve been so worried about you that for a moment I forgot how stubborn you are.”

“Well, stop worrying. I’m fine. A little less than I used to be, but fine.”

Janeway sat up and shifted around so that she could see Lynne’s face. “You are not less than you used to be.”

Lynne held up her right arm. “Sure I am. Come on, Kathryn, let’s be realistic. I’ll never be the same. We just have to go on from there.”

Janeway looked into her eyes, seeing a whole different story in their depths. “To quote my wife, bullshit. You’re not nearly as cavalier about this as you’re pretending to be.”

“And you’re not nearly as in control as you’re pretending to be.”

They stared at each other, the tension crackling. Finally Lynne smiled. “Can we both just admit that we’re completely fucked up?”

Janeway started to laugh, but her body had other ideas and a moment later she burrowed into Lynne’s shoulder, giving herself up to the total comfort that she could never find, nor accept, anywhere else. The tension she hadn’t been able to fully release, not even on the Delta Flyer, came flooding out now in deep, wrenching sobs.

“I was so worried,” she choked out, the tears streaming down her face. “I’m so glad you’re here. I still can’t believe it.”

Lynne held her tightly, stroking her hair. “Believe it. We’re both here, we both survived, and we’re going to be okay.”

“Are we?” Janeway felt guilty, asking Lynne for comfort and assurance, but with that heartbeat in her ear and the warm body surrounding her, she just didn’t have the strength to pull away.

“Kathryn,” said Lynne softly, “take a look around. We’re here in our quarters, safe and sound, and more or less in one piece. Amazingly, you still seem to love me even though I’m part Borg, and I sure as hell don’t love you any less, so as far as I’m concerned, everything else is window dressing.”

Janeway thought about what Revi had said, that Lynne’s cortical implant wouldn’t change her feelings. For the first time, she began to believe that there really was a separation between the implants and who Lynne was. Despite the chest implant beneath her cheek, the cybernetic arm she could feel resting against her back, and the unseen implant in Lynne’s head that gave her access to a universe of knowledge, this really was her Lynne. Different, yes. Fundamentally changed? No.

She straightened up and wiped her cheeks. “Window dressing, huh? I’m thinking that if the Collective did pick up any of your idioms, the linguistic conflicts and lack of logic might well destroy it.”

“Oh, you’re very funny.” Lynne reached up and grasped Janeway’s hand. “We are going to be okay, Kathryn. Because if we’re not, then she won. And I won’t let that bitch take anything else away from me.”

“Competitive to the very end, aren’t you?” Janeway gave her a shaky smile.

“Look who’s talking.” Lynne’s smile was a bit watery, too. “I may be competitive, but I lost, Kathryn. You’re the one who beat her. And rescued your personal security escort in the bargain.”

“Don’t even think that.” Janeway saw where this was going. “She took us by surprise. You had no defense. I, on the other hand, had a weapon guaranteed to destroy her in seconds. If you’d had that knife on you, I wouldn’t have had to come after you.”

Lynne wasn’t looking convinced, so Janeway leaned in and kissed her. “Besides,” she said, leaning her forehead against Lynne’s, “I’m positive you’re the only person in the entire universe who ever said ‘fuck you’ to the Borg Queen.”

“Yeah, she didn’t like that much,” said Lynne. “I really thought she was going to kill me then.”

“She wasn’t used to defiance. It’s part of the reason that Seven and I fascinated her so much, I think. We didn’t show her the fear that she was used to. Neither did you. I was proud of you.”

“You were?” Lynne was surprised.

“God, yes. Sick with terror, but proud.”

“Kathryn.”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me about it. You need to.”

With a sigh, Janeway straightened up. “Well, if I’m going to do that, then I need my drink.” She stood up, retrieved her glass from the replicator, and opened her mouth to order Lynne’s gin and tonic. “Oh.”

“What?” asked Lynne from the couch.

“I just realized something.” Janeway turned around. “You can’t have synthehol. Or alcohol.”

Lynne’s eyes widened. “What? Fuck! That bitch! I can’t believe it!” She put her hand over her eyes. “Wasn’t my arm enough? She had to take that, too?” The hand dropped as her head came back up. “Wait a minute. Synthehol and alcohol are only two intoxicants. There are plenty of others, created by all kinds of species, and I have their molecular structures sitting in here.” She tapped her temple. “Why didn’t Seven or Revi think of this? It’s just a matter of programming the replicator to get something that’s compatible with human physiology and gives the right flavor. I’ll just try them out until I find the right one.”

Janeway couldn’t help herself; she laughed. Oh yes, this was her Lynne, no doubt about it. “Seven and Revi probably don’t place quite as much importance on it as you do. I’m sure the Queen would be glad to know that you’re putting the knowledge of the Collective to such good use.”

“The Queen can kiss my collective ass cheeks,” said Lynne as she stood up. “Let me at that thing.” Janeway stepped aside and watched in some amazement as Lynne punched in a series of commands, designing a new molecule on the spot. Then she rewrote the gin and tonic recipe to include the new molecule.

“Computer,” said Lynne, a note of triumph in her voice, “gin and tonic.”

With a hum, the replicator produced a glass of clear liquid. Lynne pulled it out, toasted Janeway silently, then took a sip. Her face immediately scrunched up and she hastily put the glass back. “Yuck. Okay, one down, five thousand or so to go.”

Janeway looked at her, a broad smile on her face.

“What?” asked Lynne.

“I’m just glad to have you back.”

Lynne’s expression softened. “I’m glad to be back.”

“Are you really?” For Janeway, the memory of Lynne’s expression and voice as she’d asked how she was supposed to live this way was crystal clear. She didn’t think she’d ever forget it.

Lynne nodded in understanding. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry about what I said in sickbay. I was feeling a little overwhelmed. I didn’t mean to belittle what you did for me.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m still overwhelmed, but I’m here with you. And right now that’s all that matters.” She pulled Janeway into her arms, and the captain happily snuggled in.

“Are you going to try the other five thousand molecules right now?” she asked.

“No.” Lynne kissed her. “I’ve got better things to do at the moment.”

“Good.”

They resettled themselves on the couch, and Lynne listened attentively while Janeway described the last week from her point of view. It was vastly comforting just to talk about it, and not for the first time she wondered how she’d ever survived those first five years, when she’d literally had no one to talk to. Really talk to.

By the time they had hashed out their experiences from both sides, it was well past 0600 and Janeway was tired again.

“Sweetheart, I need to go back to bed. I know you’re probably wide awake, but would you join me?” What she really wanted to say was, will you hold me until I fall asleep?, but mindful of Revi’s advice, she was trying not to push her own needs on Lynne. Her wife already saw more than she wanted her to.

Lynne looked a bit uncomfortable, but nodded. “I’d love to. I just…need a few minutes in the bathroom when you’re done.”

“Okay. I’ll be right out.” Janeway knew something was going on in that dark head, but she didn’t press her on it. Rising from the couch, she dropped a last kiss on Lynne’s lips and then retired to the bathroom. A few minutes later she was pulling off her clothes, draping them over the lounge and crawling happily between the sheets.

Lynne still hadn’t come in. “Lynne?” she called. “Are you coming?”

Her wife appeared in the doorway. “Yeah.” She made her way across the bedroom, carrying something under her left arm, and vanished into the bathroom. The door was firmly shut.

Janeway blinked. Lynne didn’t often bother with shutting the bathroom door. They’d been lovers for fifteen months and married for nearly six; there wasn’t much they hadn’t seen. But a moment’s reflection reminded her that there was something she hadn’t seen—Lynne’s implants. Her suspicions grew when Lynne stayed in the bathroom for quite a bit longer than normal. At last the door opened, and Janeway had to consciously keep her jaw closed when her wife stepped out in full pajamas. From the very first night they had slept together, Lynne had never slept in anything but her own skin.

Lynne came to the bed and slipped in, fidgeting a little with the unfamiliar pajamas. Janeway sat up.

“Lynne—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Janeway watched her silently, and eventually Lynne turned her head on the pillow and met her eyes.

“They’re hideous, Kathryn.”

Janeway kept her voice very soft. “Will you let me be the judge?”

“No, I don’t think there’s any judging to be done. They’re just hideous. I saw them in sickbay, except for the one on my back, but this is the first time I’ve really gotten a good look. Jesus, Kathryn. I can’t believe that I…” she stopped and swallowed hard.

Janeway scooted over, holding her upper body above Lynne’s. Very carefully, she rested her hand on Lynne’s shirt, her fingers sliding between the buttons. “May I?”

“No!” Lynne grabbed Janeway’s wrist. “I don’t want you to see them.”

Janeway held still. “For how long?”

“What?”

“How long are you going to keep me from seeing them? It’s going to cramp our style a bit, don’t you think?”

“Kathryn…” Lynne looked at her pleadingly.

“Please let me,” whispered Janeway. “I can’t imagine anything about you that could turn me away.”

“Yeah, well, imagine this.” But Lynne let go of Janeway’s wrist. “Fine. Go ahead.” She closed her eyes and waited.

Gently Janeway undid the top two buttons, but then she glanced at Lynne’s face and stopped in horror. A single tear was sliding down Lynne’s temple, making its way slowly toward her ear. Suddenly Janeway felt as if she were violating Lynne’s body, and the thought made her ill. She slowly closed the buttons again.

Lynne opened her eyes in surprise. “You didn’t look.”

“I can’t. Not when it obviously bothers you so much. I’m sorry, Lynne, I shouldn’t have pushed you. You’re not ready yet. But please understand that when you do choose to show me, they won’t make any difference.”

“That’s easy to say.”

“Have I ever given you lip service?”

“No,” admitted Lynne. “At least, not that I know of. But Kathryn, this is different. This is me.”

“Would you think less of me if I had this on my chest?” Janeway rested her hand on Lynne’s shirt, directly over the implant.

“No,” whispered Lynne. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. It wouldn’t matter. You’d probably make it look sexy. But it’s not the same, Kathryn. I can’t explain it, it’s just not.” She looked miserable, and Janeway gave up.

“Okay,” she said. “Can I at least snuggle with you?”

Lynne bit her lip and nodded, and Janeway scooted in, wrapped her arm around Lynne’s waist and sighed. She should have known that Lynne’s humor and apparent acceptance had just been a huge cover up. They had a long way to go.

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway woke to the sensation of a gentle touch on her face, traveling down to her throat. She’d been sleeping on her back and instinctively tilted her head, baring her throat to the touch, her body knowing it was Lynne before her brain even finished waking. The touch moved down her throat, paused, then traveled along her collarbone to her shoulder. It made a slow circle, then came back along its path and went to the other shoulder.

When Janeway opened her eyes she saw Lynne sitting up, her cybernetic arm resting in her lap while she watched the movement of her human hand with absolute concentration. It was almost as if she were trying to memorize Janeway’s body. She didn’t seem to notice that Janeway was awake.

Gently, she pushed the covers down to expose Janeway’s torso, then continued her soft explorations. It wasn’t sexual. In fact, Janeway felt unaccountably saddened by the touches, and it took her a few moments to realize what was happening.

Lynne was in mourning. For her old body; for their former physical relationship, perhaps. The confirmation came when her touch moved to the area just above Janeway’s left breast and paused there, rubbing in a slow circle.

Janeway reached up and gently placed her own hand over Lynne’s. When their eyes met, she saw a world of sorrow.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lynne whispered.

“So are you.”

Lynne shook her head. “Not anymore.”

“Lynne…”

“I’ve been trying to figure out why it’s so important to me. I never really cared that much about it before, you know?” Lynne’s eyes dropped back to her hand, and she resumed her caresses. Janeway lifted her own hand and let her go.

“I can’t say I never used my looks to my advantage,” Lynne continued. “I figured if I lived in a world with double standards, I might as well work the system to my benefit. But beyond those few times, I didn’t really care. I mean, I have all kinds of scars from accidents and falls and just living an active lifestyle, and they never bothered me. In fact, I was always kind of proud of them, even though most women, and a lot of men, probably thought they were ugly. But the people who lived in my world, the people whose opinions meant anything to me, didn’t think a thing about them and I didn’t either.”

Her hand moved down to Janeway’s stomach, resting briefly over her navel before slipping down to one side to caress the curve of her waist. “So I’ve been trying to think of these implants—and this fucking arm—as just more scars, with a great story behind them.” Now her hand traveled up Janeway’s side, softly brushing a breast. “And I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about me anymore except you, and you say you don’t care, so why should I?”

Her eyes came up again as her hand paused over Janeway’s heart. “But I do, Kathryn. I can’t seem to work my brain around it. And I think it’s because of what she said.”

“That you were hers.” Janeway remembered Lynne’s words in sickbay.

“Yes. She didn’t think in terms of beauty; she thought in terms of perfection. She made me perfect in her eyes. The arm and the implants are her mark on me, and even though Revi says I can get rid of the arm, I’ll never be rid of the implants. I can’t think of them as marks of pride. Every time I see them or feel them, I think of her and the things she whispered in my head.”

Janeway swallowed her fury at an opponent that she’d already killed. Killed, but not vanquished—because the Queen was still in the fight. And from the looks of things, she was winning.

“Then maybe you and I need to create some new associations for them,” she said. She raised her own hand and placed it over Lynne’s chest implant, the material of the shirt soft beneath her fingers. “I’m not going to look,” she whispered. “But can I just feel it?”

Lynne stiffened, but Janeway didn’t move. After a moment Lynne nodded. “Go ahead.”

Janeway held her gaze as she slowly undid the top two buttons, then slid her hand under the shirt.

“I like the warmth,” she said. “It’s warmer than the skin around it.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Thank god. It would be a little gross to have cold metal there.”

Janeway gave her a small smile as she gently traced the outline of the starburst implant with her fingertips. “And it’s actually smaller than I thought.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Every day of my life, Lynne.”

Lynne’s eyes suddenly flooded with tears. She pulled Janeway’s hand out, turned it and kissed the wrist, her mouth trembling against it. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m being so stupid about this.”

“You’re not being stupid,” said Janeway. “You’re just working your way through it.”

Lynne shifted, pulling her body over Janeway’s and dropping a sudden flurry of kisses on her throat, jaw and mouth. “I love you,” she said, and by the tone of her voice Janeway knew she was close to losing it.

“I love you too.” She put her arms around Lynne’s back and tried to pull her down, but Lynne resisted.

“I can’t anymore,” she said, raising her head. “I’m too heavy, remember?”

Janeway knew she shouldn’t have mentioned anything about her injuries in the shuttle. “That was with all of your implants and exoplating. I doubt you’re more than a couple of kilos heavier now.”

Lynne didn’t look convinced, but Janeway persisted. “Please? I’ll tell you if you’re crushing me.”

“You won’t have to; I’ll know because your eyes will be bugging out.” Lynne gave her a watery smile and very carefully lowered her weight onto Janeway’s body.

As it turned out, Lynne’s remaining implants added quite a few more than a couple of kilos. Janeway knew she wouldn’t be able to tolerate it for long, but at the moment it was bliss to have this full body contact. “Oh, god, you feel good.”

“So do you,” whispered Lynne, resting her cheek on Janeway’s chest.

Janeway closed her eyes as she ran her hands up and down Lynne’s back. Then, before she could tell herself not to, she let her hands go under Lynne’s waistband and cupped her buttocks. “Well, this feels just the same,” she said.

“You’re a dog,” said Lynne, but Janeway could hear the smile in her voice.

“Only when it comes to you.” Janeway held on a little longer, wishing they could stay like this forever, but she was already feeling the effects. “I need you to get up, sweetheart.”

Lynne was back on her forearms in a heartbeat, and Janeway gratefully filled her lungs. She knew she couldn’t push Lynne any farther than she had, and they could probably both use a break.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

Lynne tilted her head. “I guess I am,” she said.

“Come on, then. I’ll make you…” she glanced at the chronometer. “Brunch, I guess.”

They spent the rest of the morning in their quarters, just enjoying the normalcy. Janeway suggested that they record a message for Gretchen and Phoebe, since the last one they’d received probably had them completely worried to death.

“You told them?”

“Do you think you’re going to keep it a secret?” Janeway was a little taken aback at Lynne’s tone.

“No, I guess not.” Lynne sighed. “I’m just not ready to advertise.”

“You’re not advertising anything. We’ll record it in standard log format.” This was the usual message format, derived from the normal placement of a terminal on a desk. It resulted in a head-and-shoulders view of the speaker.

“Okay. That’ll work.”

Janeway did most of the talking on their message, her arm around Lynne’s shoulder in silent support. She knew, beyond a doubt, that her mom would see exactly what was going on. Lynne was probably going to get a personal message from her by the next delivery.

By 1300, Lynne’s energy levels were clearly declining and she admitted that she was feeling some pain. “I felt so great after the regeneration that I had myself convinced I was all healed,” she said ruefully. “Guess Revi was right.”

“You’ll probably make her day if you tell her that,” said Janeway. Lynne snorted.

When they walked to Cargo Bay Two an hour and a half later, Lynne’s pace was noticeably slower than normal. Janeway thought this regeneration session was coming none too soon.

Revi was waiting for them. “Oh, yes, it’s time,” she said as soon as she saw them.

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much come to the end of my rope,” said Lynne. “I can’t believe how much everything changed over the course of the morning.”

“It’s because your nanoprobes are using up an enormous amount of energy healing your biological tissues,” said Revi, running her tricorder over Lynne’s body. “Your body is healing itself far, far faster than it would if you had no nanoprobes or implants. But the tradeoff is that you’re going to be needing a lot of recharges.”

“Fine by me,” said Lynne. “Let’s plug me in.”

Revi closed her tricorder. “I know you don’t feel like it, but you’re doing very well. I couldn’t be more pleased.”

“Great,” said Lynne. “That makes one of us.” She paused at the dais, apparently gathering her reserves, and Janeway immediately went to her side to help her up.

“Thanks, love.” Lynne made her way to the alcove and turned around. “See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here,” said Janeway.

Lynne nodded. “Goodnight.” She backed into the alcove, closing her eyes and stiffening into the regeneration posture.

“How is she really?” asked Revi.

“Well, we had a little hiccup early this morning when she came to bed in pajamas,” said Janeway, still looking at Lynne.

“I don’t get it.”

Janeway turned to meet Revi’s eyes. “Until this morning, Lynne didn’t own a pair of pajamas.”

“Oh.” Revi’s face softened in total understanding. “Did you work it out?”

“I eventually got her to allow me to touch her chest implant. But she still won’t let me see any of them.”

“Do you think she’ll come to Seven and me?”

“I mentioned that again today, and she’s slightly more amenable than the last time we talked about it. But not much.”

“I’m sorry, Kathryn. You two are in a really, really hard situation. I don’t know of any other ex-Borg who had quite such a…personal experience with their assimilation.”

“Nice euphemism,” said Janeway, her voice turning hard. “You and I both know what it was. It may have been mental instead of physical, but it was a kind of rape just the same. It was all about power and subjugation, and Lynne’s showing some classic symptoms.”

Revi dropped her head. “Gods. I would give anything for this not to have happened.”

“You and me both.” Janeway headed for the door. “Thanks, Revi.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Their quarters seemed twice as empty without Lynne there, and Janeway shook off the momentary panic that settled on her shoulders. She’s safe. She’s just regenerating.

Settling behind her desk, she pulled her terminal around and set it to record, then stared at the blinking light, gathering her courage. She’d never done this before, and it was…hard. Captain Janeway used all her available resources without question or apology, but Kathryn Janeway never asked for help. Not from anyone except Lynne, and even that had required practice. All her life she’d taken pride in her self-sufficiency; it was one of the things she’d thought her dad would want. Admiral Edward Janeway liked smart, independent officers. So she’d been as smart and independent as she could possibly be, and it had very much shaped her adult character.

But this problem was just too big. And she loved Lynne enough to swallow hard, hit the record button, and reach out for the first time in many, many years.

“Mom,” she said, “You’re going to get a message from Lynne and me in this packet, and I know you’ll see right through it. What you may not see is that…” she paused, her throat tightening, and then forced out the words. “That we need your help.”

Now her throat closed entirely, and she spent a few seconds working it back open again. She would not cry.

“Lynne’s not doing well,” she said when she could speak again. “She’s covering it up as usual, but she’s been hurt badly, here.” She put her hand over her heart. “She doesn’t know I’m sending this, and you’ll have to figure out a way to respond without making any references to what I’m going to tell you. But you need to know what’s going on, because…” she paused, swiping at her eyes. “Because I’m not sure I can handle this on my own.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 9

 

 

The debriefing with Admiral Necheyev was eye-opening in more ways than one. Janeway commandeered Astrometrics for it, and when the signal came through it was encrypted in three separate levels. That sort of encryption was usually reserved for the highest level of classification, so Janeway was instantly on her guard. She immediately modified her own encryption, increasing its complexity by two levels as well.

As it turned out, Necheyev was in a fine mood. Nothing seemed to make her day like the proven worthiness of a devastating weapon against the Borg. She actually smiled when she referenced the nineteen destroyed ships, and seemed keenly interested in the details regarding the death of the Queen herself.

The debriefing itself didn’t take the entire link time, since most of what Janeway had to say was available in far more detail in her report. In their last few minutes, Janeway asked about her petition.

“Admiral, I admit to being a little curious regarding the sudden approval of my petition to accord Federation citizen status to Commander Sandovhar and Seven of Nine. Can you provide any clarification?”

The Admiral’s face showed no emotion. “Yes. I sent my recommendation for approval the day I heard about your successful mission.”

Janeway was startled. “I thought you sent your recommendation two months ago.”

“No, I forwarded the petition to the Federation Council. But not with my recommendation.”

Well, that explained why nothing had been happening.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Admiral. I thought we had come to an agreement.”

“Yes, I know. But I was still unconvinced that your ex-Borg weren’t a security risk to the Federation. However, their actions in volunteering for and successfully completing a mission to destroy their own Queen, and nineteen Borg ships along with her, has proven their loyalty.”

With an effort, Janeway kept her anger off her face. “Well,” she said evenly, “I’m glad they’ve satisfied their citizenship requirements.”

The Admiral almost smiled. “I’ve also sent in my recommendation for your petition for the Maquis as well, but that one is even more of a political bomb, so it may take longer.”

“Thank you,” Janeway said, wondering what her Maquis crew would have to do to prove their loyalty. Was more than six years of loyal service not enough?

“Captain,” said the Admiral, leaning forward, “there is another reason I wished to speak with you. It’s regarding the packet of propulsion theories you recently received from the Foundation.”

“Yes, we’re reviewing them now. There are some promising concepts among them.”

“Agreed. And some that you may wish to examine very closely should they look as feasible to your engineering team as they do to us. Lieutenant Barclay is heading up a team of reviewers to look over the concepts, and he asked me to let you know that the slipstream drive theory in particular bears close examination.”

It was very odd. The Admiral’s words seemed to say that this was the most promising theory of all, and they should be devoting their resources to it. But something was going on under the surface. There was absolutely no reason for the Admiral to require a face-to-face comm link to pass on this information.

Janeway watched the impassive woman on the screen, her own suspicions rising. “Thank you, Admiral,” she said. “There were several different theories; it’s good to know which of them deserves our particular attention.”

The Admiral nodded. “Keep me updated on your progress with that theory. You have some extremely capable engineers on your crew; I believe their input will be very valuable to our teams here.”

“I will.” Now Janeway knew something was wrong. There was no reason at all for Necheyev to want personal updates on slipstream theory. It wasn’t her field, and she wasn’t in charge of the Starfleet engineering teams.

“Excellent,” said Necheyev. “How much longer do you think you’ll be requiring personal leave?”

The implied order was obvious. “I’m prepared to retake command at your discretion.”

“Good. I suggest you do so now.”

Janeway nodded. “Yes, Admiral.” I’m sorry, Lynne.

“One more thing, Captain. I regret that we can’t do this in a more formal manner, but our communications limitations make it difficult. The mail packet being sent through this link includes a general message to your crew informing them that Commander Revi Sandovhar and Seven of Nine, formerly Annika Hansen, have been awarded the Starfleet Citation for Valor for their actions in the destruction of the Borg Queen’s ship and eighteen cubes. I realize that it’s somewhat unorthodox to award a Starfleet Citation to an individual who holds no official rank, but I think in this instance Ms. Nine’s unique position justifies the award. And you, Captain Janeway, have been awarded the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor for leadership and personal courage in the acquisition and development of a working Borg weapon, the destruction of nineteen Borg vessels, and the elimination of the Borg Queen, one of the greatest enemies the Federation has ever known. Authorization for the replication of these awards has been included with this packet. Congratulations, Captain, and please convey my congratulations to Commander Sandovhar and Seven of Nine. You have all performed an admirable service for Starfleet and the Federation.”

Janeway was almost speechless. “Thank you, Admiral,” she managed.

The comm link ended half a minute later, and Janeway sank down on the edge of the dais, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

“How about that,” she muttered. “I give up my command to bring back my wife and I get the fucking Medal of Valor.” It was the highest honor attainable within Starfleet Command. The only award higher than the Pike Medal of Valor was the Starfleet Medal of Honor, which was bestowed by the Federation President.

Janeway realized that the news would be all over the ship almost before she could get back to the bridge. She’d have to plan an award ceremony for Revi and Seven, and no doubt Chakotay would not let her get away without a public ceremony of her own. She started to laugh, but it was a bitter sound.

“What a joke,” she said as she stood up. “Lynne won’t let me see her, but by god I got a medal out of it.” Shaking her head, she walked out the door.

 

 

-----

 

 

Neelix pounced on the news; it was the best excuse for a party he’d had in a long time. Janeway barely managed to rein in his enthusiasm—he wanted to have the party that evening, but she convinced him to wait until the Citations for Valor were actually awarded.

The award ceremony took place three days later in Cargo Bay One, the only place besides the shuttle bay that was large enough for the entire crew. Janeway walked between the drawn-up ranks of her crew, all in their dress uniforms, and felt a surge of pride in them. She wished she could give all of them awards; they’d certainly earned them. But at least she had always been prompt with commendations whenever she could give them.

She stepped up onto a platform and turned to face her crew. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Lynne, standing straight and tall in the front row and wearing a uniform for the first time since the Queen had taken her. Three more eighteen-hour regeneration sessions had worked wonders on her body and energy levels, but her mental state was another issue altogether. She had withdrawn behind some formidable walls, and though she presented a cheery outlook in general, Janeway knew better. Revi had been right: Lynne’s self image was shattered, and she trusted no one to see her any differently than she saw herself. She’d been reluctant to come to this ceremony, and had agreed only when Janeway, hating herself for even suggesting it, had pointed out that if she tucked her clamp into her jacket pocket nobody would be able to tell that she had any implants at all.

Next to Lynne were B’Elanna and Tom, and Seven and Revi stood on her other side. It wasn’t a coincidence; they were closing ranks around Lynne to provide support and a form of protection. Besides Janeway and Revi, no one but Seven knew the details of what was going on, because Lynne wasn’t seeing visitors and neither Janeway nor Revi were at liberty to speak of the more personal aspects of her condition. But B’Elanna missed very little, Janeway knew, and she had no doubt figured some of it out. She had a hand hooked through Lynne’s left arm, and Janeway could see, even from the podium, how much that simple contact from a friend had eased Lynne’s doubts about being here.

She let her eyes roam over the rest of her crew, all facing her expectantly, and began her speech. She told the story of Seven and Revi’s mission, going into details which until now had been known only to the senior staff. As she spoke, she watched the expressions of her crew change from polite interest to attentiveness to, in some cases, fascination. She knew Seven and Revi’s stock was going up. Good. They deserved it.

When the moment came, she called their names and watched as they mounted the platform. Seven looked startled by the thunderous applause, her head swiveling from side to side and her eyes wide. Janeway felt tears prick the backs of her eyes and swallowed them down. She was so damned proud of both of them, and so happy that her crew was acknowledging their courage. She finished her speech, stepped forward, and carefully pinned the small medal to Revi’s chest. “Congratulations,” she said for the benefit of the crowd. Then she pulled Revi into a hug and whispered, “And thank you. From both of us.” Turning to Seven, she had to reach quite a bit higher to pin on the medal. “Congratulations,” she said. She went up on her tiptoes to hug her friend and whisper in her ear, “You’re one of my heroes, Seven.”

When she stood back, Seven looked astonished, and Janeway winked at her before turning back to the crowd and clapping her hands. The crew responded with a roar of applause and approval that echoed off the high ceiling. Seven stood stiffly, her hands behind her back, but when Revi reached out and briefly touched her, Seven instantly relaxed and smiled at her. If anyone on the crew had managed not to know about their relationship, it was certainly out now. Seven’s body language was unmistakable.

They acknowledged the crowd and stepped down, followed by Janeway. She traded places with Chakotay, who walked to the platform and began his own speech detailing the circumstances behind Janeway’s Medal of Valor. She felt Lynne bump her shoulder and looked up into warm green eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” whispered Lynne. Janeway wrapped an arm around her waist and looked back to the stage. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about this. To receive such a high honor when the price was still being paid—and not by her—just didn’t seem right. True, she’d done the things Chakotay was talking about. And true, she’d been prepared to die to accomplish her mission. But that was largely because she really didn’t think she’d have anything to live for anyway. Was it bravery when one had nothing left to lose?

After a speech that, in her opinion, went on far too long, Chakotay called her up on the platform. She stepped up and stood still as he pinned the medal to her jacket, then turned to the crowd, which roared its approval. When her eyes went to Lynne, she momentarily choked up at the sight of her wife with her left hand held against her heart, fingers and thumb out in a familiar sign. I love you. She smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, then looked out over the crowd and held up her hand for silence.

“I can’t accept this just for myself,” she said. “I could never have accomplished this mission alone. Nor could I have accomplished it with just Commander Sandovhar and Seven of Nine. I needed the entire Engineering crew, which worked around the clock for three days to repair the transwarp drive and reinstall it on the Delta Flyer. I needed the sickbay team, which worked for sixty-four hours straight to finish the nanoscrubber antidote. I needed the brilliant minds of several Operations departments to perfect and implement a phase shifting concept that even the greatest thinkers at the Theoretical Propulsion Group hadn’t gotten off the drawing boards. And I needed all the rest of you, who took on extra duties to free up the people working on these projects.” She paused, looking around the room at the upturned faces.

“The Borg Queen believed that perfection came from assimilating technology and creating a community of individuals who all thought exactly alike. But I think we’ve proved the error of that concept. We are a community of individuals who think in wildly different ways, and our strengths complement one another. It is our very distinctiveness that the Borg covet. And it is that same distinctiveness that has enabled us to beat them, not once, not twice, but five times now.” She tapped her medal. “This is for all of you. Thank you.”

She raised her hands and began clapping, and was soon joined by a maelstrom of cheers, foot stomping, whistles and applause. When she finally stepped down and rejoined Lynne, the loving gaze directed her way nearly melted her on the spot.

“Did I say I was proud of you before?” asked Lynne, speaking directly in her ear to be heard over the crowd. “I must have been mistaken. Because I’m bursting with pride for you now.” She quickly kissed Janeway just beneath her ear and straightened up again.

Janeway reached out for her hand. “Come on. I think we have a party to attend.” People were already starting to filter out.

“Would you mind if I didn’t go?”

Janeway sighed, but kept her disappointment off her face. “Of course not. Are you tired?”

“A little. And I’m really not up to seeing the whole crew in a giant gathering like that. I do want to see them; just not in that kind of setting.”

“You mean you’re ready for visitors?” This was news.

Lynne nodded. “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed my friends until now.”

“Then we’ll just have to have a smaller party of our own,” said Janeway, delighted at this sign of progress.

“I’m up for that.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 10

 

 

“You’re kidding,” said B’Elanna.

“I’m afraid not.” Janeway looked around the conference table. She’d put this meeting off until the day after the award ceremony and party, understanding the importance of giving her crew a little time to celebrate a victory before throwing the next roadblock in their path. And it was a very jarring roadblock. She’d thought endlessly about the Admiral’s strange message, and the conclusion she’d come to wasn’t one she liked. But she couldn’t afford to ignore her instincts.

“Captain, I don’t wish to call your communication skills into question,” said Tuvok. “But it seems illogical that, if such a danger did indeed exist, the Admiral wouldn’t state it directly. Is it possible that you misinterpreted her meaning?”

Janeway leaned forward. “I know how much you hate going on intuition, Tuvok, but I think in this instance it’s justified. Telling me which of the theories looked the most likely wasn’t an important enough detail to merit comm link time. In fact, it wasn’t an important enough detail to merit the Admiral’s attention at all—a message like that should have come from Lieutenant Barclay. And it’s Lieutenant Barclay who should be receiving our updates, not the Admiral. As for why the Admiral wouldn’t state it directly—there’s an unthinkable amount of wealth and power at stake, which means she couldn’t be sure that someone in her office hadn’t been bought. Or that the link itself wasn’t being monitored. She had it encrypted at three levels.”

“But you were debriefing her about the Borg mission,” said Chakotay. “The nanoscrubber weapon is classified technology. It would make sense that she’d encrypt your conversation.”

“I’d buy that if she’d also ordered me to encrypt my full report the same way. She didn’t. I used a standard dual encryption for that, and it had far more details.”

“Can we back up a minute?” asked Harry. “What’s this about wealth and power? What does that have to do with whether or not we get back safely?”

Janeway sighed. She hadn’t enjoyed telling Lynne that her secret was about to come out. Since first learning of her parent’s legacy, Lynne had only told Seven and B’Elanna. Of course, Revi and Tom both knew by now, but Harry’s question proved that it had gone no farther. Lynne had been afraid that her crewmates might treat her differently if they knew who she was, and now she was afraid that they might resent her for becoming, indirectly, a danger to them and an obstacle to their return home. But it couldn’t be helped.

“There’s something you all need to know,” she said. “But it stays inside this room unless Lynne gives you specific permission to share it.”

That got her a number of raised eyebrows as Chakotay, Tuvok and Harry waited to see what on earth Lynne had to do with this. Even those who were aware of Lynne’s status still looked confused. None of them knew what Janeway did about the Foundation’s shift in policy, or the details of the trust that Alison Necheyev had slipped into the files she’d sent Lynne.

“Is everyone here familiar with the Hamilton Foundation?” she asked. Tuvok’s eyebrows nearly crawled off his forehead, and Janeway knew he’d made the connection.

“Sure,” said Harry, “they’ve been funding research into space travel and exploration for…” He stopped.

“Hundreds of years,” finished Janeway, seeing the suspicion dawning on his face. She got up from her chair and began prowling the room, unable to stay still as she explained.

“Nine and a half months ago, we made an unexpected trip to Earth,” she began. “At that time, Lynne left a message for her parents, to be delivered on the day of her disappearance. She wanted them to know she was all right, so they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives worrying and wondering about her. She told them everything that had happened to her.”

Conveniently leaving out the part about Lynne’s violation of the Temporal Prime Directive, Janeway outlined her parents’ response to her message, the actions of the Hamilton Foundation through the intervening centuries, the policy change which had taken place the day after Voyager’s initial contact with MIDAS, and the fact that, upon their arrival at Earth, Lynne would inherit a personal trust fund worth stratospheric amounts.

“In our second visual comm link with Starfleet,” she continued, “The CEO of the Hamilton Foundation took over half the link time in order to speak with Lynne. She sent a packet of files through the link as well, and it was in those that we found a little piece of data that brings all of this together.” Her circuit of the room had brought her back to her chair. She sank into it, taking a deep breath.

“Lynne’s personal trust is managed by three members of the Foundation Board of Directors. As compensation for their efforts, and as a way of insuring that the trust will be managed effectively, those three members receive an annual income of two and a half percent of the gains. When she takes over the fund, they’re out of a job and an income unless she chooses to keep them on. If she doesn’t come back to Earth, the trust fund will continue under the existing management plan until 2575. Then it will roll over into the Foundation corpus.”

Tuvok was nodding. “I understand your concerns, Captain.”

B’Elanna looked pissed off. “So you think those three are attached enough to their jobs and income that they’re willing to sabotage us to make sure Lynne never comes back?”

Janeway nodded. “It looks that way. Maybe not all three; maybe just one, but that’s enough when we’re talking about that kind of money and power. You realize, of course, that this is all speculation to this point. We have no proof, which is also why Admiral Necheyev can’t just come out and speak openly about this. You don’t go accusing three of the most powerful people in the Federation of conspiracy and attempted homicide without ironclad proof.”

“But how does Admiral Necheyev know about all of this?” asked Chakotay.

“Probably because the CEO of the Hamilton Foundation happens to be her niece,” said Janeway. “Her name is Alison Necheyev.”

Tom whistled. “Small universe.”

“Not as small as I’d like,” said B’Elanna, bristling with loyalty for her friend. “It sounds like there are some asses desperately in need of kicking.”

“You’ll get no argument here,” said Janeway. “But we can do exactly nothing about that right now. What we can do is take the Admiral’s warning to heart and scrutinize every bit of data that the Foundation sent us, with special emphasis on the slipstream drive.”

“Damn,” said B’Elanna. “That was the most promising of them all.”

“I concur,” said Seven. “Perhaps if we’re careful, we can find any possible sabotage and eliminate it while retaining the working aspects of the drive.”

“Agreed,” said Janeway. “If the technology works, it works. We’ll figure out a way to deal with any…unwanted aspects.” She looked around the table. “All right, we’re done with the bad news of the meeting. The good news is that Lynne’s up for visitors now, so if any of you would like to drop by our quarters, she’d love to see you. I think she’d especially appreciate your support given what I had to tell her after the Admiral’s call.”

B’Elanna lit up, as Janeway knew she would. She’d seen Lynne briefly at the award ceremony, and that was it since Lynne had first woken in sickbay.

“I’m pleased to hear that,” said Tuvok. “I’d like to visit after the shift if I may.”

“Us too,” said B’Elanna, exchanging a glance with Tom.

“Do I need to take a number?” asked Harry.

Janeway looked around the table, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I think I’d better go home and tell Lynne that we’re going to have a party. Come on over, all of you, after the shift. She’ll be thrilled. Unless, of course, you don’t think you can do parties two nights in a row?”

Apparently, that wasn’t a problem.

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway left the bridge shortly after the meeting, a bounce in her step. She was looking forward to telling Lynne about the senior staff’s response, knowing that it would go a long way toward alleviating her fears about resentment. When she stepped through their door, she saw Lynne at her desk, head up and eyes wide. She looked like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Janeway said, walking to her side. “Are you okay?” She glanced at the terminal and saw the blinking light indicating that a recording had been paused.

“I, uh…” Lynne fidgeted. “I was just recording a message to your mom.”

“You mean our mom.” After Janeway had swallowed years of pride and reached out to her mother, Gretchen had sent a message back by the very next MIDAS contact and assured her that she would do her absolute best to help. Two days later she’d reported that Lynne had responded openly to her first attempt, and she was hopeful that she might be able to provide some of the support and acceptance that Lynne so obviously needed. Their messages back and forth were a revelation to Janeway; she’d never felt this kind of emotional ease while speaking with her mother—at least, not since she was a small child. Though she’d been able to tell her father anything, that familiarity and comfort had never extended to her mother. That they loved each other was never in doubt, but Janeway had learned long ago that love didn’t guarantee friendship. She and her mom were family, not friends. But these last few messages had felt so different…as if she were talking to a real friend. Maybe, she thought, the difference was that they weren’t talking about her. They were talking about Lynne.

But Lynne had no idea that Gretchen and Janeway were communicating with each other about this, and Janeway had no intention of telling her. She knew instinctively that Lynne needed her own relationship with Gretchen.

She smiled at her wife. “That’s great. So why do you look so guilty?”

“Because…” Lynne sat back in her chair. “I didn’t…I mean…”

“Lynne.” Janeway crouched down beside her. “If there are things you can say to Mom that you can’t say to me, that’s fine. I’m just glad you have someone else you can talk to.”

Lynne reached down and took Janeway’s hand in her own. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“There’s no substitute for a mom,” said Janeway. “Wives have their place, but certain things fall in the mom department.”

Lynne’s eyes grew shiny, and she made an obvious effort to hold back her tears. “God, I hate this,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It seems like every time I turn around I’m crying. And you are not helping by being so understanding.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

Lynne shook her head. “I don’t think you can.”

“You’re right; not when it comes to you.” Janeway stood and rested one hip on the desk. “I actually came by to warn you.”

“About what?”

“I just told the senior staff that you were up for visitors, and they were practically getting in line to come see you. I thought it might avoid bloodshed if we just had a party, so I invited them over tonight.”

“They did? Did you tell them about—”

“Yes,” interrupted Janeway. “B’Elanna said she thought that there were some asses desperately in need of kicking. And I think the rest of them were in total agreement; they just don’t have the balls to use that kind of language in front of me during a staff meeting.”

Lynne began to chuckle. “B’Elanna doesn’t have balls, either.”

“Yes, she does.”

Now Lynne laughed outright. She pushed her chair back, stood up and enveloped Janeway in a tight hug. “Thank you, love,” she said. “You always know how to make me smile.”

I wish that were true, thought Janeway. She took the opportunity to give Lynne a kiss of the air-stealing variety. “I need to get back. Tell Mom I said hi.”

“I will.”

 

 

-----

 

 

The party was an enormous success, and Janeway was thrilled to see the light in Lynne’s eyes as she was surrounded by her friends and crewmates. Janeway had invited Slater and Johnson as well, and Emily Watson, with whom Lynne had become friends after the Arnett takeover. There was a great deal of loud talking, laughter, and teasing, and Janeway was kept busy running back and forth to the replicator with food and drink orders. Several times she saw Lynne just watching the crowd, a half-smile on her face. She looked relaxed, and Janeway mentally thanked her staff for their boisterous support.

Of course it was Tom who tactlessly made the first reference to her experience. “So, Lynne, when do you get your new arm?”

B’Elanna gave him a swift elbow in the ribs, but it was too late. Lynne, however, didn’t flinch.

“I’ve got one more regeneration session tonight, and then Revi says I’ll have the reserves to handle the surgery. So, I get it tomorrow.” She glanced at Revi. “She just finished the design yesterday.”

“And a beautiful job it is, if I may say so myself,” said Revi. “The Doctor put in a few thoughtful touches as well. It became quite the project.”

“It’s going to become a paper,” said the Doctor proudly. “The first prosthesis of its kind. We’re writing it up now.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” said Lynne, glaring at Revi.

“I, um—”

Lynne fished an ice cube out of her drink and tossed it in Revi’s lap. “I’m teasing you. As long as you don’t use my name, that is.”

“Oh no,” said the Doctor. “That would be unethical.”

“Then go ahead, make yourselves famous, as long as I can climb.”

“You’ll climb,” said Revi confidently.

“I can’t wait.”

Janeway knew she wasn’t kidding. Lynne hated her cybernetic arm even more, if it were possible, than the other implants. The others she could cover up, but the arm couldn’t be hidden unless she kept the clamp in her pocket—which she’d been doing all evening. Janeway was hoping that Lynne’s psyche might receive a much-needed boost when her Borg arm was gone forever.

“So what’s so different about this prosthesis?” asked Tom.

Revi looked at Lynne, who raised her eyebrow. “What, you’re going to make it public for the whole Alpha Quadrant, but you’re asking me now if you can talk about it?”

“The whole Alpha Quadrant won’t know it’s your arm we’re talking about,” Revi pointed out.

“Okay, fair enough. I don’t really care,” said Lynne. “Besides, it is a pretty cool arm.” She’d been watching the development of the arm with total fascination, reporting to Janeway every day on its latest incarnation. Janeway, of course, already had detailed reports from Revi, but it was so rare to see Lynne light up that she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt.

“Yes, it is,” said Revi. She looked at Tom. “What’s so different about it is two things, actually. First of all, we had to make it much stronger than standard prostheses, because of Lynne’s Borg endoskeleton. We’re essentially wrapping the prosthesis around an existing base, and that base is far, far stronger than human bone and muscle, or even any current prosthetic cores. So we had to totally redesign all of the new cybernetic parts for the same level of load-bearing that the existing cybernetics and endoskeleton are capable of. Otherwise, Lynne could easily tear the prosthesis apart.”

“I’m hard on my toys,” said Lynne, and the crowd laughed. She shot Janeway a wink, leaving her blinking in surprise. Was that a sexual joke? If so, it was the first glimmer of sexual interest that Lynne had shown since getting out of sickbay.

“The second difference is in the skin covering,” continued Revi. “Federation doctors have been able to simulate the sense of touch, but they’ve never successfully reproduced skin itself at that level. We can create new skin by making a connection between existing patches of skin and artificially enhancing the growth across the connection. But to generate an entire arm’s worth of skin, without any existing patches to work with, has been beyond our capacity. It’s not, however, beyond the capacity of the Vidiians, and the Collective contains all of their medical knowledge. I had to modify it a bit for human parameters, but the upshot is that Lynne’s arm will have real, human skin. With a slight variation in the density, because of the strength issue. We had to design the skin to be practically tear-proof, or it wouldn’t be able to withstand the same stresses that the cybernetic parts and the endoskeleton can. From the outside, Lynne’s prosthetic will be nearly indistinguishable from a fully biological arm. Except that it’ll be a hell of a lot stronger.”

“Yeah, and no more blisters or scraped fingers from climbing,” said Lynne, who had a one-track mind these days. Her entire being, so far as Janeway could tell, was focused on her first climb once she got her new arm.

“Sounds pretty damned useful,” said B’Elanna. “I’m glad for you, Lynne.”

“Thanks. All things considered, I’d rather have my old arm, but it sounds like this is going to be a pretty good substitute. Anything’s better than what I have now.”

Which, of course, made everyone look, but as usual the clamp was tucked into a pocket. There was nothing to see.

The conversation soon turned to other things, and Janeway thoroughly enjoyed herself. It was great to relax in her own quarters, among the people with whom she was most comfortable. Last night’s party had required her to be more formal, circulating and making hours’ worth of meaningless small talk. And Lynne hadn’t been there. Now she could sit on the arm of her couch, with one arm draped over Lynne’s shoulder, watching her wife interacting with their friends and being showered with both spoken and unspoken support. This was what Lynne had needed.

The party came to an end when Lynne’s regeneration time rolled around.

“Sorry, folks,” Lynne told them. “I’d stay out after curfew, but my doctor’s here so I can’t get away with anything.”

After a few colorful comments, their guests had filtered out, leaving Janeway alone with Lynne for the first time since she’d popped in during her shift.

“I want more time with you,” she said as she walked into Lynne’s arms. “I hate sleeping in separate beds.”

“I’d hardly call an alcove a bed,” said Lynne, squeezing her tightly. “But just think, one more night after this and then I can start tapering down. Revi said eventually I’ll be down to eight hours of regeneration every few days. She said regular sleep and proper diet should keep me fairly well charged, but I’ll need to top off now and again.”

Janeway pulled away, keeping her arms locked around Lynne’s waist. “Have you made your decision about the transceiver?”

Revi had told them that, if Lynne wanted, she could deactivate her transceiver at the same time they did the arm surgery. Lynne had instantly said she wanted it deactivated, but both Revi and Janeway had asked her to give it a little more thought.

“You mean the same decision I made when Revi first told me about it? I haven’t changed my mind, Kathryn. I know there could be tactical advantages, and I know Revi would never come into my head if I didn’t ask, but I just can’t handle the thought of anyone being able to get in there. I want it turned off.”

Janeway was still stuck on the first part of her speech. “Did you actually consider keeping it just because there might be a tactical advantage?”

“I gave it some thought, yes.”

“Why? Please tell me I never gave you the impression that I’d place any importance on that.”

“No, you didn’t and you wouldn’t. It was just something I thought about, especially given how useful that interlink was between Seven and Revi during the Arnett takeover. But unless you have a transceiver too, I’m not interested.”

“I understand,” said Janeway. “My only concern is for any future medical needs. What if, for any reason, you need Revi’s direct help?”

“I thought about that too, but Revi says my cortical implant is stable and there shouldn’t be any problems in the future.”

Janeway didn’t like it. She would have preferred Lynne to keep the transceiver active, just as an insurance policy, but she couldn’t blame her for her decision.

“Okay, sweetheart. I appreciate your thinking about it.”

“You want me to leave it on, don’t you?”

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

Lynne watched her in silence, but Janeway refused to add anything. Finally Lynne said, “We’ve had this conversation before. When I went to Earth, and asked if you wanted me to stay.”

As if Janeway could ever forget that. “And my answer is the same, for the same reason. It’s your life and your decision, Lynne.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Lynne thoughtfully.

“What?”

“I’m not so sure you can take the same stance. Then we weren’t even living together. Now we’re married. Don’t you think that means we have a little more say in each other’s lives?”

“So if I asked you to keep it active, would you?”

Lynne stepped out of their embrace, taking Janeway’s hand and leading her to the couch. As they settled on the cushions, Lynne fixed her with a direct stare and said, “Are you asking?”

And there it was. Janeway looked into intent green eyes and realized that she was going to have to make a fundamental decision about what she wanted from their marriage, and what she was willing to give. If she said yes, then she was tacitly giving Lynne some rights over her own personal decisions that she’d never dreamed of giving anyone before. She’d been maneuvered into making a choice that she hadn’t really considered until now.

But Lynne was waiting, and she was used to making fast decisions.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m asking.”

Lynne nodded. “Okay. Why?”

Janeway tightened her grip on Lynne’s hand. “Because I’ve spent days watching over you in sickbay, and waiting for you to end your regeneration cycle, and I’ve been scared to death a dozen times over. I knew you were my life before this happened, but now that’s been driven home in a way that frankly terrifies me. So if there’s any way we can stack the odds in favor of your continued survival and health, then that’s what I want.”

Lynne dropped her eyes to their hands, turning them over and gently playing with Janeway’s ring. “I’m sorry this has been so hard for you. And I understand what you’re saying. There’s just…” She paused, took a deep breath, and looked up. “There’s just this little part of me that’s afraid she’s really not dead. And that she’ll come back, and if my transceiver is active then she’ll just walk right in. I won’t be able to stop her.”

Janeway thought about the Queen’s ship coming out of the transwarp conduit in a million pieces, when Voyager had collapsed the opening after the Delta Flyer emerged with the rescue team and Seven of Nine safely on board. She’d been sure the Queen was dead then. But over two years later the dead had come to life on her main viewer, mocking her with taunts about how perfection couldn’t be destroyed. Was she really gone for good?

She looked into Lynne’s face, seeing tension there that had become an almost constant part of her expression these days. Was it worth a slight loss of her own peace of mind, if it meant they could permanently ease some of that tension for Lynne?

Yes, it was.

“Then deactivate it,” she said firmly.

Lynne was surprised. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. As long as it’s active you’re always going to be afraid of her. I don’t want to see that in your eyes. Deactivate it.”

Lynne wrapped her arms around Janeway’s shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you,” she said, releasing her and leaning back. “I feel better about it now.”

“Would you have kept it active if I’d insisted?” Time for her own hard question.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, no you don’t. You wouldn’t let me get away with that.”

“True.” Lynne looked a bit sheepish. Then she frowned slightly, giving the question considerable thought. Janeway waited patiently.

“What you want is important to me, Kathryn,” Lynne said at last. “And I don’t want to cause you any more worry and heartache. But I don’t think I could spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”

Janeway nodded. “Well, thank you for giving me a voice.”

“You’ll always have a voice in my life. The most important one.”

“Not the most important one. That’s you. But I’m happy to be the second most important.”

“Only by a tiny margin.” Lynne leaned in for a kiss.

“How much time do we have left?” asked Janeway when they separated, both breathing slightly harder.

“Eight minutes,” said Lynne, who never looked at a chronometer anymore.

“Good. That gives me six more minutes to kiss you senseless.”

Lynne raised an eyebrow. “Well, you can try.”

Janeway was never one to turn down a challenge.

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway took time off the next morning to watch the surgery. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as she watched both doctors bent over Lynne’s unmoving form. This time, however, their positions were reversed: the Doctor was at Lynne’s head, deactivating her transceiver, while Revi worked on the arm. Attaching the prosthetic to the existing Borg components was a long and very delicate surgery, and Janeway was amazed by the intricacies of the cybernetic parts—at least, those she could see from her vantage point on the other side of the medical force field. At first it was a little disquieting to see Lynne’s arm laid open that way, but her scientific curiosity eventually took over and she watched in fascination. Once again Revi’s own cybernetic arm came in handy—she’d told Janeway earlier that some of the things she’d be doing during the surgery couldn’t be done with existing Federation medical instruments.

When Revi finally began wrapping the skin base around the arm, Janeway felt an enormous sense of relief. It was going to be beautiful. It was going to look just like a human arm, and she began to hope, for the first time, that Lynne might accept it and really begin her healing process. She still hadn’t allowed Janeway to see the other implants, and it hurt Janeway to see her normally self-confident wife so unsure of herself and so ashamed of her body. But it had only been ten days since they’d brought her back, and Revi had assured her that Lynne was doing fine, considering all that had happened.

“Did you go through anything like this when you were separated from the Collective?” Janeway had asked.

“Not nearly to that degree,” said Revi. “But I was surrounded by an entire colony of people in the same situation. Besides, my body was never my stock in trade. It’s different for Lynne.”

As Janeway watched the surgery, her thoughts drifted back to the day she’d witnessed Lynne’s shin na’shon match. When Tuvok had broken Lynne’s arm, Janeway had tried to get her to stop the match. But Lynne had said, This is what I do now. It’s the only thing I have to offer.

Lynne had always based her personal worth on her physical skills and fitness. All her life she’d used her body as the means to earn her living, and on Voyager she’d simply found an alternative way of doing the same thing. Nobody, not even Janeway, would ever talk her out of this mindset. It was simply who she was. By destroying part of Lynne’s body and irrevocably altering other parts, the Queen had caused an untold amount of emotional damage. And that wasn’t even counting the mental violation. Lynne hadn’t said much about it after that first day, but Janeway knew it was inextricably woven in with how she viewed her implants. She was desperately hoping that this new arm, and the freedom it would give Lynne to climb again, would be the catalyst that broke the Queen’s hold.

The medical force field came down and Revi walked over. “It went perfectly, Kathryn. She’ll be awake in a few hours.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure. Just don’t touch it; the skin is still growing.”

Janeway stepped up to Lynne’s biobed and looked at the arm. Then she tilted her head and leaned in for a closer look. “Revi!”

Revi was there in a half-second. “What?”

“It has hairs!”

Revi relaxed. “Don’t do that, you worried me. Of course it has hairs. I told you, it’s human skin. Hair follicles and everything. It’ll even perspire.”

“But…that’s amazing!”

Revi laughed. “Let’s hope Lynne thinks so.”

“I don’t see how she can think anything else. It looks exactly like her human arm. I mean, you even matched the color. And the fingernails are perfect.”

“They can be changed out if she wants them longer.”

“I doubt that will happen.” They looked at each other and laughed; and Janeway felt a load lifting off her shoulders. Lynne was going to love this arm. “How long before she can start using it?”

“I assume you mean abusing it, as opposed to normal usage.”

“I mean, when can she climb?”

“I knew what you meant. She can climb tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I was working with existing neural connections from the Borg cybernetics, so most of what I did was essentially mechanical. It’s a matter of tightening the bolts, so to speak, and the arm is good to go. The new neural connections conveying the sense of touch from the skin, and the skin itself, are the only things that need to heal. Another ten hours of regeneration and she’ll be ready to climb.”

“Does she know that?” Lynne had been so fixated on her first climb that Janeway could only imagine one reason why she hadn’t said anything about being able to go tomorrow.

“No. I didn’t want to make any guarantees in case something went wrong.”

Janeway made a snap decision. “Revi, I’ve got to take care of a few things. Call me when she starts to come around.”

“I will.”

It took Janeway a significant number of her stashed rations to buy three hours of holodeck time from the crewmembers who had them reserved. She’d already used a good chunk to replace Lynne’s ring, so this latest outlay left her account severely depleted, but she would have spent every ration she owned to make this work.

She was back in her ready room when the call came in from Revi. Quickly she finished the memo she’d been working on, turned the bridge over to Chakotay, and headed for sickbay.

Lynne was still unconscious when she got there, but within minutes she saw the signs of her coming around. By now she was all too familiar with them.

Lynne’s eyes fluttered open. S